Web hosting Custom Email SiteBuilder

Kings of the Nighttime World:

A Demon's KISS of Vampire Shadows

Started 7/27/00

by Theresa Meyers aka Trynia Merin

San Diego, Backstage at the KISS Concert:

"That was one hell of a concert, Mr. Simmons," said the tech, who he wasn't sure was trying to get into his good graces by a load of flattery, or really did think he was the moon and stars.

He felt a familiar pair of eyes set on him as Ace and his girl walked past. There was a begrudging respect in the sapphire pools, which were still wary of him. Snorting under his breath, he shook his head. That gal still unnerved him, and he couldn't blame her for not thinking much of him. Considering how she had all but shaken the lead guitarist up with her strange intrusion into their lives. Then had come the two other women who knocked the group on their virtual backsides with the strange occurrences that surrounded their appearances.

Not that he minded the company of one of them lately, who he glanced casually back and forth for among the techs bustling backstage. There she was, arguing with their manager Doc over some new effect that had gone ten shades more explosive then they had anticipated.

"You could have burned down the stage with that one," Doc muttered.

"Mr. Stanley said everything was quite in order," she shot back. "None caught fire..."

"That isn't the point..."

"You yourself said that KISS was all about fireworks, fireworks... fireworks," Menne bit her lip, standing her ground. Those dark eyes fixed into Doc's with a determined stare. For a woman of her height and build she could be downright intimidating.

"Hey Doc, can I borrow your antagonist for a minute," Gene asked, as he advanced on the two feuding staff. "I owe her a proper greeting..."

It was the last week of concerts, and everything had reached fever pitch. The encores mounted sufficiently to the height where one false move sent Doc into a paroxysm of nerves. Any more setbacks or anything that could amount to a setback was to be avoided at all costs. Even at the expense of the nerves of the many techs, roadies, and staffers that assisted KISS on the road.

"All right Gene. I'm talking to you later, Ms. Curie..."

"What's wrong?" Gene asked, casually leaning on Menne's shoulder with his elbow. She tensed visibly, but did not push him away. Clearly her anger was directed at Doc, not Gene.

"We were just... discussing the fireworks..." Menne muttered.

"Excuse us a moment..." Doc said, taking Gene aside out of earshot of Menne.

"Didn't you notice how dangerously close that last explosion was to the front row," Doc asked him.

Gene fingered through his hair, "Well were all still here to talk about it," he wisecracked. "We're not Michael Jackson with his little Pepsi incident. So why are you so pissed off?"

"With all due respect, you could have been playing to the great KISS army in the sky!" Doc shot back.

"Doc, give it a rest. I'm still here; Paul and the guys are still alive and breathing. The fans are going crazy, so who gives a crap how intense that blast was as long as nothing caught fire?" Gene shook his head. "Loosen the reins a bit, cowboy! You've been riding all our asses for way too long."

"I'm trying to do my job, Mr. Simmons. And that includes making sure your shows go off without a hitch... including possible hazards. This particular stadium is precariously close to..."

"Later Doc. I'll talk to her..." Gene said. "Leave this to me..."

"Just make sure she knows about fire codes next time..."

"Whatever. I'll take care of it. But don't ya think you're being a little hard on the chick lately?"

"I know Mr. Stanley said she was fully qualified, but she seems extremely confrontational lately..."

"No offense Doc, but you are too," Gene muttered. "Lay off her, and the others, and they'll lay off you..."

He glanced around to find Menne gone. Cursing under his breath, and shooting Doc an annoyed glance, he moved off to find her.

"What has he got against me?" Mennehotep grumbled angrily to Chuck, who had just wandered up with one or two of the other techs. She sat on an amp, the gray cloud over her head almost obvious to everyone.

"Don't take it personally. Doc's been frayed and strayed these last two weeks. Especially in light of that... situation."

"I know, but that doesn't mean we have to be the... sacrificial..."

"Hey, it stinks, but the tour's almost over! Just hang in there. Once it's over..." put in another tech, which was named Patty. She and Menne had come to be good friends over the course of the tour.

"Once this is over, what next?" Menne asked slowly, glancing up at all of them.

"Do you have jobs that you will return to, or keep working for KISS?"

"Depends," Patty said, glancing back to Chuck. "Probably go on working for the staffing company or something."

"You got something else lined up?" Chuck asked. "I'm probably going to end up on the tour with Phish..."

"Hmm," Menne muttered, glancing at both her friends. Was it back to the Sphinx after this? Back to her own mundane state that she called a life, which was probably anything but mundane compared to these two, who if they heard about what she did would either faint in shock or call her crazy.

"We were going out for the wrap party. Coming?" Patty asked her.

"Yes... in a few minutes maybe..." Menne said, with a small smile. The somber mood continued as Menne remained on the amp, watching her friends who parted company from her. Crews were packing things up, the third shift relieving the second. Her own work was done for the night, and she wondered how to spend it. Since it appeared that the guys in the band were already gone. Would Paul require company tonight, she wondered? Ever since the news of his niece in the hospital after being in a car crash arrived, he was withdrawn, concerned. She was like a daughter to him, and he hated to think of her hanging between life and death. Less and less he had sought her company.

Shivering, she pulled her leather jacket around her more securely, zipping it up a little more. Lightly she fingered the KISS army patch to the right breast, her fingers exploring the metal pins she had collected on the opposite side. Still she often wore the star spangled leggings Paul had given her so long ago it seemed, but this jacket was a present given fondly by the latest in a series of romantic conquests.

A low growl sounded in her ear as hot breath hit it. She responded with a answer in her throat as she felt fingers brushing her shoulders, and wiry hair tickling her cheek. Down on her leather jacketed back a strong large hand clamped, with the middle and ring fingers sheathed in a black glove with silver spikes. Beside her stood the Demon, still resplendent in full costume and black and white makeup.

"Wondered where you had wandered off to," Gene laughed. "What's with the disappearing act?"

"He's a real jerk, sometimes," she snapped. "That Doc person!"

"So am I, but you don't go disappearing into thin air whenever I show up," he rested a hand on his hip. "Or is something else eating you?"

Menne's booted feet bumped against the amp stack, "I just hate it when people in powerful positions treat others like crap, that's all. But as for my disappearance, I didn't think it polite to eavesdrop when you and your manager were speaking..."

"We were just talking about you, don't worry," Gene grinned. "All the little sordid details..."

"Oh that makes me feel so much better," she smirked. "Judging from his overall demeanor regarding me, it's little wonder he hasn't fired me..."

"I wouldn't go on about it like that. If he was really sick of you by now he would have let you go the first week," Gene shook his head. He moved around to the front, standing right before her, so close that her knees pressed against his chest. Gently he slipped hands under her knees, rubbing lightly at the sensitive backs. It made her squirm deliciously.

"Doc's under a lot of pressure. His bark's a hell of a lot worse then his bite."

"So is he angry at me or something?" Menne glanced down at Gene's hand, which slipped over to the top of her thighs, lightly stroking.

"Nah. More likely surprised you gave him hell back," Gene said, and she saw the sparkle in the dark eyes. "He'll get over it. Now are you over it, or do I have to drag your lovely ass to the encore myself?"

"I don't feel really like partying," Menne shrugged, and gave a small sad smile.

"Will you at least come down off your damned throne then, your majesty?" Gene asked folding his arms over his chest and backing a foot away from her. "And let this Demon give you a proper celebration welcome?"

"All right, you win, but I'm not necessarily going to a wrap party. Heavens only knows what stunts Ace is going to pull... the last time..."

Gene held out his arms to her, and caught her as she dropped off the stack. Effortlessly he held her up off the ground as if she were a small child. "You're terrible to me," she shook her head.

"Nobody but the best," he smirked, and before she could give another wise crack his mouth choked off her next comment. It was gentle at first, slowly pressing into delicious firmness. Still holding her off her feet Gene's arms wrapped around her back tightly, pressing her body close to his costumed one, while her arms settled around behind his neck. She still shivered at the sensation of that infamous tongue caressing hers, yet couldn't help suppress the thrill either of that delicious kiss. A low growl of pleasure vibrated into her throat as their heated kiss continued.

What was that gentle rocking sensation? They only broke the contact for a quick breath, her lips parted with a dizzy look on her face. Gene had begun to walk with her in his arms and all, in the direction offstage.

"What are you doing?" she squawked.

"Enough with the introspection, Queenie," he laughed, shifting her over his shoulder. "We've got a party to go to!"

"Gene you rotten sneak, put me down!" Menne laughed, as he gave a playful swat to her behind, and continued out towards the green room.

"Will you behave?" he asked, and she could tell he was probably eating this up.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she returned.

"No more talking shop, and no more bad moods. This is a night to party! And I'm in the mood for a little action, and you're just the gal to share it with me..."

"What's in it for me?" she laughed, hardly able to contain how silly this all seemed.

"You'll see soon enough, sweetheart..."

Balanced over his shoulder she caught site of Peter's snickering face as the Catman wandered from one side. He had probably been in his dressing room, and as usual on his arm was Nefertina in her little black dress and thigh high boots.

"Where'd you find that bundle of joy?" Peter wisecracked.

"I'm not telling," Gene laughed back.

"He's kidnapping me, Peter! Someone stop him before he really goes off the deep end," Menne called.

"Have fun you two!" Peter called.

"Wait... isn't the party that way?" Nefertina asked. Peter dug an elbow into her ribs as they saw Gene walking in a totally different direction.

She saw Ashake and Paul exchanging words over a glass of champagne. The Sidhe lady winked as Gene hauled Menne who was still complaining over one shoulder.

"Gene, you behave now," Paul said, stopping him for one minute. "Is this guy bothering you?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Menne shot back. "And why aren't you at the party, lover boy?"

"I'm having my own party right here," he said, slipping an arm around Elspeth's shoulders. She tapped a finger on his chest, and pinched Paul's painted cheek.

"Naughty boy. Seriously, have a good time you two."

"You want to join us?" Menne asked Paul for a moment.

"No, thanks. Knock yourselves out," Paul waved dismissively. Gene set Menne on her feet again, and they exchanged a questioning glance.

"Paul, are you sure?" Menne asked. Gene's arm tensed around her waist, pulling her along.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Casanova," Gene called to Paul, who was already waving to them. His eyes were firmly fixed onto the vision in front of him, struggling not to look at the voluminous chest, but the green gray eyes beneath the fall of chestnut hair. She wore her own version of the Star Child outfit, under a long black cloak. That face paint vanished with a flick of her wrist. She cast Menne a knowing wink, and a thumbs up.

"Damn lucky son of a bitch," Gene muttered half to himself.

"Any regrets?" Menne tugged his arm.

"Hell no. But she is sure easy on the eyes... damn!"

"Yes, she is," said Mennehotep, glancing up at Gene. "And she's married."

"Oh great, here we go again," Gene put a hand to his forehead.

"Come on, let's go to that blasted party," Menne tugged his arm.

"Now you're talking," Gene laughed, arm around her shoulders as they left Star Child and the guild guardian far behind them.

Back at the Hotel Wrap Party, 11 PM:

Menne wiped Gene's black greasepaint off her lips as she caught site of her reflection in the side of a beer keg. A whole round of the best brew had been provided, with sandwiches and a whole smorgasbord that rivaled the high feasts at Memphis. Even though the food was far different and less rich, its mere abundance hearkened to the royal banquets so long ago.

Tuthmosis threw many a gargantuan feast, the finest perhaps of his dynasty. The new pylons he had erected in his feasting hall rivaled those of her mother. She shoved back those visions into the past as she concentrated on the here and now. To one side, Ace had established himself on a comfortable couch with a diet coke at his elbow. Sohkarra sat next to him, quietly talking to the other half of the throng of people around them. She wore the black and gold outfit she had donned so many post wrap parties before.

"Still taking the royal treatment, isn't she, eh?" Gene whispered into Menne's ear. He handed her a plastic glass filled with foamy Miller genuine draft.

"I guess," Menne whispered back. "Some of us still carry ourselves that way no matter our surroundings."

"You can take the Queen out of the palace, but can't take the palace out of the queen?" Gene muttered, taking a measured mouthful of his Fresca. Not a single glass of alcoholic beverage would he consume, oddly enough.

"Mm hmm," Menne nodded. "She claims that she is down to earth, really..."

"Spaceman sure as hell looks happy," Gene whispered. "Probably getting some action... finally."

"Do you always make it your business to know your band mates sex lives?" Menne glanced up at him, lightly treading on one of those blasted dragon boots. He couldn't feel the blow, but noticed it all the same.

"Just like you chicks probably do," he countered. "We've got the locker room talk, and you've got the slumber party stuff..."

"Why does that never fail to amaze me?" she shot back, her mood still jovial despite her serious look. "There's always one thing to count on, you never stray from your purpose..."

"Being?"

"Sex, rock and roll, and women, women, women," Menne giggled.

"Hey, can you blame me? After all you are fifty percent of the population," Gene joked.

"So you say," Menne laughed, sipping another drought of beer. Roadies mumbled their congratulations and adoration as they scoped out the groupies, who had gathered around. Many wore Psycho Circus T-shirts, and facial makeup, and it didn't surprise her to see Gene keeping an eye out for the ladies. She couldn't help but rest her eyes on an attractive backside of a particular young gentleman here or there. Both of them enjoyed the view, free of any sort of guilt for looking yet not touching. Not for the first time she realized the simple pleasure of appreciating physical attributes of the opposite sex. Still Gene was in the costume and makeup, casually leaning against the back wall as he kept a close watch on the female clientele as Menne found her eyes wandering to the males.

Sapphire eyes scanned the room, stopping to fix on the sight of Menne standing next to Gene. Both were engaged in active conversation with quite a few guests. They moved as a loose unit among the groupies, roadies, and other close friends. Inwardly the Princess seemed to either be flummoxed or fascinated with Menne's recent transformation. The distance across the room that the two princesses bracketed might as well have been the distance between the earth and the moon, Menne reflected. Sohkarra basking in the comfort and excitement by the Space Ace's side, while Mennehotep relaxed in the calmer background with the Demon. Two diametric opposites, who had been at odds since Ace had joined the group, they were still part of the magic that created the unique flavor of KISS.

Casually Gene leaned an arm on Menne's shoulder as he continued to introduce her to some of the "friends" he had not seen for a while. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Star Child and Ashake entering the room together, both hands clasped. Paul held their drinks while she sat first on a nearby mission sofa. A minute later he cuddled up beside her once she was settled. Momentary pangs of jealousy floated over her when the scene seemed strikingly familiar to when she had first met Paul. So handsome, suave and debonair was he. How had the magic ceased for him and her?

Was Paul another facet of royalty she had struggled to escape. With Gene, there was no showering of gifts and physical luxuries. Rather affection, and simple company with a need for attention in return.

Simplicity and fire was coupled with the no-nonsense approach resulted in a hot and fast passion that saw no sign of burning out anytime soon. Yes, Gene was rude, crude, and rather arrogant at times, but beneath the makeup and the act, was someone who really gave a damn about her. Not in words and flowers, but in actions. She didn't feel as if he were trying to buy her love or constantly prove himself to her. Except maybe in other ways by his daily actions.

*Menne, are you happy? came a voice in her mind. Menne chose to ignore the mind cast, opting to block it out. Sapphire eyes clouded in confusion when Sohkarra found her mental query fall short. Lately it seemed that a wall had arisen around her friend's mind, making it close to impossible to read her thoughts or emotions. Gene had that same blocking, perhaps it was his stubborn will that repulsed her probes. Ashake cast a disapproving glance at Sohkarra, her own mental energies pushing back.

*That's very rude, young one... to listen in on your friends private thoughts," Ashake lightly rebuffed, her green gray eyes fixing into sapphire ones.

*Of what business is it of yours?" Sohkarra's probes returned.

*Rath told me to keep an eye on all of you. And I mean to."

The icy sapphire gaze made Ashake shake her head and chuckle sadly. *You have so much to learn, little one. Always wanting the upper hand... now that Menne denies you, it frightens you, doesn't it?"

*I don't see what business it is of yours..."

*Menne is not a guardian of Rapses. You are afraid you are losing her... to the Demon. But Menne is growing up..."

*WE are no longer close..."

"Life is choice and change," Ashake shook her head. "And letting go..."

12 AM:

Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Sohkarra taking Ace's hand. Lightly she felt his kiss to the side of her face. What made her flinch so to be touched, Menne wondered. Could it be she still missed JaKal, and Ace was but a substitute?

Paul's hand traced playfully along Ashake's shoulder. She shook her head and laughed. His little games were ineffective, for he faced one whose natural sexuality far outclassed his own charms. Hopelessly he was out of his league.

She leaned over towards Gene, slipping a hand around his hips and feeling the sensation of spandex stretched over muscle. His body was different from Paul's, who was long and slender yet muscled. The feel of one versus the other was night and day. Reaching behind her back his own hand slipped around her waist and shoulders, gripping with short kneading strokes. Lightly it traced over her backside, giving an affectionate squeeze. All this happened well out of sight of their acquaintances, their hands concealed by Gene's vampire cloak. Save the mischievous look on both their faces, that was.

"Want to blow this pop stand, babe?" he whispered into her ear. "Or are you fascinated by the local action?"

"Gene, you're awful," she hissed back, suppressing a giggle. Already people had scoped out places in the room to settle down and get comfortable. Those that wanted privacy had already left to smaller rooms.

Taking her hand, he lead her to a nearby quiet corner somewhere halfway in the room by a tall decorative pillar. Gene maneuvered her around so that they stood front to front, their sides to the pillar's slick faux marble surface. Over her shoulder he got a most excellent view of Peter and his lady, as Menne, glancing around his shoulder with the armored spikes caught a glimpse of Ace and Sohkarra. Already he had pressed a line of gentle kisses down her neck, and she tossed her head back with parted lips. She wore her own makeup design as he wore his, and the faint traces of silver paint smirched her flesh as Ace worked his way down towards her chest. How much more comfortable she seemed with physical affection now that they had consummated a physical relationship!

Gene leaned over, towering over Mennehotep, even though she wore four inch platform sandals. Lips started a journey from her forehead down the side of her cheek, growing ever more firm with each touch. She herself kissed the inner surface of his arm through spandex, her hot breath teasing his skin through the stretchable fabric. Between kisses each could not help but peer through the haze of cigarette smoke at their respective targets.

"Your friend's loosened up all right," Gene whispered into her ear, hot breath shivering her to the core. His hand slipped under the front of her leather jacket, slowly tracing a path to her chest.

"I should say the same for Paul... he just walked in..." she gave an updated report, leaning up on tiptoes to reach his lips, but not quite making it. Damn it Gene, you're too blasted tall, she inwardly cursed. Instead she busied herself with slipping her hands beneath the batwing cloak that covered his back, exploring with her hands. Already his own hands were making short daring exploits on her body that made her gasp low under her breath. Peering around his arm she glimpsed Paul cuddling up next to a giggling Ashake, his red lips ever so lightly pressing kisses to her inside palm. Again the pang of jealousy ripped through her, and she let loose with a noise of confusion. If Rath even saw this, he would throw what Gene called a "shit fit".

Gene noticed her tensed muscles, struggling to even reach his neck to lay kisses on what she could reach of his bare skin. Most of the costume was that blasted metal and spandex, save the part near his neck which exposed part of his chest. It was an incredible turn on in some ways for her not to be able to touch him, and maddening in others. Slipping arms around her waist he pushed her stomach to his chest, and lifted her bodily so her face was at a level with his painted one. Paul, despite his own strength had rarely attempted this for more then a mere minute's peck. Speaking of the which, the Star Child traced a line of kisses down Ashake's arm to her own neck, slowly running his tongue along it. Manicured nails danced across his chest as she lowered her cheek to it. The battle of the Casanova versus the Sidhe love goddess had begun.

Strong arms slipped down her back to her rear, lifting as he held her there. Menne's fingers seized his hair, her lips hungrily moving over his own eager ones. For a moment she lost herself in the sensation yet again of his tongue against hers, hot moist breath shared in that common space. She was fully alive, her heart pounding against his chest, her shivers departing to the nether regions of her body pressed to his armored one. The metal studding on his costume was slightly uncomfortable pressed in such close quarters, a striking contrast to the softness of his lips to hers.

"I'm going freaking crazy," Gene whispered against her lips. "Want to get down and dirty here and now, baby? Or can you wait till we go someplace a little more remote..."

"Isis, you come right out with it," she whispered back. "I can barely stand it myself..."

"And what's wrong with that?" he laughed. "Most of the people here are plastered out of their damned minds... who the hell would notice what we did?"

"Our mutual friends," Menne said, and Gene noticed the flush on her skin as he continued to hold her off her feet, no sign of tiring anytime soon.

"Knowing them they'd get off on it," Gene laughed. "And what the hell do we have to be embarrassed about anyway? IF it's some insecurity crap about you not feeling you measure up to the rest of these broads... forget it... you'd turn me on if you were covered in mud!"

"No," she shook her head, covering his lips with her hand. "I just well... want to have you to myself... perhaps?"

He took her answer well, and gave a mischievous grin. "Without Casanova?"

"It would seem he's otherwise occupied. Less and less he seems to want to share in our... arrangement," Mennehotep shook her head.  "I just don't understand why Paul is so taken with Ashake all of a sudden.."

"Well, he's got a hot chick's attention, can you blame him?"

"I hate to think that I've hurt him somehow... and now he's acting as if he's forgotten all about me..."

"We both came into this situation with you, and it's his choice to leave or stay. He has the right, and the freedom to choose, okay?" Gene whispered back. "Even though I have to admit he's falling pretty quickly for her..."

"As he did for me," Menne whispered, barely audible.

"Let him enjoy the party. And you'd better as well, sweetheart... or does that kill the old drive then?"

"Not in the slightest," she answered after a deep breath. "Let's do it..."

"You wanted the best, you got the best," Gene laughed, carrying her out towards the elevator lobby, not caring one iota who saw them. Already Ace and Sohkarra were long gone.

Ace's Hotel Room:

"Ace..." she choked. His hand was so warm against her already flushed cheek. Back at his hotel room they had wandered, their desire quite apparent. Ever so delicately his fingers slipped over her lips, fingering her teeth. She didn't understand what he was doing, and when she tried to scan his brain, she felt the confusing rush of emotions almost overwhelming to her. It was too painful for her to listen now, and somehow she didn't want to know what he was thinking, lest she jump the gun as she had before.

Ace gripped her shoulder, and drew her close in a hug. Sohkarra pulled back for a moment, studying his face which was still covered in that concert paint. It felt softly powdered under her fingers when she traced the wrinkles concealed on his jaws. "Karra," he whispered softly. Tension fell thick between them in that moment. Breathing deeply Sohkarra slipped her arms around his neck and brought her face very close to his. As a magnet drawn to a paper clip, Ace's sharply chiseled lips in electric blue met hers. Sohkarra's breath turned into a gasp when Ace's hands backed off from her face, and slipped down her arms to wrap around her. Lean arms crushed her to his sequined chest, which he brushed against her bosom. Not letting go of her mouth he began to slowly knead one hand over her chest. Taking his time to caress and touch with firm fingers.

Her gasp of surprise came through the kiss, and Ace slowed down. Instead he shifted the emphasis on his hand that traced over her shoulder blades. He rested his hand on her breast, waiting as he continued his ministrations. Down her spine his hand worked till he pushed at the small of her back firmly. This thrust her hips towards his thighs when he leaned over on platform boots.

How bold he was being, she inwardly reflected. Yet how long had it been since JaKal had kissed her with such passion? Both his hands rested at the small of her back now, and Ace brought them lower till they curved over her buttocks. Those fingers that caressed his Gibson Epiphone so masterfully danced downwards as he pushed her hips close to his. Drawing her head back she cast him a warning glance. Biting his painted lips a bit he withdrew his hands a bit.

"Whoops, hehehehe," he chuckled with that cackle she couldn't stand. Gripping his lapel she brought her nose close to his silver painted cheek.

"Ace, put a sock in it," she shook her head. Then cut off his laugh with a firm steamy kiss. Taking his hand she placed it squarely over her breast.

"Not so bad, eh?" he grinned when they pulled back from the latest lip press. It left them both breathless this time.

"Just don't start laughing..." Sohkarra warned him.

Ace jerked his head in the direction of the bedroom, and Sohkarra nodded. Slipping his arm around her waist he hesitated. Sohkarra was all set to follow, when he leaned over, and tried to pick her up. Sohkarra was surprised when he actually managed it!

Gene's Suite:

It was perhaps one o'clock when Gene, with Menne latched about his hips, fumbled open his suite door, the security guards keeping a discrete distance. They had seen their fair share of the Demon and his romantic conquests to know his routine well. Both shared a secret smile when they recognized his choice this night. They had suspected an undercurrent of attraction betwixt the base guitarist and the pyrotechnician ever since Mr. Stanley had hired her.

Menne's back hit the wall as Gene leaned into her deep kiss. Tongues caressed, and she showed no fear now of his own physical attributes. She was momentarily sandwiched between the wall and his body that stroked itself against hers. Fingernails dug into the spandex, almost reaching through to his skin.

She pulled back, laughing as she said, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable on the bed?"

"Depends, sweetheart, if I can make it there!" he laughed. "You're driving me insane..."

They ended up in the back bedroom, landing first as they both hit the bed simultaneously. Frenzied fingers pulled at their clothes, their lips firmly sealed as their hands gripped and kneaded at each other's bodies. It was a struggle to wrench off Gene's dragon boots, till Menne stood up temporarily and seized the end of one, yanking with all her might. At the last tug, the boot came free in her hands as she landed rudely on the floor.

"You okay? You didn't bruise that pretty rear did you?" he laughed, reaching a hand to help pull her to her feet, and up on the bed gain next to him.

"Only my pride," she giggled back, and landed atop him playfully pulling at the other pieces of his costume. He worked the other boot off, as she figured out the armor's fastenings, and he went to work pulling at her stellar leggings.

"Wait a minute," Gene whispered, when he had divested her of all her clothes.

"You wait? Are you feeling well?" she giggled as he disappeared into the other room. When he returned he carried something in his hands. Reddish ichor dribbled from between his hands, coagulated blood.

"What are you doing?" she half laughed, half gasped because it was rather sticky, and a bit warm. "This is... not exactly... what I think it is... some odd ritual..."

Gene's only answer was a laugh, as Menne gasped with sudden fear. The trail of blood ended, dribbling from his lips as he slowly began to lap the substance from her stomach. "Oh Isis preserve me!" Menne screamed, a look of horror in her eyes.

"Relax sweetheart..." Gene said, when he noticed she was truly scared. Damn, she was really spooked, Gene muttered to himself as he felt her tense up under him.

"Taste..."

He ran a finger over her glazed stomach, lifting the finger to her lips, and she shied away. Tentatively her tongue lapped at the blood, which tasted distinctly like cherries.

"You son of a bitch, you scared me half to death!" she groaned, smacking his leg playfully.

"Had you going there, didn't I?" he laughed.

"I am going to kill you, Gene Simmons!" she said, voice low as she pounced on him, her cherry stained front pressing against him. For a mere moment she parted from him, tracing the line of faux blood with a delicate stroke of her tongue on his warm skin. A low growl escaped his throat as he writhed in ecstasy.

They took their time licking the substance from each other's bodies, till both were sticky and sweet with sweat mingled juices. Legs latched themselves around his waist as he pressed her beneath his solid weight, and she lightly nipped the flesh of his exposed neck.

Fingernails drew blood in scratches as he entered her quickly. Slow rocking became rapidly accelerated as her hunger grew and grew to be satiated. Cries mingled in the space of the room as they filled each other's pleasures and pains. She could not help but lightly nip at the folds of whatever skin she could reach upon him with her hungry mouth, no less then he could resist the impulse to bath her hot sleek flesh with his infamous tongue. Both reached a shattering climax that ripped through each of their bodies in a hot sheet of flame.

Ace's Room:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have liftoff! This solves the height discrepancy," Ace grinned, as he carried her towards the door. Of its own accord it clicked open. Sohkarra expected him to dump her onto the bed, but he actually turned around, and sat down, putting her on his lap.

"Touchdown!" he quipped, trying to hold the discordant laugh. It backfired into a spasmodic shudder in his body. Finally he suppressed it by pressing yet another kiss to the woman in his arms. Even though his thighs were thin under hers, they were still knotted with strong muscle. A bull rider's build, she thought. Slowly, deliberately he leaned back in the bed and pulled her down with him. Before she could even think he rolled over on top of her, pressing her into the soft pillows with his fevered kiss. Sohkarra was pinned under his lean weight, his tongue working delicious things into her protesting mouth as his hands stroked her hair.

"Ace... umm... Ace look... mmmph!"

"Shh," he whispered. "Don't analyze it, baby. Just go with it..."

"But..."

Ace lay a finger on her lips, straddling her hips. "Hey now, give me a chance here. You're not gonna sit there and pitch this little old space pioneer into orbit just because he's up close and personal, are you?"

"Don't tempt me," Sohkarra said, looking half serious.

"Aww, don't give me static, Karra," he scolded, and began to kiss her cheek, then her neck, downwards to her chest. "I've done this before..."

"Yes..." she said.

"And this..." Ace said, slipping his hand over her chest as he started to breathe into her ear. When his tongue began to trace over her earlobe she flinched.

"Hmm, no go huh?" he said, withdrawing. "Maybe you'd like this..."

So saying, Ace lightly brushed his nose down her ear, nosing into the hollow between neck and shoulder. He kept his tongue within his mouth, only lightly pulling away when his lips made the briefest feather contact. He began to slip his hands over her chest, working one hand under her shirt as he went slowly. Much more maddeningly slow then he was used to in times past.

Ace guided her hand to his chest, slipping her fingers under his collar. He was not hairy-chested like the others, but fine and smooth like an Egyptian man. Thoughts of JaKal filled her mind, and anger flooded her. She almost didn't feel Ace's hands slipping her shirt hem upwards, till she felt the blasts of hot breath on her flesh. With a cry she grabbed Ace's collar and pulled him down on top of her. Her mouth sought his, hesitating only for a moment as her eyes locked into his. Then her lips found his in a long steamy kiss.

"Oh, baby," Ace murmured, when she withdrew. She tugged off the wristbands, then stopped. Slowly he felt the tug of something over his costume as invisible fingers began to pull.

"Don't use your mind, baby," he pleaded. "Just this once let me feel your hands taking it off..."

He guided her hands to the fastenings of his costume, somewhere behind the back of his neck. It took longer, and her fingers fumbled a bit reaching up, but it seemed to make Ace much happier. He took his time pulling over her own clothing and tossing it down to the side. Kisses rained all over her bare chest quickly. His need was already apparent as he pressed his form to hers, only underwear between them now.

A finger traced over the abdominal scar, decorated with the traditional markings. He brushed his lips over her chest, seeking her nurturing like a small child. However he was a bit more vigorous this time, and she barely could hold back her own restraint as her mind seethed and simmered. She felt her control barely keeping her mental probes in check. Strangely she encountered resistance this time. Since when were his thoughts denied her? Were they buried behind the raw emotions?

"Aw baby, that's stellar!" he groaned, rolling over to the side as they found themselves between sheets. Yes he was much skinnier and leaner then JaKal, but there were other attributes that shouldn't be overlooked. When it came to the basic mechanics of the kiss, he did not hold back. That was the danger and the delight.

Urgently his need happened to stroke against one leg, and she flinched. He moved up off her, till they lay side by side. His fingers found her chest again, working over it with soft touches. Each one exploded over her telepathy, and she had to shut off her probes lest she be overwhelmed. The line of advancing kisses moved downwards till he stopped just before her nether regions. She half expected him to dare, but he waited, shifting so he was balanced over her. Instead his hand tickled down her thigh's outside. Already she was burning, aching there, desperately afraid and wanting to pleasure him with her mind. It was so much safer.

He felt her telekinetic fingers sweeping over his body, and pulled away. She sat up, as he hesitated.

"No, not that way," he said, on the brink so much he was screaming mad.

"Ace it's better..."

"Is it?" Ace asked her. This time she was aching for release, and he was there, seemingly as cool as a cucumber curse him! He could take her there and now, but he was holding back. Again his hand tickled over her stomach, her breasts which were on fire by now. His tongue teased over her breasts then withdrew as he leaned back.

"All you have to do is ask me, Karra," he said. "It's that simple..."

His legs worked in amongst hers, caressing teasingly. Slowly the trend again grew, rubbing her stomach. Sohkarra kissed his chest lightly, working up her nerve. Tears were brushed aside with a rough yet gentle finger, when he rolled over atop her.

"Shh," he whispered, coaxing her legs apart as he settled one over his hip. Her lips found his, an anxious kiss savaging them. This time her mind was locked behind anger, and it was only her body pressing up against his, her fingers digging into his bare chest and lean thighs.

He positioned himself over her as she lay on her back, opening herself to him.

"Ace!" she gasped, when he stopped mere centimeters from her.

"Now?" he asked. "Is this what you want? The real me, with you right now?"

"Yes," she whispered, eyes deep with passion. Her ankles slipped up the sides of his hips, pulling him close. With a deliciously hard thrust he pushed part of the way in. Her cry exploded with the contact of actual flesh on flesh.

"See it isn't that bad," Ace grunted, pushing the rest of the way in. He began to rock quickly, moving fast to sate the desire that he had concealed till now. The spaceman was a different sensation and feel to JaKal, slimmer yet faster. His skill very different. Very fast like mercury tempered with wind.

"Isis!" she screamed, her head thrashing side to side. With JaKal she had felt the connection in her mind. Now all she felt was the nothingness of blackness, filled with the overwhelming sensation of her building need. It came crashing down in an odd release that flooded her fast and furious. Ace slowed a bit, repositioning himself as he lifted her ankles and angled himself for a better position.

"God Karra you're so tense... mellow out... you'll enjoy it better..." Ace urged, drawing her onto his lap. "There... ah... that's the stuff..."

"I... I... oh Ra!" she gasped, tears down her cheeks. It hurt like hell, but it was a strange sweet pain she'd ached for.

"Mmm--mm baby," he hummed with delight. "Much better... that's awesome...."

She found her rhythm as Ace bore down harder, angling himself in a way that exposed parts of her to him that she hardly knew could tingle. She had to admit he knew what he was doing. Blue light seemed to flood her senses, crushing her telepathic probes flat. She couldn't bring herself to toss him away with her mind. Within she felt his cresting then the silvery explosion that broke with his loud cry.

Still he kept inside, continuing to rock as she felt herself climbing to that same place.

*Curse you JaKal, * was her last thought before her mind surged away into the bliss of climax. When it abated she collapsed on the bed; Ace draped over her yet still inside her.

"All right," Ace smiled, his makeup streaked face nuzzling her. "That was the best..."

Sohkarra whimpered, her tears flowing as he rested on her, and gently kissed them away.

"Oh baby... I didn't mean to hurt you..." Ace kissed her.

"It's not that... I just need to get used to this," she looked up at him. Ace wrapped his slender body around hers protectively. Folding her close to his lean form he embraced her from above and below. Slowly he still rocked his hips, not spent completely. He rested for a few minutes, still inside.

"That's your hang-up then," Ace nodded. "So damned uptight! Man I thought you'd never unwind. Don't you feel a whole lot better now you've relaxed?"

"I don't know," She glanced up at him. He suckled at her bosom, which was goose pimpled by now.

"Hmm, should we find out?" Ace grinned, and rocked his hips again. Sohkarra knew he perhaps couldn't rise to the occasion so soon, but a mischievous smile came over her lips.

"Now that... is a good use for that mind trick," Ace groaned, as he felt the effects of her power, in a very localized fashion. "Keep it up... Oh mannnnnn!"

Gene's Suite, much later:

Much later she lay upon him, under cherry stained sheets, humming to herself. Gene dozed quietly, stroking his fingers along her bare back lightly. She had her head pillowed on his chest, the rest of her balanced across his strong body. Something she had never been able to do with Tuthmosis, nor Rath, but possibly JaKal if their relationship had come anywhere near as intimate as this one.

Gene's arms wound around her possessively as she shifted slightly upon him. Still she traced a finger over his chest, pushing his hair lightly aside. Long since divested of the makeup, his rugged features were now visible through the fringe of her half opened eyes. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," she murmured.

"Mm," Gene muttered, half awake. "Then I won't have to hunt you down, Queenie."

"That's sweet," she sighed deeply, her hunger and desire almost fully sated for now.

"Believe it," Gene said, straitening up a bit as he opened his eyes fully to glance at her.

"I know I'm starting with that silly inferiority complex... granted in your experience you've had close to scores of women... but..."

"Hah!" Gene laughed, and playfully squeezed her backside. "I knew this was coming! You've nothing to worry about in that department, baby. I'll be the first to say you're one of the best I've ever had..."

She blushed with some pride, even though others might have found his comments someone demoralizing under some circumstances. "You are not just... as you succinctly put it... 'bullshitting me?'" she asked.

"Would I lie to you?" he laughed, and stretched under her languidly. "Didn't I tell you a while back not to sell yourself short. It kills the damned mood. And do I look like a man who's disappointed?"

"Well as you often say, you want the best," Menne glanced down at him, straightening up. Gene was wide-awake by now, and pushed himself up on his palms to look at her.

"And I've got the best," Gene said graciously, kissing her shoulder firmly. "And we both know what makes a person that way..."

"Practice," Menne nodded.

"Now you're talking," Gene grinned. Glancing over her shoulder she noticed the digital clock said three thirty AM. He had to admit he admired a woman who could keep up with his demands, and few had proven as in sync as Menne with his own appetites.

"Want something to keep up your strength," he offered, shifting slightly under her.

"Gene, it's the middle of the night!" she laughed.

"So, a guy and gal have got to keep their strength up..." Gene said, and gently shifted her to the side as he tried to reach for the phone. "Time for a little room service..."

Menne burst into a fit of giggles as Gene spoke his order over the phone. Muffling the talking end of the receiver, he asked, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing..." she chuckled, stifling her giggle. "Just... go on as you were..."

Paul's Room:

They sat under the stars on the hotel's verandah of Paul's private suite. Both shared the chaise lounge by a metal filigreed table. Two glasses of champagne rested at their elbow beside a dozen roses in their crystal vase. Quietly they talked of various and sundry little details of the concert tour gone by. Ashake cuddled into the curve of his arm, her amber warmth surging perceptibly into Paul's amethyst energy. He had to admit he had not felt so turned on in ages. Each charmed move seemed gently rebuffed and matched by her grace.

It was clear he was dealing with one far more experienced in the ways of romance then he. Or then he would like to admit. Still this didn't quash his enthusiasm for the pursuit.

"You've been following me around like a lost puppy for the past few days," Ashake laughed. Inwardly Paul shivered at the musical sound.

"Can you blame me? A lovely lady such as you?"

"You say that to all the strange women who frequent your tour, do you not?" Ashake laughed back. Turning around, her hot breath hit him full in the face, clear water scent assaulting his nostrils. Eyes as deep as the sea fixed into his, and took on a rich shade of Aegean blue.

"None as lovely as you are. Or as hot, either…"

"You say kind words, Star Bearer," she laughed back. "But how far are you willing to go, when your senses scream for far more?"

"God you're hot," Paul stammered out. "What man wouldn't want to be with you this fine night?"

His steady stream of come-on lines amused Ashake. She verbally parried with her own, "And what a dark, silvery star studded night it is…"

"I'm not looking at the stars…" Paul glanced down at her.

"Mm hmm," Ashake nodded, stroking a hand along his thigh lightly when his arm slipped around her shoulders. Pushing her back into Paul's chest, she worked her hips between his outstretched legs, and rested against him in the chaise lounge. He sighed deeply with contentment, burying his nose in her chestnut ringlets. That earthy scene merged with the clear water, pure heaven in its fragrance.

"Something's on your mind, isn't it, Star Bearer," Ashake's voice came. "Why don’t you tell me what it is?"

"And what would make you think anything could spoil this night…"

"Please, I am a healer… above all else. I think it would be wise if you felt you could share your fears, to further improve this night… for I have ears to listen…"

Paul let out a sigh, and felt her amber touch seeping into him. Ever so perceptibly it warmed his heart and aching soul. "It’s Menne, isn't it?" Ashake guessed, not facing him, but tingeing her voice with warmth. "You still care for her, and yet you know she is beyond your grasp…"

"How did you…" Paul started, then shut his mouth. "Yes, it is. Look, I'm happy that she's happy, don’t get me wrong…"

"Why then don’t you share in what she and Gene offer you?" Ashake said. "I was under the impression that the three of you were quite satisfied…"

"There came a time when I felt… left out. That somehow I would stifle the fire that the two of them shared."

"And…" Ashake said, her ivory skin pale under the starlight as she turned her head to gaze back over one shoulder. "Go on…"

"Well," Paul sighed, knowing instinctively that he could trust this woman with his innermost secrets. "I… well… don’t always like to share…"

"And Gene does?"

"Hmm, that's the funny part," Paul said. "I thought Menne would be happy with me. But she seems so much happier with Gene. Alone. And the last thing I wanted… oh shit… was for her to… well… I guess what I'm saying is…"

"You desired Menne’s happiness before your own… and for that reason you no longer wish to be ‘in the way’?" Ashake provided.

"That's it, strangely enough. I had fun, believe me. But she's no longer in my reach. I had… to let her go. And that means moving on. It isn’t quite right anymore, the sharing. Call me crazy… but I think they're better off without me there…"

"Menne still cares for you," Ashake looked him deep in the eyes. "In her own way."

"But she loves Gene," Paul blurted out. There, it had been said. "Of all people to think of her with Gene… its just uncanny. I don’t get it, but I want her to be happy. What I've always wanted. And Gene… he's my best friend."

"You're learning to give," Ashake said with a warm smile. "And that is the best love of all. Wanting someone's happiness before your own, and letting him or her go to spread their wings. You've shown great growth letting Gene and Menne explore their relationship on their own. But also you've allowed them to share it with you. Don’t loose sight of that possibility…"

"I still think I'm a third wheel on the bike, Ash," he said. "Lately when the three of us are together in that bedroom, I feel less and less a part of the action. That's why I've kept away…"

"And you're missing her," said Ashake. "As she misses you, and in her own way loves you…"

"I know. Being the nice guy sucks sometimes…"

"It doesn't have to," Ashake said.

"No, it doesn't," Paul said, tilting her chin to gaze into his eyes. "You're here…"

"Indeed," Ashake looked at him. "And you're very lonely, being the nice guy, aren't you?"

"Not with you…" he said.

"I'm not going anywhere," Ashake said, and leaned back into his long lean body. Paul's arms wound around her chest as he pulled her close, nuzzling her ear with his nose. Both simply glanced upwards at the stars together, basking in the mutual comfort of her amber touch.

Gene's Room:

She tipped a mouthful of Fresca past his lips as he gratefully gulped the soft drink down, then offered the glass of soda to her for a sip. Momentarily she winced at the diet taste, swishing it in her mouth as she tried to get used to it.

"Ugh, how can you tolerate that taste?" she asked.

"Same way you can stand the taste of beer," he laughed at her.  Again she took the glass of soda from him, and he took another swig.  Oddly enough he offered it to her as before, and she took a mouthful just to seem polite.

"It's just so... so... tangy..." she shook her head.  "I never figured you for a person who never consumed alcohol... in any form."

"I figure it this way.  Why dull my enjoyment with booze when there's so much to experience," Gene laughed.  Slowly the smile from his face faded, and his dark eyes fixed into hers. He set the Fresca aside, and reached for something else to the one side of the bed.

"Menne," Gene whispered, fixing her in his gaze. To the one side they had parked a room service cart laden with the half eaten remains of takeout orders. The remains of some fried chicken covered half a plate beside dishes of various deserts. Gene had to admit this chick sure matched his appetite in the consumption of food as well as other carnal pursuits. Which suited him just fine.

"What?" Menne asked, as he lifted a dollop of vanilla pudding to her lips. She licked it off his fingers with soothing strokes that made him growl low in his throat.  He lapped off a bit of chocolate icing from her finger with his tongue, making her sigh with delight. A small amount landed on her chest, and he took his time licking it away.

"Something's been bugging the crap out of me, and I need to say something, or else it'll continue to fester."

"I hope it isn't anything that I..." Menne started, shifting in his arms as she pushed herself up off him.

"No babe," he said, glancing up at her. "Back when you and I were getting into the mood, and I showered you with that blood, you were scared shitless. What was up with that?"

"Can you blame me, Gene? It can be... rather intimidating... to have blood on my body..." her voice trailed off, and she shuddered even though she was pressed close up to him under the sheets.

"I only wanted to turn you on, but you looked damn near terrified. Something, some unpleasant memory came into your mind, doll, didn't it?"

"It was... nothing..."

"Whatever you say. But does it have anything to do with why it took so damn long for you to get used to me? Why you were so freaked out whenever I tried to come onto you?"

"Yes, and no," Menne whispered, shivering as she turned away from him. "When I first saw you... in full makeup... you resembled the Khabit... the blood drinkers in ancient Egypt that were the un-dead who had not been properly prepared for the afterlife..."

"I wouldn't really bite... hard," Gene joked, nuzzling her neck as he slipped an arm around her shaking body. Menne froze, trembling.

"That isn’t funny Gene," she snapped.

"Hey, take it easy, you know I wouldn't hurt you, baby," he said, placing a thigh over hers as she turned away. Firmly he pinned her there, under his weight even though it was only partly resting on her.

"You had made that promise before. I apologize for being skittish, Gene," she said, glancing up at him. "If I had known... the truth about you..."

"Knock it off already," Gene scolded her. "I have you now, so what the hell does it matter?"

"It wasn't you... entirely, that frightened me. Yet what you did with the blood," Menne said, as he lifted her face to glance into his dark eyes. "I have met Khabit, vampires as you call them, in this time..."

"You're not shitting me are you? This is definitely for real, isn't it," Gene asked, knowing by the seriousness in her eyes that she wasn't. "Why you had the aversion for blood, for my Demon costume... it reminded you of that..."

"Yes," Menne said. "It's silly really. Your costume is only trappings... and yet your blood spitting on stage, and your bat wing cloak never fails to remind me of them..."

"Hey, it's not silly. This is serious shit, if vampires really exist..."

"You believe me?"

"Of course," Gene said, gently straddling her hips on her as he warmed her body, which had dropped ten degrees in shock at the memory of vampires. "Look, I know better then to not believe you, considering the craziness that's been happening lately. I trust you. You should know that by now..."

"It was a year or two ago, when I met the Khabit. They... wished to make me as they were..."

"How so?" Gene asked, fixing his gaze into hers. Like a comforting campfire his body heat seeped into hers, helping to alleviate the chills that ran down her spine from memory.

"I met their leader... Levar, and he was so... so... exciting. I didn't realize what his true nature was... till I was almost... one of them..."

"Hey, easy. Look, I'm here baby, and nobody's going to harm you while I can help it, unless they want their asses seriously kicked," Gene assured her. "So unload if you want to. I'll listen..."

In halting phrases she explained, while Gene listened. Not judging, but nodding and muttering his affirmations for her to continue. When she had finished she was very quiet, and Gene by then had shifted off her, laying on his side.

(click here to read about Menne and LeVarr's first meeting, the Masque of All Hallow's Eve)

"I know you're not a Khabit, even if you are the Demon," Menne muttered. "For instance if you were a vampire you would not logically breathe fire. It's lethal to them. It's just... well... the blood spitting…"

"I know. No wonder you were freaked. Damn..." Gene muttered. "Real live un-dead. Existing underneath our noses for so long. Real creatures of the night."

"The last thing I wanted to do was offend you, but you scared me in that moment..."

"I have that effect on people, you're not the first to be driven away. But it's part of what I am, who I am. And it's not keeping us apart now, is it? Or are you still frightened of me, Menne?"

"Yes, and no," she said, shyly. "You do unnerve me sometimes, but I know its an act. I know I could trust you with my life..."

"You always can, sweetheart," Gene said, moving close, his voice soft as velvet. It sent shivers over her, but not from fear. Menne shivered again, and reached for a piece of chocolate cake, biting into it nervously.

"Somehow I knew that from the start... but... oh I'm still starved..."

"Let's see what we can do about that," he said, pulling her to lean on his chest as he lay on his back. He reached over to the room service cart, selecting a gooey cheese stick dipped in tomato paste. Slowly he held it up to her, and she took her time letting him feed her. Most of the deserts they had ordered had vanished along with a sizable order of mozzarella cheese sticks and other greasy yet satisfying foods. She hated to think who had to be roused to prepare them at such a late hour.

"Mm, delicious," Menne muttered, licking at a strand of cheese that spread from his hand to hers. Gene nibbled the other end, and their lips met in a greasy yet satisfying kiss.

"Best way to eat these," Gene laughed against her lips. She murmured with delight as they shared another, the molten cheese sliding over her tongue. Closer she moved, so she straddled him. Hungrily he reared up into her heat, hips moving in unison with hers. Not since the one particular eunuch she recalled from centuries ago had she such an active lover.

"Ra, Gene, don't you ever give up!" she moaned with deep pleasure.

"Not till you do, sweetheart," he gasped, shoving in with hard strong thrusts that she couldn't get enough of.  She let out a loud shriek as he pulled her down and covered her mouth with his. Both of them rolled over into the voluminous bed, a tangle of hair and bodies as they completed each other for yet another blissful time.

Los Angeles, KISS concert that next day:

She wandered off after the rendition of Black Diamond, her mind a million miles away.  Lips curled into a secret smile of contentment.  Lately it seemed that aching void no longer bothered her, and for the first time in a while she did not stop to analyze why.  Turning around, Mennehotep glanced sidelong at the gyrating figures in silver and black on-stage amidst the cascade of pyrotechnics.  They rose on their platforms, leaving the Space Ace alone on-stage as he lifted his Gibson with a flourish.  Gene's arms spanned wide, his impressive cloak billowing in the updrafts of the flash pots.

Something tugged at her subconscious, and she could not resist the pull.  Slowly she moved offstage towards the Green room, suddenly dying for a drink.  Nothing alcoholic, but something else she had once hated, but craved.

Minutes later she emerged, a can of soda in hand.  Perching on one of the crates, she pulled back the tab and gulped a mouthful of citrus tang.  It burned oddly like a tug of Jack Daniels, but this mouthful added nothing to her natural intoxication already present, save to highlight it.  Shadows moved between sets, as ten thousands fans screamed the band's name.  Within minutes she imagined Peter would descend from his platform and sit on-stage, towel over his shoulders as he sang "Beth" in raspy endearing tones.
The sound was drowned out except the last possible moment when her head jerked around.  Menne's eyes widened as she saw two figures, their black cloaked forms trailing behind them.

"Gene, Paul?" were the last two words from her lips as she tumbled off the crates.  A cascade of clear soda arced from the upset Fresca can.  Hissing figures leapt upon her, and she felt a sharp click of something piercing her neck.

"Get off me..." she gasped, punching at elusive air.

"Oh no... not this time..." came a low hiss of inhuman voice.  "We have come too far to let you slip away again... sister..."

"Do not take too much..." came another voice.  Menne dropped to her knees, feeling her life slipping far away as she struggled against steely fingers.  She could not wrench free from them.

"With the Wisdom of Isis!" she choked, before she realized that phrase could no longer bring her help.  Desperately she slipped out of her KISS army jacket, stumbling away as two astonished shadows glanced at the empty garment in their grasp.

"Where did she go?" asked one.  Menne stumbled, her mind hazing with a lightheaded sensation.  Something warm and red trickled from her neck as she slipped into the darkness. Her platform boots tripped her up, throwing her chin first on the floor.  Fans screamed all around at the sound of Gene's voice singing, "You show us everything you've got..."

Glancing up she saw two sharp eyes fixing on her in the dark, the pale face they were set into fixing into hers with sadness.  Where had she seen him before?  Dark hair curled over the waxy countenance, blood staining the front of his frilly shirt.

"You drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy..." Gene's vocals continued.

"No..." she gasped, rolling over and backing away.  Her legs were useless stumps, her wits fast fading.  She collided with a pair of stiletto heeled pumps. A laughing rasp of laughter stabbed over the strains of "I Wanna Rock and Roll all night..."

"Not so fast, Princess..." laughed the voice again.  Long streaks of blonde hair framed another necrotic face, as its owner leaned over her.  The long black gown was slit up the side, the neckline plunging like Elvira, mistress of the night.  "Remember us?"

"Celeste..." Mennehotep choked out as the fingers descended.  "What the hell are you..."

"Let's get this over with..." said Louis, reluctant.

"No... I want to savor this moment," Celeste's voice rasped.  Menne desperately wanted to scream, to cry out.  But all the fan cries would eclipse any cry for help.

"Let me go you bitch!" Menne screamed out, but her voice was choked off by a sleek set of fingers.  Her strength ebbed away as the two grasped her close.  Within her fading mind she screamed, "Gene!  Paul!"

Gene Simmons stammered past a next line, loosing his beat.  Paul glanced sidelong at his friend, feeling a sudden sick rush filling his brain.  Desperately he struggled to plug the gap Gene's skipping baseline had afforded.  However Gene recovered, flicking his mane of black hair as he caught up with Peter's beat.  What had come over him?  He could swear he heard someone screaming his name.  Yet it was perhaps an over eager fan.

"We love you!  Goodnight!" Paul screamed into the audience, leaping one last time.  The lights flooded out in that instant, the concert well over. Ace glanced over at Gene, who immediately rushed offstage into the darkness.

"What's with him?" he muttered to Paul, who was just about to follow.  "I'm usually the one behind the beat..."

"This is weird," Paul shivered.  That same force of violence stabbed through him, and petrified his spine.  The Star child set off after their friend, motioning to Ace.
A low growl erupted from Gene's throat when he glanced around, and saw no sign of Menne. Her bloodstained jacket lay on the floor nearby. Slowly Gene picked up the leather lined with soft silk, and clenched it in his gloved hands.

"No sign of her..." said the security guard.

"You have got to be shitting me," Gene growled. The iron scent of blood filled his nostrils, and he choked down his rising fear.

"We looked everywhere, Mr. Simmons... honestly..."

Just then, Paul came off from the stage, slipping his guitar over his shoulder. "What's up Gene?"

"This is," Gene snapped, holding up Menne's blood soaked jacket.

"How the hell..." Peter and Ace moved up, alerted by the concern.
They noted the bloodstains, and Peter winced as the scent wafted his nostrils, "Oh, fresh by the scent of it..." he waved his hand before his nose.

"Some punk jumped her... at one of our concerts... no way," said Paul, concern in his eyes.

"how could they get past our illustrious security?" Ace asked, shrugging.

"Shut up and let me think," Gene muttered.

"This is major weird," said Peter, shaking his head. "I could swear that the pattern of blood there... was right by the neck... but it looks like it was made by puncture wounds..."

"How can you deduce that, Dick Tracy?" asked Ace.

"Look at the pattern of the bleeding," Peter pointed out. Paul also glanced at the odd shape of the blood stains, which seemed to start at the collar and work their way downwards. His skin began to crawl ever so discernibly.

"Whoa... there's something very passionate... very... strong..." said Paul, scratching his neck. "Violent emotions... very raw... very primal..."

"How primal?" Peter asked.

"Like a beast... when it's ready for the kill," said Paul, wincing.

"Ace?" Gene asked.  "Do your outer space powers tell you anything?"

"Don't look at me. I'm not into the emotion stuff..."

"Wait... there's something else..." Peter sniffed at the blood, and winced again. "Yuck... I smell something that reeks... like something rotting..."

"What?" asked Ace.

"Like... dead bodies... or something. It's ripe..."

"I don't smell anything," Ace muttered. "Gene, did you forget to take a bath..."

His only response was a low growl, and a flaring of the nostrils from the Demon. Something surfaced in Gene's brain, tingling his own sensations. There seemed to be a darkness pervading the area, a darkness that seemed hauntingly familiar.

"A creature of the night," Gene muttered, and they could swear his eyes seemed to flare red for a moment.

"What was that, curly?" Ace asked.

"Nothing," Gene waved his hand. "Get the security to scour the place. I've got to see someone about something.  You guys wait here till I get back!"

So saying he stormed off, jacket in hand still in full costume. Leaving a very concerned Paul, Peter, and Ace shrugging at each other. The black star over Paul's right eye contorted with his frown. "This is nuts... who could possibly get in here and harm her?" the Star child asked.

"Moreover, I would hate to see them when Gene gets a hold of them," Ace joked. Paul glared at him, and he said, "What?"

"Ace can't you can the jokes?" Peter asked. "This is serious! There could be a murderer running loose..."

"Gene, wait up!" Paul shouted, moving after him.

"He said to wait, man," Ace cautioned.  "You know how pissy Gene gets when he's in a mood..."

"That's exactly why we shouldn't wait," Paul shot back.  "Something awful has happened to Menne, and I bet Gene knows something of what it is... and I'll be damned if we're left out of it..."

"All right," Peter nodded.  "But let's get out of this damned makeup first..."

"No time for that now!" Paul muttered, tossing his guitar to a technician and rushing off after Gene.  Grumbling, Peter set off after him, with a shrugging Space Ace right behind.

The Green Room:

"You're worried, aren't you?" someone asked as Gene felt a familiar slender hand on his shoulder.  Abruptly he whirled, to stand face to face with the woman who he  had regarded with trust, and an awed respect.

"No shit," he said, caught by surprise in the Green Room. The remains of several sandwiches and a few empty plastic cups littered the shag carpet.  "Look, if you don't mind doll... I'm in a hurry.  Something's happened to Menne, and I've got to find out what..."

"You already look like you know the answer..." Ashake said mysteriously.

"All right.  You know about weirdness, lady.  What do you make of this?" Gene asked, holding up the KISS army jacket stained with blood.  "No ordinary wound would cause this... would it?"

"Exactly," Ashake nodded, her eyes darkening with concern.  "And..."

"Peter swears he smelled blood, the stench of death... but it's impossible, isn't it?"

"It is, but you don't think so, do you, Gene?" Ashake answered him, her eyes flashing with some hidden knowledge.

"Stop screwing with me.  I think you know what happened..."

"So do you.  But you don't want to admit to the possibility... do you?" Ashake countered.

"Vampires," Gene gritted.  "I don't know how I recognized that it may be... but I know almost instinctively their traces..."

"The Demon knows other creatures that haunt the night," Ashake answered simply.

"What the hell is going on here?" Paul asked, moving up to the two of them.  "Gene... what's gotten into you..."

"Shh," Ashake held up a hand to stop Paul's anxious stream of questions.  Peter and Ace almost slammed into each other as they arrived in the green room.

Nefertina and Sohkarra rushed in from the other side, Sohkarra's face a mask of concern as she saw Menne's jacket in Gene's grasp.  "The night stalkers, the khabit... they have been here..."

"Tell me something I don't know," Gene snapped to Sohkarra.

"There's no need for that," Sohkarra shot back.  "We have little time to waste... Damn them... I thought that Nicholas..."

Her voice trailed off as she noticed Ashake's eyes on her.  Ace moved over to his lady, and asked, "You know what's going on here, babe?"

"Yes, unfortunately..." said Sohkarra, her blue eyes cold.  "But I thought... I thought the pact would prevent them harming... damn them!"

"What are you talking about?" Gene snapped, whirling on Sohkarra.  "If you knew something... why didn't you tell us?"

"It wasn't anyone's business. I didn't think they'd have the nerve to strike... after what happened last time they violated the Pact..."

(To read about the Pact that Sohkarra made with the Vampires, click here to read Beware the Night.)

"Tell me now," Gene growled low in his throat.

"Hey, lay off," Ace said, moving in Gene's way.  "Chill, okay?"

"Gene, back off," Peter said, moving nearby.  "Let's just calm down and talk about this reasonably.  Karra, what do you know, and will it help us figure out what happened to Menne?"

The Star Child stood resolute, his eyes distant, as he muttered, "Whatever it is, we had better act quickly.   I can feel the violence building, but it's distant... faint..."

"Vampires," Gene spat, glaring at Sohkarra.  "It's them, isn't it?"

"How did you know?" Sohkarra asked.

"Hey, does that really matter?" the Star Child asked.  "Right now wouldn't it be more useful to compare notes?  Like filling the rest of us in on what's going on?"

"He's right," said Ashake, glancing at all of them.  "Vampires.  Real and alive.  So what are you all going to do about it?"

"They had no right, I warned them not to violate the pact I made with Nicholas and his kind so long ago. Not to harm any necrotic such as myself or my friends," Sohkarra said.  "Even son, the Khabit were here, and took Menne with them... and if I read the mind touches they left on her jacket... it was two named Louis and Celeste."

"So what does this mean?" Paul asked.

"Menne once almost joined them, through some vampire named Levar," Gene muttered. "To be his Vampire consort... before he met some other chick named Nyx..."

"Levar is the master of Louis and Celeste," Sohkarra added, still surprised Gene knew the story of two Halloween’s past. "They serve his every whim... for doubtless he created them."

"Wait, a minute here," Peter scratched his head.  "You mean to say vampires... really exist... and they nabbed Gene's chick?  You've got to be kidding me!"

"I wish I was," Sohkarra shook her head.

"No matter, we must do something," Paul said.  "If you know about these vampires, Karra, what do you suggest?"

"Let me handle it..." Sohkarra said.  "It is a boundary Levar crossed long ago.  And they will not cross it again..."

"Excuse me, since when is it just your problem?" Gene asked.  "In case you haven't noticed, I've got just as much interest as..."

"Drop it, Gene," Sohkarra said.  "I will handle it.  There is no need to get all of you involved..."

"The hell there isn't..." Gene snapped, before Ace stepped in.

"Gene, let's hear what she has to say..."

"If she's dealt with them before, it makes sense," Peter added.  "I don't' wanna risk going up against something I hardly know about..."

"Even if a friend is in trouble?" Paul asked, holding Gene back as the Demon's eyes flared momentary red.

"Karra, what makes you think you have the say in this?" Ashake put in, having stood back till now.  "Menne's friends have as much right to help as you. And how do we know Louis and Celeste were acting under Levar's instructions? As I recall, Levar has no more interest in claiming Menne to be his consort now he has Nyx."

"Ashake..." Sohkarra breathed, her eyes widened as she tried to put down her temper, which was already flaring from unknown causes.

"Hey, knock it off," Ace said.  "Chill, babe.  This isn't the time and place for this."

"I will only say this once," Sohkarra glanced at Gene, and Ashake.  "This is something best left to experts.  Menne will be found, I swear.  And no others will be harmed..."
So saying she moved out of Ace's grasp, and nodded to Nefertina.  A light telepathic rebuff pushed Gene back before he could storm after them.  Ashake folded arms across her chest as she shook her head.

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Gene snapped as he watched the door slam shut.

"I've wondered that for centuries," Ashake sighed.

"Well she is a princess," Ace shrugged, before a sharp look from Gene shut him up.

"I say let her handle it," said Peter.  "If she does know about these... vampires..."

"She hasn't shared anything with us," Paul muttered, setting down into a chair.

"Guys, I trust her," Ace said.  "What can we do... against vampires?  Look Gene, I know you dig Menne and all... but shouldn't we..."

"Hell no," Gene snapped.  "Ashake, I've seen you do some serious stuff with your powers.  It would stand to reason that you know something about vampires... maybe?"

"As do you," she said.  "So I take it you're not going to listen to Sohkarra?"

"No," Gene said.  "Why should we wait when Menne is in trouble."

"What trouble would Menne be in?" Paul asked.  "Let's look at this logically."

"Having her blood drained, for starters," Gene muttered.  "Or worse... from what she had told me... it's revenge..."

"Revenge?" Peter asked.  "Whoa... hold on a minute..."

"She was once almost on the verge of joining their coven," Gene snapped.  "I bet this is personal.  And I have a nasty suspicion she won't be alive and well at the end of it. Even if Levar isn't the one that ordered this kidnapping, she mentioned Louis and Celeste had some personal hatred of her... because the last time their paths crossed, Menne's friends torched their lair."

"But what do we do about it?" asked Paul.  "How could we even find these vampires?"

"Hold on, I'm not going after vampires, even if they do exist..." Peter held up his hands.  "In case you hadn't noticed, we're not exactly equipped to deal with un-dead..."

"You are," Ace laughed, pointing to the cross around Peter's neck.

"He's right," Ashake said.  "If Menne means that much to you.  So what are you thinking Gene?"

"Number one, we track them down.  Number two, we go equipped..." Gene pounded his fist.  "You guys in with me, or out?"

"I'm in," Paul said automatically.

"Ace?" Gene asked.

"I don't like it, but you look like nothing else will convince you, curly," Ace shook his head.

"Peter?"

"I still think this is nuts," Peter muttered.  "But if those guys got into our concert right under our noses... who knows who else they might get."

"Ashake, any ideas?"

"You have but to ask," she smiled patiently.

"What about Sohkarra?" Ace asked.

"What about her?" Gene muttered.  "She said for us to keep out of it.  But that doesn't mean we have to like it! There must be a way of getting in there and getting Menne out without getting them onto us..."

A Small Enclosed Space:

Within the small space she drew up her hand to finger her neck, which was wrapped in a choker.  There were no bandages on her arms or legs, and that lightheaded dizziness set in again.  Pressing the flats of her palms to the ceiling, she pushed with all her remaining strength.  A crack of light expanded as she shoved the lid up enough to see out.  Candlelight gleamed, and she almost let the lid slip in exhaustion.  One last gasp of strength and she managed to kick the lid up and over.  Fresh air surged into her lungs, and she was never so glad to inhale it.

"What am I doing here," she muttered aloud, pushing her to sit upright.  Hooking her ankle over the edge, she struggled to the side, and spilled rudely onto the floor.
Faces turned towards her, and hands pulled her to her feet.  She struggled against them, but found she had little strength to fight, let alone stand.

"Do not fight us, sister.  Or it will be all the worse for you..."

"Let me go!" Menne croaked against the grasp of Louis and Celeste.  "You have no right..."

"We have every right.  You who sought to bring destruction upon us... you will meet your fate... for rejecting us..."

"I was seduced!  I didn't want to belong... not when my friends were in danger," Menne hissed.  Yet they were strong as they wrestled her towards the assembly.  Around her the lights gyrated and flickered, glowing a dull purple.  It seemed to be an apartment, or a used sound stage.  She shivered when she heard the sounds of "Time Warp" in the background.  How recently was it when she had first been introduced to this phenomenon?  Accordingly the waxy figures were arrayed in hooker tights and feather boas, others in tuxedos or ballroom gowns.  It was a movie house, converted into a Goth club.  Much as the place she remembered those 2 years ago.

"Milord!  She is awake!" came Louis voice.  A blond figure turned, to gaze into Mennehotep's eyes.

"Levar," she gasped, her voice tinged with anger.  "What is the meaning of this?"

"I might ask the same thing," Levar muttered, glancing at Celeste and Louis.  "Why do you bring this mortal among us?"

"We demand vindication, for wrongs done our Coven," Celeste said coldly.

"Do you know what this means, bringing her among us?" asked Levar.

"She is no longer one of them," said Louis.  "She is mortal!  Alive!  That means she does not apply to the pact that..."

"Still, you don't think that she will find her missing?" Levar asked, angrily.  "You will bring their wrath upon us all..."

"Was that not your intent, Milord?" asked Celeste.  "You asked for one who was a friend of the Princess, and we have brought her."

"I wished for any human female who was in the company of the Princess to be brought into our midst, not this one.  She is bound to a greater power.  Do you not see it?"

"Wait, someone tell me what the hell is going on here?" Menne demanded.  "If you didn't want me here, why am I?"

"My dear, I must apologize," Levar shook his head.  "These two acted in haste.  They had forgotten my instructions. I did not think that you would be alive."

"She was in the company of the Princess Sohkarra," said Celeste.  "And she is the one who brought near destruction upon us all..."

"True, but it was her friends the Guardians of Sohkarra and Rapses that did thus.  And it is an old argument..."

"Did we not free you from Nicholas' judgement, as your faithful disciples?" asked Louis.  "All we demand in return is vindication.  The blood of this one to sate our hunger..."

"Drink her blood, I cannot condone it.  Yet if she will lure bring the Princess here, all the more better..."

"You want Sohkarra to come?" asked Menne, dumbfounded.

"Yes.  For she has something that I desire.  Away from her guardians she is formidable, but not invincible.  And I beg to differ with her and Nicholas' judgement of me.  For my beloved was harmed when separated from me.  But you I intend to release... Mennehotep.  Or should I say, Menne Curie.  My... you have changed..."

"I don't understand.  If you..."

"We have known that Sohkarra is no longer with her mummy guardians.  And there were two friends that joined her on her quest to seek another love.  But I did not think that they would be mummies... or that you would be among them... only the human friends she has taken up with at that... Crisis Center..."

Her blood froze when she found Sohkarra's secrets revealed one by one. "But you Mennehotep, have the smell of mortality on you. How have you come to be alive, and no longer the bandaged swathed beauty I had known of two years past?"

"I don't know myself," Menne whispered, glancing at him with onyx eyes.

"I know you are a powerful alchemist, but not even you are capable of bringing the dead to life. Is there some secret you wish to tell me?"

"It is but a temporary potion, if you must know..." Menne said back, not realizing what she was saying.

"Oh," Levar smiled, coming close. "If it is temporary, then why do I smell the power of your blood? For the legends of the Knights Templar have record of such potions that resurrect the dead. But they have their distinct scent that cannot mask the aura of one passed from one life to the next. No my dear, you are well and truly alive. Though by whose power I know not..." Mennehotep shivered at this revelation. Ashake's philter of life was temporary, lasting a whole month to give her the full benefits of being alive. Surely this was what made her living now. Still was there the remote possibility the philter was permanent? Ashake would say no.   "If you know so much, you must know that I have powerful friends who will stop at nothing to find me..."

"If you mean Sohkarra, that is what I want," Levar said, shaking his head.  "You will go free, Menne.  I have no quarrels with you.  Merely with that upstart Princess who put me in a most unfavorable position..."

"I can't let you destroy her..."

"My dear I have no intention of destroying her.  She is merely the bait for an old foe... Nicholas of Falcon Crest.  He and I have a score to settle.  And if I have Sohkarra, I shall have him in the palm of my hand."

"You seek another vampire then?" Menne asked.  "Why?  He's older and more powerful then you..."

"Older, but not more powerful.  He has not the power of the Knights Templar behind him.  Nor the others.  And he has been intruding upon my affairs for far too long..."

"I want to see Levar," said a gruff voice.  The two bodyguards at the door looked at each other, then regarded the cloaked figure.

"What business do you have with him?" they asked.

"I'm this evening's entertainment," said a sultry voice.  They caught a glimpse of veils under the cloak, and saw a marble leg extend from beneath a jade and milk white cloak.  Blue green eyes fixed into theirs, and the mounds of an impressive chest filled beneath that cloak.

"Really?"

"Elspeth Coulter, bellydancer and general entertainer," she responded.  "I don't think your master would be happy if I was late..."

"Indeed.  Step this way to the back.  We will show you the dressing rooms..."

Another figure in a black cloak walked behind her, and let loose with a low growl when they moved to stop him.  "Who is he?"

"My bodyguard," Elspeth laughed, as she threw back her hood to reveal a fall of chestnut hair.  They were stunned at the delicacy of her neck's tapering nape, and the grace of her hips as they swayed under the cloak's fall.

Two eyes glared out of a patch of midnight black, and they could hear the clink of chains underneath.  A familiar scent wafted their nostrils, and they nodded at each other.

"All right, you may enter.  But ware, this is a special meeting.  Any interruptions may cost you dearly... and if we are not satisfied with your performance..."

"Oh, you will be stunned all right," Elspeth grinned, lightly fingering the one guard's chest.  He shivered at her touch, and moved to let her pass.  Behind her the other cloaked figure walked, a low snarl erupting from his throat.  Blood covered teeth seemed to gnash in the black light.

"We know, hands off the merchandise," the one bouncer said, with a nervous nod.  Whoever this vampire consort was, he was of a size and stature that seemed imposing.

Elsewhere in Los Angeles:

"He's not far away, I know it..." Sohkarra whispered to Nefertina.  Already the Princess had materialized on a side street of the city, and dropped to the point as a hound chasing her prey.

"Shouldn't we call for help?" Nefertina asked.  "Maybe Ashake could..."

"No," Sohkarra cut her off.  "This isn't her business.  Anyway, why would she concern herself with this?  It is my affair..."

"Sohkarra, are you sure..." asked Nefertina.

"Princess Sohkarra, Daughter of Amenhotep and sister to the Prince Rapses, it has been a long time," came a voice that made them both freeze.  Sohkarra whirled about, to see a black cloaked figure materialize before her out of the mists.

Nefertina glanced at her Princess, then back to the source.  He was handsome, his eyes bright with the centuries of experience as Sohkarra's were.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" he asked.

"Nicholas," Sohkarra whispered.  "Surely you must know by now..."

"Know what?" Nicholas asked.

"One of my friends... has been abducted... by Levar..." said Sohkarra coldly.

"How is this possible?" Nicholas asked, shock in his face.  "Have we not dealt with this wayward one?  Was not the rite performed..."

"But two of his followers abducted my friend! Louis and Celeste! And they are close servants of him! What other reason would they have?"

"Your accusations are indeed grave, if it is indeed Levar," said Nicholas.  "Have a care.  Do you have any proof that it is he who was behind this... attempt?"

"We don’t' have time for this!" Sohkarra exploded.  "My friend needs my aid!"

Levar's Place:

"So I'm bait for bait?" Menne asked, with a slight laugh.  "Isn't that a bit inefficient..."

"I agree it is tiresome.  I am tempted to let you go, and simply ask Sohkarra to come without a hitch.  But since these two have been so kind as to bring you to me, I may as well insist you stay for the night's entertainment..."

"But we demand..." said Celeste, biting her lip.

"Patience.  All things will be dealt with in their time.  Menne, I advise you partake..."

"I want little to do with you if it means my friends are..."

"Menne, Menne, Menne," Levar tisked.  "My mood is rather jovial.  As you are human now, you are rather a tempting morsel for my friends.  I said you will not be harmed, if I remain in good spirits.  And I have no intention of harming Sohkarra either.  Merely detaining her till her beloved Nicholas--my rival-- comes for her..."

"She won't agree to it... and she has no desire for Nicholas. Her heart is claimed by another..."

"Oh, she will," Levar smiled. "After the deal I will make.  But enough.  Sit and enjoy..."

It sounded more of a command then a request, and Menne reluctantly let Louis sit her at Levar's side.  To his left sat Nyx, the daughter of Rath and Chontra, whose green eyes fixed on Menne with surprise.

"Hah!  Long time no see!" the teen gasped.

"Nyx... do you know what' he's planning to do?"

"Yeah," Nyx said.  "It's all she deserves for taking my love away from me last All Hallows Eve..."

"Sohkarra never intended to harm you. But as you sided with Levar, what could she do?"

"Quiet please!  The evening's entertainment is here!" Levar shouted, clapping his hands.  They all settled behind banquet tables, Menne pushed firmly into the seat at Levar's
left hand by Louis' strong hand. Lights dimmed, and strange entrees were placed before all the vampires and consorts.  She smelled the tang of blood punch, and felt like retching.

"I have provided something else for you, my pretty," Levar said, and snapped his fingers.  Goblets of ordinary Chardonnay were placed before Nyx and Menne.  Thankfully they contained no blood. There cam the sound of finger cymbals clanking into the dankness.  A soft gold light coned into the center of the ring of tables, falling upon a diaphanous veiled figure.  Two creamy white arms raised and parted, and a pair of green gray eyes laughed behind a veil.  Gold coins rattled as her large hips swayed to a twanging sitar, played by a dark cloaked figure whose face was hidden.

Another figure tapped a drum, its face concealed behind a cloak.  Yet another figure played a tambura, keeping time.  The sitar player matched him, his bony fingers dancing over the strings with great ease.  The drummer paced him, and all voices died to a hush as the dancer's arms parted from her chest.  What a chest it was, hugged in an eagle bodice, wrap around, over thongs that danced under the veil skirt.  Though her face was masked, Menne could swear she recognized the owner of those eyes, and other attributes that swayed provocatively to the Indian strains.

Levar watched intently as she wended her way along the ring, stopping before one young vampire, laying her head in his lap.  He lowered his fangs to her neck, and she lightly stroked her cheek to his before snapping away.  Along the other patrons she wended, dropping into the lap of one, while pushing the hands away.  She fanned his face with the fringe on her overstuff bodice, before rolling away from his lap into the arms of his friend.

"What is she planning," Menne wondered.  Still she couldn't help but be entranced by the performance.  Where had she seen the other figures before?  That one pair of hands looked very familiar, especially since the multiple rings on the sitar player's hands flashed in the gold light.  Veils dropped one by one, revealing more of the dancer's shapely form.  Till finally the last veil dropped, as darkness claimed the room.  Hands clapped, and roars arose.  Again the lights rose, as the dark robed figure walked her around to Levar.

"Milord," she said, with a bow.  Her form was covered in bodice and thong, her flanks the only parts visible.  Still the veil crossed her throat, concealing her face.

"Milady... you do us great honor..." Levar smiled charmingly, kissing the offered hand.  The robed figure moved near Mennehotep, and she shivered as she could swear she saw the gleam of metal under the fall of cloth.

"Indeed.  But may I ask what the special occasion is for my being summoned?" she asked.

"You will know soon enough.  I have heard you sing as well.  Will you give us a song?" he asked.

"As you please," the dancer smiled, and moved off towards the rear of the movie house, her escort behind her. They wended their way behind the table where Mennehotep sat..  Dark eyes flashed under the hood, and Menne felt a hand clamp on her shoulder with a firm grasp.

"You will not be harmed," said a voice deep in her mind, and she shivered again.  A reassuring presence danced just beyond her reach, instinctive.  Why was it centered on the cloaked figure that moved with the dancer?  In a split second she realized it was Ashake!

Sure enough the figure in ripped jeans, fedora, and cropped T shirt returned on stage fifteen minutes later, her guitar slung over her back as she moved into the light.  The figures in black sparkly robes had exchanged their sitars for more conventional instruments; two electric guitars. Still they remained seated, except the drummer had moved behind a small drum set revealed behind the stage curtain.

Ashake began her song, strumming Lady Cies into an active pattern.  Another set of guitars strummed lightly under it, straining to keep up with the Celtic ballad.  At her cue, it snapped into a rocking guitar riff that made Menne shiver.  Why did it sound so familiar?  Or why did that drumbeat make her heart leap in time?

"What is she doing here?" Nyx suddenly asked Levar.  She saw the recognition in Menne's eyes.

"Who?" Levar asked, innocently. Ashake's gaze fell on Nyx, and suddenly she was as entranced by the music as he.

"Another song!" cried the throng.  Ashake nodded to the figure at her left, and he ripped into a rippling guitar solo.  Menne shivered again.  She knew whose hands strummed it, for a low whoop shot through the house. Every eye seemed riveted to the stage, to Elspeth's performance. Every second hung on her word, she had them so entranced. Was it Menne's imagination, or did she see a fourth black cloaked figure slowly wandering amidst the ring of tables? It approached to her table, closer and closer. She fixed her eyes firmly on Elspeth, hoping Levar did not see her wandering gaze.

Levar suddenly stiffened, his nostrils flaring. She saw the look of strange recognition in his eyes. Recognition mingled with fear. Suddenly he rose from the table.   "What is the meaning of this! There is one among us whose power rivals our own, but mocks us! One of the night, who cannot be hidden from his brothers..." he asked.

Everyone froze.  Ashake stopped her playing, frowning.

"Louis!  Claudia, Celeste!" Levar snapped his fingers. Two figures rushed up to either side of where he sat, and pulled a figure out of the shadows, struggling and kicking.  Menne felt hot breath on her neck as he was pulled right before the main table, and realized it was the elusive figure that had first escorted Ashake to the stage during her bellydancer routine.

"Take off that flimsy disguise!" Levar shouted.  Ashake moved ever so discernibly, but the guitarist to her left held her back with a hand on her shoulder.

"Not yet, you said," came his whisper.  Biting her lip, she nodded.  The hooded guitarist who had whooped pulled Ashake back towards the stage with the other musicians.
A low growl roared, and Celeste and Louis were thrust aside.  The cloak came off in their grasp, revealing a white-faced figure, encased in gleaming black and silver costume.  His dragon boots put his height well above them all.  A collective gasp echoed in the space.

"Holy... shit..." Nyx muttered.

Roaring, the Demon tossed the two captors aside with ease.  He strode over to Levar's table, his tongue lapping the blood, which stained the front of his breastplate.  Black eyes gleamed as demonically as any of the vampires in the room.  Gene Simmons of KISS walked as a man possessed towards Levar.

"Is this how you greet your guests?" Gene's low voice echoed, with that strange tinge that made Menne shiver.  "This is bad manners indeed..."

"The Demon..." Celeste choked out, her eyes wide.  "How..."

"Didn't he warn you this might happen?" Nyx began, before a look from Levar shut her up.

"To what do I owe the honor of your visit... sir? Why do you move in mystery as a thief in the night when you would be welcome to our table with open arms?" Levar asked, standing up to match height with the Demon.  As Gene towered over him, nostrils flaring, this was difficult.
"Simple. You have something I want.  And I'm willing to make a trade.  For allegiance with your community..."

"Gene... no..." Menne felt the words tumbling out of her mouth.  He glanced at her, dark eyes flashing with a strange fire.  The words died in her throat as she saw twin marks upon his neck, as he leaned close.

"Oh Ra... no..." Menne gasped.

"Who... is responsible for this?" Levar asked, with some amusement. "Who has made a Vampire of the Demon?"

"He... is one of us..." gasped Celeste.  "That is impossible..."

"He has the scent of us who stalk the night, a king of the nighttime world," said Louis, slowly as he picked himself up.  "I don't know how this is possible..."

"The vampire called Nicholas..." came Ashake's voice low and soft.  "I believe you are acquainted with him?"

"No way," Nyx shook her head.  "Not him..."

"A very interesting man," Gene licked his lips with that impossibly long tongue.  "Strange wonder I didn't see the effects till tonight..."

"Gene that's impossible... you can't be..." Menne stammered out, before he strode over to her, his stare fixing into hers.

"Isn't it, sweetheart?" Gene laughed in her face, his hand gripping hers achingly tight.

"No..." Menne shook her head, tears in her eyes as he withdrew and faced Levar.

"So, the mighty Demon is in our midst," Levar shook his head.  "This is a bonus I never intended.  But if Nicholas has made you what you are... then what are you doing here?"

"Simple.  You have something I want.  Her..." Gene said, poking a finger in the direction of Mennehotep.    Levar's cold blue eyes fell first on Mennehotep, then on Gene.  A smile spread slowly across his features.

"Ha... I get it now."

"First blood.  My choice," Gene said.  "It's the custom, isn't it?  For one that wishes to join in your... community."

"I protest!" Celeste snapped, standing up.  "If anyone is to have her it is I!  I demand vindication... for the wrongs once done us..."

"Patience, Celeste..." said Levar, holding up a hand, as the Demon whirled on her, nostrils flaring with a low growl in his throat.  "There is more then enough blood to satisfy the two of you... if our guest is in agreement..."

Menne couldn't believe this was happening.  "Ashake, do something! Are not the Fey opposed to these creatures of darkness?" Menne shouted to her, though her request was a faint whimper in reality.

But the Guild Guardian and Sidhe lady Ashake remained silent, her eyes cold as she said, "This is something I cannot interfere in.  The events must play out..."

"Doubtless Sohkarra will find you here... by now." Levar said patiently, folding his hands.

"You promised she wouldn't be harmed," said Nyx, grabbing Levar's arm.

"She will not be," Levar said in a low voice.  "If you are about to do what I think you are, Demon..."

"No damage will be done, save that which is necessary," the Demon grinned, licking his lips.  Menne was wrestled up from the table, kicking and protesting as she was pulled on-stage between two of the other minions.  Celeste seethed in anger as Louis moved forwards alongside of the Demon.

"I wanted Vindication... she should be drained to death..."

"Patience.  The Demon has the say," said Levar.  "Let the ceremony of sharing of first blood begin..."

Downtown LA:

Sohkarra levitated far beyond, turning her body to mist as she turned her perceptions into the night like a searchlight.  She materialized close by what appeared to be a movie house, but the elusive wisps of Menne's mind faded from her mind like moonbeams.

She realized she had no clear fix.  This was impossible!  For how could Menne's thoughts evade her probing?  Quickly she realized she had to stop or she might endanger Nefertina.  They both tumbled out of her transportation spell a half-mile from her final objective.

"I thought you had lost me," Nefertina protested as she felt herself solidify again.  "What went wrong?"

"I can tell you," came the voice ahead of them.  Angrily Sohkarra spun, her hand misting blue.  Her costume had taken on the sleek , black and copper body armor, minus the horseheaded visor.  Her face was covered in white paint with the eye of Horus and the ankh upon it, KISS style.

"Nicholas... what is the meaning of this?" Sohkarra demanded as her eyes dropped on the familiar figure.  At his shoulder were two other ancient vampires, one of them with a sleek black beard upon his face.

"I cannot let you go after him without proof," said Nicholas.  "Especially since you have not proven that he has escaped..."

"Are you blind not to notice he's awakened?" Sohkarra exploded.  "If you are so powerful surely you must know!  Who else would want to take my friend?  I sensed the malevolent thoughts of his disciples Louis and Celeste around my friend's jacket!"

Nicholas' eyes grew cold.  "But that is only Louis and Celeste.  We have watched them, and they have posed no threat against your kind."

"Menne is gone!" she snapped.  "She is my friend!  And Louis and Celeste drank her blood!"

"Your pact that I made with you long ago prevented my sort from harming those of your sort.  And I do not sense that this... Mennehotep is anymore among the undead..."

"She isn't," said Nefertina.  "She's alive, thanks to Tuthmosis, and Osiris..."

"Nefertina!" Sohkarra shouted.  "That may be so but she is my friend!  And she is thus under my protection!"

"Is she under your protection, or another's?" asked Nicholas.

"I can't waste my time arguing things with you," Sohkarra tossed her hand aside.  "If you won't help me, then begone with you!"

Instantly she and Nefertina vanished into the mists.  She felt the tug of a strange sensation trying to push her back, but she forced on ahead.  Her mind screamed in the search to find Mennehotep, but found nothing but fear, and the presence of another.

Levar's Place:

Menne kicked as Claudia and Louis wrestled her into place. Celeste followed at a distance, her eyes bright with the thirst for vengeance.  Rudely her hair was seized, her neck bent backwards as the fastenings on her gown were unlaced to reveal her throat.  With a low growl and a slight laugh the Demon moved forwards, his fingers extending.  Menne felt her silent scream choke in her teeth when she felt Gene's hot breath on her neck.

"How can you do this to me... after what we shared..." she whispered, her anger quaking her helpless muscles.  Inches from her neck he stopped, stroking that infamous tongue down her skin.

Slowly his nose moved only an inch from her ear, as he whispered, "Trust me... Queenie..."

"As you share in our blood, become one with us.  But do not drain this one dry..." came Levar's instructions.  "For she is not to be harmed..."

"Levar, you bastard!" Menne screamed.  The cry was choked short as Gene's teeth clamped on her neck, and she realized it was only a gentle nip.  Something warm seeped from between his jaws, dripping down the front of her gown.  She felt the suction at her neck, moaning as his arm slipped under her back.  Gently he cradled her there, as he continued to feast. Effortlessly he lifted Menne's limp form into his arms.

"Wait... there is something wrong," Celeste hissed, backing away.

"The blood is not... real..." Louis muttered.

A loud roar came from the Demon as he lifted his mouth from Menne's neck, and kicked the two vampires aside with a heavy dragon boot.

"Treachery!" Celeste screamed, and bared her fangs.  Gene roared, batting her aside as she leapt on him with slashing fingernails.  Gripping Menne in his arms, he whirled about, cloak flaring.

"Stop him!" Louis shouted, climbing to his feet.  Agony throbbed behind his forehead.

"Oh no you don't!" Gene laughed, and suddenly a sheet of flame belched from his throat, slamming Louis full in the face.  Screaming, he batted the flames aside with his cloak.  Whirling, he set down an arc of flame in a semicircle that separated the angry coven from him.  With a mighty leap, he cleared the circle of flames before disappearing into the forest of tables.

"Get them!" Levar shouted, his senses coming back online.

"We beg to differ!" came a loud shout.  Ashake whirled, tossing a bolt of levan energy towards them.  Black cloaked figures swarmed the stage, all set to attack.

"I don't think so," a gravely voice came from the drummer, as his boot slammed into a young Vamp to Ashake's back.  Black cloaks fluttered to the ground as Ashake's backup band disrobed before their eyes.

"Let's rock and roll!" Paul Stanley's voice echoed as the Star Child's fist pummeled into a nearby vamp male.

"All right!" came Ace's response, as he swung his silver boot at another.  Peter tumbled to his friend's rescue, landing a solid kick on Celeste's back.

"Normally I don't hit chicks, but I'm making an exception tonight," Peter muttered, as she slashed at him with long wicked claws.
Ashake whirled an odd staff from her sleeve, which separated into three section nunchukas.  She easy batted the vamps to her left and right as she cut a path through the coven.

"Any bright ideas, guys?" Peter Criss demanded, almost disappearing under a pile of bodies.  "I'm up to my armpits in vamps!"

Suddenly a loud scream came from the core of the pile.  They burst away from the Catman, screaming as they hid their eyes.  His silver cross glittered in the light of the torches and candles.

"You seem to be doing well on your own, Curly!" Ace laughed, and slammed a clove of garlic into Louis' mouth as he rushed by.  Paul stood back to back with Ashake, batting off their attackers.

"So far so good," Ashake breathed, glancing at a breathless Paul.

Outside Levar's Place:

Nicholas materialized out of the mist before them, Sohkarra shortly after him.  They rolled over, batting at each other.

"Don't stand in my way!" she cried.

"I cannot let you wage war on two that are not your responsibility," Nicholas countered.

"What gives you the right to say what is right for me and mine?" Sohkarra snapped.

"Princess... a little help if you don't mind?" came Nefertina's voice, as she struggled against the two vampires that had suddenly materialized behind them.  They all lay before a small movie house, which appeared to be down the street from several colorful clubs.  Half nude women peered poutily from neon blinking signs.

"Let her go!" Sohkarra cried, pushing Nicholas back with a solid push of flattened light.

"Not till you stop this pointless ranting," Nicholas snapped.  "And give me proof of these serious allegations.  I will not permit you to hunt down my kind without proof...."

"Do you need any more?  My friend is missing!"

"So, then we must concentrate on finding her..." Nicholas said.  "But if  you persist in these rumors that Levar is escaped..."

"He is here!" Sohkarra snapped.  "I can feel his mind!  Can't you?"

Back inside the Moviehouse:

"Stop them!" came Levar's voice hoarsely.

"But it's KISS you idiot!"  came Nyx's voice.  "Half of the coven is fans of them!"

"No matter!  They must pay for their interference..." said Levar with a regretful sigh.  "Take them down, but don't hurt them!"

"Easier said then done..." came Nyx's response as she leveled a magical bolt towards Ace.  Gasping, the guitarist tipped backwards as his hand flailed.  He vanished in an explosion of silver flares.

"What the heck..." Ace wondered, realizing he was halfway across the room.  He glanced at Paul, who was not having much luck with helping Ashake keep back the invaders.

Something snapped on in the Spaceman's brain.  Of course!  With a wry smile he jerked his thumb, and vanished again to materialize behind Paul.

"Holy..." Peter got out, as a low snarl came in his throat.  Was it his imagination, or was he feeling the strange pains erupting in his wrists and knees?

"Paul, we need to calm this group down, now," Ashake told him.

"How..."

"You're the Star Child," came Gene's voice from across the room, laced with fire and brimstone.  Already he kept his own attackers at bay with a sheet of flame from his throat.

"This can't be happening," Paul shook his head as he glanced to Ashake, who was disappearing under the wall of clutching hands.

"Now would be a good time!" Peter shouted, claws rupturing his gloves as he swiped a crimson streak on a young vamp's chest.

Ace gripped two older vamps, which had just reached his grasp.  Blue sparks crackled through their hair, setting it on edge.

"Concentrate, Paul!" Ashake shouted.  "Feel their emotions..."

Reaching deep into his mind, Paul forced out the sounds around him.  Slowly the amethyst energy built to a fever pitch as Ace and Peter kept the other vamps at bay.  The Demon leapt up, Menne in his arms as he seemed to soar over the angry forest of Goths.  Dragon boots landed into the tangle of hands that threatened to overrun the Sidhe.

"Too many..." Paul moaned.  A light purple glow fused into life as his eyes opened wide, the effect spreading like a wave over the assembly.  Fear and anger soothed away in a surge of indifference.  Paul's power erupted with a vengeance, searing everyone's eyes.  Those younger ones that could not shield their minds were dazed at the Star Child's gaze.  Hands slipped away from Paul, as they backed away.

"Leave us be," Paul's voice resonated.

Levar fought his way to the front, facing the Star Child.  Ace gripped Peter, and quickly appeared at Paul's side.  Gene helped pull Ashake to her feet to stand nearby his friends.

"Stop," Levar shouted to the remainder that were not captivated by Paul's gaze.  "Release my community..."

"Only if you let us go freely," the Demon's voice echoed.  "Otherwise... the results would be catastrophic..."

"Most of these are fans of your group," said Levar smugly.  "Would KISS endanger two hundred loyal followers?"

"No," Paul muttered, his gaze faltering.  "They are merely dazzled, not enslaved..."

"For I control them as well.  They would give their immortal souls to serve my whims...."

"We're at an impasse, then," Ashake said clearly.  "So what will it be Levar?  Destroy us, or let us go?"

"I have seen you before, Lady," Levar looked to her.  "But you will not let me know who you are.  So be it.  But if you are acquainted with our ways, you cannot interfere.  Sohkarra's pledge was not violated, for Menne is no longer a mummy..."

"Nor should you," said Ashake.  "For she is under the protection of the Four..."

"I tire of this, milord!" came Celeste's voice.  But she was stopped with a sharp look from Nyx.

"Can't we just forget the whole damned thing?" Nyx asked, coming up and standing by her love's side.  "They are KISS for crying out loud.  And Menne is cool..."

"Ace, get us out of here before they make up their minds," Ashake whispered to the Spaceman.

"Hold onto your platforms," Ace nodded, and jerked both thumbs violently backwards.  The world exploded in a flash of silver gold glitter.

When Levar came to his senses he discovered the smoking remains of his repast.  A wry smile split his face, and he glanced around.

"That was a major wash," Louis muttered.

"So, smart guy, where the heck is Sohkarra?" asked Nyx.

"That's what I want to know..." said Levar, scratching his nose.

Levar's Place, the Front Door:

Sohkarra' telekinetic force slammed into Nicholas, shoving him from her path as she rushed into the moviehouse.  Two bouncers attempted to lay hands on her, but were shoved aside with a wind force that tossed them halfway down the street in either direction.

Nefertina fought free of her captors, rushing after the enraged Princess.  Doors flew open under her power as she strode into the gloom and darkness.  Those that came to oppose her were rudely thrust aside by invisible hands into the repaneled walls.

"Levar!  I know you're here!" she shouted.  "Come and face me!"

Silence met her ears.  She strode into a pool of faltering light.  The signs of what seemed to be a major skirmish were being carefully cleared up by the Goth suited men and women.  Torches were being lit, and music pulsed into the gloom of incense.

At her shoulder stood Nefertina, who had just joined her.  "Are you sure he's here?"

"He's here." Sohkarra muttered, glancing around at the strangers who eyed her suspiciously.

"Princess, what a surprise," came a familiar voice from across the floor.

"Levar... you..." Sohkarra started, her hand misting blue as she crossed the floor in seconds.

"Stop," Nyx cried, throwing herself before her lover and the Princess.  A levan bolt exploded in Sohkarra's face, and the Princess countered with her own shielding.

Nyx drew her lance, summoning her armor with a quick gesture.  "I won't let you take him from me!" she snarled, weapons raised for attack.

"Little one, don't even try," Sohkarra warned, her hand glowing menacingly.  "I've had enough of people getting in my way..."

"Nyx, leave this to me," said Levar.  "Princess Sohkarra, what brings you here?"

"Don't pretend not to know," Sohkarra shouted, and Nyx moved aside reluctantly.  "Two of your kind abducted my friend Menne!  And I demand she be returned."

"But Menne is not here," Levar said calmly.  "You may search all you like, but she is not here..."

"Then explain this mess..." Sohkarra shouted.

"WE had quite interesting entertainment," said Nyx.

"Two of your community attacked and brought her here!" said Sohkarra.  "Louis and Celeste..."

"That is quite an accusation.  Can you prove it?" Levar asked.

"Enough of this," came Nicholas' voice as he strode into their midst.  "Levar... so you managed to evade my imprisonment.  This is enough for treason.  Why... and how?"

"I was unjustly punished," Levar said slowly.  "And I have not made a move against the Pact."

"Liar," Sohkarra snapped.  Nicholas raised a hand.

"I hope you have a good explanation for this."

"Two of my disciples did attempt to abduct a young woman and bring her here.  But she is not here, as you can see.  Celeste, Louis... come forwards..."

"So they were here!" Sohkarra snapped.

"Yes," Levar said.  "But it was not I that guided their actions."

Two others pushed out Louis and Celeste, fighting as they protested.  Nicholas eyes widened in anger and shock as Sohkarra looked on in confusion.

"You seek to blame someone for your friend's disappearance, here are the culprits," Levar said.  "Louis and Celeste.  Ask them if you will what they have done..."

"Traitor!" Louis shouted to Levar.  "You lying..."

"You leech..." came Celeste's voice.   "We brought her to you as you wanted..."

"Enough, I've heard enough," Nicholas snarled.  "Away with them!  Till I decide what is to be done."

Their faces contorted into fear as he snapped his fingers.  Their screams echoed in Sohkarra's ears as they were pushed into their coffins, which were nailed, shut and carried away into the darkness.

"Are you satisfied now?" Levar asked.  "By their denial they are guilty."

"The two who have done this thing are in my judgment," said Nicholas.  "Once I question them, I will mete out whatever punishment."

"But how do we..." Sohkarra asked, her eyes flaring.

"Princess, the night is fast approaching its close.  Your friend is not here, so why persist.  The accused will be put on trial."

"But Levar... he escaped..."

"I will deal with him as I have said before.  Now away with you!"

"No!" Sohkarra shouted.  Just then a light bluish mist came out of the shadows, and time stood still.  A jade and milk white cloaked figure stepped out into the throng, and regarded the vampires.

"You..." Sohkarra whispered as she recognized the wife of her scribe and tutor, the lady Ashake.  "What are you doing here?"

"Making sure you are all right," Ashake said calmly.  "And making sure you don't make a big mistake.  They said they would deal with this situation.  Let's go now before it gets any more worse..."

"This isn't your business..." Sohkarra snapped, at her wits end.

"Enough little one," Ashake snapped, and waved her hand as reality itself contorted.  Before long they were whisked far away from Levar and his stronghold.

The Next Morning:

Mennehotep felt someone carrying her out of the midst of fire and flame.  Slowly she moaned, glancing up at Gene's painted face.  He held her close, as she felt the world explode in silver sparklers.  Was it her imagination, or did Ace suddenly jerk his thumbs backwards as if hitchhiking?

There came a sick sensation that pushed her back into darkness.  Followed by what sounded like guitar strumming, acoustic.  Her head was pillowed on something soft yet firm.  Hands stroked over her forehead lightly, and she blinked up into familiar faces.

"Oh god I just had a terrible dream," she moaned, shaking her head.  Still her fingers traveled to her neck, to feel a rhinestone studded collar covering it.  She jerked with fear, sitting bold upright out of Gene's lap.

"Take it easy!" he said, gripping her as Paul moved to her other side.

"You're okay, you're safe!" Paul soothed, gripping her shoulder as she glanced wildly between him and Gene, who also gripped her shoulders tightly.  Both were wearing normal street clothes.  Paul was casual in silk shirt and leather pants, and Gene in t shirt and blue jeans.  She was stretched out on a king sized bed, of what appeared to be a hotel suite.

Gasping she glanced down at her bare legs, and noticed she was wearing an oversized T shirt with the band's logo splayed across her chest.  Other then that she perhaps wore nothing else.  Reality crashed in, when she realized it was the middle of the day, and the afternoon sun spilled into the large room.  Both men gripped her to them, her head leaned helplessly against Gene's chest as Paul stroked her shoulders lightly.

"Easy now..." Paul's voice came.  "You're safe.  Nothing to worry about..."

"What... what am I doing here?" she glanced up at Gene, then frantically at Paul. "The last thing I remember... the concert... and then... oh Ra..."

"Should we tell her?" Paul looked to Gene, who shrugged thoughtfully.

"Tell me what?  Damn it if this is some sick game..."

"Don't you remember?" the Star Child asked, arching an eyebrow with concern.

"Remember what?"

"Last night?" Gene asked.   Anxiously it all tumbled back, triggered by the sensation of her fingers on the collar.  Pulling it away she noticed two puncture marks, low down near her neck.

"It... did... happen... all of it..." she said.  Gene soberly nodded, eyes darkened with anger.

"You're not bothered by sunlight... that's a good sign," Gene said softly.  "So the effects were not permanent..."

There came a soft knock at the door, and she shifted with fear.  "I'll get it," Paul offered, and left her there on the bed with his friend, still confused out of her mind.
An exchange of voices ensued, and Menne recognized one as the voice of the band's drummer, who sheepishly glanced in over Paul's shoulder to the room beyond.

"Is she okay?"

"She's awake, if that's what you mean," Paul's soft response came.  "We don't know if there are any aftereffects.  Has Ash..."

"She's got her hands full right now.  Seems Ace's lady is giving her an earful..."

"Oh brother..." Paul groaned.  Menne saw him disappear out the door after Peter, shutting it behind them.

"What is this all about?" Menne pulled at Gene's arm.  "Where's Ashake, and the others?  You really were there last night..."

"One thing at a time, sweetheart," Gene urged.  "You only just woke up!"

"I thought you were a vampire, Gene! How did you fool Levar?"

Gene smiled winningly, "A little vampire blood goes a long way. Especially when it's thick on a vampire's personal cloak. It was enough to get me past those buffoons at the front door. They only smelled their own kind."

"And the blood was your blasted fake stage trick!" Menne groaned. "And I was so scared... I fainted? How embarrassing!"

"Clean away from the shock," Gene laughed, teasing her as he slipped a hand through her hair. She seized the collar of his shirt, yanking it down. There were no marks upon his neck at all! The hint of garlic reached her nostrils, as she realized  it upon his breath.

"You came after me," Menne glanced at him, her voice low and soft. "The last one that did that for me... almost became one with the Khabit. I could not bear that reality happening again..."

"It didn't, so why worry about it. You're safe, and that's what matters. Nobody screws with my friends and gets away with it. I made a promise, remember?"

"Thank you," Menne glanced up at him, and laying a firm kiss to his lips.  Gene pulled her close, adding his own contribution to the caress that burned through both their nervous systems as a wildfire. After a time they parted, dark eyes regarding each other with uncharacteristic shyness.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he said, lightly stroking a finger over her nose. No flowery speeches, no words of undying proclamation. Just a sincerity in those dark eyes that a promise had been kept. That was more then enough for both of them now.

Ace's Hotel Room:

"You had no right!" Sohkarra exploded at Ashake, who folded arms across her chest.  The room tingled with the tension of two powerful women.  Cool as Ice, Ashake sat calmly on the sofa as Sohkarra paced back and forth.

"Excuse me?" Ashake lifted an eyebrow.  "What was that?"

"You had no right!  I told you not to get involved..."

"Correction, Sohkarra.  You told KISS not to get involved," Ashake said in a low soft tone that drove Sohkarra mad.  "Those were your words were they not, 'leave it to me,' and I don't recall you saying anything about Gene not rescuing Mennehotep.  Simply that they were not to involve themselves in your dispute...."

"Levar was mine to punish," Sohkarra hissed.  "You had no right, Guild Guardian.  No right at all."

"Who said I did anything to 'punish' him?" Ashake shrugged.  "As I recall, Gene and KISS rescued Mennehotep.  No harm was done to either party.  Why are you so angry?  I would have thought you'd be glad that Mennehotep is safe and well..."

"That's not my point!" Sohkarra exploded again.  "And you know it!  They weren't equipped to handle something that was an affair of the house of Amenhotep..."

"Wait a minute, hold on!" Ashake waved her hand, climbing to her feet.  "What makes you think this involved you at all?"

"Levar attacked one of my friends," said Sohkarra.  "How can you presume it wasn't as good as attacking me?"

"Menne was not harmed," said Ashake.  "Not directly by Levar.  As I recall, he was less then thrilled at her presence there.  It was Celeste and Louis that did the deed of capturing her.  If you should be 'going after' anyone, it's them."

"They were acting under his command!  I know it!"

"Were you there to see?" asked Ashake.

"No!  By the time I tracked them down, they were gone!" Sohkarra snapped.

"And what kept you from rushing to the rescue?" asked Ashake, still keeping that icy calm.  "Had we waited for you action, Menne might have well been a vampire..."

"You know what happened!  Stop screwing with me!" Sohkarra shouted, raising her hands.  "Nicholas... he interfered..."

"As was his right.  You should be thankful that Celeste and Louis, the true culprits, were apprehended.  What have you to be angry about?"

"You interfered!  Like you always do!" Sohkarra countered.

"Sohkarra, Ashake, what in Ra's name is this all about?" asked Mennehotep, as she looked into the small hotel room.  Ashake glanced at Mennehotep who was still dressed in nothing but a KISS T-shirt, extra large, that came to her knees.

"Menne... you're okay..." Sohkarra said.  "Thank Isis..."

"No, thank KISS," said Mennehotep coldly.  "Is this how you thank our friends, by yelling your head off at them?  If it wasn't for Ashake I'd be demon lunch!"

"But she stopped me from..." Sohkarra snapped, then threw her hands up.  "Damn it, this is unfair!  Do you know what happened?"

"I should.  I was there, remember?" Menne said, folding arms across her chest.

"Menne, did Levar or did he not capture you?" Ashake asked.

"Louis and Celeste did, at his bidding..." she admitted, but then cut Sohkarra's angry response of affirmation off as she continued, "But it was a mistake.  They had hoped to capture one of Sohkarra's other friends.  Just so they could lure Sohkarra to his side..."

"You see," Sohkarra nodded.  "Levar was behind this!  To get to me!"

"But he only wanted you because he wanted Nicholas!" said Menne.  "He was willing to let both of us go, to get to Nicholas!"

"What? But why did Nicholas not know that Levar had reawakened?" Sohkarra asked, struggling to understand.

"Are you sure," Ashake said calmly.

"That's right you two.  To get to Nicholas!  If you would have just stopped shouting, I would have explained it all..." Menne threw up her hands in exasperation. "And also, you might have noticed that Levar's learned a few tricks about blocking other Vampires from finding out his whereabouts. Especially with his Knight's Templar sorcery and the help of an Egyptian sorcerer. Namely Nyx."

"Menne, I'm sorry," Sohkarra said, lowering her head.

"You should be," Ashake added.

"No," Menne said, glancing over at Ashake.  "Please don't.  Don't make it any worse then it is.  Just... just... stop it both of you... before I go mad..."

"What..." both asked, glancing confusedly at Mennehotep.

"Sohkarra, I appreciate you were concerned for me, but for Ra's sake do you have to be so dramatic.  And you Ashake... confused the hell out of me.  I didn't know who was foe or friend back there."

"You're still here to argue, aren't you," came Ashake's reply.

"I don't want to talk about it," Menne said.  "I've got a splitting headache..."

"Let me..." Sohkarra held up her hand.

"No," Menne said, turning to her.  "I can take an aspirin.  Just... let me be... don't try to solve my pains... I can do it myself..."

"What's gotten into you?" Sohkarra asked.

"I don't know.  Life?" asked Menne, glancing at the Princess.  "Look, you can't solve everyone's problems by a wave of your hand.  Just like you couldn't be sure you could save me by running off in a huff.  People could have been hurt..."

"None was," said Sohkarra.

"That's her point exactly," said Ashake.

"Thank you.  Now if you'll excuse me, I need a very long nap..."

"But you just woke up..." Sohkarra said as Mennehotep left the room.  Ashake shook her head and laughed to herself, moving away as Sohkarra set off after Mennehotep.

"Children," she muttered.  Neither one would know the true significance of the face-off between the two vampires.  Or the greater pattern the Four had taken.  The Elder could still focus their powers well within their hosts.  That night more then ever the powers of the Four had surged in their human hosts without thought but on pure instinct.  Showing that they were still in harmony, neither controlled by their Avatars, or dominated by the human desires to master such power.

The selection had been made, for the second coming.  The Demon had made his choice, as had the Celestial.  Four unique women caught in the grasp of fate were dancing out the dance of eternity that had been performed so many times before.   Already the pattern had been set as it should have been, and the cycle would continue.  All the pieces lay in place for the next move.  Whether the Four would face Levar's community or the Nightstalkers of Nicholas was up to Fate.  Nevertheless the seeds had been sewn for the battle to come.

The end for now, but only the beginning....