Moonlight – Virtual Season 2
Short 13.1 – Divided Loyalties

Rating: R/M

Writer: Mx wwmickd

Beta'd: Writers Group

VS2 Writers Group includes Candomom, ClChen, Conni4, Evilous, Misfit, Mx wwmickd, Night Owl, Phantom Phoenix, Photosue and Sunny.

Disclaimer: Moonlight and its characters are owned by CBS and Warner Brothers. All use of Moonlight and its characters in this venue are for entertainment purposes and completed solely for the pleasure of Moonlight lovers. The original storylines and episodes have been created by the VS2 Writers and Discussion Group. We hope you enjoy.

This short takes place between virtual episodes 13 and 14.


Coraline was hungry. When she was hungry she thought of him. The sky was lightening and she had to find someplace to shelter from the sun. She would have to move and keep on moving to avoid Lance. No freezer was better than being held captive, clamped in Lance's arms, not daring to move… sleep if you called it that… escaping her.

An abandoned and aging car dealership caught her eye. Plywood covered every window and graffiti erased the line between wall and window. She twisted the padlock that held the back door shut. She wouldn't need the security a lock would bring. Daylight would keep most humans from taking advantage of an easy breaking and entry and , if humans came upon her hiding place… it was as good as ordering in.

Curling on a bathroom floor , Coraline braced her back against the locked door which opened inwards… she would have time to wake if someone forced their way in.

He stood her up. At the very same party he had requested to showoff his new West Coast respectability to Hollywood society. Coraline was bored, angry and alone and , most of all , hungry. No one was going to get a meal tonight, it was a largely human affair and the party goers were all too well-to-do, well-recognized and too well-respected for a bite.

Coraline considered luring a tall handsome young man away from an aging actress but a sniff told her the pheromones were all wrong. Charles would have better luck and she wouldn't settle for seconds here, she owned the place.

The band began to play a slow pre-war waltz, Moonlight Serenade with tinny steel guitar overtones from an even earlier generation. Coraline rolled her eyes as Charles Fitzgerald pulled her into a lazy dance.

"I don't see your boy, anywhere."

"If he doesn't want to come to his own party…" A shrug, "So, are you in LA for business or pleasure?"

"Business. Don't look now, but Romeo just strolled in with two young and luscious ingénues on his arm. Charles looked down briefly so that she could see his silver eyes and a tongue raked across his upper teeth.

Coraline hissed inaudibly, "Hold me closer, Charles." Polite applause followed the song and another soporific standard, Stardust began.

"Romeo's patron, Joe Sr., owes me money and believes he's untouchable."

"Have you considered asking Norma Desmond over there to carry a message?"

"I was going to ask you convey the message, but…"

"No one leaves me, Charles…" Charles Fitzpatrick released her with a feral grin.

"Shall I save you a bite?" …a veiled invitation to share the cost of clean-up.

"No, thank you, Charles, I've lost my appetite."

…..

Heart beats and calculations, both human and vampire. Charles was stalking Romeo, talking to one of the young actresses who had accompanied him. Coraline made sure her ex-lover was watching as she walked across the terrace where the band was playing. Casting her allure widely, Coraline enjoyed the smells of the vital young men. She could feel their eyes and their hunger for sex as she walked away provocatively. Hunger meeting hunger... power... sex... blood.

The guitar player caught her eye, his hunger as strong as hers… torment him, provoke him until he was ready to throw her to the ground and take her… then she would take him. Her ex-lover was forgotten.

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It was night as Coraline walked across the empty lot, crack bottles breaking underneath her bare feet. Right now shoes were a luxury, Mick's money would have to last.

Coraline walked the long blocks from the old auto dealership to the Three Aces pawn shop. Street walkers and threatening young men hanging out on the corners gave her a wide berth; a tall pale woman who walked heedlessly over glass and gravel dressed in tight black leggings and an equally tight cropped top, her black trench coat flapping open carelessly.

With each step she shed the identity of Coraline Duvall, picking up the fragments of Morgan Vincent. Years in Chicago, winter on the beaches of Lake Michigan, night classes at Northwestern, gallery openings and selling photos to the Tribune.

……..

"Morgan!" Gianni AKA "Johnny," the owner, laid down a half eaten burrito on the glass cabinet filled with antique pistols. Coraline looked at the burrito and then looked at him with narrowed eyes. He shrugged unapologetic, "It's a good time to be human. You come for your stuff?"

Morgan reached behind her to lock the door as Gianni flipped the sign from "open" to "closed." Behind the counter was a trap door, holding it open he said, "After you." No other vamps, no other humans. Morgan leapt down as Gianni followed slowly down the ladder. "Arthritis is a bitch," He complained as his foot slapped the concrete floor of the basement.

Morgan Vincent's eyes glittered as she looked over the small armory Gianni had accumulated in his basement workshop. "Someone has a gun fetish. Is this an over compensation for being human?" Morgan Vincent turned a pistol over in her hands as she mused, "Česká Zbrojovka-75," pointing it at Gianni's heart, not a flutter, it's unloaded. A shame…

"You're beautiful with a gun, cheri."

Morgan grins, "What kind of bullets can I get with this?"

"The usual…"

"Silver?"

"Silver melts at almost three times the temperature of lead… it's like casting fine jewelry and not your tin-pot toy soldiers. It can be done…" Gianni holds out his hands, inviting Morgan to look around. He is good at concealment even as a human.

Morgan lays down the gun in a pile of other weapons and switches tactics, "My cameras?"

"In the cabinet, do you have your pawn ticket?"

"I believe I have you at a disadvantage, Gianni." Morgan purrs, suggesting the predator just below the surface as she opens the doors and removes her camera bags.

Reaching into a bag, Morgan holds out a canister of unused film in her open palm. "What is this?"

"Film, you are a photographer." His heart rate rises.

"If I asked you, how many pictures were left on this roll of film, would you be able to tell me?

"Just a few…"

Honesty. Morgan slips the can of film into the pocket of her coat. "Give me your hand," she commands him. A quick bite, a drop of blood rolling across her tongue and then rudely spit out, "Collaborateur. You've sold the compound to the Legion?" Morgan listens to Gianni's heart beat steady.

"Collaborateur, I can remember when the same could be said of you Concitoyenne* Duvall. Your family used the French Revolution to consolidate power and eliminate rivals. How is this any different?

My family will lose… without control of the compound.

Commerce, Morgan smiled at the irony that Josef Kostan would understand the transaction completely. Gianni, former chemist and parfumeur, had prepared the rounds which delivered 6 hours or less of humanity. Three darts remained in Legion hands. Now Morgan demanded her cut and she left taking the remaining few grams of the compound, leaving Gianni with less than a week of humanity. She couldn't kill him, he kept his knowledge of the cure in his head… but they would bargain when he became a vampire and a Legion target again.

Mick the hunter, Morgan thought how she would enjoy watching when she fed him the location of the Three Aces Pawn Shop.

*citizen

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