Yorke awoke to what sounded like bacon sizzling in a frying pan and the smell of cooking meat. He thought his mum was making breakfast, but as the heavy fog of sleep drifted away from him he remembered his mother had been dead for over two centuries. Just one second after that he realized what was cooking was his hand.

"Holy Jesus," he screamed, pulling his hand away from the light trickling in through the window. The blinds had been shut and the curtain drawn tight, but a sliver of light had managed to cut through the modest defenses laid against it.

The flames that had engulfed Yorkes hand were snuffed out once he took it from the light, but more than enough damage had been done. Most of the flesh had been melted to the bone. "Aw, fuck," Yorke said, shaking his head. The pain was immense, but hed felt worse. Much worse.

Beside him another body stirred. His head snapped to the side. "Baby," the women said, "Whats wrong?"

"Nothin, girl. Go back to sleep," he said, shoving his scorched hand beneath the sheets. He wondered what the girls name was. Sara, perhaps. Or maybe Jenna. He really had no fucking clue either way.

Now she was sitting up in bed. With last evenings makeup smudged and her hair a tangled mess, Yorke wondered what hed saw in her the night before. Probably an easy fuck, which had evidently been true. He didnt remember the events exactly. Someone hed drank from must have been seriously fucked up.

"It smells like somethings burning," she said, a slight look of alarm spreading in her glassy eyes.

"Yah, somethins gonna be burnin alright. Your ass if you dont shut the fuck up and go back to sleep," he said with a snarl.

She flinched, but obediently lay back down. Yorke took the long way out of bed, crawling over her to make sure he didnt run into that beam of light again, taking the sheet and rolling it around his hand as he did so.

Once he got inside the bathroom he unraveled It, holding his hand in front of his face. Already raw muscle had formed around his fingers. Wouldnt take long before his hand was back to new. He looked over his shoulder toward the room where the girl was laying, and considered sucking her dry. It would speed up the healing process a bit, not to mention help him avoid the annoyances of getting rid of her without killing her.

He sighed, shaking his head. Couldnt do it. Corinne would go nuts. He didnt have a clue what he and the rest of the crew had done last night as it was. If theyd caused too much trouble, Corinne would be all over them as it was. It just wasnt a good idea to create a body right now.

He ripped a part of the sheet off and tied it around his hand, making a rough bandage. Had he been mortal it wouldnt have cut muster to stop any bleeding, but all he needed it to do was keep his mending fingers from public view.

With his free hand he adjusted his boxers, chuckling to himself. Since hed been alive, really alive and able to walk freely in the sunlight, one thing hadnt changed. Almost always woke up looking to fuck. Or at least a part of him did. He considered running through the girl again but decided against it. She didnt look worth the trouble.

He wondered if she was thinking the same thing, and looked into the bathrooms mirror. He doubted she would be. He pulled back his teeth and gave himself a toothy grin. "Couldve been a model, been born just a couple hundred years later," he said. "Well, maybe I couldve been," he muttered to himself, "Just so long I was fixed up right."

He ran a hand back through his hair, though he didnt currently have much hair to run through. Most of it was shaved to the skin, except for a thin line in the center. It was just a trace of a mohawk, not very thick and not very long.

With his undamaged hand, he opened the bathroom door and walked back into the bedroom. The girl, whatever her name was, was pulling her jeans up over her ass. No panties, of course. Yorke did attract a certain sort of woman, he had to admit. She turned to face him, snatching her purse from the floor of the motel. "I really got to go. My Mom is going to be pissed I didnt come home last night."

"Whatever you say, doll. Maybe Ill run into you again, eh?"

She smiled. "God, I love that accent. I left my number on the nightstand." She blew him a kiss and opened the front door.

Yorke snarled, looking away and shutting his eyes until she shut the door behind her. Looking at sunlight wasnt as deadly as being in it, but it didnt make for a good time anyway.

Yorke looked to the nightstand to see if the girl really did leave her number. It was there, scrawled on a receipt. "Mommys gonna be pissed, huh?" He said to himself. She probably wasnt much older then eighteen, if even that. "Probably doesnt like you hanging around older boys. Two hundred and some odd years and eighteen, thats quite a fuckin gap."

He glanced to the mirror above the dresser. "Well, least I dont look two hundred." In fact, he barely looked eighteen himself.

"Just look like a God-damned good for nothing punk, thats all." He puffed his chest out, laughing. He wasnt very well muscled, and with the multitude of ink on his thin frame, he did indeed look like a no-good villain.

"But even no good villains need their fuckin sleep." A glance to the alarm clock on the dresser told him it was only one in the afternoon. He had a long time before he could venture out again. He thought first about going to bed but once more looked down to his boxers. Maybe Andolin and Talia might be able to offer him some relief on that.

He walked to the door leading to the adjoining room and opened it up. The Simpsons was blaring on the TV. That was the first thing he noticed. The second sound his ears recognized was the rhythmic squeaking of bedsprings.

Talia was on top of Ando, her naked hips rising and falling steadily, her palms planted on his chest. Her black hair, shaven almost as close to her skull as Yorkes own, without even a mohawk to set it off, was damp against her scalp. Yorkes eyes moved down to her swaying breasts for an idle moment, the silver rings that pierced either of her nipples reflecting the light from the television, as did matching ones in her ears, nose, and brow.

Talia laughed at something on the TV, and then caught sight of Yorke. She looked to him, a wide grin spreading over her dark mouth. "Hey, Yorky!" She exclaimed, raising one hand off of Andolin to give him a small wave, her hips never slowing.

"Allo, Tal. Dont call me Yorky," Yorke said off-handedly.

Andolins head had been slightly raised, his gaze fixed on a gameboy as his fingers rapidly moved across the buttons and direction pads. He lowered his head now, letting it hang off the edge of the bed. His long, dark brown hair hung almost to the floor. "Buenos dias, you fuck," he said with a grin of his own.

"Hows the game goin, mate?" Yorke asked.

"Oh, its fuckin hard, brother! But dont worry, Ill beat it."

"Wasnt worried, pal," Yorke said. "Didnt you two bring a girl home as well?"

Talia looked away from the TV again. "Mm, yah. Shes in the bathroom."

"Huh," Yorke said. "Be right back."

He turned away from the two and walked to their bathroom. The door was slightly cracked, but Yorke didnt hear any noise coming from within. He shook his head, already knowing what to expect when he opened the door.

Sure enough, a thick puddle of blood was formed on the linoleum outside the bathtub. Above it hung a limp wrist, a trail of blood running from where it rested against the porcelain down to the congealing lake Yorke had first seen. "God damnit now," he said, turning around and shutting the bathroom door behind him.

The side view of Talia impaling her sweat-soaked body on Andolins oblivious self would have probably been enough to take anyone elses mind off of the situation at hand. But this wasnt anything he hadnt seen a thousand times before. Neither of the two said anything as he stared at them, so he grabbed a lamp from the nearby table and flung it at Talias head with enough force to kill a mortal, and at least cause a vampire a headache.

She must have seen it coming from the corner of her eye, because she ducked in a flash, looking at Yorke with a wounded expression. "Whatthefuck?" She said quickly, her voice suddenly moving a mile a minute in her old New York accent, which was usually undetectable. She sounded not unlike the first time hed ever heard her speak, when Corinne and Yorke had recruited her in the early eighteen hundreds.

"What the fuck, mate?!? What the fuck?!? I told you two assholes not to kill anybody last night!"

Ando looked away from his gameboy once more, back at Yorke. "No worries then. We killed her this morning, friend," he said.

Yorke stared at him, trying to maintain his scowl but breaking into a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, very hilarious," he said shaking his head. "Dont you idiots listen? Corinne said no killin, not for awhile."

"Come on, Yorke. We gotta eat," Andolin said.

"Not every fuckin day you dont!" He pointed to the girl. "Im sure this dead bitch aint gonna bring nothin down on us, but we gotta keep a low profile anyway. We cant afford to draw any attention to ourselves, and who knows what might get noticed. Every Reaver from here to Hell is lookin for us, and if they find us thatll be the end of The Suicide Fools."

Talia pouted at him, sticking out her lower lip. "Im sorry, Yorky. Why dont you come join us?" She lowered her front down a bit, sliding her palms off of Andolin and resting her weight on her elbows on either side of him. He had to tilt his head now and move his gameboy a few inches over to the left.

Tals ass stuck up into the air slightly, and Yorke shook his head. "You two are fuckin useless, you know?" As he said it, he slid his boxers down his thighs, and walked over to the two of them. "Im still mad, I hope you know," he said as he crawled into the bed behind Talia.

Several hours later night was fast approaching, the vengeful light of the sun fading into more tolerable levels. Yorke and his two compatriots lay on the bed, still naked but with all desire spent. Yorkes arms were crossed behind his head, his eyes shut. He wished hed gotten a bit more sleep, but that just wasnt in the cards for him today, it seemed.

"Where is Corinne, anyway?" Andolin asked, tossing his game from his hand and onto the motels well-worn carpet.

"Fuckin your Mum somewhere, chum," Yorke said.

Andolin laughed. "Dug her up and everything, did she?"

Talia lay between them, her head between their feet. She rose up slightly on her elbows. "Seriously, Yorke, where is she?"

"I aint at liberty to tell the likes of you two," Yorke said.

"Cooooome on," Talia cried, kicking him in the shoulder.

Yorke laughed. "Alright, I dont know where she is. She had to make some calls last night. She was sposed to come back here, but I guess she got tied up."

"I thought only you got to tie her up, Yorke?" Andolin said.

"I didnt mean literally, you uneducated Spaniard bum," Yorke said.

"Whos she calling?" Talia asked.

Yorke shrugged, still staring up at the ceiling. "No clue. Somebody who could help us, I guess. Someone who could use a few bruisers in their crew."

"Another Maladar set?" Andolin asked.

Talia laughed bitterly. "Get a clue, Ando. No Maladar will touch us after Corinne iced Dietrich."

"She didnt have no choice about that. Sauls man wanted to use Corinne as a piece of bloody meat. Woulda disrespected herself and all of us if she hadnt cut his fuckin heart out," Yorke said.

"She should have just done what he fucking wanted, Yorke," Talia said. He didnt look at her, but he felt her eyes burning into him. "Tam and Nevrek are dead because of her."

Now Yorke rose up on his elbows, staring right back at Talia. "You wouldntve let that piece of shit run through you if he got the whim, so I dont want to hear any fuckin lip about Corinne."

Talia fumed, her nostrils flaring. "Fuck if I wouldnt, if it would mean keeping shit the way it was. Our crew is decimated and were all on hit lists. Were supposed to be killing for the Maladar, not being killed by them."

"Were all going to end up in graves because of her," Andolin added.

"Shes fucking crazy, Yorke," Talia said before Yorke could rebuke Ando.

"Maybe she is," Yorke said hotly. "But shes our boss. You shouldnt talk bout her like that."

"Shes a crazy fucking bitch, Yorke," Talia said.

Yorke punched her square in the nose. He heard it shatter as his fist connected with her face. She gave out a short scream, more of surprise then pain. "Whud du fuh?" She said, holding her bleeding nostrils.

Andolin moved beside Yorke, the sheets twisting around his legs as he got into a kneeling posistion. He growled and punched at Yorkes face.

Yorke ducked his head, and Andolins fist only glanced off the top of his head. Yorke turned slightly and punched Andolin in the groin. Ando grabbed at himself and rolled off the bed, groaning loudly.

Yorke turned back to Talia. He just barely caught the glimpse of metal headed in his direction, and raised his hand. The knife pierced his palm on one side and came out the other, driving toward his chest. "Aw fuck, Talia! Why you gotta start using fuckin weapons?" He grabbed at her wrist with his unmauled hand, and she kept trying to push it toward him, her bloodied face twisted into a look of anger.

"Kids," Corinne said, her English accented voice drifting just above the ruckus in the room, "Stop."

Talias head whipped toward the door first, and Yorkes followed a second later. Corinne stood just inside the doorway, leaning against the frame. Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts, a Union Jack spread lewdly across the rounded curves of her chest, the t-shirt obscenely tight. The bottom of the shirt was tattered, parts of pale, taut belly visible above the studded-belt she wore low-slung on her shapely hips, the leather and metal just tight enough to keep faded denim jeans from falling.

Even with a knife sticking out of his hand and pain screaming throughout his body with every beat of his heart, he felt himself smile at the sight of Corinne. "You look pretty tonight, boss," he said.

"Thanks, Yorke," she said with the slightest hint of a smile on her black-painted lips. She turned her head slightly to the side, looking at Talia. Her mohawk fanned out on top of her head, giving her almost another foot of height in hair alone. The last couple of inches were dyed blood red, which to Yorke made her hair resemble the head of an axe. "Tal," she said, "Take the knife out of Yorkes hand, will ya?"

"Yeah," Yorke said, "Take it out."

"He broke my nose," Talia said.

"And punched me in the fucking balls," Andolin said, pulling himself halfway onto the bed from the ground.

"Im sure you two gave him a proper reason to administer a little beating. Now take the fuckin knife out of his hand, Talia, before you get me pissed," Corinne said.

Talia still didnt take it out. Corinne pulled her lips back from her teeth in a dangerous grin, the white of her fangs standing out starkly against the midnight black border of her mouth. "Tal, if you wanna challenge my leadership, then youre gonna need that knife to even have a hope, so either way, pull it the fuck out."

At last she pulled it free, mumbling "Sorry." Yorke felt a distinct relief, the wound in his hand beginning to close at once.

Corinne shut the door behind her. "How was last night, Yorke? Did you three keep everything nice and quiet?"

Yorke looked down. "Mostly so. These two got a little frisky with some local bitch and killed her. It was here though, so not really a big deal."

Corinne nodded. "Alright, not too bad. Better then I expected from the lot of you savages," she said with a toothy grin.

"So, whats the news?" Andolin asked. "Did you find safe harbor for us, or must we keep trying to live beneath the notice of our old comrades?"

Corinne looked back to Yorke, raising slender brow. "Told em what I was up to, eh?"

Yorke nodded. "Figured it didnt really matter, one way or the other."

Corinne paused, then nodded. "Suppose not. As a matter of fact, Ando, I might have. Got to have a little meeting tonight, to get the details settled."

"We comin?" Yorke asked.

Corinne shook her head. "Nah. Gotta handle it myself. Just wanted to check on you three fools, first. Gotta head out now though. These people wont be kept waiting. Yorke, walk me to my car."

"Right-o," Yorke said, and slid from the bed, wiping the drying blood from his hand and onto the motels sheets.

He slipped his boxers back on, and figured that was suitable enough dress. The motel wasnt exactly high class, and when they stepped outside nobody looked in their direction. Yorke didnt know the name of the town, but it had a run-down feel to it. Not the sort of place where anything much caused brows to raise. He followed Corinne to her vehicle, and she leaned against the drivers side door.

"Who ya meetin?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"Dangerous folks," Corinne said. "More dangerous then the bloody fuckin Reavers, anyway."

"Thats good," Yorke said with a nod. "Guess were finished with the Maladar, huh?"

Corinnes upper lips curled in a sneer. "Yah, the bastards. Like three hundred years of good service down the drain because one stupid bloke couldnt keep his fuckin hands off my tits."

"Cant really blame him. Theyre pretty fuckin nice," Yorke said.

Corinne laughed. "Maybe so, but they and the rest of me are for the likes of you and my set, not public fuckin property."

"I know," Yorke said. "I agree with you. So do they. Theyre just scared of dyin. They aint been around long enough to realize were already fuckin corpses walkin around on borrowed time."

"Im gonna do my best to make sure that time doesnt run out soon, Yorke. Im trying to cut a deal with some dangerous people, though. If I dont come back tonight or tomorrow, then itd probably just be best if you killed em yourself. If any Maladar catch them, there ends aint gonna be pretty. Theyre too stupid to survive, but you might make it if you arent weighed down."

"You dont come back, we might as well all die. I aint got no reason to keep goin, anyway," Yorke said.

Corinnes smile was soft. "Now, now, dont get too starry eyed, Yorke. Killing is your first love, and Im just a second. Youll still have some fun without me."

"Maybe so," Yorke said. "But dont die, all the same."

Corinne leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. "Ill do what I can. Now go back to them, and make sure they dont do anything too stupid. Ill probably be fine, but either way well all be worse off if the Reavers figure out where we are. Keep them on a fuckin leash."

"Ill do what I can," Yorke said, echoing Corinnes words. She nodded once, and then got into her car.

Corinne sat on a bench in the park, just where the woman shed called had told her to be. Beside her sat a corpse. Should anyone have passed by they most likely would have thought the man to be a drunk due to the way his mouth gaped slightly open and his head lolled against his shoulder. Corinne, however, doubted that anyone would pass by.

It seemed that the park hadnt been maintained for years. The path shed taken to the bench was fast becoming overgrown with weeds and the areas surrounding the path were even worse. The man shed slain had attempted to mug her, which made her suppose that the park had become a dangerous place for mortals. She would have liked to stalk the dangerous men who preyed upon weaker humans here, if she had the chance. Not for the righteousness of it, of course, but for the sport.

But that wasnt her luck today. She was not a predator stalking game in the urban decay. Today she was a beggar. She couldnt have bared to have Yorke, let alone Tal and Ando see her like this. But she was their leader. She would have to save their lives if she could, and she saw no other way to do it then this. The Reavers alone were much too powerful for her weakened crew to handle, and with the rest of the Maladar eager to see her dead if not actively seeking out that goal, she was left with little choice.

She wondered how long shed been sitting on the bench. It seemed like hours. She looked at her wrist. The faintly glowing arms on her watch said it wasnt quite twelve yet. Corinne snorted. "The witching hour," she said to herself. But then, from what shed heard about the Queen, such things were her style. "What am I getting myself into?" She asked herself.

"More then you probably imagine," A voice cut through the silence, drifting to her ears from behind her.

She stood up and whirled around. A solitary figure was emerging from a small cropping of trees. She dimly recognized the voice from the phone. The face though she could never forget. It was a perfect beauty, just as most servants of the Queen were said to be. A dark face set amongst waves of thick black hair. Shed seen it only once before, in France during the last great war the humans had fought against each other. Shed tried to recruit Corinne then, but at the time shed resisted. Not now.

"Najiyah," Corrine said. "Servant of the Queen Galya." These were not questions, but statements.

"Corinne De Vol," she replied. "Slave to the heretic Saul."

Corinne shook her head. "No longer."

Najiyah nodded, stepping further from the darkness. She was garbed in a brilliant white dress, the fabric seeming bright even in the darkness. It was loose and flowing, and seemed archaic to Corinne. "So you said last night. You no longer serve Saul. You wish to serve her majesty."

"Right, yes," Corinne said, nodding.

"You do not wish to serve her majesty, not truly," Najiyah said, closing the remaining distance between herself and Corinne. The woman raised her hand, running one finger down the side of Corinnes face. "You want her to protect you, this is all. You do not believe in her as you should, I know it. I can feel your heart. It is disgraceful."

Corinne didnt know what to say. She opened her mouth, but found no words, and so shut it abruptly. She looked away from Najiyah, and wondered if she should run. The Queens agent was silent. "So, what then?" She asked slowly, hearing her voice choke. "Gonna kill me?"

Najiyah let loose a small laugh, an odd sounding thing in the depreciated park. "Oh, the tales they must tell about Queen Galya. No, Corinne. The queen does not wish you dead, even though you are not yet a proper servant for her. The queen wishes for all of our kind to be brought to her bosom. She is a loving master, and loves even a wretch such as yourself."

Corinne raised her head. Najiyah said, "You must be aware, however, that there is no turning back. The queen does not blame all of the wayward children of the night for failing to join her as of yet, but she does not accept treachery or betrayal. If you come to our fold, then you may never leave."

Corinne nodded. She had no choice. "Ill serve the queen from here on out. Ive got no other choice."

Najiyah nodded, a faint smile on her mouth. "Then it is my pleasure to welcome you to the ranks of glorious Queen Galya."

Corinne was silent for a moment. "Thats it? Always heard the Queen was a more, eh, ceremonious type."

Najiyah laughed. "Oh, there shall be ceremonies. But not now. Though the Queen has allowed me to accept your plea to serve her, she by no means knows or trusts you intimately enough to formally allow you into our ranks."

Corinne snarled. "How the fucks that help me, then? Me and my kids got killers comin after our heads right bloody now!"

Najiyahs smile faded. "Calm yourself, Corinne. The Queen knows your woes. She has already prepared a safe place for you and your children. Another of her servants, like you, is not yet prepared to properly be joined with us. He has been instructed to take you in. Join with him and you shall be serving the queen, and pleasing her well."

Corinne nodded. "Alright, whatever." She shook her head, cursing herself inside her mind. Shed just sold herself to the Queen. Maybe she should have just let Dietrich have his fun. Shed at least still have had her freedom. Ten seconds into serving the Queen and she already had marching orders.

"No, Corinne," Najiyah said. "You were right to kill him. You must never allow someone to take from you what is not theirs. The Queen may have a hand in your destiny now, but she is righteous. In time you shall see it. She just wants what is best for our kind. And what is best for us now is for you to join Jeremy Drake in South Haven."

"You read my mind," Corinne said. "Didnt know anyone could do that, not really."

"There are many things you dont know, Corinne. But if you serve her majesty well, you will learn them in time."

"Maybe so. Who is Jeremy Drake and what is South Haven?"

"Drake is a vampire of great use to us. South Haven is his dominion. He is engaged in war with the Sept, who wish to take it from him. The Queen does not desire for this to pass. Aid him. He will put you and your soldiers to war."

"War is what we do best," Corinne said with a nod. Perhaps serving the Queen wouldnt be too bad. But really it didnt matter. So long as her brood was safe, she was pleased. "What if the Maladar come for me in South Haven? Can this Drake stop them?"

"South Haven will not be taken by Maladar nor by Sept. I can not assure you shall live one way or the other, but your death is not a forgone conclusion. We have spoken enough. Go to South Haven, and prove yourself worthy of the Queens love."

Corinne nodded, and then Najiyah was gone. She moved quicker than Corinne had ever seen, and she wondered how old the vampire was. She scratched a portion of her shaven scalp. "Whatd I just get us into?" She asked herself for the second time in the night. She scratched her head again, and then went to her car and drove back to the motel. A night later she and the rest of the brood were on their way to South Haven, and to whatever future waited for them there.

ROTAX, CRITICAL MASS, PANTERA Deisigned by Tom Anderson knives ©2000-2005 Master Cutlery, Inc.