Sharon had toyed with the idea of making one of the others sit in the front seat of the cab during the trip down to the pub, but decided that it was simply too cruel, what with the reputation that New York cabbies were famous for. And this guy, a lanky middle aged man with a turban and long beard proved to be no exception as he darted and weaved his way down Seventh Avenue at a ridiculously fast speed. He was also pretty talkative and seemed to like having company in the front seat for a change, although Sharon, since she could barely understand his accent, simply spent most of the ride smiling and nodding and hoping she wasn't getting herself into big trouble. The others in the back seat were silent, content to simply cling to the armrests, seatbacks and each other, occasionally muttering quiet prayers to themselves.

It was fairly dark when they screeched to a halt in front of The Jeckyll and Hyde, and the Village nightlife was already in full swing, Sharon noted as they stepped from the cab. She spotted several Knighties and Die-Hards already seated at the tables that lined the front of the pub, and from the looks of things inside, there was already quite a crowd gathered.

Nat took a moment to smooth her dress, a very simple black dress accessorized with a simple string of pearls. Then she nervously patted her hair. As the others moved into the club, Sharon lagged behind. "You're nervous about Dorian, aren't you?" she asked.

Natalie frowned at her, then her eyes slid to the sidewalk and she nodded. "Guess it shows, huh?"

"A little," Sharon agreed. "You've been a little quiet all afternoon."

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," she said, raising her head and looking into the crowded pub. "Where in the hell is Nick?"

Sharon shrugged. "It's not to late to change your mind, you know," she said. "About this, I mean," she added, waving her hand in the direction of the pub. "We could hop into another cab, go back to the hotel, order room service, and just forget about the whole thing."

Nat turned and looked sharply at her. Then her face softened into a small smile. "Like I'm gonna get into another cab in *this* city!" she said, laughing. "Come on," she said, turning and shouldering her way past a few people standing in the doorway.

Sharon was several steps behind, trying to weave her way in and around people when she spotted both Angel and Janette descending on Natalie. Janette stood several feet in front Natalie, assessing her from head to toe for several seconds before shaking her head. Before Sharon could get to her, though, they were whisking Natalie through the crowd toward the secret entrance to the rest rooms. Sharon darted around a group of Knighties having an animated discussion about the suit of armor that stood against the far wall, and caught up with them just as they were about to enter.

"Wait!" she called out, moving to put her hand on Angel's arm.

"It's all right," Angel said, turning and blocking Sharon's way as Janette quickly led Natalie through the passage. "It's just a little surprise, that's all."

"What kind of surprise?"

"You'll see. In fact, I'm sure you won't even recognize her."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sharon asked defensively, ready to push her way past Angel and into the passage.

"Oh, stop," Angel said, her tone slightly disgusted. "If you must know, Janette bought Natalie a little gift. She does that from time to time, you know. It's just a new dress for the party tonight. We wanted to see how it looks."

"A dress?" Sharon asked, dubiously.

"You do know what those are, don't you?" Angel asked, blinking innocently at her.

Sharon was about to snap back, but stopped suddenly, remembering that Janette had said something about Natalie's wardrobe at the meeting and realizing only know that she had been serious. "OK," she said instead. "But if she's not out in twenty minutes, I'm coming in," she warned.

"Fine, fine," Angel said, nodding dismissively before turning and ducking back into the passage.

Sharon glanced at her watch, then made her way toward the bar, making sure she had a clear view of the passage in case Angel, Janette, or Natalie came out. To pass the time she ordered a yard of ale.

Nat looked at herself in the mirror incredulously. Janette and Angel had rushed her into the restrooms at the Jeckyl and Hyde, stolen her dress, and stuffed her into a crushed velvet gown. It was a lovely deep red that complemented her complexion wonderfully. It was unlike anything she had worn before. Anything she had ever considered wearing, for that matter. The dress was actually full length but it was slit to her hip. As she moved, she realized how much leg it showed. You could see the tops of her stockings. They were lovely -- transparent background with a red velvet lace pattern. Her eyes moved to the bodice of the gown. It was an offshoulder style dress. There was a deep 'V' starting at her waist and ending at her shoulders, showing an ample amount of cleavage. Thankfully, the 'V' was covered with a sheer black material. Angel was fastening a red velvet chocker around her neck. Natalie wondered how they had matched the obscure red color of the dress with the stockings and choker. And her shoes! They were three inch heels with a velvet sheen to them. Angel had commented on how she had purchased the "short ones." It would have been exquisite -- on anyone besides her.

"I am *not* wearing this out of here."

Janette cocked an eyebrow in her direction. "You simply can not be seen in that rag you had on." Tara had taken Nat's dress with her after delivering the new dress.

Angel smiled sincerely. "Natalie, I think you look great. If you really don't like it, I have an extra dress. I brought it just in case this one got ruined by a prank."

Nat looked disbelievingly at the handful of lace Angel pulled out of her bag. "*That* is a dress?" Angel nodded and smiled indulgently.

Just then Tara burst into the restroom. "Oh, goody. Did you bring my clothes back?" Nat asked sarcastically. Tara ignored her and whispered urgently in Janette's ear.

"Angel you will finish with Dr. Lambert. I have business to attend to." Janette turned and exited the restroom with Tara on her heels.

Angel looked at Nat. She wanted to get her makeover finished and get back to the men! "Nat, everyone's going to love your new look. They've never seen you dressed up before."

"Not like this, they haven't."

"Well, Sharon thought it was gorgeous. She helped me pick it out."

"*Sharon* picked this?" She grumbled something unintelligible under her breath. "

"She told me to get it," Angel said innocently. "C'mon, we still need to fix your hair and makeup." She pulled out a curling iron and makeup bag.

Nat started to object. Angel added soothingly, "You look fine for your other dress, but you're a bit understated for this dress."

Nat looked at the array of cosmetics in horror. "You're *not* doing my makeup like yours. I work with dead people all day. I don't want to see one when I look in the mirror."

Angel giggled. "Actually, Miklos asked me why I run around looking like a vampire if I don't want to be one. But don't worry. I won't put you through that."

"Why don't you let me do it myself?"

"Are you sure you remember how?"

"Very funny. Gimme that."

"Okay, you start the makeup, and I'll fix it when I'm done with your hair."

Nat sighed. This was a nightmare. Angel was a nice girl when she wasn't lighting cigarettes, but Nat really didn't want a demonstration of her cosmetic prowess.

Angel unbraided Nat's hair and fluffed it a bit. "Oh, wow. This is gorgeous. You could create the greatest styles with this." She pulled out a bag of pins and began playing with Nat's hair.

Ten minutes later, Natalie had been transformed. Her hair was piled atop her head with several riotous curls tumbling down one side of her face. Angel was applying the finishing touches to Nat's lipstick.

Natalie looked at the shade skeptically. "Isn't that a bit dark?"

"No, it matches your dress perfectly. I was going to let you use mine..."

At that moment, there was an anxious knock at the door. "Nat? Is everything okay in there?" It was Sharon.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. But I'd like to have a word with you as soon as we're through in here." Natalie sounded perturbed.

"There. You're done. Don't worry...you look terrific. You're going to sweep the men off their feet. Just wait till they see you!" Angel's enthusiasm was almost contagious. But not quite.

Nat smiled tolerantly. How could she show her face outside of this restroom?

"Well, let's get out of here. I don't know about you, but I'm getting claustrophobic in here." With that, Angel dragged Natalie out of the restroom and into the fray. "See ya." She turned and exited the pub.

Angel pushed quickly out of the bathroom and past Sharon, dragging Natalie in tow and shoving her out toward the main room of the pub before darting down into the tunnel. For her own part, Natalie whirled and scrambled quickly back into the bathroom, slamming the door before Sharon could get a really good look at her. She walked over and tentatively knocked on the bathroom door. "Nat?" she called.

"Get in here!"

Frowning, Sharon pushed open the door.

And stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth falling open as she stared at Natalie who turned from the mirror where she was busily wiping off some of her makeup. She turned a little too quickly and wobbled slightly on the three-inch heels but recovered quickly and glared at her.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" Natalie asked, hands on hips.

Sharon managed to choke out something inarticulate before finally settling for a simple "Huh?"

"The dress!" Natalie exclaimed, throwing her arms wide and gesturing at her body. "Angel said you picked it out."

That was enough to cause Sharon to recover. "Angel said what?"

"That you picked it out."

"I . . . well . . . I thought--I thought it was for her. And I didn't exactly pick it . . . uh." Her frown deepend as she leaned closer. "How does that . . . ?" she asked, trying to look at Nat's back. "I mean, it defies physics. How . . . ?"

"Never mind!" Natalie exclaimed, turning carefully back toward the mirror. "I *cannot* go out there looking like this! What if Nick sees me?"

Sharon cleared her throat and rubbed her neck. "Maybe that would be a good thing," she said innocently. "You look . . . really good. I'm pretty sure Nick'll love it."

She smiled as Natalie turned for a moment to glare at her before resuming her make-up repair. "Would you please go out and see if there's anyone who might have something for me to wear. A decent pair of shoes, at least."

Sharon glanced down. "Wow!" she exclaimed, leaning down for a closer look. "You ran on those things a minute ago! I'm impressed!"

"Go!" Natalie exclaimed.

"Want me to send Nick in when he gets here?" she teased on her way out.

It was just as well Nat's response was muffled by the closing door.

She shook her head and grinned before moving out into the crowded pub. It was full of Knighties, NatPackers and Die-Hards. Spotting Tanaquil standing in the corner having an animated discussion with a really cute guy she threaded her way through the crowd and up to them.

"I need to talk to you," she said, leaning over and speaking into Tanaquil's ear.

Tanaquil smiled apologetically at the guy, then leaned back. "Go away!" she hissed. "I'm busy!"

"Yes, I can see that. Did you bring a shawl or something? Nat needs it. It's an emergency."

"Go bother Linda," she replied.

Sharon sighed. "Can I borrow your shoes?" she asked.

In response, Tanaquil moved her foot and ground her heel down on Sharon's foot. Yelping in pain, Sharon took a step back. "Ow! Fine. Be that way."

She limped over a few tables and spotted Linda and Elizabeth seated at one of the center tables. They were just preparing to eat when Sharon went up to them.

"Hey!" Linda exclaimed in greeting. "Where's Nat? She's missing all the fun."

Sharon glanced around, then pulled away a chair from a nearby table, earning a dirty look from the man sitting there with a red-headed woman. "Sorry, I'll give it right back. I need to sit for a second," she explained. "My feet are killing me." She plopped down into the chair. "You should see the dress they've got Nat in," she began.

"Who?"

"Janette and Angel," Sharon replied. She quickly described the outfit to the two of them.

Linda was the first to push back her chair. "Oh, I gotta see this!" she said excitedly.

"I'll bet it's not half as bad as she thinks," Elizabeth said, moving to join Linda.

"Just . . . just sit. For a second, OK," Sharon said, motioning for them to take their seats back. "Nat sent me out to see if anyone had anything a little more appropriate that she could borrow. A shawl, a better pair of shoes. Something. Can you guys give me a hand?"

"Well, I don't have anything, but I know a few Knighties. I can ask them." Linda said.

"Me either. But I'll help too," Elizabeth added.

"Good. Lets meet at the restroom door in . . .ten minutes?"

"Works for me," Elizabeth said. They both rose and moved off into the crowd. Sharon looked after them, then reached over and helped herself to some of Linda's fish and chips with a generous dollop of the tartar sauce. Licking her fingers, she got up, returned the chair to the other table with a smile, and moved off into the crowd.

Ten minutes later, the three met near the bookcase. Linda shook her head. "All I managed to get was this," she said, holding up a clear plastic babushka with purple flowers on it. Sharon shook her head and turned to Elizabeth.

"Well, I saw that they sell t-shirts as I was passing the bar," Elizabeth began. "I bought it for myself, but Nat can borrow it if she wants. Other than that, I'm afraid I wasn't much help."

Sharon sighed. "Oh well. Nat'll just have to make do. I'll have to find some way to convince her that she looks OK and to come out."

Elizabeth grinned broadly. "I know how!" she said, moving toward the restroom door. "Besides I want to see what she looks like."

"How?" Linda asked.

"You'll see," Elizabeth said before ducking into the passageway. Sharon and Linda followed.

Nat had just finished toning down her makeup and carefully teetered around to face them. "Well?" she asked.

"Sorry," Sharon said, shrugging. "I don't think the babushka will match the outfit."

"You look fabulous!" Elizabeth exclaimed, moving forward. "Why are you so worried?"

"Look at me." Natalie said, waving her hands in front of her.

Elizabeth ignored her, brushing her hands aside and touching her shoulder, getting Natalie to turn around unsteadily. "Don't you think she looks great?" she asked, turning to Linda.

"Yeah," Linda said enthusiastically.

"In fact," Elizabeth said deliberately, "I bet she gives Janette a run for her money tonight, don't you agree?"

"Absolutely," Sharon said, after Elizabeth looked pointedly at her.

Nat had finally managed to regain her balance and looked at the three of them in turn as the exchange continued before rolling her eyes. "I'm not really convinced," she said sarcastically. "I think you need to keep shovelling. The bullshit level isn't quite high enough yet."

"Look, Nat," Linda said. "You really *do* look good. And besides, there's not much you're going to do about it now, so you should just make the most of it. It *is* a gorgeous dress."

Natalie started to protest again, then stopped and sighed. "I suppose you're right," she said, turning for once last look in the mirror. "All right," she said, turning back toward them and walking with steady and deliberate steps toward the door. "Lets get this over with."

Valerie, Amy and Jennie headed for the nearest restroom once they had their luggage. The facility was somehow nearly empty, which was fortunate since they took up nearly all of the available space while they were changing.

"Careful, Jennie. That makeup would look really funny on the dress instead of your face," Valerie admonished, "and you be careful of your hair, Amy!"

"Yes, ma'am!" they chorused.

They finished dressing in short order. "OK," let's get to this party," Jennie said as she slung a small handbag over her head and one shoulder. They gathered up their bags and ran out.

The trio piled into the cab with astonishing grace, given the dresses they wore, and spent several minutes trying to stuff the taffeta and crinolines in completely before closing the door. After telling the driver to take them to the Jeckyll and Hyde, they lapsed back into caffeine-induced chattering.

"Can you believe those flight attendants? They wouldn't give us anything to drink! Did they honestly think we would spill it on these dresses, after we went to all the trouble of making them?"

"I think they got worried after we dropped that package of beads all over the floor during takeoff."

"Well, we picked most of them up. The passengers at the rear of the plane didn't seem to mind us rooting around back there."

"I could still hear several of them rolling around everytime the plane banked, though. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them wound up in the cockpit."

"Oh, well. They'll just have to clean extra carefully this time!"

"So how do you think the party is gonna go?"

"No idea. I just hope nobody gets bitten this time." The cab driver gave them a strange look.

The Jeckyll and Hyde set the three off laughing as soon as they saw it. "For adventurers and mad scientists! That's us!" Amy laughed.

"Mad certainly fits. My feet are killing me from walking all those blocks in ballet slippers, carrying all this luggage." Jennie continued lurching toward the front doors of the club.

"Well, when the cab driver said he couldn't get in here we didn't have a choice!" Valerie shot back. "Besides, you were certainly happy we found ballet slippers in your size when we raided the castoff box at BalletMet!"

"Yeah, men's. Story of my life, with feet this size. But they are nice, they just hurt right now!" Jennie stuck one foot out to admire the slipper and overblanced slightly, staggering several steps to one side.

They struggled through the doors of the pub and stood just inside for a few moments, letting their eyes adjust to the light.

"Hey, this is nice. Better even than people told me," Valerie approved.

"Look, there's a corner where we could dump our luggage," Jennie pointed out a fairly dark one. They gratefully dropped their suitcases and bags in a big heap.

"Are you sure it's gonna be OK to leave my gradebook here like this?" Amy fretted as she laid her canvas book bag on the pile, "Grades are due this week and I really need it."

"It's all Natpackers and Knighties in here tonight, they won't do anything to it," Jennie said.

Valerie had been peering about the pub once again and she spotted Nat heading in their general direction. "Hi!" she said brightly.

Nat didn't bother with hello's. "What did you bring *her* here for?" she demanded. "She needs to stay at the Jack the Ripper and make sure things are peacef...wait, who are you?" That last was addressed directly to Amy.

"Amy Hull. I know I look like I belong somewhere else, but I'm really one of you...what are you wearing?!?!?"

"What are *you* wearing?" Nat countered, including all three of them in the question. "I mean, Janette dressed me, what's your excuse?"

"Temporary insanity," Amy ventured.

"Sleep deprivation," Jennie offered.

"Like this is unusual?" Valerie countered.

"Well, at least Valerie's outfit is an improvement over what she was wearing on the Islands." Nat commented. Valerie made a face at her. "I'll see you later, I've gotta go say hi," Nat continued as more people came through the door.

"Oh, this place is so cool! So, what's the plan?" Amy bounced.

"Plan? What plan? We don't *have* one, this is a war!" Valerie explained. "Let's get something to drink,"she continued, heading over to the bar to order. Amy and Jennie trailed in her wake, several people doing double takes as they noticed Amy's astonishing resemblance of Janette.

"I'll have a Killian's Red to start with," Jennie looked at Amy expectantly.

"I'll just have cranberry juice - straight," Amy responded.

"You know, there isn't much happening here yet. I think we have to wait awhile before things really get moving," Valerie commented after watching the other patrons of the pub for awhile, "Let's check out that tunnel!"

"Yeah, I'm really curious - I mean tunnels in New York, we *can't* pass those up!" Jennie answered excitedly.

"OK!" Amy giggled. She grabbed her big ugly black purse, which she refused to leave behind, and they swished their way to the back corridor. There were several minutes of giggling while they located and opened the tunnel entrance, then they stumbled noisily down the steps. "We're living up to the adventurers part of the sign out front, at least!"

"Oh, this is fabulous! I need to come back with my camera!" Amy chattered. "I left it in that pile with the luggage."

"The one you took all those pictures of Valerie as a witch with?" Jennie queried.

"Yep. I've still got three rolls of film, though." Amy said proudly, then her expression changed and she jumped back. "What is *that*?" she breathed.

Valerie planted her feet and glared in the direction Amy pointed. A figure was just barely visible ahead in what appeared to be a room at the end of the tunnel.

"What? Oh, I see..." Jennie resisted the urge to jump ten feet into the air out of long habit (five brothers will do that to you) and peered more closely into the darkness ahead. "It looks like a 'who,' Amy. But she's so pale...is it maybe part of the decor?"

The figure vanished around a corner.

"OK, I guess not." Jennie continued. "Whoever it was, she looked like she didn't want to talk just now."

They continued to the big center room, then decided to head for the Ripper.

"I'd like to check out all the pubs, but I'm not sure how we stand with the Cousins," Valerie commented as they made their way through the appropriate tunnel.

When they came to the end of the tunnel, the spiral staircase posed a few problems for them. It took them awhile to make their way upwards because the skirts were getting tangled in the railing and they nearly wound up in a heap of crinolines at the bottom a few times. They literally fell through the door when they reached the top.

Loud music immediately assaulted their ears and they staggered a few steps more, completely off balance. Amy began gesturing wildly at the other two and it took awhile before Jennie realized she was trying to say something in Sign Language. Valerie was nodding as if she understood, but Jennie hardly knew any of it, although she did recognize several letters. She put one hand on Amy's shoulder to get her attention and shook her head, yelling, "Slower!" at her. Amy repeated some of the gestures, more slowly this time.

"Tara? Yeah, I suppose she'd be here, but I don't see her just now..." Jennie shouted, not even trying any Sign. They stepped a bit further into the room.

Most people would have considered the music volume in the Jack the Ripper to be fairly moderate for a nightclub, but Amy found it deafening. As usual in a place where she could not hear well, she had instantly gone into interpreter/deaf mode and English had gone bye-bye--much to the amusement and frustration of her two companions.

Valerie and Jennie were looking around and taking in the club, both analyzing the decor and patrons in their own ways. Jennie would later remember the layout and colors. Valerie would remember the average age, gender, clothing style/color and current activities of the clientele as well as the atmosphere set in the pub by the decorations, music, and lighting. Amy was busy trying to ignore the reflections of the different forms of lighting on the edges of her contact lenses; she wore them too rarely to be able to automatically filter out the interference. She kept her fingertips on Jennie's elbow for a point of reference--and to make sure she didn't accidentally get lost amongst the unfamiliar and unpredictable Ravenettes--while blinking and scanning for a familiar face.

Suddenly Amy's eyebrows raised and her manner perked up. She turned to face Valerie and Jennie and, raising her right hand to their eye level, waved at them to get their attention. They turned and she pointed across the room to a lone figure on a bare stool who was thoughtfully observing the activity in the pub.

"Tara," Amy fingerspelled, saying the name quietly, then pointing again. She gestured for them to come with her and headed toward her friend, keeping Jennie in two by tugging at her dress sleeve. She dodged several Ravenettes, keeping an eye on Valerie and Jennie's progress behind her, then turned forward again to see an obstacle that had not been there a moment before. The obstacle was too close and Amy crashed headlong into it, and grabbed it to keep from falling. She realized belatedly that the object had been a person and looked up to see Janette's disapproving and unamused gaze looking through her.

Amy quickly disentangled herself from her victim, "I'm so sorry! I didn't see--"

"Who are you?" Janette demanded coldly, brushing drops of liquid from the front of her dress.

Good thing she's wearing a dark color.... Amy thought wildly, then turned to Valerie and Jennie for reinforcement. This was the first time she had met any of the vampires, and, contrary to all that she would have expected, Amy found herself speechless and terrified at the concept. Dumbly, she pointed to her companions with one hand and herself with the other, hoping the concept, "I'm with them" would come across in the gesture.

"Ah," Janette's smile returned to her lips if not her eyes, "Natalie's little friends. Yes, I remember you," she turned to Valerie. "You were the one in the dreadful clothes who seemed to be an important part of her little group. And you," she looked down at Jennie--an amazing feat considering that Jennie was at least five inches taller than Janette--"You're the one who took my clothes. I have thought about what I would do with you when I saw you again." Janette's smile became a little frightening.

The three NatPackers glanced nervously at each other, feeling even more strongly the party lines they had crossed by coming here.

"But," Janette continued in a dismissive, almost sing-song tone, "I have other matters concerning me that are more pressing." Her voice dropped to a menacing whisper without warning. "I would suggest that you leave here before I rearrange my priorities. This is my place tonight. Do not show your faces here again unless you are prepared to face the consequences."

Janette turned and walked away, not even giving the NatPackers a second glance. They immediately began to make their way across the room toward the tunnel, abandoning all thoughts of finding and talking to Tara.

Jeff was in pain. First all the lights had flashed on blinding his oversensitive eyes and then the music had screeched from the beautifully dark melody of 'Dominion' by Sisters of Mercy to that Goddess awful 'smurfs' junk! It was enough to push him over the edge! Raising his arms he cried out as lightning streaked from his fingertips and overloaded the pub's entire electrical system.

After the shock of what had happened had worn off, the staff started lighting candles and a boombox was brought from a back room as 'Temple of Love' by Sisters of Mercy started to fill the room.

Having become lost in the confusion Jeff swayed on his feet, totally drained by what he had just accomplished. Luckily Angel had been standing nearby and was immediately by his side, helping him support himself until he recovered.

"Jeff? Are you ok?" she asked in deep concern.

"I'll be...all right..." he gasped back as he started regain enough strength to stand on his own yet clinged to her for comfort "It is time we taught them both a lesson, my love."

Angel's eyes lit up as she remembered the little 'insurance policy' that they had had installed in the pubs of the other factions a couple of days earlier. Grinning widely at each other, they ran down to the tunnels.

[a short while later...]

"Hmm, I think it's time we get back to the Jeckyll and our own kind, don't you think?" Valerie suggested.

The other two didn't bother to voice their agreement, they just nodded and started back for the door to the tunnels. After fumbling the door open, they started down the spiral staircase.

"Oh, I *swore* I wasn't going to head the other way on this thing when we were on the way up! I can't see my feet for all this taffeta!" Amy complained.

Jennie concentrated on keeping her feet on the steps. "At least we can feel where the steps are through the soles of these slippers! Whoops, they're a little slippery at times, though."

They fumbled and slipped their way to the bottom of the stairs, then stopped for awhile to catch their breath.

Angel and Jeff ran down the stairs from the Jeckyll and Hyde, desperately trying not to burst out laughting. As they headed towards the main room, Jeff grabbed Angel's arm, motioning for her to be quiet. The sound of voices carried from the tunnel by the Jack the Ripper.

"I don't know those voices. They aren't Ravenettes," Angel whispered in his ear. "Do you suppose they're more Knighties?"

Jeff looked down at her with a mischievous look. "Shall we play a prank on them, m'lady?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Angel almost laughed aloud when she heard Jeff's plan. They snuck into the main room to wait for the ladies. Angel reached over and cut out the lights, leaving the tunnels in total darkness.

Amy, Valerie and Jennie finished putting themselves together after the staircase descent and started off down the tunnel, intending to head back to the Jeckyll and Hyde. They stopped rather suddenly as they were plunged into complete blackness.

"What happened?" Jennie asked. "Does anyone know which way is out?" She closed her eyes and tried to visualize the tunnel ahead of them.

"We should link hands so we don't lose each other," Amy suggested, ever practical. She and Jennie fumbled around until they found each others' hands. "Valerie, where are you?"

"OK, whoever turned the lights out, this isn't funny!" Valerie called, obviously irritated. She also made no move to find or grasp the hands the other two held out blindly in the darkness. There was no answer, only a sort of shuffling sound from down the tunnel. The Natpackers began to get really worried. After all, the Cousins and a number of vampires had access to the tunnel as well.

"Who's there?" Jennie quavered. She knew she was probably being ridiculous, but this was beginning to get on her nerves. She moved forward a couple of paces, dragging Amy with her and groping blindly for the wall with her free hand. Amy dug through her bag, searching for her flashlight.

Angel and Jeff waited in their respective places. The only sound in the pitch black tunnel was the rustling of taffeta. They could almost smell the adrenalin from the three girls as they slowly advanced.

Amy finally found her flashlight as they reached the main room. She turned it on just as Jeff and Angel jumped at them from either side of the entrance. Jennie was startled to see a white face flying towards her. She shrieked and leapt backwards into Amy. The flashlight clattered to the floor, illuminating a wild tumble of skirts and skin.

Valerie saw a large figure in black moving towards her and took the offensive. She jumped at it, ready to pummel it, but her leg got caught in her skirt. The barely illuminated ground was rapidly approaching when two hands grabbed her around the waist and lifted her back up.

The girls heard laughter as the lights turned back on. Angel stood a few feet away, giggling uncontrollably. Valerie looked up into the eyes of Jeff, who still held her around the waist lightly. "Get your hands off me!"

"I'm sorry, m'lady." The look in his eyes entreated her to forgive him, but he couldn't hide his mirth. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"What do you guys think you're doing?" demanded Amy, as she dusted herself off. "I thought we had a truce with you."

Angel tried to breath deeply enough to speak, but it was hopeless. The memory of the Nat-Packers falling all over themselves was too fresh in her mind. "We...we..." She gave up, and sank to the floor, laughing.

Jeff walked over and offered Jennie a hand up. He pulled her off the floor easily and kissed her hand once she was upright. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Jeff." Between his charming manner and endearing smile, Jennie just couldn't be angry with him.

Angel was finally able to communicate again. "We thought you were the enemy. We're playing a little joke on the Cousins and Knighties." Angel giggled as Jeff moved over to one wall and pressed a series of hidden buttons there.

"It's set," he whispered to them and the group retreated to the central chamber as he produced a small remote and said "Now, as soon as I've pressed the button, run like crazy!" As he pressed it the two groups ran, giggling, to their separate pubs...

Meanwhile, in both the Slaughtered Lamb and the Jeckyll and Hyde the sound systems seemed to become possessed! Out of each speaker blasted a different type of music, each worse than the last ranging the entire gamut from Lawrence Welk to Barney to disco, even the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers theme!

Jeff and Angel collapsed on a black leather couch in a far corner of the club, overcome with their humor at what they had just done.

Then a more serious light shone in Angel's eyes as she said "Jeff, I think that you should know something, my name isn't Angel..."

Jeff stopped her mouth with a kiss then said "Worry not m'love, 'What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.'"

Great, Angel thought I'm doing 'True Confessions' here, and he starts quoting Shakespeare! Aloud however she merely said, "You're not mad?"

Jeff regarded her with extreme amusement and replied "You had your reasons, m'love. And yes, I saw the little scene earlier and I found it hilarious, my friend." He reached around and embraced her. "Now why would I be mad?"

Lost in his embrace and the look in his eyes, Angel completely forgot what they had been discussing...

I sat in the Jeckyll and Hyde sipping my Virgin Mary as everything swirled around me. I was dressed in the only dress that I could think of being remotely decent for this occasion, my black dress with a floral print.

Nat and Nick and others were in the cellar for a confrence. I didn't care. I was ready to help Nat in any way possible, but I was much too bored. I'd slipped two books in my purse, but I was just too interested in the swirling of humanity to read them.

I concentrated on my drink, wondering if I should get more.

Someone slipped in beside me and I turned around to see who it was. My heart pounded as I recognized the last person I wanted to see. Vince.

"What are you doing here?" I exclaimed quietly. He smiled sweetly. I sometimes forgot about his smile, how it addicted me to him.

"I got back to Sacramento, and your mum told me that you'd gone to New York."

"She didn't give you my phone number here?" I said, amazed that she would even tell him where I was. Mom didn't like Vince.

"She did, but I didn't want to call. Besides, I had a reason to join you here."

"What reason?" I asked, somewhat curious. He picked up on my mood immediately. I'm a bad liar.

"Jennise."

"What has Jennise have to do with this? She's working in California."

"No, she isn't. She's here in New York."

"You came all the way to *New York* to tell me that she was here?"

"No, I came here to protect you from her."

"I don't need protecting. Besides, I have a good weapon."

He grumbled. "Don't get all tetchy about it. And keep any crosses out of my face."

"I will if you keep your mouth away from my neck."

He glared at me. "Eventually, you'll aquiese."

"Don't bet the farm."

"I'm not."

"So, Jennise is coming?" I asked him, curious to find out what was going on.

"Yes. She was talking to LaCroix about that fiction writer - Susan?" he asked, with a frown. "and a vampire named Dorian."

I whistled in amazement. "Dorian," I said, shaking my head. "So Jennise was talking to LaCroix about Dorian?"

"Actually, she was driving the car. Someone named Karin was talking to LaCroix. But they did mention they had a plan dealing with Dorian. Something that wouldn't make him so happy."

I looked at him. "Not surprising, considering LaCroix."

He shook his head. "No."

"In any case, I haven't seen Jennise. But she'd be at the Slaughtered Lamb with the rest of LaCroix's folk, not here."

"This place has an underground passage -"

"Connecting us to the Slaughtered Lamb, I know. But I don't think she will bother me. I can keep her away with passive sentences and misplaced modifiers. Good as any cross."

"You're *sure* you don't need to be protected?"

"I'm quite sure," I said.

He made a comment I didn't catch. "I happen to disagree."

"Too bad," I said.

"Too bad for you," he repiled. Before I could react, he had me firmly. I screamed, somewhat aware that not only was his grip painful, he had his fangs in my neck.

Then he was abruptly removed by someone. I don't know who it was, since I chose that moment to faint.

Sharon spotted the strange group of people as they came into the main room from the back. It appeared as if a woman was being forcibly pulled into the Jeckyll and Hyde. The woman had her arms tied down at her waist by a white shawl and someone had managed to find a bandana to muffle her voice, but she was still managing to get a few kicks in.

As she got closer she started to hear muffled curses. Most of them seemed to be coming from the "escort," especially the tall brunette. Closer still and she caught a faint odor of...fish? In fact some of the curses seemed to be about having to wade through a bunch of tuna in the tunnels. The rest seemed to be directed at their captive.

"What's going on here?" Sharon had come up to the group and was surprised to recognize Perri as the source of most of the cursing. "Is this a Cousin?"

"Sharon! Boy am I glad to see you... Actually, believe it or not, it's a Die-Hard. Do you remember Dawn from the last war? The one who organized a safe-house?"

"I'm not sure. At least she doesn't look familiar now... Why are you holding her prisoner?"

"She's done something... Well, it was *really* stupid, but then she's been acting reckless all night." Perri sighed and shrugged helplessly.

"She's normally a fairly quiet, non-violent person!" Kathy interjected. When the others just gave her unbeliving stares she had to continue, "Well... except for the Karate anyway."

"Karate?" Sharon asked, eyeing the bound captive.

"Why do you think we have her tied up like this? She says she's just a yellow belt, but I don't believe her." Kathy replied.

Sharon eyed the surroundings. They were drawing quite an interested crowd. As in the Slaughtered Lamb they weren't actively interfering. After all, it was wartime and Sharon was a known NatPacker. "Let's go over to the corner."

They dragged the stuggling Dawn and forcibly shoved her into a seat. Kathy reached over and hesitantly removed the bandana from her mouth.

"Kathy? I'd like you to know that your days are numbered." Dawn was glaring in turns at each of her captors. She was furious. She hadn't done anything too outrageous. I'm sitting here dying of thirst and freezing to death, but do they care? No! The others turned away from her and tried to figure out what to do. Meanwhile Dawn was trying to get to her pocket of knives. She still had a couple and once she cut herself free...

"Don't even think about it," Perri warned her without looking. "We think that she's having some kind of reaction to the vampire blood," she explained to Sharon.

"Vampire blood? Whose?"

"Miklos's. Apparently she managed to get a bit of his blood on a weapon and she licked it off..."

"Gross."

"That's what I thought, but she said it tasted minty, so..."

"How long has she been acting strange then?" Sharon peered over Kathy shoulder to take another look at Dawn. I hope she's not a ghoul or something.

"A few hours. She's been..."

Kathy touched Perri on the shoulder and hesitantly changed the subject. "I don't want to just leave her like this, but I think Ruth and I should catch up with the other Die-Hards. Now that Ruth's back, we have to have a meeting. Dawn looks like she won't be doing any organizing for awhile..." She gave a helpless shrug and pulled Ruth off in the direction of the bar.

Perri watched them go, resigned to the fate of babysitter.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Ruth asked.

"Probably. The Knighties and Nat-Packers have a lot more members at the party than we do. They'll be able to protect her from LaCroix. The Die-Hards have to talk though, and you have to explain what you really meant in all that poetry..."

Back in the Corner

"... she's been sneaking off all night. I don't know what she's been up to and I'm not sure I want to know. Apparently she attacked LaCroix a few minutes ago." Perri was trying to explain.

"LaCroix? But that's suicidal! Attacking Cousins is dangerous, but LaCroix..." Sharon looked worried, but curiosity was definitely a prerequisite for being a NatPacker, so she couldn't help asking. "What'd she do?"

"She, uh, said she dumped a bucket a grape juice all over him and then waited around while he was changing to see what kind of underwear he had on."

"Oooh boy. That's a biggie. I'm surprised he didn't munch on her right then and there."

"I'm surprised she had the few braincells necessary to figure out that she'd need to hide."

They were worried, but in an almost uncanny unison, they turned to Dawn at the same time and asked. "So what was he wearing?"

Dawn merely looked back at them furiously. "If you think I'm going to tell anyone who'd drag me off and force me to sit here while there's a party going on... I'm not saying."

"What do you mean you're not saying?" Perri wheedled.

"You obviously didn't want to know a few minutes ago, so you don't need to know now!" Dawn tried to cross her arms across her chest but was frustrated by the bindings. She was seriously annoyed. Try to liven up a party a bit and see where it gets you! Seeing the lack of attention they were paying to her anger she decided to get a bit more vocal...

"A HUNDRED BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, A HUNDRED BOTTLES OF BEER... YOU TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT AROUND, A HUNDR... mph hmrph!!"

Perri shoved the bandanna back into her mouth.

"I think we better get her someplace out of the way. Got any ideas? I was hoping Natalie could take a look at her. Or at least if we got her in a quiet place she might be able to dry up. If LaCroix manages to find out who did it... She'll need serious protection."

Sharon thought a minute, then "We might be able to take her up to the Cannibal Cafe. Most of the action seems to be down here so it shoud be fairly empty."

They had each grabbed an arm and started to haul her towards the stairs when Linda came running up to Sharon.

"You've got to come quick! Selma's been attacked and she's out cold!" She was almost breathless with agitation but managed to squeak out "It looks as if she was bitten!"

Perri and Sharon groaned, again in unison. It was going to be a *long* night.

A few minutes later

"I think I should just hit her over the head. Maybe she'd be more cooperative." The comment was directed at Sharon, but was meant for Dawn to overhear.

Dawn became slightly more cooperative.

Sharon and Perri both had their hands full. Perri was busy trying to get Dawn forcibly up the stairs while Sharon had her arms full getting an unconscious Selma.

At least Selma wasn't struggling.

They finally reached te Cannibal Cafe and hesitantly knocked on the door. A minute later Ron the Enforcer opened it.

"This is a private room." Since Sharon didn't have to struggle, she opened up the explanations. "We need a place away from the main party to keep these two."

"Hmm. I recognize the bound one. She was here earlier. I'm not surprised she's tied up." He glanced back into the room at Susan. "Come in, but don't bother Susan."

They swept into the room (okay...they moved awkwardly into the room) and took over one af the tables a ways from Ron and Susan.

Susan stared at them for a moment but then went back to examining her new clothes.

Sharon stopped and gaped at Susan for a second, then took a step toward her, her grip slackening on Selma as she did so. She caught herself, but almost too late as Selma flopped limply backwards and nearly hit the floor. With a sigh, Sharon glanced back one last time at Susan who seemed to be ignoring her, then dragged Selma into the far corner behind Perri.

Sharon carefully arranged Selma on the floor while Perri retied Dawn to one of the chairs. "Perri? I think I should go downstairs and see if I can get some help for Selma. Can you watch over these two?" She gave a worried glance at Susan.

"I guess so..." Perri didn't sound too overwhelmed at the opportunity, but all Sharon wanted to hear was the affirmative reply so she swept (really swept this time) out of the room.

Perri took a seat. She watched over her two "babies" and then proceded to start a long rambling story on ow she always gets stuck babysitting. She started off with a monologue of some football player that she had to escort to the hospital...

At the bottom of the stairs Sharon frantically scanned the room, hoping that Natalie was finally out of the meeting. The room was crowded and noisy and Sharon didn't spot Natalie at all. She even tried to follow the gazes of several males in the room but they were all looking in different directions. Which meant that Natalie definitely wasn't in the room.

Spotting Elizabeth, Sharon motioned for her to come over.

"What now? How's Selma? And who was that other woman?"

"Selma's still unconscious, and Dawn . . . well, Dawn's still a little tied up at the moment." She turned when the bartender approached her and ordered two large glasses of orange juice. "Listen, do me a favor, will you? When Nat gets out of that meeting, come and get me immediately. I'll be upstairs."

"No problem," Elizabeth agreed, nodding.

Sharon grabbed the two glasses and dashed (really dashed) up the stairs. If Ron would let her, she wanted to talk to Susan. It had been days since both she and Laurie had left her stranded in Maryland and she wanted to find out what was going on, about why she was here when Dorian was wandering about, why she was dressed like that, and most importantly, why she had for the most part simply ignored them a few minutes ago.

Tara was deep in thought. Since Janette had charged her with meeting out a suitable punishment for the size of the Ripper (considering the Ravens were the largest group, it had been particularly uncomfortable in the smallest pub), she had been wracking her brain trying to think of something clever, fitting, and fast.

Feeling just a little guilty (after all, as a rule the NatPackers don't attack, hence revenge seemed a bit harsh) LJC squelched as much of her conscience as she could as she took stock of her situation. Standing with her back against the wall of the tunnel, noise from all three pubs mingling and echoing around her, she decided to settle for two out of three.

Fast it was, then.

First, there was the matter of the suitcases propped rather conspiciously against the wall in the J&H. That would be simple. Next was Valerie her- self. She must be made to feel just as uncomfortable as the Ravens, and in the volumous satin outfit, that too should be simple.

Ducking into the J&H, Tara prayed for invisibility as she peered through the semi-darkness, pleased to note Amy and Jennie were over by the bar, admiring Nat's outfit, and Valerie was heading for the ladies room. Falling in behind her a few steps, Tara waited until she had stepped inside, and tiptoeing in, slipped a chair under the doornob, and reached for the light switch.

"Hey!" Valerie cried out as the room was pitched into darkness. She reached for the stall door, but it wouldn't budge. Starting to mutter and swear, she was taken aback completely as about a bucket of warm water poured down on her from above, and as she shook with anger and sudden chills, there was a flash of light, and thens he was back in darkness, the sound of the door slamming echoing in her ears.

Outside, LJC hung a "Out of Order" sign that had been stored beneath the sink over the sign on the door, and pulled the masking tape between the door out, hearing the satisfying click as the door locked from the inside. Until Val could get the chair wedged against the stall door pushed away, and unlok the room from the inside, the door couldn't be opened fromt he outside, and no-one would be able to hear her yells above the music.

The uncomfortable part completed, LJC then quickly located Val's suitcase with all her nice warm, clean clothes, and inching along the wall to the front door, slipped out into the chilly New York night to hand the suitcase off to Angel at the door of the Ripper, who secured it in the upstairs office. Smiling the two Ravens went back downstairs to see how the rest of the evening unfolded, Tara's eyes dancing in anticipation of reporting to Janette everything was taken care of, all the odds and ends wrapped up.

"Wow, Nat looks *great*," Jennie enthused as Nat walked away.

"Yeah, she does; it's a great color, and she should do her hair and wear makeup like that more often!" Amy agreed. "I hope she didn't get offended or uncomfortable when I first met her. I mean, 'What are you wearing?' was just my instinctive response--she looked great, but I *never* expected to see her wearing something like that; it's just not something I'd think she'd agree to."

"And she didn't," Valerie observed.

"True," Amy and Jennie chorused, then glanced at each other, smiling over the stereo effect.

"I'm going to make a bathroom run, guys," Valerie said.

Amy and Jennie watched Valerie walk away and then sat quietly sipping their drinks for a moment.

"Go, go, Power Rangers," Jennie began to sing quietly.

"Don't!" Amy pleaded. "I *hate* that song; it's bad enough that it's playing on a continuous loop with the other bad songs, but *please* don't join in. I don't think I can handle that right now."

"Sorry," Jennie said contritely, surprised at the strength of Amy's reaction, "it's the repetition, I don't think I'll get that song out of my head for weeks now!"

"You know, it's weird, too," Amy added. "I could deal with Power Rangers if it weren't for that music. I can even handle the worse-than-Doctor-Who-effects, but that music just irritates me too badly for words."

"I can see that."

"I wish we could shut this system off." Amy said, looking around as if an off switch might present itself if she were vigilant enough.

"Well," Jennie began conspiratorially, "we could try to MacGyverise it off; I do have my Swiss Army Knife along."

"Yeah, *and* the entire contents of my purse."

"Yeah! Here, give me that," Jennie said, reaching for the purse. "Let's see what you've got and what we can use."

"Well, I've got a nail file, nail clippers, paper clips, safety pins...." Amy continued the list for some time as they emptied the contents of her large and ugly black purse on the bar and rooted through for useful equipment for sabotaging electronics.

Noting the high volume of useful stuff, Jennie stuffed it all back in the bag and began to walk to where she had left her purse with the luggage; they hadn't been very worried about theft because although this *was* New York City, it was also a small pub being guarded largely by Knighties--the helpful type who would stop a thief, and NatPackers--the type who would help confront a scary person and get help from the Knighties to apprehend the offender. Amy followed Jennie a few steps, the touched Jennie's arm.

"Valerie's been gone for quite a while now. Do you think you can handle the MacGyverising alone?"

Jennie nodded.

"Okay, then I'm going to go see if Valerie's fallen in or something." Amy grinned and headed toward the restrooms.

Jennie shooed some Jeckyl & Hyde patrons off the luggage--it had been rapidly converted into extra furniture some hours before--and found her own purse sandwiched between two suitcases. As she hauled it out of the heap, she realized something looked odd. It took her fully two minutes of staring to realize that the pile had decreased in size. Jennie took quick inventory and determined that Valerie's suitcase seemed to be the one missing. No one, not even the folks sitting on the suitcases, seemed to have seen it leave.

"Well, it didn't just get up and walk away on its own!" Jennie declared in frustration.

"You never know, do you?" one of the patrons asked with a supremely innocent look.

Jennie just shook her head. They would have to deal with the pub having lost the luggage later. Still,Jennie thought absently, it's probably still in the area, so this *is* better than the airlines losing the suitcase or sending it to Transylvania or something. Shaking her head quickly, Jennie began to evaluate the layout of the room and guess where the controls to the sound system might be located.

"Valerie?" Amy called. Valerie didn't seem to be find-able *any*where. Amy had tried the bathroom, but it said 'Out of Order,' and she didn't really think that Valerie would have struck off on a campaign against another faction without at least letting someone know where she was going. "Valllllll-erie!"

The fruitless search was soon aided by sudden silence falling in the rest of the pub; the sound system had stopped playing the Power Rangers theme. "Thank you, Jennie," Amy breathed. It was a full minute later that Amy simultaneously processed that there was no other music playing either and that she was hearing a voice from the direction of the bathroom. She turned to see Valerie emerging from the room. Valerie's dress was wet all over and hung in a strange formation about the still-stiff crinolines. Her hair was drenched and plastered to her head, neck, and face, and her eyeliner was dripping down her cheeks.

"Valerie??" Amy asked. "What happened to you??!??"

"Someone locked me in and poured water over my head."

Amy began to giggle. Valerie just glared at her until Amy gasped out, "I'd have thought that after the last time you got water thrown on you in costume you wouldn't wear that kind of eyeliner anymore...."

Valerie grinned and headed back into the bathroom to check herself out in the mirror. When she saw her reflection, she laughed too.

"Let's go get you dry clothes," Amy suggested. As they headed for the main section of the pub she asked, "Do you know who locked you in?"

"Not a clue. I don't even know which faction would want me."

Jennie was waiting for the pair when they entered the main room, wearing a wry expression. She handed Amy her purse. "This came in handy. Thanks. I used several of the paper clips and I took your wallet apart, but everything else is intact. I'm out a pair of copper earrings, though. The sound system isn't gonna do that song anymore, but we have a problem.... What *happened* to you???" she interrupted herself as she finally noticed Valerie.

"Bucket of water. Could have been worse--could have been ice water; this was at least a little warm." Valerie shrugged. "I'll just grab clothes and change.

"Uh, that's the problem," Jennie replied. "Your suitcase has vanished."

"What do you mean--vanished?" Amy asked.

"I mean it's not with the rest of our luggage. I think someone took it. Any idea who, Valerie?"

"No. I was just telling Amy I don't even know who got me with the water. I suspect it's the same person, though."

"Well, let's get you some dry clothes anyway," Amy said, quickly crossing the room and plunking herself gracelessly on the floor in front of her suitcase. She rooted through the clothes and extracted her list shirt, ready with it's safety pin in the "NatPack" box, and a red, heavy slip that had never been finished and had an adjustable elastic waist. "Let's get you changed."

The three went to the restrooms together so they could keep guard and prevent further attacks. Valerie changed fairly quickly and looked her regular self in the over-sized t-shirt. "This is kind of cold," she commented as a draft blew through the hallway.

"And that's all I have since I left my big white sweater at school Friday," Amy apologized.

They went back to the main room and stuffed the damp dress in the suitcase, returning the bag to the person who had taken it up as a perch. Almost immediately, they attracted Nat's attention.

"Valerie, you changed...you're *wet*." Nat commented.

"Yeah. A prank. I don't know who did it."

"What's on the back of your shirt?" Nat asked; she had seen Valerie's back for a moment before she spoke.

Valerie turned around, "Affiliations. This has yours checked off."

"NatPack?" Nat giggled. "That sounds so silly...."

"But it's so descriptive!"

Amy's eyes widened as she noticed Janette entering the Jeckyll & Hyde. "Uh, we gotta go." She nudged Jennie's elbow and pointed.

"Oh, yeah, and you probably need to go greet the recent arrivals," Jennie told Nat, who looked suspicious but went to head them off anyhow. Jennie turned back to the other two. "So, should we go look for Valerie's suitcase?"

"It's payback time." Valerie looked like she was going to enjoy this.

Nick opened the door to the Jekyll and Hyde for Susan and followed her inside. Quite a few people were already milling about in various, mostly formal outfits. He scanned the room for Ron, but the vampire was not in sight. He did notice Sandra Gray sitting alone at a table and saw that she had noticed him as well as she got up and started in his direction. Damn! He didn't want to deal with her right now.

"C'mon, let's go upstairs," Nick whispered into Susan Garrett's ear and hustled her over to the stairs. He looked back to see that Sandra was following him, although she'd been delayed by a few people who'd gotten to the stairs before her.

The Cannibal Room, decorated in an appropriately jungle motif, was darker and quieter than the downstairs. There were several secluded tables there and Ron the Enforcer was also walking around the room, apparently checking it out. They'd agreed before leaving his apartment that the Cannibal Room was probably a good place to stash Susan while trying to come up with some way to deal with Dorian. Of course Ron didn't know that Nick had already taken care of the danger to Susan from the Interview.

He walked over to Ron with Susan on his arm and said, "So how's it look?"

"The Jekyll looks clear. There *is* supposed to be a truce going on, you know."

Nick led Susan to a secluded table in the back of the room and said, "Susan, I want you to sit down and stay here. I'll be back in a while." He helped her remove her coat and she obediently sat down at the small table. Then he turned to Ron and said, "I'm going to check to see if Dorian's here yet. Stay with her."

"No problemo," said Ron.

"I want to make sure Nat's not here, too, so I might be a while."

"Don't sweat it," said Ron. "But if you need help, just yell."

Nick smiled. "Yeah." Then he turned away from Susan's table to go back downstairs.

Sandra Gray was standing a few feet away, an expression of hesitancy and concern on her face. Nick took a deep breath and approached her. He put a slight smile on his face. "Sandra. I see you made it. You look nice."

She blushed deeply, but her eyes travelled by him to where Susan sat at her table. Then she looked at him and said, "Nick, why did you bring Susan here? I thought the idea was to keep her away from Dorian."

Nick became serious and taking her by the elbow, leaned close to say in a low tone, "Don't worry. Susan won't come to any harm."

"Not as long as I'm here to guard her," said Ron, joining them. Nick looked at the Enforcer.

"Sandra, this is...Ron Katz. Ron, Sandra Gray."

"Charmed, my lady." Sandra eyed the other vampire a bit warily, mumbled a hi in return, and then looked again at Nick.

"Ron's going to stay with Susan while I go try to find Dorian." He started off, but she followed him.

"And do what?" she asked.

Nick paused to look at her. "Ron and I will handle Dorian. Have you seen him?"

"I don't think so. But I don't know what he looks like."

"What about Nat? Have you seen her?" asked Nick, moving forward again.

"Yeah, she's here."

"Damn!" Nick muttered. Then he glanced at Sandra and said, "Sorry. I was hoping she'd stayed away. I didn't notice her when I came in." He had reached the stairs and started down them. Sandra followed him.

"Well, there's quite a few of us here. Can we help with anything?"

"No. And try to stay out of the way of any vampires." He had reached the ground floor and suddenly realized what that last comment had sounded like. Sighing, he turned to Sandra and said, "Sorry. I...do appreciate you being here and if there's anything you all can do to help, I'll let you know." Sandra smiled hesitantly. Nick looked away and at the crowd in the lower area, "Right now I need to find Nat..."

His eyes swept over the people in the room. He saw Sandra's husband looking in his direction, a serious expression on his face for a moment before he turned and walked away. Then he spied Nat walking out of the back area of the club with some other women, clad in a dress that... He totally forgot about Sandra Gray and walked over to Natalie. She saw him approaching and her companions moved away when they saw him.

Natalie had her hair up and in curls down one side of her face. She looked a bit uncomfortable, but tried to smile. "Nick," she said, a bit breathlessly. Her heart was pounding rapidly. Nick looked at the red velvet dress, his eyes travelling down the sheer black V with the cleavage it revealed to the high slit in the skirt that revealed a *lot* of Nat's leg. Natalie added, "This dress wasn't my idea. It was Janette..."

"You look...lovely," said Nick, swallowing. His eyes travelled back to her face, the only normal looking part of her. But she *did* look lovely--he had not imagined she could look so...enticing... He suddenly was thirsty.

He had to get his mind out of the thoughts it was drifting into. His mind registered what she had just said. "Janette? Janette got you this?" Natalie nodded. Nick became irritated at the idea that Janette had--well, Janette *did* dress well, but--"What are you doing here?" he asked in a low, and not pleased, tone. "I asked you not to come."

Nat bristled some. "You don't own me," she said.

Nick sighed in frustration. "Damn it, Nat!" he said, but not very loud. "I can't believe you let Janette talk you into helping with this. Especially when...Dorian's supposed to be here. And you...in that--"

"You just said I looked lovely," said Nat.

"You do!" said Nick. He eyed the dress again, then wished he hadn't. "You do, but--" He looked back at her face. "I don't like it that others... of us...are going to see you like this."

Nat's face took on a disgusted look and she turned on her heel and stalked away. Nick put a hand to his forehead and looked up at the ceiling in frustration. Then he walked off after her.

I watched Nick approach Natalie. Gee, where had she gotten the gorgeous dress? I moved forward a little to try to get a better view. Natalie seemed embarrassed, then looked angry. She turned on her heel (a bit unsteadily) and stalked away from Nick. After a moment Nick strode off after her.

He caught up with her. Then suddenly Janette was there. I frowned, wondering what she wanted here. To complain about the Knighties?

I wondered whether I should try to get closer and see if I could hear what they were talking about. Some people passed in front of me and when I could see them again, Nick was looking at Natalie. Funny, but his eyes looked... Janette looked at Nick and he dropped his head, his hands going to his eyes. But soon he dropped his hands and walked over to the bar. Before long the bartender set a glass of blood before him, which he downed in one gulp. Then he motioned for another. He drank the second drink a little slower, then walked back to Janette and Natalie. The three of them headed for the back of the club.

Was it something to do with Susan? I looked back to the stairs, wondering whether I should go back up and try to speak to Ron the Enforcer and Susan. I really wanted to talk to Susan--tell her how much I'd enjoyed her stories. Maybe I could find out why Nick and Ron had brought her here.

A black woman was ascending the stairs with a large garment bag. She looked familiar. Then I remembered her--Jennise, LaCroix's scriptwriter in the summer war.

What was she doing here? And why was she going upstairs?

Susan! She was here to try to get Susan!

I moved toward the stairs warily and started up them. I unzipped my handbag so I could easily get at the protections I had there (just in case). Although surely the Enforcer would be able to handle the younger vampires.

When I entered the Cannibal Cafe, it was to see the Enforcer in conversation with Jennise and two other women, one of whom had another garment bag. Then they approached Susan and she rose from her seat.

What was the meaning of this? Was Ron the Enforcer really an enemy instead of a friend?

The Enforcer turned and looked at me. And in the blink of an eye, he was beside me. "Relax, Sandra. They're only here to dress Susan for the Interview."

"But I thought you were supposed to be protecting her from Dorian," I said, watching as Jennise and her companions took Susan into the bathroom. My hand closed around the teakwood knife in my purse.

"We are. Nick's--taken care of Susan and I've--refined a bit on it. Don't try it." I looked at him. You can't possibly get that knife out fast enough." He paused, then smiled and said, "Trust me. I'm on *your* side--or should I say *Nick's* side in this. I won't let Dorian harm Susan."

I wondered whether to trust what he said. "Look, if you're concerned, stick around and watch. You'll see. No one's leaving here until Nick returns. But Susan will be 'dressed to kill' for her Interview." He grinned.

I looked toward the bathroom door. "Do you mind if I--"

"I don't. They might."

I stepped carefully away from the Enforcer and walked over to the bathroom door. I took a breath and opened it. "Um, you might want to try the downstairs bathroom," said Jennise. "We're trying to get dressed here."

It *was* cramped in there, what with four women amid what looked like a profusion of silk. I nodded and shut the door again.

"Join me for a drink?" came the Enforcer's voice behind me. I was startled by his silent and quick movement to my side.

We were of a similar height--almost eye to eye. He wore tinted aviator glasses and his eyes...looked a bit odd somehow. I looked away from them and at his attire. He was dressed in leather; his pants particularly snug. I quickly looked back at his face. "Sure," I said.

He took me by the elbow and lead me over to a booth seat. A glass of red liquid sat on the table. He motioned to a waiter and ordered two beers.

After the waiter left, Ron said, "What can I say to convince you I'm on your side?"

"I have no idea why you are--if you are."

Ron picked up his glass of--blood--and looked at it. His eyes took on a touch of gold. "I've got a score to settle with the Archivist," he said grimly. Then he took a drink.

The action was both arousing and repulsive. I shivered and looked away.

If he was being honest with me, I didn't have anything to worry about. If not...well, I hoped I hadn't wandered into a very BAD situation.

She'd considered going to get LaCroix before Nicola and Natalie, but realized that leaving LaCroix and Dorian in such a small room and unattended for even two minutes was simply asking for trouble . . . and there'd be enough of that later. So Janette headed up the steps and into the Jekyll and Hyde for the second time that evening.

When she reached the top of the steps and pushed the bookcase back into place, she again realized just how unfair the distribution had been. She had the most followers and they were stuck in the smallest of clubs. It was the only one with a dance floor, but still . . . .

She waded her way through the crowd, smiling to see her visiting Ravens and Ravenettes shining in their splendor. The Knighties and NatPackers were making an attempt but, well, one was either fashionable or one was not. Some attempts were better than others, of course.

Spotting Natalie, she hurried over to her, her smile fading. "What happened to your make-up?" she asked in distress, reaching forward to touch Natalie's face. "Angel is so much better than that--there's barely any there!"

"If you're talking about the stuff she troweled onto me, it's in the bathroom sink," replied Natalie sharply, backing away. "Look, maybe this wasn't such a great idea. I'm getting my people and--"

"Nat? Wait--!"

They both looked up at the sound of Nicola's voice. He barreled through the crowd, somehow managing to apologize for stepping on and over people. "Nat, I--" Then his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Janette. "Did you plan this?" he asked, gesturing at Natalie, but seeming to avert his gaze from her. "Because I don't think it's funny in the--"

"Funny?" Janette placed her hand on Natalie's shoulder proprietarily. "Your manners, Nicola! I think it's quite effective--well, it loses something without the makeup, but still, she does have some raw material to work with."

Slipping out from beneath Janette's hand, Natalie muttered, "I'm gone!" and pushed past Nick, heading for the door.

"Not dressed like that, you're not." Nick clamped his hand down on Natalie's forearm and drew her back to him. "This is New York, not Toronto. This time of night, God knows what would happen to you--"

"Well, I know exactly what's going to happen to you if you don't let go of me," threatened Natalie, as she failed to dislodge his hand from her arm. "These heels are lethal in the right hands. And even if it doesn't kill you, it will hurt like hell for--"

"You can finish that later," declared Janette, pushing between them and freeing Natalie. "It's time for the meeting."

Nicola stared at her. "What meeting?"

Janette turned toward Natalie, who growled, "I wanted to tell him, but he started fixating about this dress. And then I couldn't get a word in edge-wise."

"Then let me explain," hissed Janette. Grabbing Nicola's arm, she drew him to one side of the club and out of the traffic flow.

He glared at her, then switched positions, pinning her against the wall, his hand on her shoulder. "You had no right to--"

"Nicola--can it!" When he stopped, stunned, blue eyes wide, she grabbed his shirtfront in her hand. "There's a meeting downstairs. I will be there, you will be there, Natalie will be there, LaCroix will be there . . . and Dorian will be there."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Why the meeting? Or why Dorian--?" She released him and waved her hand. "Never mind. We have to discuss a problem that's developed with our followers. These people," she waved around the club, "are in danger because they support us, believe in us."

His petulant frown disappeared, replaced by concern as he glanced to the left, then to the right. "In danger from who? LaCroix? Dorian?"

"Dorian, to some extent--which is why he's here. I think he'll see reason once he understands that he has followers, too." Nicola's eyes widened in surprise and she shook her head. "Oh, come, Nicola--if LaCroix can have followers, certainly Dorian must have a few as well? They are only mortals after all and so easily fooled. LaCroix will protect his own, just as we will."

"Then . . . who?" He took a breath and looked down at the floor. "Janette, if this is some sort of scheme to get us here--"

She slapped him lightly on the chest. "This is serious. And I resent your accusation. Your Natalie is concerned for her people, just as I'm concerned for my own. If you don't care, fine. Stay here. We'll handle it--"

She moved to push past him, but Nicola caught her arm, stopping her. "Wait," he said softly in her ear. "I'm sorry. I . . . I believe you. But I find it hard to accept you're that concerned about protecting your people when you left Susan defenseless against Dorian. You didn't even try to help her."

"I knew she'd be safer if I did nothing." Janette swallowed and wouldn't look at him--he'd only be angry if she explained that she'd set the Archivist on Susan to bring Dorian to the meeting. "I think he may change his mind about what he wants from her, once we've met. And his assistants wouldn't let her come to any harm until the interview started. They wouldn't dare. She's safe enough in their hands."

"I have her."

She looked back at him quickly, not quite believing until she saw his smile. "You . . . fool," Janette said softly. "Do you want to get her killed?"

"I promised that I'd protect her."

Janette raised her hand to her forehead and looked down at the floor, shielding her eyes. "Never mind--we'll deal with this later. Nicola, whatever this costs me with her, you will pay for it, I assure you."

"If you'd taken care of her in the first place--" He cleared his throat and looked away, then his gaze rested on Natalie. "And what about Nat? That dress--"

"Is quite stunning. And if you don't tell her so and quickly, you're an even bigger fool."

She leaned against his shoulder as he watched Natalie. "Admit it, Nicola--she does look stunning."

"She does," he said softly, after a long pause. "She looks . . . ."

His voice was hoarse, strange. Janette looked up at his face and frowned. "Nicola, your eyes?"

He dropped his head to his chest quickly and shaded his eyes with his hands.

"You haven't fed!" Janette accused him, pushing him back against the wall. "You knew there'd be mortals here and still you didn't feed?"

"I didn't think it would be so hard--" He shook his head and flinched away from her, as if he'd been struck.

"Never mind. Go to the bar--your eyes are fine now, drop your hands--and order the house specialty." Then she sighed, as Nicola met her gaze. "Tell them who you are. I've got bottles on hand for you. There's more at the meeting, but you should get a stiff drink under your belt before we go down there. You'll be dealing with LaCroix, after all. And Dorian."

"I don't want Nat there," he said sharply. "I'll go, but only if Nat stays here."

"That you discuss with Natalie, not me," countered Janette. "Although she has every right to be there. She wants to protect her 'friends.' And if you force her out of this--she may not wear high heels often, Nicola, but from her tone of voice I should think that she'll be more than ready to use them and every other weapon she possesses to hold her place in this. If I were you--" she tapped his chest lightly, "I would let her play. Besides, you'll be there. You can keep on eye on her. And Dorian."

Nicola glanced at Natalie again, then turned his gaze quickly to Janette. "All right," he relented, his voice taut. "But you and I will have a long talk about that dress, later."

She smiled. "I'll look forward to it. Now, go feed and quickly. I've got one of my own amusing Dorian and he won't want to wait long."

After Janette pushed him off to the bar, she approached Natalie, who been examining one of the plaques on the wall. Natalie turned, then looked around quickly. "Nick?"

"I sent him to the bar. The fool hasn't fed yet and I thought he needed a quick one before we got down to business." She adjusted the neckline of Natalie's dress, letting the black netting reveal just a bit more cleavage. "He's still having difficulties with your dress, although we'll sort that out later. A few drinks will help."

"I knew it." Frowning, Natalie pointedly readjusted the dress, covering up Janette's revelations. "He hates it."

"The reverse, actually." Janette leaned closer and whispered, "I think you're--how should I put this?--'turning him on'?"

Natalie cleared her throat loudly and took a step away from Janette. She pushed back the hair that hung down to one side of her face, a nervous movement. "Uh--what about the meeting?"

"As soon as Nicola joins us, we'll get LaCroix and then we'll begin the meeting."

"And Nick didn't try to make you exclude me?"

"With Dorian there? Of course he did." Janette smiled and lowered her eyelids slightly. "I simply made him see the error of his ways. And warned him that you'd be very unhappy if he tried anything that foolish."

"Thank you," answered Natalie, after a sigh. "I'm not--I'm not certain I should even be there."

"Of course you should!" Janette straightened regally. "We girls must stick together. Besides, we have to watch out for our own, don't we? And . . . I should warn you that there's apt to be some trouble later, between yours and mine. Nothing serious, just high spirits, I would think--Nicola are you ready yet?"

Her words ran together quickly as Natalie begun to frown at her warning. But Nicola's arrival saved her. There was a sparkle in his eyes and a bit more color to his face as he approached them. "Don't complain," he said lightly, taking Nat's hand. "I've waited long enough for you in the past."

Janette raised an eyebrow and turned away, muttering, "Not half as often as I've waited for you," just loud enough for him to hear and mortal ears to miss. She pushed the release lever on the bookcase and stood to one side, Nick giving her an annoyed look as he escorted Natalie into the tunnels.

After the door closed behind the three of them, Janette hurried down the steps. When she turned, she saw Natalie shiver and heard her say, "God, don't these people have heat down here? It's freezing."

Almost instantly, Nick slipped his long black coat from his shoulders, saying, "Here. Try this."

Janette gave her the barest nod of acknowledgment as Natalie slipped her arms into the coat--it was an elegant solution that would protect her from both Nicola's and Dorian's interest. Of course, she had no way of knowing that the center room was very warm and that she'd probably have to remove the coat at some time or she'd drown in her own sweat . . . .

"Wait for me at the end of this tunnel," cautioned Janette as she headed away, as fast as her heels could carry her. "I'll only be a moment. I have to fetch LaCroix--"

The steps down from The Slaughtered Lamb were large and made of marble, with an ornately carved balustrade on either side. Janette was impressed.

Almost as impressed by the fact that LaCroix was waiting for her, sitting on one of stone seats carved into the staircase and speaking in very quiet but severe tones with one of his followers--that young man who'd been turned into a vampire during the last war. John, wasn't it?

But she was noticed almost immediately. LaCroix looked down the steps and into the darkness of the tunnel, no doubt seeing her quite clearly. "That will be all for now," he said to the young vampire, his gaze still fixed on her as she waited just out of sight. "You'll follow my instructions to the letter?"

"Of course," answered John. "And I can't apologize enough for--"

"We'll discuss it later." LaCroix's imperious wave and his tone of voice sent a shiver down even Janette's back . . . and she was used to them. It was no small wonder John paled and hurried back into The Lamb, easily opening the heavy stone door and slipping past it, into the club.

Janette stepped forward, then hesitated at the base of the steps. "Are you ready?"

"I've been waiting. You're late." LaCroix took his time as he descended the steps, his eyes on her. "So, your plan worked?"

"I've gotten everyone here, haven't I?"

"Quite an accomplishment. Especially Dorian." He paused at the base of the steps and rested his hand on the griffin carved at the end of the balustrade, towering above her. "And this interview nonsense? You'll put an end to that, surely?"

Janette paused, smelling a faint residue of garlic coming from LaCroix? She was about to ask, then stopped herself as she saw him raise an eyebrow, warning her off that topic. Instead, she turned her back to The Lamb and looked back at the tunnel. "That's Dorian's affair."

"Is it?" LaCroix walked down the last two steps and stood beside her. Taking her arm over his own, he led her toward the tunnel. "I thought she was one of yours."

"She is."

"And you aren't going to protect her?"

Janette shrugged slightly. "She'll be safe enough."

"Because I've managed to protect her."

Janette looked at him quickly. "Nicola has her now."

"Nicholas has her because I allowed him to have her. Dorian's assistants are working for me." He smiled as she turned her gaze to the tunnels ahead. "You aren't the only one with plans, Janette. Remember that. And also remember that my plans will always take precedence over yours."

Janette swallowed, but wouldn't look at him. "We have other concerns. The meeting--"

"Yes. The meeting. To discuss how we might protect what we've built." LaCroix stopped, then moved toward the wall, herding her toward it until she was pinned against the stone. He leaned his hand against it, staring down at her. "Because we have built our own little empires, haven't we? And we don't want to see them crumble. So let's save them, by all means."

She managed a slight smile. "So, we're in agreement?"

"On that much." LaCroix examined the fingernails of his other hand. "Do you remember the last time, in the amusement park? One of yours had abandoned you, come to me for protection. You asked me not to hold her, to let her do as she would, if she wanted to return."

"Monica. Yes. She . . . she came back," said Janette slowly. "You did promise to let her return."

"Yes, I did." He adjusted the collar of his shirt, then smiled. "Don't you think you might owe me something, or someone, in return?" Before she could say anything, LaCroix touched a finger to her lips and said, "Sssh, softly, Janette. As you said, we can discuss this later. You don't want to keep Dorian waiting, do you? You know how he hates to be kept waiting."

She let her eyes blaze just a little as he removed the finger he'd held to her lips, but then she allowed him to take her arm again.

They met Nicola and Natalie at the end of their tunnel. Nicola eyed her with concern, no doubt having heard at least part of her conversation with LaCroix, but she ignored him.

"Nicholas--quite a nice suit," noted LaCroix, "a bit too staid for a party, but a nice attempt. And Natalie--that's a new hairstyle for you, isn't it? That dress is very becoming." LaCroix grinned at Janette. "I see your hand in this."

In answer, Natalie pulled Nicola's coat closed and Nicola stepped closer to her, his arm moving around her waist protectively. "It is a party, isn't it?" asked Natalie sharply. She sniffed and added, wide-eyed, "And is that a new aftershave? Or vampire repellent?"

Nicola smiled and quickly hurried Natalie past them. LaCroix seemed stunned for a moment, then looked down at Janette. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I like her. I really do like her."

Janette kept her expression carefully neutral as they followed Nicola and Natalie to the triangular room at the center of the tunnels. She left LaCroix and passed Nicola and Natalie, pausing at the doorway.

Dorian and Lorelei were still talking, although Dorian looked back at the doorway as soon as he finished his sentence. "I think our time is up," he told Lorelei, taking her hand. Moving behind her, he pulled the chair from the table after she rose, then walked with her toward the door. "I don't often get a chance to speak about such things. Thank you for the conversation."

"Maybe, we could talk later?" Lorelei asked hesitantly.

"I'm afraid I may be occupied . . . later." Dorian took her hand, raised it to his lips, then released her.

At that, Janette moved behind the girl and took her shoulders, guiding her out the door, past Nicola, Natalie and LaCroix. She saw Lorelei's eyes widen as she recognized each of them in turn, but Janette whisked her past them, down to the place where two of the room's walls met, then placed her against the wall, out of their sight. "It went well?" she asked.

Lorelei seemed somewhat stunned, dazed almost. "He was very nice. I can't believe what he knows--"

"Believe it. And also believe that no matter how charming he may be, Dorian is very, very dangerous." She touched Lorelei's shoulder. "You did well. I'm proud of you. Now run upstairs and tell Miklos that I'll need someone to stand by in case we need something. I think it's time you enjoyed yourself."

Lorelei nodded after a moment. "All right." Then she headed down the tunnel at a run.

By the time Janette had returned, LaCroix, Natalie, and Nicola had already entered the room. Since the table was round, no one had the prime position and the refrehments had been gathered at the center of the table. Nicola had placed his seat between Dorian and Natalie, leaving the other seat beside Natalie open for her.

Janette closed the door carefully, then threw the iron latch into place. She walked to her chair, which LaCroix gallantly held out for her, then seated herself with as much dignity as possible. "Well, then," she said, glancing around at them. "Shall we begin?"