The Next Day

The doorbell buzzed again as Michonne forced her bloodshot eyes open. Her sight partially hindered by brown disheveled dreadlocks and the crushing pain of a migraine. Last night, the notion of drinking away the delusions of Britney seemed like a good idea, but the waves of nausea made her feel otherwise.

Eventually, Michonne unraveled from the thick duvet and drew herself off the cluttered platform bed. Her heavy eyelids raised half way as she eyed over Alejandro still deep in slumber. She nearly rolled her eyes at the sight of him before reaching over and tapping his bare shoulder to wake up.

Fumbling over the scattered clothes on the floor, Michonne's eyesight struggled to cope with the bright daylight peeking through the Venetian blinds as she answered the door.

"Took you long enough. I was starting to send for a search team." Scoffed Maggie, her red lips drawing into a playful smile. "I bare gifts this morning."

The nutty and sobering aroma of coffee filled Michonne's nostrils as her tired eyes scanned over the two venti cups of hot coffee and a small pack of her favorite glazed donuts from the nearby convenience store.

"The coffee and donuts can come in." Michonne sneered, sarcastically.

Maggie shifted her weight to one side and narrowed her eyes. "Glad to know you're back to your old bitchy self. "She paused, taking a moment to gaze over the lanky Latino fastening his jeans.

"Hope I didn't interrupt." Said Maggie slyly, her smirk growing tighter.

Michonne tossed her a knowing glare. "He was just leaving."

Slightly embarrassed, Alejandro stroked his short black hair before inching to Michonne. He leaned in, wrapping his long arm around the small of her back and kissed her cheek tenderly.

"See you again tonight?"

She took in his square jaw, dark eyes and arrogant expression. If there was one thing that turned her off, it was an overly confident man that assumed his looks were sufficient enough to make a woman fall to her knees.

Vénus en Rouge not only gave her a new sense of self but a nearly endless supply of hungry men. During the past few months, she begun to grow apathetic to the try hard sweet-talks and clichéd pick-up lines. In the end, they all wanted the same thing, and eventually she did as well. Men became nothing more but a hobby of hers after shows or whenever she felt the need to quench a thirst. She yearned for something different. Alejandro was attractive but too simple her taste. He was a conventional pretty boy who thought the universe revolved around him. He had the ability to make every topic of a conversation somehow spun back to him. Which was impressive she thought, considering there was little about him that was original or exciting enough to be discussion worthy. Nonetheless, he provided her with the solace she needed for the night.

She let her eyes fall over him once more before tuning into his voice.

"So, what do you say?" He stared down on her, anticipating her agreement.

She met up with his dark eyes, taking a moment to moisten her lips, dropping her gaze.

"I had a good time last night." She writhed herself from the embrace and drew closer to the door. "But I don't think so."

Alejandro's smug grin weakened into a disappointed frown, his pride reeling from a devastating blow. He chewed at his lip, giving himself a minute to absorb the brutally honest answer. He felt as if a part of his brain had malfunctioned. Rarely did any woman turn him down especially when he brought up the hint of sex. He soon gathered his shirt and dignity off the floor, tossing her one last scowl before walking out the door.

Maggie's prying eyes followed his departure before resting the pack of donuts on a table. She flopped herself on top of the messy bed, crossing her legs and recovering a pack of cigarettes from her bomber jacket. "Mind if I smoke in here? I had a long morning."

"Yes." Answered Michonne dully as she searched through the nightstand drawer for painkillers.

Maggie let out a huff as she placed the pack of Marlboros back inside her leather jacket and reached for a donut instead.

Her eyes wandered over the room aimlessly before fixing on her friend's favorite necklace that was adorned with cowrie shells. "Where did you get that?" She mused aloud.

Michonne touched her choker necklace and gazed over a picture of her grandma on the nightstand. A regal looking woman who sat with a demure smile and tall orange headwrap that bared the Veve symbol.

"My grandmother made it for me." She said wanly before tipping her head back and swallowing the pain relievers.

Maggie mulled over what her family must've been like. Albeit, they were good friends, she barely knew much about her life outside of burlesque and Atlanta.

Maggie's thoughts then drifting off to Madame Kali.

"You think Kali's involved with the mafia?" Maggie thought aloud. "She always gave off that kind of vibe to me." She added, half-jokingly.

Michonne paused momentarily, feeling a pinch of regret wash over her. Perhaps it was the countless shots of tequila last night, but she had forgotten she even told her about Kali and the blue-eyed stranger. Though Kali's behavior was suspicious, Michonne grew to trust her and the aching thought of her being involved in such activities made her feel even more sick.

"I don't know."

Maggie cut her eyes back to Michonne, sensing an unsettling distance from her friend. She was secretly hoping their banter would prove a good distraction, but things still felt somber. It wasn't like Michonne to give such brief responses and not engage in gossip. Her green orbs then began to swell with worry as she reflected on how traumatizing it must be for her friend to carry around those visions of Britney's attack.

"Michonne." A soft whisper escaped her lips. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Maggie's green eyes fixed on her, attentively.

The upsetting events of yesterday hung over them like a heavy dark cloud.

"Yeah. I know." Michonne smiled weakly at her friend. "I just need one of these donuts." She deterred, wanting the conversation to steer away from yesterday.

Maggie's brows furrowed in deep thought as she nodded her head. She knew that Michonne was trying to avoid the ordeal, so she swallowed the urge to bring it up and resumed savoring the sugary dessert.


Somewhere Over Maryland

Wings of an Embraer Legacy sliced through grey clouds, soaring swiftly across the bedimming sky. The small window slots of the plane were shrouded with thick black screens, purposely blocking out the last sun-rays of the day as dusk rolled over into night.

Inside his lavish cabin, Rick clinched his jaw in annoyance while flicking through several news stations each one recapping the same news story from yesterday.

"This is how you divert attention?" He gritted his teeth, shifting his burning blue eyes from the plasma screen to Negan.

"I did what I had to." Said Negan without meeting his chastening eyes. "She knew the feral wasn't a human."

Ferals were vampires gone rogue. Zombie-like creatures who were completely devoid of any consciousness and the ability to control their thirst for human blood. The creation of a feral was only possible by the abandonment of a siring vampire. As directed by the council, a vampire was beholden to share a coffin with their progeny until the dying human was fully resurrected as a vampire.

Despite Rick's efforts to maintain the feral population, the uptick of attacks continued. Pushing the city toward the brink of anarchy and widespread paranoia. The unusually high concentration of ferals in Atlanta soon drew the attention of the Council, who now requested a quarterly in-person progress report of the city. And tonight, they expected another update.

A small laugh escaped Rick's lips exposing his razor-sharp canine teeth. "What do you plan to do once your lure fades?" His drawl was hard and mocking. "Sooner or later, she'll remember. And I'll be forced to, yet again explain this to the council."

"I'll get rid of her. That was my plan from the start." Negan shrugged. "Unfortunately, I didn't have the time. Her blue-haired comrade would've seen." He took a large swig of blood. "So, I improvised."

After being appointed to Chief of Police, Negan took on the responsibility of overseeing the city's vampire population and eliminating any risk that threatened the pact of secrecy especially ferals. Once he found the vampires responsible for their creation, he brought them to Rick for judgement, which was usually death.

Rick's brows dropped. His stern expression withering into a meditative one. "Her face is all over the news now." He motioned to the large screen. "She's too recognizable.

"If anything happened to her, it would too easily spark a city uproar. Something we can't afford right now."

Negan's brows drew closer, causing the wrinkles on his forehead to deepen. "So, what do you want me to do with her then?"

Rick leaned back in the soft leather seat, taking in a moment of clarity. "Let me handle it. You've done enough already."

"Exactly thirty minutes until we reach New York, sir." The bitten blonde whispered over his shoulder.


Back in Atlanta

The pungent smell of alcohol and cigars wafted in the air as Michonne and Maggie descended downstairs and into the barely-lit lounge under Vénus en Rouge. The bunker was rumored to had been created in the early 1930s as a hideout for Mae Capone after her husband was sent to the federal pen. Michonne was always skeptical of that. As its only purpose now was a den for debauchery after every show.

Cutting their way through the crowd of intoxicated patrons, Michonne scanned over Britney's closest friends. Each one with an ember of grief in their eyes. Their conversations weakened as the rest of the crowd followed her and Maggie over to the bar.

An awkward second passed before a short brunette sauntered from within the crowd and over to the bar with them. She ran her manicured nails across the alumilited oak bar top

"You alright, Kitty?"

Michonne stared up. There was kindness in Christina's smile, a gentleness that she rarely showed to anyone.

"Yeah." Michonne said in a quiet tone. "Thanks."

"Hey cutie pie." Christina rolled her gaze over to the chubby, hipster looking bartender. "Get this one a double on me, will you?" She turned back, intentionally snubbing Maggie beside her.

Maggie glared over to Christina with contempt in her eyes. They had been sworn rivals ever since the infamous shampoo incident.

Before her first show, Maggie sat in her designated beauty station and begun prepping her long highlighted brown hair, but to her horror, she soon found out that someone had spiked her blow-drying spray with blue dye. And no one other than Christina, found it side-splittingly funny.

Surprisingly, the mean-spirited prank backfired on Christina as the crowd ended up loving it. Soon after, Maggie adopted the flamboyant hair color as her signature look.

Forty minutes and two double shots later, Michonne strolled over to a quieter corner of the tavern, flopping into a comfy futon. She was tired but didn't feel the need to go home yet. She had nothing else to distract herself with, and especially now that Madame Kali had given everyone the weekend off to mourn Britney.

Swirling the rum in her glass, she felt a man's eyes burning a hole into the side of her face.

"Can I help you with somethin?" She turned her head and eyed the stranger.

"Michonne, right?" He probed, his mesmerizing hazel eyes peering from under wild dirty-blond hair.

She lowered her brows, confused how he knew her name. Very few people outside of Vénus en Rouge knew her real name and she didn't recall ever seeing his face before.

"If you're a reporter, I don't want to fuckin talk about it anymore." She sneered, fed up with having to revisit the trauma of yesterday.

"I'm not a reporter." He let out a soft laugh. "Seen you on the news."

"Oh." She breathed, her defensive eyes starting to wane. Michonne cocked her head to the side and searched his handsome face curiously. His eyes were a mesmerizing caramel mixed with forest green.

"Well...I still don't want to talk about it." She swallowed.

"I don't blame you." He huffed, bringing a glass of whiskey to his slender lips. "This city is full of unspeakable shit."

"And you are?" She asked, paying close attention to his eyes and body language.

"Soren." He flashed her a slight smile and reached out to properly introduce himself.

Michonne glanced over his hand hesitantly for a moment before ultimately placing her hands in his.


1,075 Miles Away

The Spanish Fortress sat on a steep hill within the Adirondacks, towering over a lush green forest and a vast moonlit lake. The Alcazar stood as an extension of Marqués' ego, as it made no attempt to camouflage itself within the idyllic uplands. The white-silver glow of the moon made it appear even more immaculate as if it had fell from the heavens above. However, looming closer, the tall plateresque walls told the story of withering and cede. A perfect depiction of the man who lived inside.

Rick and Negan waited as the wooden medieval doors ascended, soon revealing an exquisite space, to say the least. Rick took in a heavy breath. If his human emotions weren't such a distant memory, he could've sworn he felt a sense of anxiety wash over him. It had been three months since his last meeting with Marqués and yet things have only stayed the same. Ferals still roamed the city causing even more humans to resort to conspiracy theories and speculations of vampires.

"How nice to see you again, Chancellor." Marqués stretched out a delicate tan hand, beckoning the two men to the elaborately decorated table, his silky Spanish accent echoing off the marble walls. He carried the mannerisms of a Renaissance lord, though he was draped in the latest haute couture.

"Marqués." Rick nodded before circling around the grand table, the pristine silver cutlery already laid out beside empty crystal wine glasses.

"I am looking forward to your update." He dragged on his words, tracking a beautiful long-haired man leisurely walking over to the table. "Come and sit beside me, Jesus." His voice fell low but commanding.

A noble looking woman shifted her cinnamon eyes over to Marqués. The irritation was not easily hidden on her innocent face. "Must you do this at the table." She whined and scanned over the guests embarrassedly.

The masterful black-haired vampire looked on at his daywalker, ignoring her frustrated glare. "Must you spoil every splendor, Freya." He flicked his hand feebly.

Rick cleared his throat impatiently. "There have been five more feral attacks since the last update." He paused, shifting his dimmer cobalt eyes to the side.

"And I don't feel that we're any closer to finding the vampires responsible for them." He spoke with honesty laced in his deep southern drawl.

"I'm keeping a record of every siring vampire. Hopefully, that'll assist us in finding the source of these attacks." Negan ensured, searching Rick and Marqués for approval.

Marqués let his bored eyes roll up Negan's rugged face. "Sufficient enough, I guess." He concurred briefly. "What of your relations with the humans in your city." He asked, shifting his hungry eyes back to Jesus.

"Relations to the humans?" Rick questioned, his eyebrows creased in bewilderment. Vampire and human relations was never a factor that concerned him. He mostly seen them as nothing more but annoyingly destructive creatures that provided him with a good source of food and assistance in the daylight hours.

"It may be important from this time forward." A small smile played on Marqués' lips. "Prime Council and I, are considering the option of eliminating the Pact of Secrecy."

The long table grew silent as a wave of shock stunned the guests.

Rick rested his head in his hands, concealing the anger that flexed in his jaws. "We shouldn't take chances like this."

Marqués turned his inquisitive gaze over to Rick.

"The humans of today are more tolerant than any of those I've known before." He roared, shedding his composed demeanor.

"They have already accepted apparitions, witches so why not us as well. Hiding in the shadows is only making their suspicions grow more dangerous. We should show them we mean no harm if they wish to cooperate."

"They won't. Humans suffer from the disability of sadism." Answered Freya in a quiet tone. "They kill what they fear."

"Do we not kill?" Marqués questioned sharply.

"We kill out of survival. Not fear." Rick interjected. "This is only making us more of a target."

"In three days' time we will make our decision." Marqués cut through their objections. "Now, no more." His cavernous voice vibrated over the table, ending the heated discussion.

Rick tilt his head in irritation at the thought of having to play nice with humans before slowly raising himself from the embellished table.

Following Rick and Negan out of the dark lair, Marqués let out a satisfying breath before piercing down on Jesus' wrist, drawing the delectable red liquid that he had been yearning for.


Back in Atlanta and Three Hours Later

Madame Kali eyed Rick intensely as she leaned against the glass of her office desk. "I cannot have this happening again. My business is suffering as well as my girls."

Like all other vampires in the south, Kali was required to pay a tax to the Chancellor in exchange for protection and a weekly delivery of fresh blood. It was a system utilized to ensure the preservation of the vampire race. Providing them with the nutrition they needed, in case some were not able to feed.

"I assure you this will be the last time." He said, his voice deadly calm. "But I didn't come here to discuss the attacks."

"What else? "Asked Kali curiously. "I can't imagine anything else worthier." She crossed her arms stubbornly.

Rick fell silent for a moment before his face grew more serious, dropping his drawl to a lower pitch.

"I want Michonne."

Kali swallowed as though she was having trouble getting her words out. "I- I cannot give you her." She protested. "She is one of my best performers and you have a terrible habit of killing your daywalkers."

Rick grunted, unwilling to accept this as an answer. "I'll keep her safe." He veered his eyes from her. " You have my word."

"You better." Kali let out a defeated breath.

He swung his icy eyes back to her with offense and leered down at her. His jaws stiffened as he drew closer. "I don't take well to idle threats, Ms. Patel."

Rendered motionless under the intensity of his now lit blue eyes, she felt a tightness in the back of her throat. "Sorry, sir."

Breaking from his hold of her, his burning eyes reduced as he reached into his coat for two envelopes. "Give her this." He handed her one of the envelopes.

"And this one, for your compliance." He tossed the other on the desk.


Later That Night

"What now?" Michonne gritted out before reluctantly uncovering her face from under the soft sheets. She rubbed her knuckles onto her eyes before peering out of her third story window. The sky was still a canvas of dull black.

She eventually picked herself off the queen size bed, dragging her feet over to the door. Cracking it slowly, her sleepy eyes widened as she was taken aback by the sight of Madame Kali.

"Kali? It's like 3am." She whispered, her voice raspier than usual.

"Take this." Kali said distantly as she passed her the white envelope. "I need you to assist one of my business partners."

Michonne scanned over the envelope suspiciously. "Kali, is this some sort of drug deal?" She let out, no longer able to suppress her worrying thoughts.

"Of course not." Kali snapped amusingly. Her naïve question causing a faint smirk to play on her black painted lips. "It's more of a job offer. He needs somewhat of a personal assistant." She explained.

"Oh." Michonne's suspicion soon turned to interest as she mulled over the prospect of making extra money. "How much is he paying? I'm not doing this out of the goodness in my heart." She said sternly.

"All the details are in there." Kali gestured toward the envelope and let out a breath."Sleep on it, Kitty." She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before leaving.

Michonne fell silent as her curious brown eyes followed her down the hall. She swallowed, looking over to the name Rick Grimes imprinted at the corner.