The theme music plays and credits roll and go dark and before the familiar Black Rose Studio Productions comes up . . . . suddenly:
In medias res
“I’d be more careful about that. I’ve killed two necromancers.” Rhyaad says standing before the fireplace, the last of the embers going cold.
The Old House is dark; the antique grandfather clock indicates it is 3:45. Several hours before sun up.
“The first one would have fried me like toast if I didn’t have this magical amulet. And I had an Angel help me with the other. He continues and observes the look of skepticism on Meili Rainhearts face. Yes, you heard me, an Angel. If there’s a point, it might be that these fuckers are hard to kill. They don’t call them ‘necro-mancers’ for nothing.
“I’m the son of a fucking Norseman. Meili says a small glass of brandy in hand, You don’t ‘menace’ me. That’s a challenge.”
“Besides, what they are doing with us now is obviously fucking with our minds, so I say we fuck with theirs.” Rhyaad says and folds his arms across his chest, “They send incompetent ‘hunters’ to chase you around, ok, so what if we go to the Inn for drinks and invite Blair and P . . . ”
“And another thing. I’m the son of a Romani. You don’t try to con a Roma. That’s a challenge.” Meili adds.
“Well they’re conning us all, my friend.” Rhyaad says bitterly, Including this Dr. Praetorius, whom I had hoped to be our more knowledgeable ally as Artemis has let us down so often.
“SO. They’ve menaced the son of a Norseman, and they’re trying to con a Roma. This is the point where I start breaking skulls.”
Rhyaad looks at Meili now with some cold reflection on their conversation, “I’d really hate to see that Blair guy use some magic to turn you into a zombie, or something. I kind of do like your face the way it is.”
Meili Rainheart smiles and looks down at his brandy, “…I’m flattered, dear. But, you know I’m -so- much more then just a pretty face.”
“I can’t tell you shouldn’t try to kill him, since I know s**t, just like you. But it would be more interesting to play with him first, would it not?”
“You’re barking up a tree I’m trying to cut down, Rhyaad. That’s something I would have done before, and someone I’m trying very hard not to be.”
“In this case, I think the manipulative con artist side of you would suit you better than the fighter. And you can always kill him later. He nods, But I’ll stop barking.”
“I don’t trust myselfnot enough to play those old games again. Not yet.” Meilli explains. “I can’t let myself be consumed again. I won’t, too many people have risked too much to help me wake up from that nightmare.”
“Well then, you know yourself best.” Rhyaad looks at him tenderly, “Just please don’t let Blair turn you into some thing with brains and guts leaking out. You’re much more attractive the way you are.”
“Don’t worry, dear. I give as good as I get, and then I give better. Courtesan’s rules.”
“As for myself, I like to sleep before sunrise, so I’ll be going. Just remember how dangerous these people we’re dealing with are. Tomorrow I will give you a lesson on two things, old and new. Electronic locks and magician’s wards. And how to break both of them. Without *smashing*” he adds raising a finger.
“I’ll be grateful. And attentive. You’ll find . . . I’m a quick student. And I don’t smash what doesn’t -need- to be smashed.”
“Good” Rhyaad said and picked up the blood pitcher he had been carrying when Meili had arrived, and drained the rest of it. “I look forward to not arguing with you.”
“For once,” Meili Rainheart grinned. So tomorrow we act. This Sam Brookshe will distract him
According to Nikkis plan. Rhyaad grinned back and nodded, “Quel du, Meili.” Then made his way over to where the secret door led into the special part of the house. The part that used to belong to Barnabas Collins once, long ago; but was now occupied by two other vampires.
Fade to Black
A Black Rose Studio Production © Copywrite 2012