A Slight Taste of Sam

Collinsport. A strange and inexplicable attack upon those whom Nicole Collins has come to care about – to whom she regards almost like family, or at least as close to a family as Nicole Collins has ever had having been abandoned by her parents when she was 8 months old. Her fault? She cannot help but feel it – that perhaps she has missed something, some vital clue she has over looked, a series of events she has yet to divine the proper chronology of, a poem yet to be deciphered. It was her job to solve the puzzles – and if she did not do so this time, how many of her family of friends would pay the price.

The hospital stank of disinfectant, disease, with the subtle hint of human excrement and piss, mixed with despair and some medicinal smell that she didn’t quite know the name of, or the medicine it came from, or the correct adjective for it, but it was the smell, the strange potpourri she always associated with hospitals – a trigger like the madeline’s, which took her back to that night. The night her father had taken her eye. No matter the pain, or how weak she felt, Samantha Brook could not stay in the hospital – she had to get away . . . away from the memory. And so, during the shift change, before any one began their rounds to deliver the meds or to check afternoon vital signs, she slipped out of Woodard Memorial Hospital.

Of course, she was certain no one would understand why – they would just call her crazy . . . and perhaps she was – having heard it so long. Only for her, she knew she somehow stood between two worlds – and that she saw this one differently than all the others – and at times, she could see into another of which few were even cognizant. As she made her way slowly along the cold, snowy Collinsport streets, she felt that if anyone could ever come close to understanding, it just might be Miss Collins. Nikki.

There is a knock at the front door.

Rhyaad de’Annar, turns toward the front doors of the Nightingale. The few patrons that had graced the night, which had sat in quite conversations at the candle lit tables had now all but gone. Although the forecast was not for any more than in inch of accumulation, the snowfall has keep most customers inside their homes for the night. Rhyaad arose from his seat at the table and walked through the quite lobby and opened the door, surprised to see Nichole Collins standing there.

Not because of her lack of heavy clothing – no, he was used to her failure to try and disguise her indifference to the Maine winter.

“Nikki!” he calls out. “You don’t have to knock you know. It’s not like you needed to be invited.” Then he grins at that.

“Come, I shall introduce you to someone.” He holds the door for her.

“Well, it was late and I didn’t want to interrupt anything, ” Nikki replies as she stepped into the tearoom.”

“Oh, there’s nothing to interrupt. Do come in and join us. Miss Eleanor Campbell is visiting.” He gestures to them both. “Elanor, Nikki. Nichole, Elanor.”

Nikki saunters in from the snow and cold. “Oh, good evening Elanor.” Smiling at the striking beauty, who sat the table. Her long slivery –grey hair pulled back. Her eyes bright – with the hint of some danger.

“I have news for you, Nichole.” Rhyaad reaches into his pocket and drew out a long narrow leather folder and hands it to her. “Look inside.”

Nikki took the folder he offered, finding within airline tickets. Her long, slender fingers removes them: Bangor to New York, London, Paris, and Prague.

“I see you are planning a trip.” She smiles, and returns the tickets, “Prague is so very interesting at this time of the year.”

Suddenly the double doors of the Nightingale open and Samantha Brook bursts into the lobby, her boots kicking ice and snow across the floor – a snowy orb hurling past her, just missing, to crash into an asterisk on the tile.

She is being pelted by snowballs.

Nikki looks up to see Sam entering. She sees snowballs have starred upon the back of her coat.

She’s dripping ice to the floor.

Samantha slams the double doors behind her, “Damn ‘lil’ buggers.” She says; and turning, she sees Nikki and smiles.

“Sam, you should not be out in this weather – “ Nikki admonishes, “When did they release you from hospital?”

Rhyaad was startled to see Samantha, and not at all angered by the snowballs beginning now to melt their cold litter on his lobby floor. “Samantha!” He called out loudly. “You’re all right! They released you already? I was afraid you’d be in the hospital for days.”

Eleanor turns in her chair to took at the disheveled, young woman with the eye-patch, and cheeks all rosy from the cold, their rosy hue seeming to compliment her long red hair.

“Don’t like hospitals,” she murmurs. Her mood suddenly darkened.

Nikki drops the narrow leather folder containing the airline tickets on the table and takes a seat. Samantha, walks over, eyes slightly downcast and makes certain to settle in a chair next to her.

“It’s good you’re here.” Rhyaad says, “What I have to tell you is relevant to your attack.”

Nikki reaches out a hand and takes Sam’s, “You are alright?”

Samantha’s blush is concealed behind the rose left on her face by the of the winter’s wind.

“I have discovered a few things.’ He pronounced and pulled back his chair and took a seat, “The attackers. They were using EUMO issued Mark IV anti-vampire bullets. Not a common type of ammunition to say the least. And so, I called a contact that I have, an Agent Daan Peeters, I think you know him Nikki, of the EUMO, and I had a discussion with him about it. And found out a few things.”

Nikki, listening to Rhy, is very still concerned about Samantha, she hears the flutter of her heart – aware that she is weak. “You lost a lot of blood and collapsed in my office.”

Samantha squeezes Nikki’s hand softly- “I’ll be fine, I’ve been shot worse—but, . . . um . . . if the police come looking . . I’m not here . . . “

“The police?” Nikki asks perplexed – unless she had done something during her flight from hospital.

Samantha looks around, “Well—you know gunshot wound. Not all the blanks neatly filled in my story – and so the police, you never know what they might be thinking.”

Nikki shakes her head – “I have spoken to St. Clair,” trying to allay her concerns, and then, as she turns her attention back to Rhy—”Mark IV ammunition . . . they were trying to kill us Rhy.”

“Yes—it was certainly their intent.” He nods to Nikki. “But they were pretty stupid. They shot the humans, not the vampires.”

“Did Peeters have any idea how they got access to these bullets?”

“Umm Miss Nikki?’ Samantha interrupts now by touching Nikki’s hand, “I’m sorry—but I’m not gonna get aids or anything am I? I—I . . . tried to use the wine bottle in your office as a sterilizer . . . “

“No, my dear –“ Nikki’s hand closing over Samantha’s to comfort her, “That was deer blood, Esther provided it.”

Samantha sighs and sits back in her chair relieved – not telling anyone of course that she had sat and worried about it for most of the night –

“Oh, no Sam, you’ll just get this overwhelming desire to wander into people’s gardens and eat their plants. If you don’t do that already.” Rhyaad grins at Sam.

“This makes very little sense. . . they could have easily shot us – but they shot Esther and Sam instead.”

Samantha cuts a hard glance at Rhyaad and grumbles about not needing an extra f**khole at the moment, thank you very much.

“What I don’t know at the moment— is who they were working for? Blair? Or is it someone else? And are Noah’s notes connected to Blair or not.”

“They were looking for us. Why? I don’t know. But now for the important news.” Rhy said leaning forward as if the room were filled with patrons he did not want to overhear, “The bullets were stolen from a police station in Prague that was attacked a while ago by, supposedly, a mob of thugs in a riot. Uh huh. Right—thugs do not attack police stations! It seems they released all the prisoners being held – but their motive apparently was to free just one special prisoner, and to get the anti-vampire bullets. But who was this special prisoner? What makes him so special? Is he a vampire? How did they know about the bullets? Why Prague? And are they members of the Starry Wisdom cult? There are many, many questions we must answer. We need to investigate. Therefore—” He paused for effect. “We are all going to Prague. Brush up on your Czech.”

Samantha’s frowns, “Can’t we just check a manifest on the names of all the released prisoners?”

He shakes his head. “This is an official investigation. And you’ll love Prague. It’s a beautiful city. One of the few Old World capitals not bombed in the world wars.”

“But, doesn’t official mean doing your paper research?”

“Se vám bude líbit Praze, moji přátelé” Rhy smiles.

Eleanor Campbell rises and smiles, “It seems you have things to discuss, I will see you later Rhy.”

He rises and bows slightly, “As always Eleanor it was wonderful seeing you.”

“Miss Collins,” She nods to Nikki, “Miss Brook.” And she makes her way through the lobby taking care not to slip on the snow melted slippery floor.

Esther opens the door, stepping in from the cold, holding it open for Miss Campbell, “Ma’am” She says.

‘Thank you.”

Samantha sighs, ‘Okay, so how long am I hiding in a wheel well for?”

Esther steps over to the table, “Hey folks.” Smoke from her cigarette slowly exhaling loosely around her words.

“Wheel well?” He looks aghast at Samantha, “I though you said you were sane now, Miss Brook. If that’s what you really think, I shall leave you here to have snowball fights with children and nibble on the neighbors’ petunias.”

“Esther,’ Nikki looks up, ” How are you feeling? I thought you were going to rest?”

Samantha glares across the table at him, “I don’t have a passport smartass.”

“Such things can be obtained, Miss Brook.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. I’m feein’ much better.” Esther steps over to the fireplace to toss her cigarette butt into the flames, “But, the house was big and quiet. So—passports? Going somewhere?”

“Well—we will have to see if Dr. Praetorius has connections — since he is assigned to help us—” Nikki replies in regards to possible assistance quickly obtaining a passport for Samantha.

“I’m glad to see that you both have recovered so quickly, Esther.” Rhyaad tells her. “And I was just explaining the details of what I have found out.”

“I thought they had you at the hospital Sam. Feeling better?” Esther asks as she takes a seat.

“Prague?” Nikki says thoughtfully.

Samantha looks at Esther, prepared to hear more about how crazy she is, “I left.”

Rhyaad gives Samantha yet another disapproving look and then turns to Esther, and repeats to her almost precisely word for word what he had told Nikki and Samantha previously concerning the ammunition, the riot, the escaped prisoner.

“You had that rehersed din’t ya.” Esther says as he concluded. She cocked her head to one side and asks, “Prague?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Can’t they steal bullets someplace else?” Then she looks back at Samantha, “And as for releasing yourself from a hospital. I’m not surprised, just disappointed.”

Samantha looks at her, “Why disappointed?”

“Cause I thought you had grown up.” Then she turns her attention back again to Rhyaad, “As for Prague? That’s in . . . Germany? Yes? No?”

“The Czech Republic, Esther. And do NOT call it Czechoslovakia. They get very offended if you say that.” He explained reaching over and taking the leather folder. “The bullets are made in Belgium, and distributed to police stations in Europe. But Prague, for some reason, seems to be important in this investigation.”

Nikki nods thoughtfully, “Just something Catronia Kaye said comes to mind – she said that one of the necromancers, Simon Orne, was supposed to have been killed a long time ago in Prague. That he had lived there as Josef Nadek. And so, it is possible that this could be connected to Blair – as she said Blair was really Orne.”

“I will remember.” Esther tells Rhy.

“So Esther, why should I have stayed?” Samantha asks.

“Because you took a bullet to the shoulder, and they are there to help you recover.”

“Hrm—if the Starry Wisdom and necromancers are connected to Prague, all the more reason for us to investigate there.” Rhyaad continued not wanting to be deterred from the prospect of seeing Prague once again.

“But it was a clean shot, it didn’t lodge anywhere. A bandage is all it needs.”

“We are just concerned for you Sam. ” Nikki looks over to her.

“Sam has a habit of doing things that are not good for her.” He mentions. “And yes. I was worried about you, Sam.”

Nikki touches her hand, “We all were.”

Samantha, her cheeks less rosy from the warmth of the tea room, blushes.

“The interfaith—“ Nikki suddenly changes the subject, or rather returns to the subject, “David . . . David first met the Interfaith in Prague. And Noah did suspect similarities with them and Starry Wisdom.”

“Apparently this Wonder City is the centre of everything.” Esther adds.

Looking at the tickets, Rhyaad suddenly says aloud, “Uh oh…” he remembers. “We will have to ask Peeters to reschedule our appointment. Either that or invest in some opaque wrappings. He made the appointment for mid-day.” He smiled at Nikki, “How do you feel about wearing a bhurka?”

“Or stage makeup . . . “ Samantha murmurs, “Its heavy, doesn’t corrode or melt under bright light—thick as hell too – most likely the worst it will do is make you look like a vampire.”

“Well — if it is a cloudy day.” Nikki suggests.

“Bhurka and goggles are safer.”

“It’s absurd,” Samantha replies as she mentally pictures Nikki trying to saunter through the street of Prague in a bhurka, “She’d attract to much attention.”

Esther frowns and shakes her head, “Look. Just change it to an evening meeting, why don’t ya.”

“Well, I do have my robes from the my meetings with the Scarlet Apostles—which has a convent near Prague as I understand, and some of them wear masks in honor of the Saint.” Nikki offers.

“We will work around the Horrid Orb problem somehow. It’s not like I haven’t before. But we should be planning our investigation ahead of time. Get together a fact sheet. Everything we know about the Cult, Prague, the necromancers, the SAIM. The whole ball of wax, as they say.”

“I am beginning to understand now why the Diogenes Club is interested in this case – it reaches from New England to Prague, and to–who knows where else.” Nikki combs her fingers through her blonde hair.

Esther asks Rhy, “Have ya had a chance to look at the new translation?”

“Not yet, Esther.” He admitted. “Too busy. And Oliver occupied some of my time. But you could repeat it perhaps?”

“Repeat it? It’s written down. I gave it to Nik.”

Esther looking over at the comfort of the fire, having made the walk from the Old House in the snowy night, turns to those gathered at the table, “So, why are we shouting across the table at each other. Come on. Lets sit by the fire.

Samantha leans her head back feeling a bit weak and looking pale as Esther gets up and walks to the chairs around the fire.

“Shouting? Was I loud?” He shrugged. By then the Chinese boy arrived with chai for them, and he motions that they follow Esther’s suggestion and be seated by the fire.

Samantha the last to rise, follows, staggering slightly.

“Samantha? What is wrong with you?” He asks now having become alarmed at her staggering.

“Nothing.” She mutters settling down but still looking very pale.

“Sam? It is not anything. Talk, now.”

“Sam, have you been walking around since you left hospital?” Nikki asks – she listens as Sam’s heart races from the exertion of just walking the little way from the table to the fireplace.

“Yes,” weakly, she answers.

“A gunshot wound is a trauma to the body – you have to take time to recover, Sam.” Nikki tells her, concerned at the lack of color. “Now, please, take care of yourself.”

“No—I’m not gonna be a deadweight to you . . . “

“You need to recover your strength.”

Rhyaad nods. “Better get lots of rest, Miss Brook.”

Samantha sighs adjusting the bandages.

“I’ll stay behind an watch ya.” Esther offers, “While Nik an Rhy go to Europe. Dun worry about it. You’ll just need to rest.”

“Oh? I was hoping you would come, Esther. Our ‘human companion’ as it were.” Rhyaad replies.

“I ain’t much for travel. And someone does need to watch Sam.”

Samantha frowns and curls up in the chair, feeling much too self-conscious.

Rhyaad nodded. “Very well then, Esther and Sam will hold down the fort in Collinsport, while Nikki and Oliver and I go to Europe and see Agent Peeters.”

Samantha reaches out a hand, “Can I see the tickets?” She asks, her voice not at all her usual bluster.

“I would rather you two not go to the office while we are away. I will have David recommend a security firm and I will have them watch the Old House, I would feel better with you there, Esther.” Nikki tells her.

“Why, if you’re not going?” He shakes his head and stretches out his hand. “Nikki, please.”

“I just wanna see.”

“You see with your eyes, Sam; not your hands.” Rhyaad tells her, and he nods to Nikki, “A wise precaution.”

“And stay inside, don’t give them another chance to use a sniper.” She adds.

“You got it boss.” Esther says looking over at Samantha.

Samantha peers at the tickets, which Rhyaad seems to hold up just to make light of her need to see the tickets, and she makes a mental note of all the flight numbers and airlines – London to Paris, flight 1212, Paris to Prague, flight 1586.

“And please, watch after Sam. If you will.” Nikki looks over to Esther.

“She will not leave the bedroom, or I will shoot her myself,” she glares at Sam.

Rhyaad snickers. “And bring her some raw carrots and garden salad to nibble on.”

Nikki suddenly turns to Sam, having caught her thoughts as she memorized the flight numbers, “Sam? What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” trying to look innocent.

Esther turns to Rhyaad and glares, “Sometimes, ya know, I just don’t get your humor.”

“Sam – I want you to rest, and recover. I fear there will be things far worse that Mark IV bullets and snipers to contend with before this is over.”

Samantha looks down.

“She poured the deer blood on herself and wondered if it would affect her, Esther.” He Rhyaad explained to her softly. “I told her she may get a strange desire to nibble on the neighbors’ gardens.”

“I didn’t know it was deer blood at the time” She hisses.

“Yes, I am sorry, I should have warned you about wine bottles around me – they rarely if ever actually contain wine.”

Rhyaad nodded at Nikki, then chuckled at Samantha. “You’re so cute when you’re angry,” he teased her.

“I hope they mistake you for a male hooker in Prague.” Samantha growls back at him, still curled up in her chair.

“Please.” Esther holds up her hand, “Guys! Chill. Lets review what we know.”

“The question is how does everything we know fit . . . ”

Esther nods, “We know that there is a cult named The Starry Wisdom.

“A cult that maintains it is really a church.” Nikki adds.

Esther nods, “And they where after Noah, and now they seem to be after us. Prolly to get that translation I gave ya.”

Rhyaad smiles at Samantha. “Sorry, I am bringing my boyfriend with me. And by the way, why did you copy our itinerary? Hmmm?”

“Yes, well, they were first after you apparently because of the first set of notes you received about Starry Wisdom and the interfaith – who moved out in the middle of the night right after we received that comparison.” Nikki ponders, “So the question is what is precisely the starting point? Was the Interfaith coincidence?”

“One of the main questions.” Rhy nods.

“I think the main one is who is this Blair person? And how is HE connected?”

“He is some sort of magician.” Rhy offers, “He worked with the projectionist, Finch, and probably killed him as well.”

“And so, we know that David meet the Interfaith in Prague. And we also, know what a Necromancer from Providence, Simon Orne, moved to Prague in the late 1700’s.”

“Perhaps Prague is a major outpost of this Cult?” Rhyaad suggests.

“He apparently lived there and was found to be using the name Josef Nadek in the late 1920’s, when it was presumed he had been killed during a raid on his home by concerned citizens, much like the raid, which supposedly lead to the death of Joseph Curwin.”

Esther nods, “Yes, it seems that Prague was a major outpost for them Interfaith devils too, yeah?”

“Right as we know that the Interfaith created a large complex in Prague.” Nikki explains, “And David told me he met them after he was attacked by highwaymen and nearly killed—then Eppeus came out of nowhere to saved him. And he was then later given assistance at their complex, where all of his stolen things just suddenly reappeared one morning.”

“They could still have cultists here—yet anouther reason for me to stay behind.” Esther said, never having liked the Interfaith and feeling now very vindicated.

“Hrmmm . . . . that all seems very suspicious, yes.”

“David, for reasons I have never fully understood allowed the Interfaith to build a complex here.” Nikki added.

“And since when do highwaymen appear nowadays.” Esther asks, “What? Do they shoot your tires out and capture you demanding “your money or your life”?”

“I sincerely hope that vampire eating woman is not in Prague. No, I take it back, her I can deal with; it’s the flaming priest and the insolent mind-raping vampire I detest the most.”

“Oh, now that is an excellent question, do they still have their complex in Prague?” Nikki looks to Rhy, “And so, just why did they come to Collinsport? And did they leave because they found whatever it was they had come for? If so, then it must not have had anything to do with Vera Endecott and the Shinning Trapezohedron – as they left before attack on Esther and Noah’s scroll and the Bangor attack and arrived before the films that were thought to have been destroyed of Vera Endecott were found and Ian Finch made plans to have them shown at the Collinsport Film Festival.”

“But this Starry Cult is looking for this Gem yes?” Esther asks.

Samantha listens and slumps forward a bit.

“Yes – they are.” Nikki nods, “So then, we have Natasha Snow, who arrives and then hired us to prove that Finch stole the films — which we know he did, eventually – first from the collector in Tampa, and then from himself.”

“And yes—a history of random attacks that are not random.”

“Then Noah meets Esther and connects Interfaith to Starry Wisdom.”

Rhyaad nods.

“And we are going in circles again. arrgh!” Esther grabs her head in exaggerated frustration.

Nikki rubs her fingers across her lips, still thinking aloud, “And then, someone attacks Esther to steal these notes, the ones that compare Interfaith and Starry Wisdom, which is the first time your attention is dranw to Starry Wisdom, the ones that Noah gave her, but lucky Esther made a second copy for me, which they –or someone – did not know about.”

“What if . . . what if it’s the Interfaith that is after us?” Rhyaad suddenly asks.

“But what if Interfaith and Starry Wisdom aren’t connected. What if someone tried to connect them for some reason?” Samantha asks, her head feeling very light – and she felt dizzy.

“But then, when they find the note on my desk, within days – they leave Collinsport! Why? Is it connected?” Nikki asks.

“If the Interfaith was after us, you know they would not use snipers, they would just eat us whole.” Esther shivers now just thinking about those Cultists.

“Right—they would just send in a popping bird woman. But, I think there is some connection, Sam.”

Samantha looks at Rhyaad, “Two names—one thing.”

“Yes, they left so suddenly after that…. there must be a connection.” Rhyaad ponders.

“That is my thought exactly,” Esther agrees, “But we have left something out.”

A log popped in the fireplace sending red embers dancing and Rhyaad sat and watched them as he listened to Sam and Esther make their arguments.

Nikki lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts, trying to detail the facts, chronologically as if there was some clue to be gleamed there, “Then, we deduced that they have activated the Farnsworth Projector, stolen of course from the Miskatonic University, no doubt by Finch, who by this time has become quite the capable thief, and, from some process, which we as yet have not ascertained, they were able to bring Vera, bodily, out of the film, within which she had been transferred – perhaps just before the grisly demise of her body — and in transferring her into Natasha’s body—they murdered her.” She idly combs her fingers back through her hair, “And from the conversation overheard by Rhy, we know Blair arrives in Colllinsport in order to make this happen, and, from Catronia Kaye and The Diogenes Club, we know that Blair is really Simon Orne. Then someone kills Finch – which has to be Orne. When suddenly, unexpectedly, there’s this attack on Esther – but what preceded this? Why did they wait so long to make a move against her? More importantly, was the gunman who attacked us in Collinsport working for Orne?

“D*** IT Nik. Listen to me. Your stuck in a loop!” Esther interjects, thinking hard now about some of the vampire myths she had researched once she knew about Nikki – about how there was this belief that to ward off a vampire you just threw loose straw on the ground before them as they would have to stop to pick up every strand of straw . . . like they were some kind of compulsive/obsessives. “Think about it like this. What is their ultimate goal? What do the cultists, interfaith, Wisdom, both whatever, what do they want? In the end?

“Change.” Samanatha says.

“Then why did Vera not run off to Prague with Orne/Blair?” Rhyaad asks, his attention drawn back from the fire.

“They want to change the world.”

“Change? That’s putting it lightly.” He says, “They want to bring their deity, Nyarlathotep, to Earth.”

“Catronia Kaye strongly suggested that, yes. That there is some plan a foot to trade Vera to Richard Upton Pickman for something, and they are but waiting for Hutchinson to arrive – from Transylvania.”

“That is the final goal.” Rhyaad agrees.

“And how do they plan to accomplish this goal?” Esther asks.

“They want the Shining Trapezohedron thing.” He answers her.

“Right. Now, the map that Noah gave us shows us where it is—Nik, you read the translated poem to us please?”

“Yes, Nikki recite the poem for me again, please.”

Nikki returning from her thought looks at them.

“NIk, you still have the paper I gave you, I hope.” Esther asks as she cuts a glance over to Samantha who seems unusually quite tonight.

“Yes, safely locked away at the Old House.” She replies.

Esther sighs, “I guess I’ll just go get it then.”

“No that is okay, I can remember it.”

Esther looks at Nik a bit skeptical, “Really?”

“Epititaph of a Alchemist.” Nikki begins:

“My City, the dirty river running through it.
You who search for the Gleaming Gem, follow its path downstream and seek the key.
If you follow the river downstream, you will find an Island.
On the Island, look for the shore the two will tell you of.
There sleeps the key to the Gleaming Gem.
He who lays hand upon the key shall commit the acts below.”

Nikki frowns.

“At the first hour, you shall collect the six chosen by the key, and place them about in protective branches.
At the second hour, the population must tear apart the two who are close.
At the third hour, the population shall praise my horrible name on high.
At the fourth hour, gouge the head and kill.”

The door of the Nightingale opens and a woman enters.

Rhyaad’s frown grows deeper and deeper as he listens to the recitation. He turns now to look to the woman just entering, and his eyes glimmered with recognition.

“At the fifth hour, gouge the chest and kill.
At the sixth hour, gouge the stomach and kill.
At the seventh hour, gouge the knee and kill.
At the eighth hour, gouge the leg and kill.
At the ninth hour, the Witch shall be revived and none shall be left alive.”

Esther looks at Nikki impressed that she can recall the poem so accurately – but then again, Nikki can be quite impressive.

She notices now as Nikki concentrates to remember the remaining stanzas of the poem.

“At the tenth twilight, the journey shall end and you should reach the cursed island of the Gem.
The Witch will praise the wise, and should bestow four treasures.
One shall be, the view of the Gleaming Gem.
One shall be, the control of the souls of all the dead.
One shall be, the resurrection of a lost love.
One shall be, to put the Witch to sleep for all time .

Sleep peacefully, my most beloved witch, Mason.”

Samantha looking pale, slight beads of sweat on her upper lip, turns to ask, “So we need to find two people to tell us about an island?”

His frown turns into a scowl, Rhyaad taps his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Useless drivel. We are certainly not going to murder people ritually, praise Nyarlathotep, and set this Witch loose on the world.”

Esther ponders the poem for a moment, “So does anyone know any cities with islands in their rivers?”

“Pittsburgh . . .” Samanatha offers, “Has two of them.”

“Any of them particularly cursed?” Esther asks.

“Well, if you count abandoned factories on one, “ Samantha replied, curling tighter in her chair, “And nothing on the other as cursed, that I know.”

The woman who had entered approaches and listens with interest.

Rhyaad rises and goes to the far table and comes back with a laptop, then begins to be absorbed as he seems to be looking up something.

“Does anybody see any clues in the words? I’m no good with this sort of” Esther suddenly looks up at the woman standing near, “thing—ah, Lord Sauran has many spies—“

“Dirty river.” Samantha says aloud.

“New Orleans?” Nikki offers.

“Pittsburgh, Chicago, New York, LA, or New Orleans – any one of them.” Samantha adds.

The woman walked over to stand beside Rhy, watching as his fingers clicked upon his laptop and looking it over as if she were acutely curious as to what he was looking up.

“If we were staying you know in America.”

“Lord Sauran? Who in the Nine Hells is that, Esther.” Rhyaad asks without looking up at the woman beside him, “Welcome Professor Steam. The waiter will help you. Please have a seat, most of our customer have gone for the night. I suggest chai.”

“Maybe St. Louis.”

“Yes, if we stay American.” Nikki says now very distracted with the new arrived Professor Steam, whom Rhyaad seemed to know – aware that Esther too was eyeing the woman very suspiciously.

“O minutu, moji přátelé.” Rhyaad said with a flourish.

Professor Steam nods to Rhyaad, “Thank you Rhyaad,” and she walked over to a table and took a seat as the Chinese waiter came over and took her order as she looks up at the picture of Tesla with a smile thinking of the good times they had together.

Rhyaad returns to his study of maps of the Czech Republic.

Samantha leans back into her chair.

Esther now is very reticent to talk further with a stranger in the room – she usually feels the necessity to remain silent when there are just only waiters around.

“There are six islands in the river.” He announced. “Ostrov Srvanica? Those islands are not in Prague. These are.”

Samantha looks over her shoulder at him, “The poem doesn’t mention Prague.”

“Cisalsky Ostrov? Ne. It has streets. Who lives on a cursed island?”

“Stupid alchemists.” Samantha complains, “Why can’t we just clap our hands, slap the floor and be done with it?”

“Cisahika Louka! Two islands, side by side, both uninhabited.” He says bringing his laptop over to show them the screen.

ProfessorSteam looks at Samantha curious at what she meant by that comment–alchemists.

Esther whispers up to Rhyaad, as he shows her the laptop screen, “Should we really be talking about this, now that there is a customer here?”

“Cursed land, Starry Wisdom, islands in the river, Nyarlathotep, necromancers . . . it all comes together in Prague, perhaps.” He says absorbed with Prague.

Nikki tilts her head and looks over at the woman, “Oh, yes, a Customer, Rhyaad.”

Professor Steam, aware she was being watched smiles at the Chinese boy, returning with the cup of tea, and paid for it. She took a sip, “Mmmm lovely.” She says trying to act as if she is unaware of the conversation which she is very interested in eavesdropping upon.

“Oh. That’s Professor Steam.” Rhyaad says closing the laptop, which had been zoomed in on the river snaking its way through Prague. “Sorry Professor. We were—busy. Could I get you something?”

“Not at all my friend I was just curious about your activities and came to see if I could help any.”

“Well, our activities are rather dangerous. And people who know these things tend to become targets.” He explained.

Professor Steam smiles wryly, “I’m always a target whether I know it or not.” And she just took her cup of tea taking another sip enjoying the wonderful taste.

Rhyaad looks at her, “I would not know what you mean by that, Professor. Why would you always be a target? But we certainly are, and targeted by some very dangerous people.”

Samantha shifting in her chair, leans forward trying to get comfortable, leaves a small bloodstain on the seat back—

Nikki turns from Rhyaad suddenly as she detects the heady scent of blood – human blood.

“Samantha! You are bleeding! What is the meaning . . .. You weren’t discharged from the hospital. You just left!” He blurts out at the woman.

Samantha, her voice filled with lassitude, answers, “Never said I was discharged.”

Then he turns to stare at Samantha with an icy piercing glare. “You are still as crazy as a jaybird, Miss Brook. I don’t care what any doctor you fooled says. You are insane.”

“I just need to change the damn bandage.”

“Sam—perhaps we should check your wound?” Nikki says growing concerned.

Samantha looks at Nikki and blushes, “I-I think I’ll be ok . . .”

Rhyaad continues his cold stare at Samantha. “Perhaps you do, but your doctor did not. Sane women do not walk out of hospitals bleeding with gunshot wounds. Sane women do not assume that I mean for them to crawl in a jet’s wheel well. Sane women do not crawl into jet’s wheel wells as a means of transportation. You are a loony, Sam.”

Nothing more than what she expected, “Shut up Rhyaad—“

“You heard me.”

“Shut . . . up . . . You have no idea what I been through—“ She rises to her feet wobbling slightly.

“Sam, let’s you and I go and take a look at this in the bathroom” Nikki tells her.

“I have been through far worse then you could imagine in 10 lifetimes, Miss Brook.”

Esther sighs heavily watching Rhyaad and Sam continue to go at each other, “Nor you, us. So, now can we all please sit down, stop insulting each other, and get someplace more secure to talk about the dangerous things?”

For the first time since coming to Collinsport, Samantha ignores Nikki and staggers over to Rhyaad, slapping him hard.

“I shall do a you ask, Esther. I’ll stop saying the truth. But I meant what I said.” He looks coldly at Samantha seemingly unfazed by the slap. “You’ll have to slap a lot harder than that to hurt me, Miss Brook.”

Esther sighs and places her forehead in her hand.

“You . . . you do what makes sense for you to live . . . and I . . . I . . . do . . . the same.”

Nikki rises and grabs Sam’s hand, “Let’s take a look at you, come with me.”

“Who’re are you to call me insane!” She struggles against Nikki, pouting, petulant.

“Except in your case, what you do is more likely to make you die. And you are intelligent enough to know this.”

“You are not insane!” Nikki says, her voice taunt as she leads Samantha to the restroom.

“But I said I would shut up . . . . “ Rhyaad watches them as they head to the restroom, “Go make sure she is not bleeding to death, please, Nikki.”

Nikki opens the door and walks into the restroom.

Samantha follows staggering and stumbling a bit, not having the strength to resist anymore—giving in to Nikki who is pulling her along like a stern mother about to have a word with her daughter.

The bathroom is very clean, although there is a wadded ball of toilet paper left on the counter by the sink. The room smells of air-freshener, Renuzit Apple & Cinnamon, and the slight trace of a disinfectant. Nikki’s her long fingers push open each of the doors to the toilet stalls in order to be certain they are alone.

“You could tell me more of your ideas while they’re gone, Esther. I promise to stop pestering Samantha with the obvious.” Rhyaad sighs and returns to his seat to look at Esther.

“Sam, now come here and let me see that wound.” Nikki says turning to face the pale and unsteady Samantha Brook – who appears now too stubborn to fall on the floor, which is something Nikki strongly suspects she is about to do.

Samantha nods and settles on a stall, not making eye contact with the lovely blonde.

Nikki steps into the threshold of the stall door, and carefully slides Samantha’s coat off . . . the young red-haired woman grimacing as she moves her shoulder. The shoulder of Samantha’s olive tank-top is spotted with crimson, and this close to her, she not help but savor the far too alluring scent of her blood. Nikki’s blue eyes darkening, she steps forward and her fingers nimbly begin to slip under the straps of her top, opening it to see the bandage stained red with blood.

“Please do.” Esther says flatly, “It is true that she has some problems, but right now, we have to stand as one and solve this thing. So, what do you know about the witch named? Mason?”

Samantha sits adverting Nikki’s eyes – extremely aware of the closeness, of Nikki there within the narrow confines of the stall, the two of them together — the sensation of her agile fingers brushing against her flesh.

“Mason… nothing at all. Could it be a reference to the Freemasons?”

Nikki’s fingers slip the straps of her top down over her shoulder.

“I think it would be first a good idea to find out who the witch is. It may help us find out what city he is talking about.”

“But Esther, how can we possibly use this information? We are not going to ritualistically murder people and summon this Witch to wreak havoc on the world.”

“Sam, this is bleeding again.” Nikki says as she carefully pulls back the bandage.

“Prague has a long muddy river with lots of islands. Good place to start, say I, since Blair lives there. Orne—or whatever names he is going by—this century.”

Nikki takes a long sigh, resisting the desires awakened by the sight and scent of her lovely blood. “Did . . . you happen to take some extra bandages out of hospital with you?”

“Ummm,” Samantha replies, oddly finding herself sitting with a strange mix of emotions—as she reaches into her bag sitting by the toilet she is using as seat and pulling out one roll of bandages and some pure alcohol.

“True. But if they figure it out, we need to know where to be to try and stop em, and I really don’t feel comfortable talking about this with that customer here. Anyone could be a spy . . . “ Esther tells him, “And most likely is – what do you even know about her? Where did she come from? Are you sure we can trust this professor?”

“Steam is no spy. A little quirky, perhaps, but she’s a good woman.” Rhyaad explains looking over to the Professor and giving her that little bow of his head. The Professor nods back and smiles.

Nikki takes the roll of bandages and alcohol from her, “Sam, why—why did you leave the hospital?”

Of course Esther is not at all reassured – who is this woman? Where did she come from, so suddenly – he’s never mentioned her before: “Well . . . alright . . . “

“I have no reason to distrust her.” He adds.

“Hospitals are bad places…” Samantha murmurs.

Nikki begins to remove the old bandage.

Esther, when Rhyaad looks away, rolls her eyes at that comment. What, was that supposed to insure confidence – it only adds to her growing paranoia.

Samantha winces a bit and looks up at the curtain of blonde hair falling across Nikki’s face, the dark blue eye that is visible, while the other is veiled by the soft strands of her hair.

“Hrm—“ Rhyaad suddenly turns to look at Esther, “Should I be worried about having the bloody Sam bandaged by a young vampire?”

“I trust Nik. Rhyaad.” She tells him, “When you are in Prague. Or even before you get to Prague, can you and Nik find out who the witch Mason is?”

Nikki tosses the bandage in the small trash receptacle.

Samantha watches demurely, feeling like she has messed up again.

Nikki looks up and catches Samantha’s eye looking at her; her eyes responding to give Samantha a knowing look in return, a look that says she knows how Samantha feels, with her being so close, her fingers touching her – even as she lets her eyes run along the ridge of Samantha’s collarbone, the tender flesh of her neck, the weeping wound.

“Do you think you can do that Rhy?”

Professor Steam, fingers double-handing the tea cup just sits and listens, none too casually eavesdropping, but not about interfere for she is not in the mood . . . and not really able to at the moment, not until she has been given word from her higher ups.

“We’ll work on it. We’ll cogitate on the whole poem. But frankly it makes little sense to me. I don’t know where to start with that. A witch named Mason? Should not a witch have a more exotic name?”

“Can you—please tell me why you left hospital?” Nikki says and begins to unroll part of the roll of gauze.

Esther just shrugs—she can’t very well change the witch’s name. “I’m not the brains here. Maybe Nik knows. Although, she has been rather scatter brained lately.”

Nikki kneels now before Samantha preparing to redress the wound.

“Really? How so, Esther?”

“Bad memories—“ Samantha mutters, “I didn’t want to stay . . . or have those memories again.”

Nikki looks up reading her thought, “Your eye? The emergency room? Memories of that night.”

“When we where discussing the whole thing. She kept going around in circles.” Esther explains her comments about Nikki—which has her a bit worried.

“Well, yes, those . . . and . . . other memories . . .”

“I will do research on a Witch Mason, then. And yes, it could be a name, or she could have been a stone worker, or even a Freemason.”

Rhyaad opens his laptop again.

“Good because, unlike you and Nik, I have to get some sleep.”

“Most hospitals aren’t . . . kind . . .to people like me . . .”

Esther stands up, buttoning her coat, “Say goodnight to Nik and Sam when they come back, please.”

“I shall do so Esther.” He gave up the idea of persuading her to stay, knowing the injury and events of the last few days had taken a toll on her. “Good night.”

Casually strolling toward the door, she called back over her shoulder, “Good night.” And steps back outside into the cold and the lightly falling flakes of snow.

“A’a dome vara lle, Esther.” Rises to call after her, and then he walks over to sit with the Professor, ”Sorry if I seemed to ignore you. But our plans . . . they become rather complicated. And Esther does not trust strangers. Wisely.”

“Sam – those are just memories. The doctors were only going to help you – you have to know I would not have sent you there if I thought they would hurt you.” Nikki says and looks at the wound that has opened a bit and weeps blood.

Nikki works with the gauze to form a new bandage.

Samantha looks down on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry . . . Miss Collins.”

She looks up, “Nikki.”

“It’s alright you have your problems. I’m here to help if I can.’ The Professor smiled at Rhyaad.

Nikki reaches up and put her thumb under Samantha’s chin, and lifts her head, “Sam, I am not angry.”

Rhyaad nodded. “I don’t think there is anything you can do. But I do appreciate the offer. Unless you could go back in time and spy on Orne and find out where he hid the Shining Trapezohedron.”

“I am concerned for you.” Nikki starts to place the bandage on the wound.

Samantha winces a bit: “I . . . I . . .” and she starts sobbing softly.

“I could try but I’m not saying I would succeed,’ The Professor tells him.

“I know your past haunts you, but you have to let it go.” Nikki tells her.

Rhyaad gets up and goes over to the ornate cabinet just behind them and returns with a tray upon which sit little jade cups and teabag frogs. A whistle causes the boy to come and return with a silver tray bearing a pitcher and containers of cream.

Samantha nods.

“My past haunts me every night . . .” Nikki suddenly stops and looks at the weeping wound. She remembers something Rhyaad had once done for her.

“How do you let go?”

“It would be like finding a needle in a haystack.” He pours two little jade cups of hot chai spice tea, stirs in a lump of sugar and a bit of cream, and then puts them on saucers. He hands one over to Profesor Steam. “A spot of tea for you, Ma’am”, he says now affecting a charming British accent.

“It is not at all easy.” Nikki admits.

“What if I’m not—“

Professor Steam giggled and nodded, “Thank you kind Sir.”

Nikki, kneeling before Samantha, looks up at her, “I am going to try something—do you trust me?”

Rhyaad sits back with his cup of tea, “I lived in London thrice you know. For a year in 1791. About 20 years in the late nineteenth century, and from 1960 to 1965.”

“I trust you—Nikki” Oh, she love saying that name.

“Good.” And Nikki moves closer as she feels her fangs begin to distend.

Sam sits watches as Nikki moves closer toward her, as she reaches out with her tongue and begins to lick the small bullet wound.

Samantha bites her lower lip slightly and shivers.

Nikki savors the taste of blood and has to use all of her willpower not to succumb to the urge to bite.

Nikki very slowly licks the wound clear of blood.

A little moan escapes Samantha’s lips as she feels goosebumps begin to form.

Nikki, with the wonderful taste of Sam in her mouth, the looks to see that wound continues to weep it’s lovely redness — which is not what she had expected. She had expected to see the would begin to close – so, she wasn’t doing something right, and so, still kneeling there in the bathroom stall before Samantha, she tried to remember, she thought back to when Rhy had tried to help close the wounds when she had been so brutally stabbed – and then, suddenly she remembered.

And so, Nikki now bites down on her own tongue filling her mouth now with the copper taste of her own blood — and then once more leans close to Samantha and begins to lick Sam’s shoulder wound.

This time she was rewarded with seeing the flesh about the wound beginning to close, stemming the flow of blood.

Nikki looks up: Sam now sees her sweet lips stained with her blood, sees her very long and sharp eyeteeth, sees those beautiful light blue eyes now having gone dark, nearly black. She sees a vampire kneeling before her.

“Would you like a scone, Miss Steam?” Rhyaad asks in his affected British accent.

Professor Steam chuckled, “You love being British don’t you?” She nodded for the scone.

Nikki suddenly pulls herself away, running the back of her hand across her lips, wiping her own blood and the blood from Samantha’s shoulder.

“Indubitably,” he replies and then called the waiter back for scones.

Samantha looks down and then touches where the hole was, “Miss Nikki!”

“Sam, here.” She hands her the bandage.

Samantha takes the bandage watching as Nikki rises and moves away.

Nikki grabs the edge of the sink and holds it tightly.

The Chinese boy would return with two scones on delicate china plates.

‘Y-you should—begin to feel better now.” Nikki tells her.

“Miss Nikki? Are you ok?” Samantha rises from her seat on the toilet and steps closer to her.

Nikki shivers.

Samantha hesitates, reaches out, putting a hand on her back.

“Y-yes, better now, yes.” She turns to look at her, her eyes less dark, lightening as Nikki regains control.

Samantha looks concerned, “What’s wrong Miss Nikki?”

Nikki takes Sam’s hand and interlocks her fingers within Sam’s fingers, “Nikki.”

Samantha smiles softly staying close, “Nikki.”

Nikki looks at her, reaches out her hand and brushes back Samantha’s red hair. Then suddenly she kisses her, ardently.

Samantha melts into the kiss.

Cue Music End of Episode.