Night Visitor at The Nightingale

Rhyaad de’Annar has found the quaint town of Collinsport to have piqued his interests, so much so that he has decided to open a business establishment and become part of the Community. And so tonight is the Grand Opening of his fabulous tearoom, The Nightingale. Among the many guests and curious patrons, he expects to see his new friend Nikki Collins, who even now approaches, but either is aware of what this night will signify . . . what secrets are about to be revealed

Rhyaad sat in the ornately carved chair, facing the door, eager see all those who entered on this his first night of official business. There had been the curious, of course, but nobody seemed to get the ‘teahouse’ scene quite yet. And he had to admit, each time the door opened, he was expecting to see Nikki enter – but it was getting late and he had begun to worry, just a bit – that perhaps she might have succumbed to a desire he had hoped his counseling had helped her gain some control over – and so, he waited.

The night was chill; the air held the first hints of the winter to come but of course Nikki didn’t feel it as she approached The Nightingale. Oddly her heels in the gravel and dirt did not succumb to the uneven walk she might once affected in having to cross it’s uneven surface. Her stride was now so precise – at times she found herself feeling absolutely feline. She had been out on her usual nightly walk with the intent of seeing Rhyaad – it was the night of his Grand Opening – but the night sky had captivated her and she hand been wandering in the night much longer than she had intended.

Approaching the ornate doors, Nikki, having on an earlier occasion been invited into The Nightingale she did not hesitate to open the door and enter.

Now precisely at the same moment, as Nikki was opening the door and stepping through the threshold, there was a woman dressed all in red, who had been just entering before her. Nikki at once took note that she looked a bit peculiar; out of place for Collinsport; her features were a little too perfect, her ears were pointed, she wore red glasses at night, and most curious of all was she had a swishing a tail! This all registering in Nikki’s mind at the very second that The Woman in Red bumps into her as they enter also most simultaneously, “Oh, do excuse me, ma’am.”

“Oh, please, excuse me, I was . . . I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Nikki said distracted by the tail.

From across the room, Rhyaad watched now as the curious Woman in Red entered. With her features, he might have thought her an elf, were it not for her… tail? Which was certainly odd for Collinsport, and so he could not help but stare. As he stood looking with interest he then saw Nikki entering just behind her as they seemed to be almost entering at the same time . . . so that . . . they actually bumped into each other. He watched this all in some enthralled fascinatation.

The Woman in Red smiled. Nikki took note that every last one of her teeth came to a most deadly point.

“Oh, is it standing room only already?” Nikki asked, attempting to start a conversation with The Woman in Red.

“Oh My!” Rhayaad suddenly recoiled and looked around, wondering just how he could hide this female creature before she frightened the humans away. Fortunately, nobody seemed to have noticed her—yet.” Nikki now spotting Rhyaad motioned to him.

“Oh, are you very busy tonight? Room for one—two more?” she asked the young hostess working the door.

Rhyaad made his way quickly to the door and then rather rudely spoke to the woman: “Listen, Miss whatever-you-are, you keep your pointy-teeth hidden in your mouth and tell people you are dressed for Halloween. Or a movie, or something. Or you will become the first person I throw out.”

To this The Woman in Red says nothing, but instead gives Rhyaad a very deathly, disdainful look; and then, snaps her fingers, and the tail, teeth, and ears all become normal—to which Nikki raised a brow . . . yet one more strange citizen in Collinsport. Where other might have been overwhelmed, she merely let her keen gaze now move across the tearoom.

The Nightingale’s door opened yet again and a rather tall gentleman dressed in a rather green coat and wearing a red fez entered. He now joined the busy ante-room of the teahouse. “Random tale…’ he thought silently to himself. Having just seen the swishing tail before it’s sudden disappearance, he merely shrugged, not really shocked by it, but he could tell instantly that his old friend Rhyaad was not at all pleased. He had upon entering overhead of course Rhyaad’s angry threat to kick the woman out. It was the first thing he heard. And once Gregory was through the door, his hand would slowly drift into his pocket. “Having fun tonight, Rhyaad?”. He asked a bit sarcastically.

The Woman in Red, having acquiesced to Rhyaad’s demands, was a still piqued at his tone and manner, “And for your information, the name is Morgan. Morgan Lestrice.”

Rhyaad raises an eyebrow sharply. “Neat trick. I will want you to explain that to myself and my friend here.” He bowed to Nikki. “Morgan, then. This is Nikki Collins.” he introduced his new friend.

“So very nice to meet you.” Nikki replied and nodded her head with a smile.

“Ah”, he looked to the man in green, “This is also a friend of mine, Gregory. Perhaps we should all sit together? I can find seats.”

Through the busy teahouse, Rhyaad guided his guest toward the fireplace; just as the group that had been sitting rather suddenly arose to leave. Nikki smiled and slightly tossed back her hair as she wondered if Rhyaad had projected that suggestion to the group of warm mortals.

They soon were seated out the fire. To Nikki, as she sat looking at the flames, the remembrance of a fire’s warmth was suddenly something she longed to feel again, but was merely satisfied for the moment to just watch the flame slick up around the logs. The fire smelled very nice, cedar logs.

“Well then, Morgan Morgan Lestrice, are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the communist Party?” Gregory asked abruptly, and then, without waiting for an answer immediately turned his gaze upon Rhyaad apparently answering a question that had not yet asked: “Yes, I want a delicious beverage.”

From her walk, Nikki was famished, and the thought of a warm drink was an excellent idea, ” That would be wonderful. I know I could certainly use a drink.” Nikki added looking up to Rhyaad with a knowing smile.

The Woman in Red, having heard the abrupt question regarding communists moved around to take a seat opposite the small table between the conformable chairs arranged before the fireplace.

As if distracted, Nikki watches Morgan sit and then offers “After you Morgan” in way of apology for earlier having bumped into her at the entrance.

Suddenly Gregory states: “You have not answered. You are clearly a communist, look how you dressed in Bolshevik colors.”

Nikki detecting her friend’s annoyance, looks up at Rhyaad and asks|, “And so, how has Opening Night been?”

In a perfect Icelandic accent, Morgan replies, “Ah the Bolsheviks . . . rather an annoying lot. Took a perfectly utopian ideology and twisted it to meet their own ends.”

Rhyaad now contrite for his earlier behavior spoke up, “Miss Morgan Lestrice, I apologize for my anger earlier. It’s just that I do intend to run a business and we must at all times appear to be…” he lowered his voice. “Human. You do understand?” He now turned to Nikki. “Fine. Though most people don’t stay long. I don’t they have quite ‘got it’ yet.” Finally he rolled his eyes at the man in green. “Please, Gregory, not everyone who wears red is a communist. And Miss Lestrice, please excuse my friend also. He’s a bit… crazy, at times. But he means well.”

Ignoring Rhyadd, Gregory continues, “Well, I wouldn’t call it perfectly utopian,” He replied, raising an eyebrow. “If you actually read Marx and Engels manifesto, they advocate violent revolution by a Vanguard Party. That’s not very utopian to me.”

“But are they not all dead now?” Nikki asks as she turns her languid head to look over the main room of the tearoom.

“There is still a communist party in the Russian Federation, which can trace itself back to the Bolsheviks.” Gregory was quick to point out.

But, then not hearing his remarks, Nikki thinks to herself: “Oh, then I guess that begs the question of a definition of dead, now doesn’t it.”

“But, Gregory . . . From each according to his abilities; to each according to his needs . . . the Marxist ideals are much preferable to this uncaring capitalism that sometimes is another name for social Darwinism, would you not say?” Rhyaad interjects.

“Every time humanity tried it, it turned into violent dictatorship.”

“Rhyaad,” Nikki’s ice blue eyes look at him with a glint of humor, “Is it at all possible to get one of your famous Mary’s rather bloody?” she asks wryly.

Rhyaad grinned at Nikki’s comment. “Well, I know for a fact that a few of the old school soviets are, shall we say, members of our club.”

Nikki nodded vaguely, “That was why I had to retract my statement” She said with a smile.

Gregory shook his head “Especially officers of the NKVD, and latter KGB Rhyaad. Not something I’d boast about, honestly.”

Rhyaad nodded. “Indeed. But I’ll have to get THAT myself. I have no understanding help yet.” He turned to the woman in Communist colors. “And you, Miss? What would you drink?”

Then, before she could answer, he cuts a comment to Gregory, “I haven’t really cared, Gregory. I suppose they are still out there somewhere, embittered and feeding on wolves in Siberia or something.”

“I suppose I’ll have a water.” Morgan said, “Simple is best.”

Apparently distracted since she had arrived, Nikki suddenly looks over at the gentleman in the red Fez, “Oh, I am sorry, Gregory. I’m Nicole Collins, but do please call me Nikki.”

But Gregory is lost to his thoughts: “To my knowledge most of them have found pretty nice positions in the Russian Federal military/industrial bureaucracy. Especially on the corporate side of things. A LOT of former Soviet officials have found new fortunes with the rise of capitalism.” He then looks up to Rhyadd. “And I shall have any tea that has grape in it.”

“Tea with grape. . . I can do that,”

Rhyadd nodded to Morgan, “Always a wise choice. If you’ll excuse me . . . .” He rose and went to the kitchen to open the cabinet that he still didn’t have a person ‘in the know’ as yet to handle.

“Well yes,” Nikki says her British accent very noticeable,” But if communism is so bad, why does China own most of the Capitalistic world?”

Gregory laughed loudly, shaking his head. “Because China is NOT real communism. Marx would roll in his grave. If he could see Chinese supposed communism.”

“I am sure he has,” Nikki smiled.

“They’ve been a prosperous market economy for decades, especially after Tien-An-Men Square.”

Nodding, as if only half listening to the conversation Nikki remarked, “Power comes from the barrel of a Gun, I think the Chairman said in that little red book of his.”

“Mao?” Gregory responds quickly, “Sounds like something he would say.”

“And tanks have very big guns.” Nikki nods. Then looks over at Gregory, “Oh, yes, it was Mao, came from his famous little red book. Everyone had to read it before the Gang of Four and the Cultural Revolution. “ She combs her fingers lazily back through her hair, “I think he is more like Stalin now, someone they try to forget.”

“Nah, his portraits still hang all over the PRC. They just gloss over the bad bits. Not at all like destalinization in the USSR and latter RF.” Gregory corrects.

Still looking languidly about the room Nikki’s blue eyes brighten as she sees Rhyaad returning now with her drink.

“WHERE IS MY BEVERAGE?” Gregory asks loudly.

Nikki looks at him, “Ah, well I have been to Moscow, but sadly, not to China.”

Rhyaad came back to them now bearing a tray with 4 vessels. He put in front of his chair and Nikki’s tall ceramic opaque cylinders from which an unmistakable odor, to those with the right nose, emanated. He gave a tall glass of sparkling spring water to the other woman and finally gave the gentleman in he red Fez a cup of tea. “White tea with grape juice”, he announced. He sat and sipped at his cylinder. “In other books and sayings, Power is Virtue, and Virtue is Power. But that was a China older than I am.”

Gregory nods, “Diny, the air quality will be bad for the next century . . . Grape!” He shouted eagerly as he took the beverage from Rhyaad, smiling and sipping it. “So why do you have a tail?” He said flatly to Morgan.

Nikki now sits back and quietly sips her drink. She closes her eyes for a moment to savor the taste. “Excellent temperature.” She says to Rhyaad, to which he smiled and took a sip himself before commenting, “Gregory asks what I would like to know, if undiplomatically.”

Morgan smiled, and for a split second, one could sworn there was a slight glow behind her glasses, “Is a supernatural being so strange to company such as this?” She asked rather pointedly.

Nodding to his friend Gregory, Rhyaad tried to explain, “You must forgive him: he’s a military scientist, not a diplomat. And no, not in present company, Miss. Not at all. Still… the question remains.”

“No.” Gregory making sure Rhyaad is not speaking for him, “What specifically are you?”

Nikki seated next to Rhyaad leans over and whispers, “He is direct, isn’t he?”

“Formerly human.” Morgan replies.

“Excuse me, Rhyaad, I’m the mother fucking Lord of Time, I know what mother fucking Macellus Wallace fucking looks like, do you?” He had randomly adopted the voice of Samuel L Jackson for that bit, though he had no reason to.*

To which, Nikki retorted, “Tasty beverage,” taking another sip.

Rhyaad looked at Nikki, he noted she seems unusually distracted this evening. “Yes, indeed he is. Sometimes I feel like twapping him.” He smiled at Greg, “But of course, one should really watch ones Language, Gregory. There are ladies present.”

“Formerly human, you’re really good at being specific, do you know that?”

“Would you prefer I say I was “complicated”?

“No.” Gregory said honestly.

“Specifically, I’m a sort of Contractor.” Morgan explained.

“Perhaps if you just told our master interrogator here what you are now?” He glugged most of the ‘beverage’ down in one gulp and sat back, letting the heady feeling soothe him.

“You take to long.” Gregory waved a hand dismissively, as he lifted up his glass of tea. “I’ve lost interest.” With that, he took another sip.

Nikki’s blue eyes darken as she turns to look at Morgan. Contractor – what kind of contractor – of late she had reached her limit as to individuals who hunted Vampires. And the sound of the word, contractor, tonight, for some reason suggested to her “hit men”, “wetwork operators”, stakes, and silver knives. Of course, she wasn’t at all sure where that thought had come from—

“Really, Greg, I’d think someone of your age would have more patience.” Rhyaad said and turned to Morgan. “Contractor for whom?”

Nikki looked at Gregory, “I think we are all formerly human—would that include you Gregory?”

“I represent Renon and Morgan, Attorneys at Law.’ Morgan said, her eyes obscured by the red-rimmed sunglasses, “Don’t let the name fool you. We do a lot more than legal advice and representation.”

“Ah. Then are you a competitor with Harker and Hawkins? And what special services do you insinuate, Miss?”

He then leaned over and spoke in a whisper towards Nikki. “Let your eyes grow bright, Nikki. Then look . . . really look at him (indicating Gregory) And listen, to the depth of your ability.”

“We offer the services of various special vendors, charter inter-realm travel, mercenaries, among other things. “Morgan said matter-of-factly.

“Inter-realm travel?” Rhyaad’s eyes brightened. “Now you have my attention.”

Mercenaries caught Nikki’s.

“And I’m sure your properly registered as a private military company with the US government, then?” Gregory chuckled lightly

Nikki turned to look at Gregory, her eyes growing brighter blue as she looked at him unblinkingly. And suddenly aware of the intensity of her stare, he turned to look at her, “Can I help you?” He said, raising an eyebrow.

Nikki could sense an unusual aura . . . and some sort of fluttery things flitting in the air about him.

Morgan just turned the red-rimmed glass in his direction, “We answer to authorities a bit more powerful than the government.”

“Just observing.” Nikki told him.

“Really? All your licenses in order then? It’d be a shame if the ATF came ’round to inspect them and discovered your inter-dimensional travel capabilities.”

Nikki then leaned back toward Rhyaad, “There is something that is reminiscent of Smith who stopped by the office the other night.”

Morgan shook her head, “Oh, our HQ can’t be accessed by Mortals.”

“Unless you’re willing to die to get there.” She added.

Gregory!” His voice went down an octave and he looked at him sternly. “There is no reason to threaten this woman. And I doubt YOU have such valid licenses.”

He nodded to Nikki. “You’re on the right track. He’s the same species as Smith . . . If he’d let you listen to his hearts, you’d see.”

“Oh, yes, I can hear that.” She said almost in a whisper.

Nikki leaned over toward Rhyaad humorously, “I don’t think he would taste as good as a human.”

He nodded again. “I know so. I smelled his blood. Horrible. Its disgusting orange stuff.”

Overhearing them, Gregory says, “The wrong amount of Iron is in it.” A bit loudly, getting a little annoyed about being mumbled about. “I do have ears.”

“It’s like you have no interest whatsoever you know— ” And so she sits back and sips her drink.

Rhyaad turned back to the woman in red. “Actually you intrigue me. I asked Gregory here this evening because I was interested in his technology. But from what you say, your services may interest me as well. Can you make portals?”

“And can Companion Cube go through them?” Gregory asks.

“And how do you accomplish your inter-realm travels? By technological device or magical spell?” Rhyaad adds.

“ For myself yes, but we do require advance notice and payment before we allow such travel.”

“Really?” Rhyaad says leaning forward a bit in his chair, “Then perhaps you can’t help me. I seek a permanent installation.”

“Any agent of the firm can cross the walls between worlds as we wish.’ Morgan informed him, “The senior partners have a…. safer means of travel.”

“Which is?” Rhyaad now asks very interested and motioning to Gregory, “Bear in mind, this oddly dressed gentleman has access to a most amazing means of travel. I doubt you’d be giving away anything he doesn’t know about.”

Nikki looks over at Morgan, “Inter-realm—can you do travel through time also?”

An excellent question, Nikki.” Rhyaad smiles and looks over at Morgan.

“At a rate of exactly 1 second per second into the future.” Morgan answers with a very sarcastic smile.

“Ah. Well . . . can you install fixed and permanent portals that don’t involve temporal displacement?” Rhyaad asks sipping from his cylinder.

Gregory rolled his eyes at that joke.

“Oh – I would be more interested in going back to a particular moment in time.” Nikki says more to herself.

Rhyaad looks at Nikki and shakes his head. “I told you already. An effect cannot undo its cause. Or as Gregory would say, one cannot alter her own history. Cross her own timeline.”

Suddenly the front doors to The Nightingale swing open violently and a blast of cold wind blows into the room just as Nikki completes her sentence—

“He’s right, it would cause a paradox, a wound in time. You could easily split the world in two.”

Nikki turns toward the doors, “What?”

She looks at Rhyaad, “Did you hear that?”

“At worst, a total event collapse, destroy the entire universe, every sun supernova. But that would have to be something big….” Gregory continues and then stops, “what the fuck, your door sucks Rhyaad.”

The wind blowing through the tearoom, Rhyaad looks back at the open doors, “Damnation! Close those doors!”, he yelled to the girl at the front who scurried to close them. “That was very odd, Nikki. I sensed something, but I don’t know what it was.”

“You didn’t hear it?” Nikki asks, her blue eyes having gone bright blue.

“Buy new doors.” Gregory suggests.

“Hear?” He looked at her oddly. “No. Hear what?”

“A woman’s voice –“ Nikki explains very visibly disturbed, “It said NO very loudly.”

Rhyaad now peered at the others. “Did anyone else hear a woman say ‘no’?”

Nikki sits looking at the doors as the staff closes them.

‘Can’t say I did. Curse this stupid mortal form…”Morgan replies.

Rhyaad can see that Nikki is very upset – there is a almost terrified look on her face. “What is it Nikki?” He leaned close. “Who did you hear?”

“Well take it as a sign, ‘ Gregory said, “No, you don’t fuck around with time travel, it never goes to plan . . . and leave it at that.”

“It sounded . . . sounded much to much like . . . a voice I heard in Paris.” Nikki looks at him, her eyes now gone Arctic.

Rhyaad looked annoyed towards Greg for a moment, but turned quickly back to Nikki, staring at those eyes. “Nikki… it wasn’t… ” He swallowed… “~Her~ ?”

Nikki doesn’t answer. Puts down her drink and rushes to the doors. She whips them open as if to catch someone standing on the other side, but seeing that there is no one there, she and quickly steps out into the night. Outside it is a chill fall night. There is nothing to indicate anything or anyone is lurking about.

Rhyaad having watched her blur like movement to the door stood watching after her, growing concerned, wondering if he should follow. He stood up and hesitated.

Suddenly, she was back. “Excise me, I’m sorry — ” She sits back down. She is also very aware that she moved much to fast in a public room—and looks around to see that most of those gather did not notice her

“Nikki”, he implored her once she had returned. “Just tell me… I will know what you mean. Was it that same voice, of the woman… the one in Paris, that night?”

“Yes.”

His face turned stony and he sat down. “What does this mean? How could her disembodied voice reach you here?”

She sits looking into the flames of the fire, “Oh, please, I am sorry, to have interrupted the conversation, please continue . . .” She tells Gregory and Morgan as she continues to stare into the flames – then turns to Rhyaad, “Because – she’s here!”

“It. . . . was quite an interruption. If she is such as can somehow project her influence like that . . . she is much to be feared.”

‘In Collinsport.” Nikki further explains.

“Here?” He stood up again. “In Collinsport?”

Rhyaad looks at her very concerned, “Are you certain of this?”

“For over a year I have—felt nothing. I felt her just now.”

“This is quite serious. I think you should be very careful. We should also seek out some help. Medri perhaps. I hate to say it, but even those shining Ankh people perhaps.”

“I — I don’t know . . . God she is powerful . . .”

“Why has she come after you? Obviously that was intended for you.” He motions toward the doors, the physical manifestation of her powers.

Gregory looks at both of them for a moment, “I’m not confused.” He said, sipping the tea again.

“For just a second – a second – she let down her block and I could feel – feel her. Rhyaad she is the most powerful one of us I have ever felt.”

“I’m sorry, Greg. But this is a terrible threat. The….” He looked at Nikki. “May I tell him?”

Rhyaad looks at her, “I hope you’re mistaken about that, Nikki.”

“Certainly, “ she waves a very distracted, slightly trembling hand, “Since we’re talking about – I am sure everyone is confused.”

He nodded. “Be careful out there, Greg, and Miss Whatever-you-are. The vampire that made Nikki is about. And she is on a level with Dracula himself, if what Nikki senses is accurate. And we don’t even know who she is.”

Gregory sits back, “Vampires are more vulnerable than they like to admit.”

“Everyone is, Greg. But vampires….” Rhyaad corrected his pronouns…. “We are scary for good reasons.”

“But for every strength we have, we have a weakness.” Nikki repeats something she has learned from Rhyaad.

Rhyaad, glad to hear her repeating him says, “Then we must find her weaknesses. Other than the one we already know about.” He looked at Nikki.

” I just want to know who the hell she is.”

“As do I.” Rhyaad says in reflection.

Nikki looks at the others, who have stopped talking and are now looking at her, “”Sorry, please, let’s talk of other things.”

Rhyaad nodded. “If you wish, Nikki. But I know what will be on your mind. And mine too.”

Rhyaad: “Well… Gregory”, he tried to change the subject. “I do have a certain basement project you can help me with.”

In the background the sound of The Nightingale’s phone ringing can be heard.

A member of the staff answers.

“Yes?” Gergory asks now with renewed interest.

The woman at the hostess desk motions toward Rhyaad and says, “Mr. de’Annar, there’s a call for you.”

“Project?” Gregory says aloud,

Morgan suddenly drinks all of her beverage in one go and stands up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”

“Oh, please stay.” Nikki says aware that she has caused this entire disturbance at the table.

Rhyaad nodded to Gregory, but then stood. “Of course, Miss. Nice to make your acquaintance.” He gave her a little bow. “And now I am called to the phone.” He went over to answer it.

Rhyaad; hello?

“I’m sure we’ll meet again, Morgan says.

Voice on the Phone: “Mr. de’Annar?”

“Good bye.” *Greg’s hand was in his pocket, there was a small mechanical whir, but it very quickly went away.

Nikki feels as if she is the reason the woman is leaving, “I certainly hope so, will you be coming back to the Nightingale?”

Rhyaad: Yes this is he.
Voice on the Phone: Ah, this is David Collins. We haven’t met, but I think it is time that we do.

Morgan’s form returns to her demonic state and she vanishes in a puff of red smoke.

“Communist.” Gregory mumbled

“Oh she does that very well.” Nikki says and takes a drink.

Rhyaad: Ah, Mr. David Collins. Certainly I have heard of you…” He turns to scowl at the place where the woman vanished. “Demon!” He muttered. “I shall never let her in again.”

He went back to the phone.
David Collins: I understand that you know a Mr. Harker. Medri Harker. Is that correct?

Rhyaad: Excuse me Mr. Collins, an unruly guest. You were saying? Yes… I know Mr. Harker. Been staying at Harker Manor until recently as a matter of fact.

David Collins: “Excellent, I would very much like to speak with you and Mr. Harker as soon as we can. Is my cousin, there with you by any chance?

Rhyaad: That would be a pleasure. To meet you, Mr. Collins. I’d like that. We shall have to coordinate with Medri as to when he can make it. He is a busy man of late: I have a hard time seeing him myself. And yes, Nikki is here. Would you like to speak with her?

David Collins: No, no, not at the moment. The reason I’m asking is I would rather you not mention this call to Nikki.

Rhyaad: Oh [He had to ponder about that a moment. It was an unusual request, and he didn’t like the idea of hiding anything from Nikki.] Well, if you insist, Mr. Collins, he said reluctantly.
David Collins[i]: I understand your hesitation Mr. de’Annar, and I respect it, but it is in everyone’s best interest that I speak with you and Mr. Harker.

[i]Rhyaad: [He thinks about this as he looks back at Nikki] Indeed, I was just thinking of consulting with Medri Harker. But I’m sure on another subject entirely. You have me intrigued now, though. I will be anxious to know what this is about. And, did you know I have been counseling your cousin?

David Collins: “Let’s say I am more aware of things that happen in and round Collinsport than most people think. So, if you can find a time Mr. Harker is available, I would like to meet with you at the Collinsport Congregational Church. I would like to introduce the you two to the Collinsport Ghost Society.”

Rhyaad: Oh? A ghost society at the Church? That is most interesting, Mr. Collins. I shall tell Medri of this at my first opportunity. We will get back to you.”

David Collins: “Thank you. And do have a pleasant evening — oh, one thing more.

Rhyaad: Consider it arraigned. And… yes?”

David Collins” “Please watch over my cousin — she may be in danger. So, until we meet, have a good evening.”

Click.

Nikki sits staring into the fire, sipping the last of her drink.

Rhyaad stared at the dead phone a moment. “Yes, he said to the object. More than you should be aware of.”

He pondered that. Just how much did David Collins know?

He went to get two more ‘drinks’ and took them back to the fire, offering one to Nikki.

“Sorry for the interruption. You know, I do hope you are very, very careful. I regret that I have not had time to teach you anything about… shall we say, special defenses.”

Gregory offering an observation, “You should invest in a secured, dead locked telephone, in addition to replacing your doors,” as Rhyaad sat back down.

Nikki takes the drink and looks up at him, “Defenses?”

“The doors are fine, Greg.” He looked at Nikki. “Of the vampire kind. Of the mental kind. I hope she doesn’t come after you.”

“You’re concerned about something? Her?” Nikki asks aware of a certain worried expression on her friend’s face.

“I am worried about you, Nikki.” He sighed.

“Oh, well Rhyaad, Thank you.” She leans forward, and places a hand on his knee reassuringly, “But what else can she do to me – she already murdered me.”

Rhyaad put his hand on top of her’s. “Oh Nikki. She could do so much. She could make you suffer in ways no living person could. Let’s not talk about that though. We will fight her, if it comes to that. I will get Medri’s help.”

“Don’t forget the Greg.”

She looked at Gregory and nodded with a smile, and turning back to Rhyaad she finds she suddenly has this ability to read him, a fragment of his thoughts, “The Phone. There is something about the phone. Is something wrong?”

“I want your help with portals, Gregory. Dealing with awesomely powerful evil vampires seems to be my business… again.”

Nikki looked at Gregory “Well thank you also. So, I should be okay, I have the two of you to protect me — and Medri.”

“Let’s just say we have reason to be in a heightened state of alert, for now, Nikki. I am to arrange a meeting with someone. Things will work out.”

“Ah, so I’m just your maintenance man, here to fix you up a transmat and run away, obviously The Marshal would be useless in fighting things.”

To Nikki he smiles, “Ah, thank you Mrs. Collins, SOMEONE appreciates me.”

“You’re so kind to offer to help. I mean, knowing what I AM.”

“Well… You have fought with us before, Gregory. And you remember that Medri… well… he is an awesome fighter… but doesn’t really work well on keeping the ‘collateral damage’ down…”

She turns to Rhyaad, “I don’t understand—she turned me. Then she shunned me, blocked all contact and now—now she’s here. Why? This makes no sense, or does it? You know more about this than t—is this normal?”

Nikki takes a deeper drink from her glass, her eyes now becoming a darker shade of blue.

“No, it isn’t. Not at all. I suspect she is playing some cruel game, at your expense.”

“For me, that was more than two centuries ago Rhyaad, and I do mean that literally. It’ll be fine this time round.” He turned to Collins “Well, we do know she doesn’t wish to kill you, she could have easily done that before now.”

“Well now I am worried. There are Esther and Samantha — they may be in danger.”

“Two centuries? It was a year ago.” Rhyaad peered at Gregory. Then turned back to Nikki. “Oh gods… I didn’t think about them. But she doesn’t know about them, does she?”

“Actually she did kill me.” She tells Gregory, “Or was, as I lay dying, it was almost as if at the last moment for some reason she decided to turn me instead.” She turns to look at Rhyaad, very concerned now, “I have no idea what she knows—all I know is in that one brief moment, I knew she was here, in Collinsport.”

“I suppose we don’t know . . . if she planned to turn you from the beginning or not. But she is definitely playing some cruel game with you now. And you must have some sort of a connection, if you know that. You are her weakness.”

“Why do you assume that she is her weakness?” Gregory asks.

Nikki looks to Rhyaad as it is thought hat has never occurred to her.

“Because such links work both ways, of course. And though she is so strong, she has revealed herself to us through Nikki. Her obsession with Nikki is her weakness.”

“There is a difference between obsession and pursing a target doggedly. One makes someone weak, the other strong and resourceful.”

“But what is different? Why did she stay away, and only now appear if I mean anything to her?” Nikki asked Gregory.

“I don’t know, Nikki.” Rhyaad answers as he turns to Gregory, “Remember that talk of China, new an old? A philosopher 2600 years before Mao said that when we seek to extend ourselves to control others, we necessarily loose control over ourselves.”

“Oh, well, I can’t worry about it—“ Nikki says to herself, “I can’t let it consume me. I have things to do. I have to talk to that Ian Finch about Vera Endecott. I can’t hide from her, she’s here and if she wants me—there is little I can do about it..

“Indeed. Let your work keep you busy. But keep a sharp eye out on everything.” Rhyaad agrees.

“My concern is if she goes after those around me—I mean even you Rhyaad. But especially Esther living alone out there in her cabin.”

“I hope she doesn’t know. How could she? About those around you… and I think this means we have to tell Sam something.”

“Yes, I am going to have to tell Sam.” Nikki admits having made the decision, “I would really like to talk to Medri – we never did take a look at that picture he has of Patricia.”

“If not that you are a vampire, at least that they exist and she may be a target. But it’s probably better to tell her the whole truth.” Rhyaad says about the conversation with Samnatha, and then returns to the thought of Medri, “We will. We will have a talk with Medri. Soon, I hope.”

Nikki looks up and over to Gregory who for the first time actually looks concerned, “Oh, I am so sorry to have interrupted your conversation Gregory — you would think being a Vampire would be easier than this — at least that’s what they write about us these days.” And then suddenly she looks over to Rhyaad, “And here I have ruined your opening night celebration, also.”

“It’s all right, Nikki. In the words of the sages… shit happens.”

“Fiction is bollocks, you should see some of the legends they tell about….well, fiction is bollocks.” Gregory interjects.

“And, I will say, this is a very excellent drink. You have it so properly warmed.” She takes another drink, and looks into the flames.

“Blood is blood, my dear. It’s easy to say that after you’ve already had it.”

“Well, I intend to speak with Finch soon,’ She tells Rhyaad, “If you care to join me, just let me know.”

“I shall, if I am not attending to other matters. I’d like to help you a bit with that case though. I am curious about it.”

“Yes, it is interesting. I did some checking on that projectionist who had the films—it appears he was once suspected of a double homicide. He was a person of interest— although they didn’t have enough evidence to bring charges.”

“Ah, so the case grows even more interesting. You know, of course, that I suspected someone in the projectionist’s family murdered “Vera” and stole her films. Or that this someone knew the murderer.”

“I think your theory is a sound one. It does seem to fit the facts.”

“Perhaps they were all in the same cult. Who knows… Well, now it’s your job to find out, Miss Collins.” Rhyaad says to take her mind off other problems.

“Yes — it is. A puzzle to keep me occupied from other thoughts.” She nods, once again as if she had read his thoughts, ‘Oh, the two victims in the double homicide, they were killed in what the Police claimed to be ritual murders. Adding to the Cult theory even more.”

“So many possible theories, Nikki. It will be a challenging case.” He raised his cylinder of blood. “To solutions, answers, and victory.”

Nikki raised her cylinder also.

Cue Music End of Episode