Colllinsport. For some time now there have been those within the small, coastal village who have been disturbed by unsettled dreams. Dreams of a haunted city and a dark lake. A lake whose obsidian surface lies without a ripple. The dark surface as smooth as glass. In the haunted city there is a festival – and those unfortunate enough to dream the dream, find themselves, alone, attired in some fanciful costumes, standing on the gray shale of the shore of the lake, listening to the plaintive melody of a far too lethargic orchestra and the strained laughter of some deceptive revelry – just before the terror begins. There is horror and bloodshed. And the terror of all their piteous cries. It is the endlessly echoing of their piteous cries which suddenly awakens them to the realization that soon the calendar will bring Collinsport’s own October Festival. And for those so chosen to dream the dream they grow ever more aware that something is slouching its way toward Collinsport.

The office is all darkness save for the light of a solitary desk lamp. The glow of the screen of the laptop, which could have increased the oasis of illumination, is darkened by the screen saver. The desk top is it’s usual strategic clutter. And Esther Friedman, rereading now for the third time tonight the scattered, handwritten pages of Hallie Stokes’ translation of David ben Golde’s journal, absently reaches now for the beer bottle. A shake of which, as well as a look up from the page she is contemplating, confirms she has already taken the last drink. She sits the bottle down. God—she takes a cigarette out of the pack and tosses it upon the scatter of pages. She has got be missing something? She lights the cigarette and with a snap the lighter finds itself tossed to land near the pack. But what? The journal was nothing more than a day by day accounting of her grandfather’s growing infatuation – did he really think he was all that safe from Báthory and his leeches. God—she exhales a long plaintive sigh as she had never used that word – not with Nikki around – but that’s what they were . . . Goddamned leeches. Not only did these leeches want her blood – they wanted to suck away everything she has known. And for what? To fulfill some goddamned centuries old contract?

Make her a blood slave to a pack of goddamned f**king leeches!

She takes a long draw of her cigarette.

She is running out of time. Soon that crazy Casimir would be winging his way back into her life. Life? What kind of life would she have – forever on the run? Because that was the only answer at the moment – flight. She had now, thanks to that crazy snow globe and f**king bookcase, the hideous recollection of what had happened when her family, her father and mother, had stood their ground and decided to fight – fight these vampires. And now – now the bastards would never pay.

The glow of headlights upon the storefront windows of Collins Investigations cast elongated shadows of Matigan & Wiley Law Offices in reverse across the floor. Nik. The toe of her boot kicks one of he beer bottles lying about the casters of her desk chair. With all of her arcane knowledge, her own vampirism, the f**king fact she was a f**king Báthory—and even Nik had found no solution to her dilemma.

She took another drag of the cigarette – although Nik . . . Nik would fight. And she couldn’t let that happen. Nikki, when provoked, could lose all reason – and there were no doubt far more of them than she would be able to take on by herself. And without Rhy or Sam they had no allies.

None that could be trusted.

No – if came to that, she could not let Nik sacrifice herself . . .

The door of the old law offices opens and Nicole Collins saunters in – her eyes immediately adjusting to the darkness of the office.

“Didn’t want anyone thinking we were open for business,” Esther says flicking ashes into the bowl of the black plastic ashtray.

Normally when she entered, Nicole upon seeing Esther seated at her desk felt an sense of security – as if as long as Esther was in her seat, at her desk, all was right with the universe. But tonight the universe was not having any of it – tonight the universe was back to its random mean old tricks. “Sitting in the dark? What? Picking up my bad habits.”

“Was thinking about drinking some blood later – we’re all out of beer.”

“I gather you have been working on the journal.”

“I keep reading it over and over again hoping something will fly off the page, there will be some sudden revelation . . . or, at least, it takes my mind off our little trip to the Sahara – but as usual I don’t know what to make of it.”

http://i1112.photobucket.com/albums/k499/nikkicollins1/Season%204/Snap_WlfUCAYjK01116800194_zpshkll2lfm.jpg

“So you have found nothing of significance?” Nicole asks as her runway stride brings her to the front of Esther’s desk.

She takes note of the empty deer bottles.

Esther waves her hand dismissively, “Nothing we don’t already know. What I do know is more about my granddad’s first crush then I do about how to keep this Báthory guy from repossessing my a**. Other than of course fleeing the country to some war torn area.”

Nicole sighs and takes a seat in the chair before Ester’s desk, her attention drawn to watching the cigarette smoke as it swirls in the glow of the desk lamp, almost as if mesmerized by it’s blue-grey swirl, as she allows one hand to dangle languidly from the arm of the chair, “This is beyond insane. I have dealt with necromancers, sorceresses, and with entities beyond the dimensions and spheres of our reality – and yet, I cannot find the proper leverage to nullify a bloody contract!”

http://i1112.photobucket.com/albums/k499/nikkicollins1/Season%204/Snap_v4CNo45Qhf1448047422_zps36f35mru.jpg

“Does our Báthory have any suggestions? Have you been able to contact her recently?” Esther asks, smoke from her cigarette escaping her lips to curl about every syllable.

Nicole lifts a brow with irritation, “No—I am not at all happy with her silence. It is as if whatever she is currently involved in is far more important—“

“Than what, my dear?” Comes the melodious voice from behind her—the sound of the opening of the door behind them absolutely undetectable. Which to Nicole means her mother did not use it – but rather just materialized . . . something Nicole herself has been practicing.

Esther looks up at the entrance also aware the door has not opened.

Nicole turns in her seat, “Mother. Where have you been?”

The same sauntering gait, Esther recognizes, knowing precisely where Nikki inherited it, as she watches with narrowing eyes Erzsébet Báthory as she approaches them, “Oh, hither and thither my dear . . .”

Nicole looks up at her from her seat, “Well—it is nice that you could take a moment to stop by.”

Esther stubs out her cigarette and begins to shuffle the pages of the translation rather haphazardly.

“I am sorry . . . I have been otherwise occupied.” The raven-haired Countess replies.

“So, while you were hither and thither about the earth, were you able to make contact with anyone from the old country?”

Erzsébet smiles wryly as she takes a seat, “I am the old country. I have no need to speak to diplomatic underlings – especially any of those paper diplomats who have invaded my lands.”

http://i1112.photobucket.com/albums/k499/nikkicollins1/Season%204/Snap_3KT8Wh6hDa2102938445_zpsrm18zinm.jpg

“I see—and so, seeing as you apparently have no influence over these vampires, who fail to even recognize you . . . then we are no further along than when we last spoke . . .”

The cold eyes turn to her daughter, “Upon my oath, I assure you Nicole, these supercilious vampiric peasants — which Stephen has so vaingloriously chosen for his petty minions — will fail to recognize me at their peril.”

“Then you are planning to meet with—“

“Stephen? My dear . . . after this insult to my blood, to my House . . . and to you, my daughter – there is nothing I look forward to more than an impromptu meeting with my uncle.”

Nicole’s eyes lighten, as does her mother’s.

“And so, as I am never late—but always just on time; I am here to help you with a solution to your friend’s predicament.” And Erzsébet turns her attention to Esther, “Now – Miss Friedman, if you would hand me this foolish contract made between your ancestor and my uncle.”

http://i1112.photobucket.com/albums/k499/nikkicollins1/Season%204/Snap_EeIJYB9C8s525111437_zpsnobquyyg.jpg

”That has been the biggest problem. I don’t have a copy of it. If I did, I might be able to find some clue . . . some loophole, some way out of this preposterous obligation, but without having the direct wording how can I?”

“Mother – as I explained earlier we don’t have the contract – what we have is Esther’s grandfather’s old journal.”

“And then there’s the fact . . . “ Esther continues with a deep sigh, her boot hitting a empty beer bottle at her feet causing it to roll loudly under her desk, “I can’t read Latin! So even if I had the damned thing I couldn’t actually read it . . . and even if I could, even if I were to find something—I can’t use it to sue, or to get an injunction – because no court would see a case involving vampires.” And then she leans forward, placing her elbows on the desk, as so to hold her head in her hands, “I am so screwed.”

“This is not true – you have a copy.”

Esther lifts her head slightly from her hands and peers at Báthory, “I’m sorry—what?”

“You were handed a copy of his contract, no?”

Head still slightly above her hands, “Yes?”

“Then you have a copy – in your mind. You need only to remember it.”

“Oh, I can picture it in my mind. I see the f**king thing all the time – But, I can’t read Latin!”

“Latin?” Erzsébet lips curl into a cruel smile, “Stephen’s misguided reliance on the Church.” And the word church escapes her lips in a hiss.

“But wait—if I can see it in my mind, . . . then Nik, can’t you – can’t you, well to put it bluntly, can’t you reach into my mind and then read it out of my head.”

Erzsébet looks over to Nicole with a smile, “You see—we have a copy.”

“Can you mentally picture it, Esther—can you hold it clearly in your mind?” Nicole asks as she rises from her chair and slowly steps around Esther’s desk.

“I can try. It was a very. . . startling experience. I can recall it quite clearly.” Esther’s gaze follows Nikki as she seems now to move so effortlessly.

And the darkness of the office seems to deepen. The small radiance of the desk lamp becoming the only courageous sentinel of light as the dim illumination slanting down through the storefront windows seemingly is in retreat as Nicole moves ever closer toward Esther. Although it is only Nikki – she cannot help feeling a sudden instinctive anxiety as she approaches – as Nikki gives way to that which resides within her.

Nicole stands before her and smiles, her forefinger reaches out and touches her chin to tilt her head back as Esther looks up at her – at those arctic blue eyes, whose very hue now seems to be growing lighter: a pale blue becoming even lighter – so bright they instantly capture the eye – as they are now a shade of blue that Esther has never seen any other person possess – so blue they might be taken for the eyes of the blind – only she knows Nik can see . . . see into her . . . mind.

“That’s it just look into my eyes.” Nicole says, her voice having become so very soft and soothing, “Clear every thought. There is only the sound of my voice – the light of my eyes.”

Erzsébet watches with a wicked smile – and a mother’s approval.

“Look into the fathomless depths of my eyes.” Nicole whispers.

Only Esther hesitates – feeling now the overwhelming mesmerizing effect of Nikki’s voice – the fascination with her eyes – as a subconscious reflex tries to counter the supernatural influence: the flicker of the instinct for fight or flight.

“Hear my voice Esther – there is nothing to fear. I will let no harm come to you,” Nicole tries to sooth her as she senses now the resistance, “Yes—that’s it, relax. Let loose of all your anxieties – your fears . . . you can feel them slipping away. One . . . by . . . one, till they are – gone.”

Nicole stares into Esther’s eyes and can feel herself beginning to take control . . . entering now into her mind. . . aware . . . of time . . . of time running out . . all this time . . . and nothing’s been done – we’ve come no closer to a solution . . . and. . . they are coming . . . the f**king leeches . . . coming back . . . for her . . . and there is no telling what disgusting things they have planned . . . for her . . . . to do to her . . . God . . . a beer . . . could use another beer—but there isn’t any in the refrig . . . the last one, gone . . . and, she can all but taste . . .

“Let’s go back Esther. Back now to a different time—a different place. We are in the woods not far from the Old House. Do you remember?”

“Rhy! – what the f**k is happening—“ Esther suddenly says aloud. “Has he gone crazy? F**king letting Artemis into . . . “

“Yes—but, we are going into the woods now.”

Esther shakes her head, “But I don’t want to go into the woods.”

“There is nothing to fear—for I am with you,” Nicole tells her and steps closer, her hand reaching out to caress her cheek, “And so – we are moving . . . it is night . . . and we are entering into the woods – through the trees . . . into the clearing.”

“I can use a cigarette.”

And suddenly she is startled as a lighter suddenly appears out of the darkness., “Allow me dear.”

Nicole sees the lighter, hears the cold voice with its European accent. Sees Casimir’s wicked smile.

“No—“

“I am with you Esther – he can not harm you . . . now, what does he have to show you?”

“An envelope –with an old document inside. Its worn vellum.”’

Casimir hands it to her.

Silent as the darkness Erzsébet Báthory has sat watching with a mother’s keen interest as her daughter as slipped so effortlessly into Esther’s mind – but now, she begins to lean forward.

‘What is it? Nicole asks, “This document?”

“It’s—some kind of ancient contract. With seals and signatures and s**t.”

‘Yes, now that you see it, hold it its image in your mind.”

“But—It’s in Latin! I can’t read Latin and it’s signed . . . in blood.”

“But you have read it, Esther, remember back to that night, in the woods, the envelope, the document –“

Casimir’s smiles as he reaches up and touches her forehead and the words on the document begin to rearrange from Latin into English.

“The words are changing—“

Nikki’s hand ever so slowly moves over and lifts a pen from the desk.

But as she does so, she suddenly feels Esther struggling against her. Esther’s will is so strong – she seeks to take control once again.

Erzsébet smiles.

“Esther – the document, keep your mind focused on the document.” Nicole commands her.

Esther tries to relax, saying to herself . . . there is nothing to fear this is Nik. She’s going to help. It’s Nik. Let her help.

Nicole quickly forgets the pen and ever so gently now brushes back the hair on Esther’s forehead, softly, soothingly, “You are safe Esther, safe and protected. . . I will not let anything happen to you . . . but you have to allow me to see – to see what you see.”

Nicole catches glimpses once again of the trees. . . she can feel Esther’s anxiety as she is confronted by the vampire. . . . the scent of the evergreens about them . . . the smoke from Esther’s cigarette – the horrid cologne on Casimir’s clothes.

“We are opening the envelope, and removing the page, unfolding it – and it is in Latin, but, ‘Mores the Pity’ he says and you feel the cold, pale finger as he touches you—and you can now read the page before you.” Nicole says, her voice so, so soft, almost a whisper as she looks deep into Esther’s eyes.

“Yes—“

And suddenly Nicole feels the caress of her mother’s mind within her own as she awaits in the event she can capture the image . . . if her daughter can not.

“Yes—that is perfect, hold it for a moment—“ Nicole tells her –once again she is about to the reach for the pen . . .

But Erzsébet leans over and takes the pen away and with a piece of paper from the clutter of the desk and begins to hurriedly write.

Only Esther who has become comfortable with Nikki being within her mind – suddenly is aware now that Báthory is doing so as well—and, she suddenly sits back.

Nicole looks up and across the desk — “Mother!”

“You both have done well.”

Esther sits back softly muttering to herself , “Stephenus Rex . . . documentum. . . Iudaeorum tutum Polonia . . . “

Her longer fingered hand moving quickly across the page, Erzsébet Báthory transcribes what she has seen within Esther’s memory, even as Nicole stands to watch, looking at the strong flair of her mother’s handwriting – aware of the fact that she is standing like a child, admiring her mother’s handwriting as she sees it for the first time – for as she recalls, she has never seen her mother’s handwriting before.

The Countess’ eyes narrow slightly, having written all she has seen from Esther’s memory, and she sits back now to read once again what she has written and languidly smiles.

She rather dramatically hands the page over to Nicole, who takes it and reads the sweeping cursive script:

On this, the Twelfth day of December 1586 by the Christian calendar, I hereby pledge my life, and the life of my descendants to the service of his majesty, King Stephen, by the grace of God, King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania, Russia, Prussia, Mazowsze, Samogitia, Kiioviae, Voliniae, Podlachiae, Livoniaeque, as well as prince of Transylvania. With this document, I hereby guarantee the safety of the Jewish people in the land of Poland, as much as His majesty can offer. Me, and my descendants, shall do the bidding of his majesty, no matter the cost. I hereby pledge. May I be free in heaven. Signed, Moishie ben Aliyah.

Esther sits and blinks as the scene in the woods with that vile Casimir with his evil smile slowly fades, along with the lingering scent of his cologne, and her mental defenses quickly build back up again.

‘You got it?” She asks

Nicole hands it to Esther.

A bit disoriented, she takes the paper, “I . . . wha—?”

And she looks at it.

“Are you sure this is it?” Nicole asks her mother.

“The ink of course had faded, but your friend’s mental image was very clear—as it should be, for her life depends upon it, no?’ Erzsébet looks now to the young woman behind the desk, “And so Miss Friedman – you did most exceedingly well. For now we have the document!”

Esther is too intently studying the document at first to even register what is being said to her, “Hmm? Oh yes.” She replies absently, scanning through the cursive script—but then suddenly remembers, and looks up across the desk at Nik’s mother, and gives her a polite smile, “Oh yes, thank you.” And then she looks up to Nikki. “Both of ya, thank you.”

“At least now we can study it.” Nicole replies.

“Yes—“ Esther agrees, “Look at this!” She points now to the King’s Guarantee. “This will definitely help!”

“Help my dear.” Erzsébet Báthory says with a wry smile, “What you hold in your hand is the answer to your dilemma.”

Esther looks up to Nikki quizzically.

Báthory sighs, “You have eyes but you do not see.”

“Mother?”

Idly, her long-fingered hand reaches up to pull at a few stray strands of hair along the back of her neck, Erzsébet sitting all to regally in the chair almost sighs with boredom, “From what you had told me Nicole, I was more than certain that this meeting with Stephen was going to conclude with nothing less than catastrophic violence. . . and it may yet very well end in some violence – but of my own making.” The raven-haired Countess said with a haughty lift of her chin, “Owing to the wrenched disrespect that was so afforded to you by this vulgar paraszt. This – what was his name—I so do want to meet him.”

“Casimir.”

“Yes,” She says with a hiss – her eyes once again beginning to darken. “It is of course a matter of honor, my dear. Honor and respect. Once, long ago, there was a very lovely wench, lithe, and of some exceeding beauty,” her hand now making a rather dramatic gesture as her thoughts seem to slip back through the centuries, to a moment in time she will not forget, “Who, having captured his ever wandering eye, was especially chosen by my husband, Ferenc; for he was of a mind that she could best serve his rather exceptional needs, which I found at first to be a relief as he had another to distract him – but, upon his departure and return to his troops, this serving girl, this peasant—she took to his rooms, and his bed, and slept late into the day, believing herself now to be of equal footing with I among the household of Csejte. A sloven kibaszott kurva with a shrewish mouth, who felt she could express to me Ferenc’s confidential critiques he had so inappropriately whispered to her in the night concerning my lack of desire for his manly needs. Alas, the disrespectful wretch, found herself . . . one frozen, winter’s morning stripped of her dress and underclothes, bound to a wooden stake, where upon buckets of water were poured over her . . . until . . . that lovely, lithe body did glistened in the shade of a linden tree like a wondrous ice sculpture.”

The darken office is filled with silence.

Esther and Nicole look at the Countess.

And Erzsébet lifts a brow, looking up to her daughter, “I said I did not murder over six hundred girls – I never said I was innocent.”

Nicole continues to stare at her.

“And neither are you.” Erzsébet says in sharp reply to Nicole’s silence.

“I—“ Nicole begins.

“You are of the line of Báthory and of Collins. Your birthright is murder and sin.” The raven-haired beauty says evenly.

Esther looks at her – reformed? Is that even possible for someone . . . someone like her . . .

“Fear not Miss Friedman – for you are a free woman.”

“You—are aware that to him you are considered dead . . . “ Nicole says moving on from icy revelation, her eyes having narrowed and grown darker. “If you expect to exert some influence over him.”

“Oh, I can assure you he will find I am far from dead—but, I need no influence, his own contract negates all hold he has over anyone.”

Esther sighs, “Never has a Jew been more happy for Pogroms and Worse. Oh god that’s awful. And yet a silver lining appears.”

“As horrid as it is for me to say, more that a silver lining, but bright rays of sunshine for you.”

“We need to get this taken care of ASAP.” Esther feeling now for the first time since Casimir appeared to her in the woods to light her cigarette some measure of relief, “Does anyone know where he is? Or should we just go announce our intent in the that clearing in the woods and have his goons pick us up?”

Erzsébet Báthory waves a hand, “I have tracked him down—the great king, he hides himself away . . . in a bookstore in Manhattan.”

“Then I think we must go to him.” Esther once again looks to the page bearing Erzsébet Báthory’s handwriting.

“I do agree.”

Nicole takes Esther’s hand – “Esther for once you can rest easy since this all began!” She cuts a hard glare to her mother, “We are assured of that?”

“Yes—you can be well assured.”

“Not knowing what he is like—and, then that Casimir. . . . I’m not so sure.” Esther looks up at Nikki, “But at least we are no longer grasping at straws.”

“I must say, I do so long to see Stephen.” The Countess says with some mirth, ‘To see his face—when he sees me . . . and I tell him he what a fool he seems to have become in his advanced years.”

“I am sorry Mother—I have no trust in him and so I must put my trust in you that you know what you are doing.”

“Now, when we meet, Miss Friedman, I want you to show no fear. You are to hold your head high, haughty before an former King. I will lay out the preamble, and then at just the right moment, I will answer his request and allow you to throw this contract back into his face.”

“I will act however I act in front of the man who had my family murdered. No scripting. No dramatics. Just let me do my thing.”

Erzsébet Báthory smiles and nods ascent, “Of this I understand—there were acts taken against your family—without cause . . . and so, you should act accordingly.”

She looks up to Nicole, her eye’s bright with a mischievous gleam, “I can not wait.” And she laughs.

Nikki looks at her as she has never heard her mother’s laugh.

“In any event Esther—I will be there with you and if anyone dares to lay a hand upon you I shall tear them apart.”

The Countess’ laughs continues, “Spoken as a true Báthory.”

Cue Music End of Episode