Night of the Macabre

Collinsport. Nicole Collins, Esther Friedman, and Samantha Brook have returned from an apparent temporal anomaly in which they traveled back in time to view the tragic deaths of Easter Friedman’s parents. Only Rhyaad de’Annar, who accompanied them in the blinding flash of light that took them back into time, has not reappeared. Only Dr. Artemis, a newcomer to Collinsport, has seen him since, on the night of the anomaly, suffering from an apparent emotional breakdown. But he has not been seen since. His business establishment continues to open in his absent, run by his staff – only, tonight, a visitor to Collinsport is about to arrive with apparent direction from Rhyaad.

The door of the Nightingale opens.

The Hostess looks up but there isn’t anyone there.

She walks over and closes the door.

She turns and a red-haired woman is slightly dancing to some music only she seems to hear.

She smiles.

“Nice shoes.”

The lady, she then would walk into the lovely house of the tea and to see those who would greet her, to which she blushes of the crimson at the one who has called her the sexy, when she takes note of the table where the gentleman he sits. She then waves to Monsieur Artemis as she walks over to the table with which he sits with another woman of the hair of the red, ”Bonjour again professor and how are you?”

“Doctor. Not professor.” Dr. Artemis says with a smile, “I am quite well, Miss Winterflower. And yourself?”

“I am fine I of just this moment stepped away and for a spot of the lovely tea I was [i]dying[/]Monsieur “ She replies.

“Doctor.” Artemis corrects again, and motions to the waiter, “I’ll order a pot of tea.”

The waiter sees the doctor motioning toward him and nods, and makes his way through the tables.

The Nightingale is very busy this night – almost all of the tables are occupied.

Suddenly the doors swing open, just a bit too forcefully, and a strange blonde man of quite pale complexion strides in, his steel toed boots clunking on the floorboards. The young hostess looks up to him with a smile, but he only glares at her, and continues to walk arrogantly through the lobby and into the main room of the Nightingale. His heavy boots clunk loudly so that they are noticeable for the silence they bring when he stops clunking and stands, slowly, eyeing everything, as if taking in the most minute of details. Customers stop their conversation to look at him, as he narrows his eyes to glare back at them. The loud boots once more clunk their way over as he wordlessly walks to stand beside the rotating moon globe, where he rudely lights up a cigarette and exhales a long, curling plume of smoke.

A couple seated at a table nearby look to one another, “Is that suppose to be Marlon Brando?” The man leans over to his wife.
“No—he doesn’t have a motorcycle.” She replies.

The strange blonde man with a rather dramatic flourish, in order to gather the attention of all those gather in the team room takes a small computer device out of his jacket. He appears now to be staring at each of the faces in the room, then at the screen of his pocket computer.

He squints one eye against the upward curl of smoke and idly flicks ashes on the hardwood floor.

A customer at the back of the room – removes his cell phone in preparation for calling police. The man certainly looks like trouble – and these days you just never know.

“Otis—don’t . . . he—he might have a gun.” The concerned customer’s wife says in a whisper.

The stranger looks around the room again seemingly determined to make certain he calls attention to himself, so that he can make certain that he has every eye upon him.

He takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales the smoke in a plume that wafts across two tables.

One of the customers motions to the waiter for his check.

A young Chinese waiter places a pot of tea and two teacups before Dr. Artemis and the woman. He smiles at the Doctor who pays for the tea.

He walks back, stepping away from the stranger as he looks oddly at the blonde man.

The blonde stranger flicks ashes and mutters, “A Chinese boy,” as he looks at the device, checking the photo.

“Here you go, Miss Winterflower.” The doctor says as he pours tea into her cup – his attention still on the strange blonde man trying hard to appear ominous.

“Tea, Miss Brook?”

“No thanks.”

The doctor sits back now and sips his tea.

The man, with his steel toed boots clunking on the floorboards, moves in closer, apparently not caring too much about manners and etiquette, or decorum, and s**t, as he walks over like a Tea Room Clint Eastwood in a Few Dollars More, only with out the accompaniment of the spurs, just the clump-clumping of the heavy heels, as he strides now across the main room of the Nightingale, eyes squinting for effects as he exhales obnoxious plumes of cigarette smoke, and flicks ashes all along the way, as he continues to look at the screen of his blackberry. He clumps over to the table and stops.

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps flicking through screens on the device.

Dr. Artemis looks up at him, “Yes?”

The stranger looks down at the man and the two women seated there. “Doc-tor Ar-te-mis and a professor from the Miskatonic, I assume?”

“So Monsieur Artemis, did you find anything out on the Day of the Judgment?” Miss Winterflower asks taking up her cup of tea as she flashes Artemis a smile, then looks at the pretty guest to her left.

Samantha Brook looks at the blonde man standing beside the table.

Athena Winterflower, keeping her hair in the way of her face, from the angles of the vision, as this newcomer he looks at her, one of her eyes having been following him as he entered the tearoom.

Dr. Artemis startled looks up at the man. “Young man, this is a public restaurant. There is absolutely no smoking allowed in here.”

He grins amused at the man’s discomfort before returning his attention to the woman’s gaze. As he does so, he totally ignores Artemis’s complaint. “I don’t see . . . ” He pushes his finger about on the screen. “Ah . . . Miss Athena?” Athena Winterflower?” He asks the redhead.

“Waiter. . . ” Dr. Artemis raises his hand to the young Chinese man.

The waiter comes over.

Miss Winterflower flicks her wrist slightly, the tip of the young man’s cigarette severing from the rest. “It is rude to smoke in a public place, Monsieur . . . “ She says as she examines his features.

The couple at the table near by seeing the odd movement, observe the severing of the cigarette, and they look at each other wide-eyed.

Artemis looking at the waiter points at the blonde man standing with the severed cigarette.

The red embers of the burning cigarette now lie on the hardwood floor, glowing hot, burning a spot into the wood.

“D**n!” The stranger jumps back at the sudden apparently magical event and stares at the extinguished cigarette for a moment, then drops the half that no longer has a burning tip to fall upon the floor. He looks back at the woman. “I should have taken you more seriously.”

“Oy! Who the h**l is this smokin b*****d? “ Samantha Brook asks looking up now at the tall, blond man.

Red embers from the cigarette continue to burn the floor.

“Language!” Dr. Artemis scowls, certainly no way to speak in front a group of ladies, “And yes. Who are you?”

“The good doctor, he did give the warning to you to put it out did he not Monsieur.” She sips her tea calmly.

“Yes doc, I do use it frequently.” Samantha Brook suddenly replies as she turns to look at the doctor.

The doctor rises and eyebrow and looks at back at Samantha Brook without a clue as to what she is referring too.

The stranger glances briefly at Sam. “And you’d be the crazy woman, Samantha Brook.” but his attention now is entirely fixated on the other woman. “How’d you do that? It says here you pretend to be human, but are not.”

People in the Nightingale, having returned to their drinks, still continue to occasionally glance back over at the man.

Several employees are standing to one side discussing him.

“How rude!’ Dr. Artemis says, “And what is that . . . a smart phone? I swear, the libelous things they put on the Internet.”

The man shrugs at the Doctor. “Goes with my territory you see. Humans are too hung up on manners.”

“You know, it’s probably not wise to call a crazy woman crazy to her face.” Samantha tells him.

Dr. Artemis looks at him, “Humans . . . ?”

“Pardon, I have no idea what you mean, Monsieur.” Miss Winterflower says, as she looks over at Samantha Brook beside her. She winks. Touches a finger to her nose. Then chuckles slightly.

“This, Doctor Artemis, is my—notes. In computer form, courtesy of one Mr. Rhyaad de’Annar.” He says now in reference to the small device in his hand. “All there is that I need to know about you – all of you!”

“No wonder it’s so rude, crude, and inaccurate.” The doctor remarks nervously, uncertain just what is in that device
.
“And you, Miss Athena, are most certainly not human.” The stranger says with a shrug and takes out another cigarette and strikes a match, lighting it, and then flicking the match off somewhere behind him. “It’s not a lack of manners, Mam, just that I don’t have any business in it, ya know.”

Samantha pushes the man with her elbow, “I asked you a question.”

He grins at the Doctor. “Oh, his profile on you is the longest. Not surprising you’d say that.”

“In what?” The Doctor asks.

“What?” The stranger replies.

“You said you don’t have any business in it – in what?”

The stranger takes a long drag off his cigarette looking at his blackberry.

“Then what exactly am I Monsieur? And what proof do you have besides the speculation most idle that I am anything but a normal girl?” Athena Winterflower asks as she sips her tea.

“And how do you know de’Annar?” Dr. Artemis asks.

“Hey?” He looks down at Samantha Brook, annoyed at her elbowing him, “Crazy don’t mean I won’t break your jaw.”

Dr. Artemis pours Athena another cup of tea.

“I want answers.” Samantha says.

“And normal girls don’t do what you just did, for one thing.” The blonde stranger answers. “So go ahead an tell me or I can read more of your profile?”

“Now then, are you gonna tell us who the h**l your are, or am I gonna have to toss your b****h a*s outside?” Samantha demands, her voice rising as the customers at the tables nearby turn to look.

“This is nothing but blackmail. I shall call the police.” Dr. Artemis threatens.

The blonde stranger laughs out loud, his fangs now showing. “NOW THAT would be a lot of fun! Maybe we’ll try it sometime. But I’m Darien Blackwater you see.”

Dr. Artemis takes out his cell phone.

“See what?” Samantha asks.

“Thank you Monsieur Artemis.” She takes her tea. “I’m surprised I have the profile of which the people would know of . . . ” she looks to Artemis. “Would you prefer for me to restrain him until the authorities they do arrive? “

Dr. Artemis presses 9-1-1. . . and then send.

“You have no reason for that, Artemis. I’m just here to keep an eye on the place for one night. I’ll be out of your hair pretty quick.” He takes a drag off the cigarette and looks at Miss Winterflower as if to say try that fancy trick again.

“Let’s let the police handle this, Miss Winterflower.” Dr. Artemis says.

Samantha suddenly plucks the device out of Darien Blackwater’s hands.

“And why is that, Artemis? I haven’t committed any crime.” He drops the cigarette on the polished hardwood floor and crushes it under his foot. “Are you always like this? And why don’t you ever use your first name?”

“This fellow has seen too many of those “Bite Night” movies.” The Doctor tells the couple next to their table as they look on anxiously.

Darien Blackwater’s hand moves in a blur as he snatches it back from Samantha Brook, and then turns it off.

Samantha snatches it back.

He snatches it back.

She snatches it back again.

He snatches it again.

She snatches it once more.

She turns it on.

Dr. Artemis looks at them surprised.

“I wanna read.” Samantha tells the doctor. Who at the moment doesn’t mind if she does – to find out what he has in the device.
“Uh, oh sorry, officer. ‘” Artemis says into his phone.

“You’re right about that. I used to embarrass the old guy. But now I have better manners.” Darien Blackwater says.

“I was showing my daughter how to dial 911, and I accidently hit ‘send’.” The doctor tells the officer.

Samantha starts poking at the blackberry and holding it up to the light.

The front door of The Nightingale opens as a tall, attractive brunette enters. She smiles at the hostess who is preparing to seat her, when the brunette notices Dr. Artemis sitting with a group of people, most of whom she does not know. She tells the hostess she is meeting some friends and walks over toward his table.

Dr. Artemis looks up, “Professor Swift! This is a surprise.”

“Hello Doctor.” She smiles warmly. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I always wanted to see vampire movies, and I would bust out laughing at the most—inappropriate times.” Darien Blackwater says eyeing the attractive woman.

Miss Winterflower looks at her also, “Welcome mademoiselle.” And she bows her head and keeps an eye on the young man.
Professor Tiana Swift smiles and takes a seat, “Bonjour.”

Dr. Artemis looks at her surprised as she sits, “Have you been to Collinsport before, Professor Swift?”

Samantha Brook now scoots away from the others still poking at the device, trying to crack the password.

Tiana Swift nods, “Yes, a few times.”

“Swift?” Darien Blackwater ponders aloud. “Oh—she’s in there too.”

“Professor, I believe you know Miss Brook—.” The doctor asks.

“Ah yes of course. Good to see you again. Oh, is Miss Collins here also?” Tirana looks over to the Samantha, who distracted, busy working with the blackberry replies without looking, “Nikki? No—not tonight. I think she is seeing her mother. Or something.”

“This is Miss Winterflower, from France. . . “ The Doctor continues motioning to Athena Winterflower.

“Miss Brook, I must insist you return my property. Please?” Darien Blackwater says growing more annoyed.

“And this person—he says his name is Blackwater. A Mr. Darien Blackwater.” The doctor says finishing his introductions.
“Bonjour Mademoiselle Winterfluer.” Tiana says looking at the woman.

Samantha continues to work with the blackberry, “No, I wanna read about me,” she tells Blackwater as she continues to work on the password.

Tiana looks up at Darien Blackwater, “Mr. Blackwood? I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.”

“Blackwater. Darien Blackwater.” He fishes a card out of his jacket and hands it to her. “Private investigations.”

“Oh right . . . thanks,“ she takes card and gives it a quick glance, “hmm.”

“Wait.” Dr. Artemis suddenly says, “Blackwater Investigations?”

Miss Winterflower turns to Artemis, “Though I lived in France for a time of the length most considerable, and is where Lady Steam, she found me . . . I’m actually from Italy, Monsieur. . . .”

“A Vatican vault—I’m sure.” Samantha mutters.

The doctor trying to recall if he has heard of the Blackwater Investigations shakes his head, “No, that was Blackjack Investigations.”

Darien Blackwater nods. “Though business has been p**s poor lately.”

Tiana Swift smiles at the group seated at the table, “Not enough cheating spouses?” she says sardonically.

“Blackjack . . . that was in Chicago?” The Doctor says to himself, aloud.

“Detroit.” Samantha Brook corrects as she continues to work with the device.

“That’s a pity,” Tiana adds, “You would think there would be enough cheating spouses even in a bad economy,” Her voice hints of an English accent.

“Oh yes, Miss Winterflower. I remember now.“ The doctor recovers his thoughts and replies.

“I’m the one from Blackjack.” Samantha Brook looks over at the doctor.

“Cheating spouses? Are men not satisfied with a wife and the mistresses in this era?” Miss Winterflower says.

Samantha looks up at Darien Blackwater, “And he’s a p**s poor copy. Look at those boots. No wonder business is bad.”

“Something like that, Miss Swift.” Darien Blackwater looks at Samantha. “Yes, you came from there to Collinsport if I recall by way of New York.”

Dr. Artemis nods.

Darien Blackwater shrugs at Samantha. “I ain’t trying to copy nobody, Miss Brook. It just happens to be my name.”

“What type of investigations do you perform Monsieur Blackwater?” Miss Winterflower asks.

Samantha gives up trying to solve the password riddle and flips it over, popping the back off.

“Mistresses? That kind of went out last century, lady.” Darien Blackwater tells Miss Winterflower, “And the cases I take are of the supernatural kind, preferably, Mam. Um, Miss Brook, I have said please. Return that. Now!”

Miss Winterflower moves her hand to the base of the phone hitting it with her finger to slide it out of Miss Brook’s hand,
catching it in the air. “Now I shall return this device with the notes of the one named Rhyaad if you promise to be much more of the civil or perhaps I shall keep it on my person till you learn of the chivalry?”

“HEY! I was almost in!” Samantha protests.

Miss Winterflower finds the button to turn the phone off. “What say you Monsieur?”

“Lately all I get is referrals, though. Should I call you Athena or Miss Winterflower? And you’re right Mam, I should be more civil.” Darien Blackwater spoke with the slightest trace of a southern accent and bowed his head to the woman slightly in an odd, yet somehow familiar manner. “My apologies.”

The doctor glances over at Miss Winterflower — then back to Blackwater — thinking the man is actually tying to flirt with her.

“You never answered my question, as well.” Dr. Artemis poses, “How is it you know Rhyaad de’Annar?”

Miss Winterflower leans her hand forward offering him his phone. “T’was that so what they call hard? You can call me Lady Athena, Monsieur.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Lady huh?”

She looks at him with a smile.

“Sorry— for so many questions.” Darien Blackwater says to her with a wide grin, “Because, Artemis, I am his. . . . um. . . ” and now for the first time he seems ill at ease, “his childe.”

Dr. Artemis frowns, “ I should have known. You certainly inherited his lack of manners.”

“Thank you, Madame.” Darien Blackwater took the device back, examined it for damage, and put it back in his pocket.

“How do we know you didn’t steal that information from de’Annar?” The doctor suddenly asks.

“I am sorry Mademoiselle Brook,” Miss Winteflower says, “But it is of the rude to take another’s property unless one is properly paid to do so, n’est-ce pas?”

Samantha Brook looks at her – what?

This causes Blackwater to grin again and show a bit more of his fangs. “Some would say that, Artemis. I’ve been told so. But usually not in a bad way.”

“No one I would know.” Dr. Artemis says flatly.

“I’m amazed at what you haven’t asked me, seein’ as how you people around here are supposed to be of the investigatin’ type . . . also.” Darien Blackwater said with a growl.

Miss Winteflower turns her gaze upon Miss Swift. “So, how do you know Monsieur Artemis?”

“I’m on the board of governors at Miskatonic,” Tiana explains, not at all certain what is going on between the group and this Mr. Blackwood.

Dr. Artemis nods.

“And we’ve worked together on a number of projects.” Tiana continues.

“Indeed.” The doctor agrees with a knowing smile.

“Kinky.” Samantha says looking at them – noticing more what was not being said than what they were saying.

Miss Winterflower claps her hands impressed. “That is amazing, you must be very intelligent like Monsieur Artemis and Lady Steam then?”

Tiana’s brown furrows, “What?”

Samantha gets up and walks over to sit on the floor next to the fire and pout – she was so close to cracking that password.

Tiana watches with interest as Samantha Brook leaves the table, “Well, yes, I would concur.”

Dr. Artemis glares at Samantha for the fourth or fifth time tonight.

Darien Blackwater snickered at Sam’s comment, and then stared at Swift. “I am told, Miss Swift, that you are a vampire. Is this so?”
Most of the patrons of The Nightingale stop drinking or conversing as his voice carries and they turn to look at the table.

The word vampire in Collinsport quickly catches the ear.

“All right, Blackwater, why are you here?” The doctor demands.

Tiana Swift coughs in surprise—her eyes darting to Dr. Artemis as she gives him a look. “Don’t be ridiculous. Such creatures are pure fantasy.” And she can feel everyone looking at her, “Have you been reading too many cheap, tacky novels?”

“He’s a fan of the “Bite Night” series.” Dr. Artemis tires to explain once again to the couple at the table next to them.

“I see.” Tiana says, her voice now with a very hard edge.

“Finally the intelligent question! Artemis, but all in good time. . . . ” Darien Blackwater says and turns, placing one hand on the back of Tiana Swift’s chair now and quickly opens his mouth wide and bends down toward her so as to reveal his extended glistening white fangs.

All the patrons in the tearoom sit watching – the man opening his mouth wide, bending down to expose long white fangs . . . some now begin to reach for cell phones.

“Ewww.” Tiana says and looks away, making a cross with her fingers.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what we all know.” Blackwater sneers.

“Back—foul beast!” Professor Swift tires to make light of the situation growing worse as everyone now sits looking at the table. Several have begun recording the scene with their cell phones.

Dr. Artemis rolls his eyes – is Blackwater not aware he is in a public room. People are watching?

“Monsieur Blackwater? You said you were watching this establishment tonight correct?” She looks at Lady Swift, and stifles a chuckle . . . now that he has gotten the entire establishment to look at him. The customers do not look amused. Several of Rhyaad’s employees are looking at one another oddly . . . not certain what to do, as they are busy now with customers all wanting their checks.

The Chinese waiter is trying to stop someone from calling the police.

Tiana now turns a harsh glare at the doctor, “Who told you?” She says very softly trying not to be overheard.

Dr. Artemis motions at Darien Blackwater. “It seems Blackwater here has purloined Rhyaad de’Anar’s blackberry.”

Darien Blackwater laughs loudly again. “And just to let you know, that’s no proper cross, Miss Swift. I am sure you know. Sorry, I’m just the curious type. Rhyaad finds you utterly perplexing. I say I agree. Why do you hide so?” Then, he sighs loudly, “No, that’s not what happened, doctor, not at all. Rhyaad had . . . an episode. The old geezer has these flashbacks sometimes.”

“Oh—yes, I was there when he had one of his episodes.” Artemis says remembering Rhyaad’s uncontrollable emotional state.

Tiana Swift cuts him a vicious stare and says in a whisper, “If it will keep you quite, and you must know, it is because it would compromise my career.”

“Ah, so you saw it?” Darien Blackwater asks, “He needs time to go meditate, or float in the air, or smoke weed, or whatever it is he does. So he paid me to watch the place.”

“Oh you are watching the place.” The doctor says aware of the commotion he has caused, customers leaving.

“Would you employ a vampire in your school?” Tiana now wishing she had never sat down at the table.

“I’m trying to get him the help he needs. “ The Doctor says.

“What I mean is, Miss Swift, is that you hide your nature even to your own kind. At least, that’s what I’ve read.”

“I would—” Miss WInterflower looks at Mr. Blackwater now. “Would this establishment happen to serve also the wine as well?”

Darien Blackwater shrugged. “Beats me lady ask the Chinese boy.” He takes out another cigarette and lights up.

Dr. Artemis looks about the tearoom and notices wine glasses on the tables.

“Because some vampires have reason not to like me and it’s better I keep a low profile.” Tiana Swift states in a low tone.

Dr. Artemis says, “A teahouse with a liquor license?” And then turns to Tiana raising an eyebrow, “And which vampires are those, Professor?”

Darien Blackwater looks up, “Oh, that one I can answer, Artemis. He wanted it to be alcohol free, but people kept demanding drinks.”

“Friends of the entire coven I destroyed in a fit of revenge back in London a few years ago.” She replies matter-of-factly.

Dr. Artemis looks at her and shakes his head sadly.

The Chinese waiter arrives having noticed that Miss Winterflower has motioned towards him and she asks for a bottle of merlot from the 16th century if they have it.

The young man looks at her moment, confused, and then says they have nothing that old – maybe something from 2009. But that there is a nice house Merlot.

“Well the oldest bottle of merlot you have please.” She tells him and he nods and leaves to get her drink.

Dr. Artemis thinks for a moment also, “I don’t know if wine can survive that long.”

“Ah if I had a bottle of wine for every coven, organization and cult I’ve have sent to the end of days . . . ” Miss Winterflower muses rather nostalgic.

Tiana Swift nods uncertain what the woman is talking about as she looks back at those still eyeing them with suspicion, “Be awfully bitter.”

“It would certainly react with the cork.” The doctor agrees.

“Perhaps Miss Swift is wise. Rhyaad should keep a lower profile.”

Tiana Swift cannot help laughing – “He needs to keep a lower profile?” She looks up at him.

“I know there’s a few vampires that want his head on a platter.” Darien Blackwater says.

“Soiling his own nest, it seems.’ Dr. Artemis shakes his head again.

“It is of the method most careful to maintain the wine especially that old, it be rare but possible . . . the bane of the wine is if not turned and maintained properly it becomes the vinegar.“

Tiana Swift looks over at her, “Jacques Cousteau once tasted 2,000 year old Greek wine from an amphora that was discovered among an ancient ship wreck in the Mediterranean Sea. He said it tasted salty.”

“Hmm. Was the amphora sealed with lead?” The doctor asks.

The waiter returns with a bottle of domestic Merlot and glasses, “No sir with a cork,” he tells the doctor not even sure what an amphora is – Merlot comes in a bottle.

Professor Swift shrugs, “Not sure but you would think water would permeate through the clay vessel. It is porous after all.

“No ma’am it came in a bottle, I assure you.” The waiter tells them. He turns and leaves shaking his head.

“Thank you.” She pours herself a glass of wine. “Would any other enjoy a glass?”

Darien Blackwater nodded. “Like in those Titanic bottles.”

Tiana Swift looks at the wine and shakes her head, “Not for me please.”

“Not if it were properly fired . . . “ Dr. Artemis replies, “And a layer of silt formed soon enough.”

“The Greeks they did have the knowledge and the techniques far beyond those of their time . . . that you see is the most lost. We have seen the old Greek weapons that even not at all appear in your books most modern, mes amis . . . If I brought you to—“ Miss Winterflower muses once again aloud and suddenly breaks off the thought, “Ummm wine yes . . . “

“But we are getting off track.” The doctor remarks looking up at Blackwater, “Are you here to blackmail us, Blackwater?”
Miss Winterflower begins to drink her wine and hopes to be ignored now.

Darien Blackwater shrugged at Artemis, and again gave that odd head motion. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll fix my own refreshment.” Then stops and looks back at Artemis, “What? Why would I do that? This information is just so I know what to expect. I’m here to protect things—that’s all. You’re certainly a nervous man, Art.”

Still very distracted by Blackwater’s revelation of her vampiric nature, Tiana continues with her Cousteau story, “He wrote in his log, after tasting the wine with his crew, that it was a ‘poor vintage’, It was dated at 2,200 years old.”

“Refreshment?” The doctor asks sarcastically, “Who do you have in mind?”

“D**n! He was right about you!” Darien Blackwater said to the doctor as he left. “Just what do you have so hard against our kind?” He proceeds into the kitchen

“Greece fell to the Romans just a few years later.” Artemis remarks watching Blackwater as he departs.

“But, do you know why Greece it falls to the Romans Monsieur Artemis?”

Dr. Artemis suddenly jumps up, “My God! He’s after the Chinese waiter!” He excuses himself and heads to the kitchen.

Miss Winterflower moves out of the chair and in something almost like a silhouette, she glides, dodging all the furniture and objects in her way, to reach the kitchen in mere moments.

In the kitchen, Darien Blackwater is just retrieving a bottle of blood from a small refrigerator and mixing it with a brown fluid from a machine.

Dr. Artemis hurrying into the kitchen comes to a halt and stares.

Miss Winterflower lets out a sigh. ”You are on the edge they say, Monsieur Artemis. . . .”

Dr. Artemis looking a Blackwater says to her in an aside, “. . . Doctor. It’s Doctor. Doctor Artemis.”

Darien Blackwater stirs up the mixture and turns to stare at them. “Did you actually think I was going to drink the Chinese boy, Artemis?”

“Doctor Artemis. . . . “ Miss Winterflower repeats.

“Well . . . “

“What did I miss – someone dead?” Samantha Brook asks running into the kitchen.

“I apologize Monsieur Blackwater for the doctor and of my haste . . . though I accompanied him just in case of the conflict . . . I hope you do not take me as the aggressive because of this . . . .” and she curtseys to Mr. Blackwater.

“He didn’t kill anybody yet?’ Samantha asks, and seeing no dead body, leaves.

“You did, didn’t you? Now why would I do that? If I were evil would I even be here? Would Rhyaad be giving me his information and sending me here? I’ll have you know I haven’t killed a human for more than 10 years.”

Miss Winterflower seems to pounder something.

Dr. Artemis glares at him, “There’s no Statute of Limitations on murder.”

Darien Blackwater did the little head motion again back at the woman. “No offense taken, Mam. And sorry I don’t speak French.”

Professor Swift now steps closer to see what Blackwater was doing and she smells blood and chocolate, “Nice Kitchen.” She says and looks at the Doctor, “What’s a statute of limitations?”

Miss Winterflower turns back, “I am sorry I do not speak the better English . . . Monsieur Blackwater might I ask the favor, no?
“Where’s the sink?” Tiana asks.

Darien Blackwater began to drink the mixture of blood and chocolate before answering Artemis. “It was a gang case, Art. They attacked me. You could call it self-defense. Though I do admit I enjoyed it.”

“In American law, there is a time limit for many crimes.” He explains to Professor Swift.

She nods, “Oh I see.”

“A favor? What would that be?” Darien Blackwater asks.

Dr. Artemis points to the sink.

“You are very strong yes? Do you know of the hand-to-hand combat?”

Tiana Swift turns to look a the doctor now, “So what if, say I bash someone on the head and they are badly injured but not dead, how soon would they need to die before it could be murder. Because I think it has to be within a year in England.”

Darien Blackwater grins at her, “Some, Mam. I studied Karate for a year. But mostly I just rely on being so much stronger then humans.”

Dr. Artemis slips his hands into his suit jacket pockets, “Well, if it’s murder, it’s murder, though a defense attorney might argue the point. But if you robbed a grocery store twenty years ago, no one cares.”

“There was that famous example with the great train robbery—you see,” Tiana replies, “They hit a guard over the head and he never really recovered but took three years to die so it wasn’t murder.

“I have not had what you call the good spar in a time now quite long, I worry about my skills becoming as you say, rusty, your vampiric level of strength and speed it should be of an the adequate challenge I hope?’ Miss Winterflower says eyeing Darien Blackwater.

“Of course his family always argued the injury contributed to his death but there was little the courts could do. Interesting,” The English vampress says, then has a thought, “So, what about a bank? Would they care more if it were a bank?”

“If he takes three years to die, the attorney will say he would have died any way.”

Tiana Swift nods, “Yes it would be a tough one to argue.”

Darien Blackwater finished the blood and chocolate in a gulp and looked at the woman. “An unusual request. Would you promise not to hurt me? I know you are capable of much more that you appear to be.” He said quite seriously.

“I’m sure the statute of limitations for a bank is longer. Bankers make the laws.” The doctor tells the professor.

Tiana Swift nods, “Well, as far as I know there’s no such thing in England.”

“I would not hurt you beyond anything the natural of the rapid healing couldn’t fix in a day or so. . . .”

‘Though obviously the longer ago a crime was committed the harder it is to make a case. I am certain.”

Dr. Artemis stands behind the counter with Tiana and watches Darien Blackwater and Athena Winterflower.

“I’ve recently become a political activist you know.” Swift informs the Doctor.

Darien Blackwater shuddered slightly. “How about if we spar in a few days? I’m supposed to be watchin’ things here, you know.”

Dr. Artemis looks at her, “You’ve always been a political activist, Professor.”

“Just leafleting and talking to people.” She then nods, “Oh, yes I suppose I have. My current goal is to end the United Kingdom and bring independence to my country. But I think I spoke about that last time.”

“Truth to tell, you scare me.” Darien Blackwater says to Athena. “I’m so used to it being effortless. The fighting. But fighting someone who can actually hurt me might be good for me.”

“Oh, never mind.” Professor Swift says looking over Blackwood and the Winterfleur woman, as they seem to be involved in some adolescent mating ritual – the need to wrestle with one another.

Miss Winerflower sighs. ”It is fine Monsieur, I heard there is an interesting way to find a spar in this era, I was just hoping of having the challenge.” She bows her head and turns to leave.” And then she stops. “I could teach you to fight like me, no?”

“Era—did she say era?” Tiana asks. “Why does she keep saying era?”

“Actually I’d appreciate that. . . . I mean. . . . if you focused more on the teaching me part and less on the hurting me part?” he managed a thin smile.

Dr. Artemis looks at Darien Blackwater and rubs his chin.

“Pain is the lesson, it is the first lesson, what I teach is the art of the macabre.” She looks back at him. “The Danse of the Death. . . . “

“The Danse Macabre. I’ve heard of it.” Dr. Artemis says, “It was a form of vampiric initiation.”

Darien Blackwater glanced at Artemis. “Your problem is you just don’t ask the right questions. I’m 52, Arty. No expert old vampire here.”

Dr. Artemis looks at him, “Turned in the sixties?”

“Actually it was a artistic genre of late-medieval allegory on the universality of death. Poems and paintings mostly.” Tiana Swift says.

“Hrm. . . I can’t say I ever heard of that . . . as a vampiric ritual.” Darien Blackwater nodded at the Doctor again. “Yeah. In Los Angeles.”

“In judgment day they had 4 killers, starving man, forge master, mosquito and macabre . . . also known as famine, war, pestilence and death. . . . . . “ She tells him.

“Sounds like something from Revelations in the Bible.”

She takes a flourished bow. “Should you seek these lessons then you will dance with macabre herself . . . .”

“Um. . . now you are really getting’ scary, Mam. I mean, dance with death. You say you won’t hurt me too bad, but I read about what you did.”

“Death? Death drinks domestic Merlot?” Tiana asks.

“Well . . . It’s getting late for me.” The doctor says checking his pocket watch.

“Macabre doesn’t mean death, actually, it means gruesome and horrifying; ghastly: horrible; and pertaining to, or representing aspects of death. But death, death is la mort,” Professor Swift muses.

Miss Winterflower she looks at Blackwater, her eyes intent. “If you weren’t scared I would refuse to teach you on grounds of being the fool. . . . “

“Goodnight, Professor.” Dr. Artemis says to Tiana,

“A question, if you don’t mind, Doc.” Darien Blackwater says.

Dr. Artemis looks over at the infatuated Athena Winterflower. “Miss Winterflower.” He gives a short wave. Then looks at Blackwater, “What is it, Blackwater?”

“Why won’t you ever tell people your first name? Why do I have to call you Arty or Art or Artemis or Doctor?”

Tiana Swift smiles, “I thought Doctor was his first name.”

He looks at her, “Doctor is fine.”

“And he does happen to be a doctor.” The professor grins.

“Quite so. “

“Which was incredible foresight on the part of his parents.”

Dr. Artemis sighs, “It’s of no importance, Blackwater.”

Darien Blackwater shrugs. “I promise I won’t laugh. Even if it’s Horace, or Reginald, or Englebert.”

“Goodnight, all.” The Doctor moves to the kitchen door.

“Better then your last name being king and your parents naming you Joe. . . . . . or being Joe the King. . . . . . “ Miss WInterflower says and everyone stops suddenly and stands looking at her with a long pause.

Dr. Artemis departs.

Athena Winterflower bows her head to him as he leaves.

“Hübner.” Tiana says as after he is gone.

Tiana Swift, then smiles, “Goodnight Dwayne.”

“Dwayne? Is that his real name?” Darien Blackwater asks.

“Oops, did I let it slip?” She feints surprise, then smiles, “I just made that up.”

“You also said some German name. Hubner?”

“Hübner – u as in tube.”

“Oh and Monsieur Blackwater. . . .”

“Yeah, like with those funny dots.” Darien Blackwater nods, then looks at Athena Winterflower, “”Yes, Mam?”

“Umlaut.”

“What?” He asks.

“Those dots, they are called an Umlaut.”

Miss Winterflower does a quick 360, into a curtsey. “Please let me know when you have steeled yourself for the dance.” She walks back into the tearoom, where several moments later every candle near were she was standing splits in two.

Darien Blackwater shrugs at Swift.

She turns and walks back into the main room of the Nightingale.

Darien Blackwater shuddered, and then followed Swift.

Miss Winterflower looks at Samantha Brook who is curled up in a chair before the fire, “You’re still here Lady Brook?”

Samantha snuffles a bit- almost having fallen asleep, “Wha? Did he kill anyone yet?”

Darien Blackwater turned to Swift. “What do you think? Am I a fool to let this woman . . . Whatever she is . . . spar with me? She’s got some kind of serious magical powers.”

“You, I don’t think you have to dance to be one, no.” Tiana tells him.

“Tis not magic . . …”

“Violence solves nothing.” Professor Swift tells him, “But it can be very satisfying.”

The tearoom is now deserted – in reaction to Darien Blackwater.

“You sound like preachy Rhyaad. It solved things for me. And yeah, it was satisfying.”

“I don’t understand.” Tiana says confused.

“Tell me Lady Swift an answer to a question most theoretical . . .. Say, the tyrant plans to slaughter 20,000 innocent people. You have the skills and the means to eliminate the tyrant, though to do so you must employee the violence, do you let the tyrant slaughter the 20,000 or do you employee the violence to save the 20,000.”

“The 4400.” Samantha says sleepily.

“What?” Tiana Swift asks look at Miss Brook.

“Nothing.” Samantha replies.

Tiana Swift looks at her deadpan, “Naturally I blow his head off with a sniper rifle.”

“Thusly violence solved everything.”

Tiana Swift smiles now, “But what about his mother?”

Miss Winterflower sits back and takes the bottle of wine they left and pours another glass.

“You see, she might seek revenge.” Tiana continues, “And blow my head off with a sniper rifle. And then my friends blow her head off, and her friends blow their heads off, and their friends . . . hummm, do you see where this is going? Then again . . . the people I saved will no doubt be grateful.”

“So in end if nothing is done or something is done, the violence still is the final answer.”

“Or how about movin’ it up a few years, say to 1985? A gang of thugs are mugging people, stabbing um for a few dollars. Is it bad if I rips thier heads off? Didn’t I make the world a better place?” Darien Blackwater asks.

“Violence breeds only violence, but yes.” The professor replies.

“But a lack of violence can breed the violence.” Miss Winterflower suggests.

“That’s a little extreme.” Tiana tells her

“In the end the violence is the nature of people.”

“Robbery is bad but it hardly warrants summary execution. But—I have to go now.”

“Is it? And nobody would be coming for revenge on them. They were sub-human. Yeah, slit your throat for your purse they would.” Darien Blackwater tells the professor. “Well, good night Miss Swift. And I just want you to know my vigilante days are over. I don’t do that no more.”

Cue Music End of Episode