AUTHOR'S NOTE:  This chapter takes place AFTER Gigs' next chapter(s) covering
                      the hunt for Tinkler.  The only reason I'm not waiting to post this is
                      because I may lose my phone tomorrow and not be able to after that. --Tam

                      Disclaimer:  You know by now which characters belong to LKH...I'm just
                      borrowing.  The lyrics to the song "Tomorrow We'll See" are copyrighted 1999
                      to Sting and are used without permission.

                      Rating: R (didn't get as graphic as I had feared earlier)

                      IN A FOG, BUT TOMORROW WE'LL SEE

                      The streets are wet
                      The lights have yet
                      To shed their tawdry lustre on the scene
                      My skirt's too short
                      My tights have run
                      These new heels are killing me

                      My second pack of cigarettes
                      It's a slow night but there's time yet
                      Here comes john from his other life
                      He may be driving to his wife
                      But he'll slow down take a look
                      I've learned to read them just like books
                      And it's already half past ten
                      But they'll be back again

                      Headlights on the rainy street
                      I check, make sure it's not the heat
                      I wink, I smile, I wave my hand
                      He stops and seems to understand
                      The small transaction we must make
                      I tell him that my heart will break
                      If he's not a generous man
                      I step into his van

                      They say the first is the hardest trick
                      And after that it's just a matter of logic
                      They have the money I have the time
                      Being pretty's my only crime
                      You ask what future do I see
                      I say it's really up to me
                      I don't need forgiving
                      I'm just making a living

                      Don't judge me
                      You could be me in another life
                      In another set of circumstances
                      Don't judge me
                      One more night I'll just have to take my chances
                      And tomorrow we'll see

                      A friend of mine he wound up dead
                      His dress was stained the colour red
                      No next of kin no fixed abode
                      Another victim on this road
                      The police just carted him away
                      But someone took his place next day
                      He was home by Thanksgiving
                      But not with the living

                      Don't judge me
                      You could be me in another life
                      In another set of circumstances
                      Don't judge me
                      One more night I'll just have to take my chances

                      And no it's just not in my plan
                      For someone to care who I am

                      I'm walking the streets for money
                      It's the business of love, "Hey honey
                      C'mon, don't leave me lonely, don't leave me sad
                      It'll be the sweetest five minutes you ever had"

                      Don't judge me
                      You could be me in another life
                      In another set of circumstances
                      Don't judge me
                      One more night I'll just have to take my chances
                      And tomorrow we'll see

                      "Tomorrow We'll See" -- Sting

                      My head felt fuzzy.  Everything seemed muted.  Vision was foggy and grey.  A
                      voice was calling me, but it was hard to make out the words.  I strained,
                      concentrating on the sound.  Finally I made out a shadowy figure through the
                      fog.  It sounded like he said, "Where are you?  Ma rose d'acier?"

                      Asher.

                      I couldn't understand why he couldn't find me.  I didn't seem to be more than
                      a few feet away from him.  Yet he sounded further away than that...and
                      sad...so sad.

                      I opened my mouth to call out to him, but no sound came.  I tried to reach
                      him through the marks...and discovered they were blocked off.  The harder I
                      tried to reach my master, the thicker the fog grew, and the further away he
                      seemed to get.

                      I woke up with a really bad headache, crying.  "Asher...."

                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                      When my headache had subsided enough for me to take in my surroundings, I
                      found myself in a rather dingy room.  My clothes had been changed while I was
                      unconscious.  I was now wearing a silky red dress.  It was sleeveless with a
                      drop waistline and appeared to be tea length.  Didn't feel like I had any
                      underwear on beneath it.  My boots were nowhere to be seen.

                      I also noticed that my hands were cuffed behind my back, and my ankle was
                      chained by a fur-lined cuff to the metal bedframe of the lumpy bed I was on.
                      I managed to sit up and wriggle my fingers.  My hands were numb from where
                      I'd lain on them.

                      How had I gotten here?  The last thing I remembered was being in the dark
                      woods with Vladimir.  He'd spotted the dragon and knocked me to the ground,
                      falling on top of me.  I must've hit my head on a root or something.  Had the
                      dragon overcome him and taken me?

                      The door opened as I sat mulling over my situation, and Vlad entered the
                      room, leading what appeared at first glance to be a garishly dressed young
                      woman.  I suddenly remembered feeling a prick to my arm when he'd fallen on
                      me...a hypodermic.  So...he'd abducted me.  Question was, why?  And why
                      couldn't I reach Asher?

                      "Who's that?" Vlad's guest asked.  I blinked.  It may have looked like a
                      woman, but the voice was masculine...a bit effeminate sounding, but
                      definitely male.  A male prostitute?  The outfit was certainly loud enough.
                      Neon orange tube top and micro-skirt connected by several gold-tone chains,
                      ratty fishnet stockings that looked like they'd seen a few too many nights,
                      knee high patent leather boots with acrylic platform stiletto heels, a jade
                      bellybutton ring, bangles on both wrists, and shoulder duster earrings.  His
                      dark hair was done in a spiky shag cut, streaked with magenta and about 2
                      inches of the tips done in bright blue.  He also must've been on
                      hormones...the breasts looked real.

                      Vlad took notice of me and smiled pleasantly, as if it was perfectly normal
                      to have a woman chained to his bed.  "Guten abend, Frau," he beamed, careful
                      to keep his fangs concealed.  "I see you are awake at last."

                      I didn't want to piss him off, considering I wasn't really in a position to
                      defend myself.  But I wanted some answers.  "I didn't mean to sleep so long,
                      Vladimir," I replied politely, like it was perfectly normal to *be* chained
                      to his bed.  "Do you mind telling me what's going on?"

                      "Not at all, liebchen," he fairly purred, standing behind the hooker and
                      stroking a hand down the man's arm.  "I thought I'd have a little something
                      to eat before tonight's festivities began."

                      "Whoa, sugar," the hooker said, laughing.  "Usually I do the john...you wanna
                      do *me*, that's fine, but it'll be another twenty bucks."

                      Shit!  The guy didn't realize *what* Vlad was!  When he said something to
                      eat, he'd meant it *literally* not sexually.  The realization must've shown
                      on my face.  Vlad smiled at me over the man's shoulder, a look of pure
                      malice.  I quickly schooled my features to cold indifference.  He was
                      *trying* to scare me...and I didn't have the first clue *why*.

                      "Don't worry, my sweet," Vlad whispered seductively in the man's ear, snaking
                      one arm around his waist and pulling him back against his chest.  "You'll get
                      your pay."  He began feathering kisses up the hooker's throat, searching out
                      the pulse.

                      "I better," the man stated, then screamed in agony and terror as Vlad struck
                      and began to feed.  The vampire used his other arm to pin his victim's arms
                      to his sides, and lifted him until his feet dangled inches above the floor.

                      The hooker continued to writhe and scream.  His hands hooked into claws and
                      his legs flailed about seeking leverage.  Vladimir hadn't rolled him, I
                      realized.  The poor thing was aware of and feeling everything that was being
                      done to him.

                      I kept my face immobile and my eyes empty and emotionless.  Vlad's gaze never
                      left mine, watching for the least reaction.  Damned if I was going to give
                      him one.

                      The victim managed to land one good kick to his killer's shin.  Vlad drew
                      back snarling, then struck again, nearly ripping the man's throat out.  The
                      screams began to sound more like gurglings.  The struggles gradually grew
                      weaker as the blood drained away, taking the man's life with it.  The man's
                      entire upper body glistened with the viscous red fluid.  The metallic tang of
                      fresh blood filled the air of the small room.  I was suddenly glad I had
                      forgotten to eat anything since I'd gotten up.

                      Once the light faded from the hooker's terror-filled eyes, Vlad dropped his
                      prey's lifeless husk casually to the floor, licking his lips.  His shirt was
                      completely soaked with his victim's blood.  "Delightful city," he remarked.
                      "They have the *best* take out...and nice disposable containers,
                      too...biodegradable, of course.  Wouldn't want to litter up the landscape
                      with too much plastic, now would we?"

                      I watched my captor warily...aware that the bloodlust was still on him.  Vlad
                      gave me an almost feral smile as he peeled the blood-soaked shirt from his
                      body.  I must have let something show on my face when I heard the squelching
                      of the sodden fabric.  He gave a cruel laugh as he dropped the soggy thing to
                      the floor with a splat.

                      He then began to slowly stalk towards me.  I made one more desperate attempt
                      to call Asher through the marks.  I was rewarded with a sharp pain behind my
                      eyes and a crushing pressure to my lungs.  I had to gasp for air.

                      "Ah, ah, ah," Vlad waggled a finger at me.  "None of that, liebchen.  You
                      cannot call your master for help.  You will only hurt yourself, and he cannot
                      hear you."  He was already beside the bed, looming over me.  I flinched back
                      from his bloody chest despite myself.  He was succeeding in scaring me.

                      "*Why* can't he hear me?" I asked the supposed Council representative.

                      "Now that would be telling," he laughed again.  "Suffice to say that he is in
                      a safe place...for now...and will remain safe, as long as you cooperate."
                      His laugh just wasn't as good as Asher's or Jean-Claude's...no texture to it.
                       Made me remember that I wasn't dealing with a *master* vampire.

                      "What do you want from me, Vladimir?  What could you possibly gain from
                      kidnapping me?" I asked coldly.

                      He placed a hand on either side of me, leaning in, forcing me to either lean
                      back on the pillows or let him touch me.  I leaned back...not quite willing
                      to let him touch me.  And still he leaned into me, until his lips were just a
                      breath away from my ear.  "Power," he whispered seductively, starting to use
                      voice tricks.  I quickly reassessed my opinion about his vocal talents.  He
                      still wasn't as skilled as Jean or my master, but he was damned close.

                      "You see," he continued, his voice wrapping around me like silken fur, trying
                      to pull me under, "I know who you really are, liebchen."

                      "And who is that?" I breathed back.  Shit!  He was starting to get to me.  He
                      *had* to be using more than just voice tricks.

                      He began feathering kisses along my jaw, causing me to give a small whimper,
                      my eyes fluttering closed of their own accord.  "You are the one known as the
                      Absorber, liebchen," he chuckled.  "Asher sensed your rebirth and sought you
                      out so he could be whole again."

                      My eyes flew open in shock.  'No!  Oh no!' my mind screamed in horror.  'He
                      thinks I'm Jules?!  And he's Council...part of the same group responsible for
                      destroying the Absorber's host every time they discovered one!'

                      "Oh ja, liebchen," Vlad purred.  "I like this!  Your terror is exquisitely
                      delicious!"  He began nibbling down my throat, then sucking painfully at the
                      soft flesh where my neck and shoulder met.  He wasn't feeding, however.  I
                      realized with disgust that he was giving me a hickey instead.  I fought not
                      to cry out from the discomfort.

                      After a couple of minutes, he drew back to look at me.  He grinned, flashing
                      fangs at my horrified expression.  "Oh you are going to be fun to break, ein
                      bitte.  I see fire in your eyes," he chuckled evilly.  "Good!  I enjoy it so
                      much more when they fight back!"

                      'Asher!' I screamed, first in my mind, then in pain as I came up against the
                      block again.

                      "And now I shall let you in on a little secret of mine," Vlad leered at me,
                      his body hovering just inches above mine as I tried to burrow into the bed
                      away from him.  His voice once again became a velvety whisper, a promise of
                      pleasures untold...or nightmares undreamed.  "The reason my dark mistress,
                      Belle Morte kept me in her court, even though I am not a master...was because
                      I share an ardeur almost as strong as her own."

                      His shields suddenly dropped and I was hit with a wave of lust and desire
                      stronger even than Jean-Claude's when he nearly lost control.  Without access
                      to Asher's strength, I had no hope of resisting it.  I screamed in despair as
                      Vlad descended upon me.

                      Everywhere his mouth touched felt like fire, the desire was so strong.  My
                      mind raged against his every action even as my body responded as if I were
                      willing.  It was maddening.  He took me in so many different ways I lost
                      track.  It went on nearly until dawn.

                      Eventually, I was only aware of lust and pain.  My throat was raw from
                      screaming until I had no voice left.  My body was covered with bruises from
                      his rough handling.  My hips ached, making me wonder vaguely if they were
                      cracked or dislocated.  My entrance was raw and swollen, making it impossible
                      to find a comfortable position.  It wouldn't have surprised me if he'd torn
                      me wide in his ardeur.  It felt that way.

                      I kept repeating over and over in my mind, 'God help me!'  My mental voice
                      becoming weaker and more pitiful with each touch of Vlad's hand or thrust of
                      his hips.  I felt as if my very life was draining away in the sex.

                      Just as I thought I was going to lose consciousness, Vlad rolled off me.  I
                      lay there shivering in the chill of the room.  With amazing gentleness, he
                      rolled me to my side, and producing a key from somewhere, unlocked the
                      handcuffs.  My hands were numb and stiff, my wrists bloody, but healed.  'At
                      least the marks can still help with that,' registered in my mental fog.

                      Vlad was saying something to me.  When I didn't respond, he slapped me
                      lightly, still managing to rock my head back.  I tried to focus bleary eyes
                      on him.  "I said, there's a chamber pot under the bed, liebchen," he
                      repeated.  Then with a malicious smile, he added, "I'll just leave our friend
                      where he is to keep you company until I rise tonight."  With that, he left
                      the room.

                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                      Hours later, I woke from a fitful sleep.  I was freezing and sore all over.
                      There weren't any windows in the room, so I didn't know what time it was.
                      There wasn't any heat either, and Vlad had shredded the dress I'd been in.
                      My ankle was still manacled to the bedframe.  I lay there in the cold room,
                      naked...with the body of the dead hooker staring mockingly from the floor
                      where Vlad had discarded him.  At least HE didn't have any more worries...no
                      cold...no pain...no fear.

                      I shook my head violently.  NO!  I would NOT give in to this terrorizing so
                      easily!

                      I noticed that my ankle was itching furiously.  Must've bloodied it as well
                      with the chaffing and jerking about.  I reached down, trying to slip a finger
                      between it and the manacle to rub some of the soreness away.  Something
                      didn't feel right.  There was something around my ankle underneath the
                      imprisoning band.

                      I managed to hook it out after several attempts.  It looked like some sort of
                      macrame anklet.  The beads looked suspiciously like bone fragments, and the
                      cord appeared to be made of hair twisted together.  I fought back rising bile
                      at the sight of it.  It *felt* evil.  I HAD to get it off!

                      It must've taken an hour to cut through the cords with my thumbnails.  My
                      fingertips were tender from the effort.  But I finally had the damn thing
                      off!  I flung it across the room as far as I could.  I suddenly felt like a
                      great weight had been lifted.  My mind was clearer.  I could feel my body
                      speed up the healing process as my link with Asher reconnected itself.

                      Vladimir had *lied*, I realized.  He'd led me to believe that Asher had been
                      boxed or some such.  Instead, it was that damnable charm, whatever it had
                      been, that had been blocking me.

                      I still didn't know what time it was.  I just prayed that Asher was all right
                      and that he would rise before Vlad did.

                      I began calling out his name repeatedly, like a homing beacon...eventually
                      drifting back into a stupor from the cold and exhaustion, my mind still
                      repeating, 'Asher, Asher, Asher, Asher....'

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