BLOOD POISONING

Skyler Barton had always dreamed of having a completely wild kegger. Of the type shown in teen movies. Of the kind that often get shut down by the police. He had his wish. By midnight, there were over a hundred teens there and it seemed incredible that even his family's luxurious Tudor house could hold them all.

It was just too bad for Barton that he was no longer alive to enjoy it.

He had invited Coquette up to show her his bedroom. She had effortlessly, and gracefully glided up the back stairs while the burly teenager was starting to stumble as if he were climbing a steep slope.

"Here it is" said Barton, opening a door to a room with a large four-poster bed, a large tv, stereo. The walls were decorated with posters of girls, cars and the Toronto Maple Leafs."

"It is not exactly, how you say, the room of a lover of the either the literature of the philosophy les Francais" Coquette said as she looked about and failed to see anything in the way of books. "Or any philosophy or the knowledge historical. It is obvious to moi you know nothing about Moliere, Rosseau, Voltaire, Didorot, or by far my favourite, Helvetius and his magnum opus D'Esperit."

"About that, I just don't keep books in my room . . ." said Barton.

"You claimed to know them just to lure moi dans la chamber" said Coquette, haughtily. "You, a common schoolboy."

"What the . . . ." Barton started to turn red in embarrassment and anger.

"And, to add the insult atop the injury, you are the fan of the hopeless Leafs, archrivals of the Montreal Canadiens" sniffed Coquette. "Well, au revoir mon ami Skyler."

The next thing Skyler knew, Coquette had sank her brilliant white teeth into his neck. It was in short order that he felt dizzy and gasping for breath. But she didn't finish him off right away.

Barton collapsed on his bed looking up as if though a mist as the yellow eyed, fanged young woman looking contemptuously at him.

"Huh?" was Skyler's last word, in something of a hoarse whisper.

"I did not want you to die easily" announced Coquette. "So, here is the coup de grace."

Coquette grabbed Skyler's with her soft hands; soft but strong as steel. She broke his neck. A few drops of blood exiting the mouth of the dead Skyler Barton was confirmation of the kill.

"I do not drink junk-food so often" Coquette said to herself. "And I really should have saved him for dinner in front of mes amis, as mon parti piece de la resistance. But I could not resist the thrill of killing him in his own room, in his own bed. Andre will be much entertained when we have finished our work! Ah, the great Helvetius said there was no good or evil, only our self-interest! He was not quite right, but it is what I have survived on these four centuries. Now, to find that idiot Colby. Let's us see to letting the werewolf loose on the party. Ah, pauvre Ethan!

Coquette laughed, not malevolently but melodically. The laugh of a young, beautiful woman having a good time.

"Now where is that idiot Colby?"

Colby was laughing too. Colby and Erica had let themselves be moved along with the crowd. So much so, they were now in the kitchen near the back staircase.

"How about some privacy?" Colby suggested to her. "I don't like to dance between the electric oven and the icebox."

"Icebox?" laughed Erica.

"That's what I always called it" said Colby.

"Your age is showing" said Coquette, who glared at the tall, teenage-looking vampire as he reached the top of the stairs. "Icebox, monsieur?"

"We always had an icebox in the kitchen, even though we could afford an electric refrigerator" started Colby, his eyes looking vacantly into the past. "Wilma McIntosh, our cook, wouldn't touch them. There used to be horror stories about whole families dying if the refrigerator pipes began to leak. The models back then used ammonia gas, sulphur dioxide and. . . Mademoiselle!" sputtered Colby.

"It is so touching to hear about your human life and your family's domestiques, and, how you say, appareils ménagers? Oh, your kitchen applicances" said Coquette sardonically.

"What do you mean by when he was human?" said Erica, sharply.

Her eyes felt like glazing over, but Erica shook the feeling with a shake of her head.

"I know you!" she said accusingly.

"ENOUGH!" said Coquette, raising her hand and placing Erica back into a trance. "And, you, Colby, you know she is to be the meal of my loyal Andre. Maintenant allez mon ami Erica!

Erica quickly fell back into the trance and walked robotically down the hall to the stairs.

"Bien" said Coquette. "Andre will adore you."

"What about me, Mademoiselle?" Colby complained.

"If you wish to eat tonight, lower yourself and bite a rat!" sneered Coquette. "I forbid you a human meal. That is your punishment for trying to take Andre's dinner. I should have you stake yourself for this betrayal, but I do need you. And you are, I must admit, half a step above the other muscle-headed minions Anastasia bequeathed to me. You did, at least, have an educated upbringing."

Colby muttered angrily to himself, something about "rat biters", nobody being allowed to talk about his "weak human life but me", not having been "bequeathed" and never being "Anastasia's man".

"Silence! Where did you leave the blood?" demanded Coquette. "En Français s'il vous plait!"

"J'ai laissé le sang dans le réfrigérateur, Mademoiselle" said Colby.

"Non, non, non, non" said Coquette, with a wince. "You murder my native tongue. And that, I cannot abide. You speak the Anglais. But now . . . as I said, we need not remove Ethan's talisman. It'll be far more amusing to overpower the protection of the talisman by giving his the potion to turn him into his werewolf self . . . and that potion is what is to us the crux of our survival . . . the ingestion of human blood. But how to do it?"

"I've been to parties like this before, Mademoiselle" said Colby. "It's where I often get my meals in Toronto. You know, the dame is blamed for partying too hard afterward when she disappears. So, I have an idea how to get this fella . . . this dog . . . to drink blood."

"Will wonders never cease!" observed Coquette. "And . . . but what is this?"

It was Jarrod Hodges tumbling up the stairs.

"Heyy Buddy!" he slurred. "What do you think you're do-ooooing with my date!" he said to Colby. "C'mon!"

Jarrod drunkly raised his fists.

"Chum" said Colby, with a smirk. "You are really lucky that I have other things to do!"

Colby clocked Hodges and let him drop face-first to the floor.

"Mec, ça fait mal" said Hodges, as he closed his eyes.

"Huh?" said Colby.

"Man, that hurts", he said" observed Coquette. "One thing may be said for this adolescent! His Francais is much better than yours Colby.

Ethan Morgan's excuse for not drinking, that he couldn't drive home, didn't hold much weight. He could always walk or ride. He was at one of his best friends' house. And he was the captain of the winning basketball team.

And there were always the few who thought Ethan could still have a couple beers and drive, given his size. Although it was illegal for a teenager, and if Ethan was caught he'd lose his license.

And, of course, there were those there who irresponsibly, idiotically and dangerously thought it was actually okay to drive drunk.

Ethan Morgan had finally given in to drinking, at least. What, after all, did drinking have to do turning into a werewolf, one way or another? He had the talisman Evelyn gave him just before she died from the stress of covering up how he, Ethan Morgan, had ripped and chewed her only grandson to shreds.

That wasn't a happy thought! Even if he'd undo that tomorrow morning. And even if he'd undo this victory party. And undo his whole life over the last two years. And undo Trixie and Captain Morgan as an item.

But what about Sarah? He'd be dating her, the way he should have . . . . Sarah or Trixie? Trixie or Sarah? Sarah and Ethan were just friends, but Sarah didn't really go for jocks. And in a girlfriend Ethan wanted one that, like Trixie, would . . . .

Still before he was a werewolf, and his personality had been unnaturally changed, Sarah would have been just the girlfriend for him. Or was he fooling himself?

Ethan's eyes spun in his sockets in the confusion of it all; the weirdness of his situation; the impossibility. All he knew is what he has already settled upon; to do the right thing and help Sarah and Erica erase this entire demon-created timeline from existence!

"I promised myself I wouldn't think of this . . . not tonight" Morgan said to himself bitterly. "Oh, what the hell!" Morgan thought bitterly, after someone passed him a drink for the umpteenth time. "It's not like a drink or two is going to make me act cracked."

Even with the talisman, a big problem for Morgan was the urge to act like a wolf . . . or at least a particularly untrained and vicious dog. And after a few beers he felt it. But he didn't mention it to Sarah when he texted her.

A mix of canine instincts, impatience, anger, regret slowly began to roil in his head.

For a while, Morgan decided to ignore it the best he could. Then, under the influence of the equivalent of a few bottles of beer, the same thoughts played over and over in his head . . . .

"It's really my last night alive as ME" "I'm NOT the same man I was two years ago"

Morgan finished his last pool game.

"The hell with this" he told his opponent. "Table's yours. I didn't come here to play pool all night."

Morgan then began to act strangely, even for him. It involved physically picking up Trixie off the sofa, and carrying her in a fireman's carry.

"Oh Morgan!" cooed Trixie. "This is fun!"

"I've only begun" said Ethan into her ear. "Are you ready to be crazy in front of everybody?"

"I've always said you're not crazy enough" said Trixie, with a giggle. "At least not in public."

"You're the head cheerleader" said Ethan Morgan, "And even though I'm not in Grade 12, I'm really the big man on campus. Let's show 'em what we're made of!"

This involved going into the middle of the crowded room, and fervently kissing Trixie for the audience around him. And then, in front of the bar, gripping her, dipping her, and far more fervent kissing.

Under ordinary circumstances, even as a jock, Ethan Morgan would be humiliated to be caught making out by a crowd of people. But right now it was combination of being with the hottest girl in school and bragging about it to everyone else (although everybody already knew they were an item, and Trixie was still draped in Ethan's jacket). Ethan finally stopped kissing Trixie after hearing a girl mutter somewhere that it looked like their lips had been glued together.

Ethan looked for the girl who spoke, but she was hidden by the crowd of teens. It seemed as if a lot of the upstairs crowd had invaded the so-called "VIP" room in the basement. The old, true, cautious geeky personality of Ethan Morgan idly thought about the fire hazard of so many teens with so little way out of the room. And there was, in the background, the light of the full moon shining weakly down through the high windows of the basement room. But in front of them was a mass of cheering, applauding teens. And, better yet, on Ethan's right shoulder, was the smooth, warm, curvy, nubile body of Trixie.

"Valentine's Day" Morgan remarked to the teens, putting his arm around Trixie and giving her a squeeze.

Someone at Morgan's side handed him a small bottle of Captain Morgan's Rum. Ethan held the bottle up, smirked, and chugged a few swallows straight.

"Beer before liquor, never been sicker. . . NOT" Morgan joked. "Where's my main man Hodges?"

"The mug, er, dude's passed out upstairs" said a voice from the side of the room. "Erica ditched him for some other guy."

That voice was Colby, who had joined the crowd in the basement game room. Coquette stood behind him, her arms crossed.

"Erica would" Ethan muttered angrily to Trixie.

"I think Barton's also gone out of commission" said another teenager in the crowd.

"Out of commission?" said a girl near him. "Who says that?"

Malcolm Brunner, that was who. He was geeky, but he had sold "Captain Morgan" his car so he could always count on an invite.

"You heard him!" said Derek Brunner, Malcolm's cooler brother. "Out of commission!"

"Well, it leaves it to me!" said Ethan, as he grabbed and held up the basketball trophy for all to see.

In one leap he jumped atop the bar. Trophy and all. To some scattered applause.

Ethan paused a second; even through his tobacco-infused nostrils the room of teens stunk to him. For once, he found this funny, and smirked. He looked at Trixie. Her scent (for some animalistic reason he guessed) seemed more luscious than her lips.

Ethan helped Trixie up beside him; gave her another quick kiss, and addressed the crowd, slightly slurring, slightly growling, at the start.

"Norrember . . . November we took the football trophy under Tom Towers. Just Wednesday afternoon, your team kicked the butts of the Erie Shores teams in basketball under me. It's only February, guys. We've still got hockey, baseball, track and field to go, guys. And, after that, you've got me here for one more year."

The rum hit Ethan's head early. The cheering crowd, the liquor, Trixie. He was too happy for his own good. He momentarily forgot he wouldn't be here as he was for one more day, let alone one more year. He couldn't help himself . . . .

"AHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

This was the howl that Sarah heard.

Trixie clapped.

"I love your wolf howl!"

"Learned it in Moles" Morgan lied to the crowd.

When you can get a crowd of "cool" teens at a wild party to cheer the Mole Scouts, you really know you have them eating out of palm of your hand!

Morgan looked annoyed as the dogs in the neighbourhood echoed the howl, but he shrugged.

"Guess it's the full moon with them" he joked.

"MORGAN!" "MORGAN!" cheered the room, as Ethan jumped down from the impromptu stage self-evidently proud of himself.

"Wow!" muttered Colby to Coquette. "A werewolf mocking the full moon. I never thought I'd have heard that. Like one of us insulting our fangs."

"Idiote!" retorted Coquette. "We do not compare ourselves to dogs, even a clever and brave one like Ethan Morgan! I am impressed, at how you say en Anglais, audace, that is to say his, er, chutzpah."

"Chutzpah is Yiddish, Mademoiselle" said Colby petulantly. "Not English. You're looking for audacity, gall or nerve."

"Do not be, how you say, the pedant" sniffed Coquette. "You have the package of blood in your pocket. When are you going to get on with your so-called plan?"

"Now" said Colby.

The undead teen now wore a wide, cruel toothy smile. He cupped his hands around his mouth.

"GET MORGAN A FUNNEL!" yelled Colby. The undead teen wore the smile of a deranged killer.

Colby held up a "beer funnel", that is to say a funnel with a hose attached to drink a good deal of beer quickly. Colby had, on a hunch, looked in Skyler Barton's room and fetched one of several. Skyler had apparently wanted to pass out a few that night, only it had slipped his mind.

"FUNNEL" "FUNNEL" went up a call.

Ethan Morgan got down, and drew up a large pitcher from behind the counter. He looked up at Trixie with a smirk

"Is there any more Molson's?

Sarah ran into Erica on the street. There was no question what Erica's mechanical walk down the street meant. She had been glamoured; and she could only have been glamoured by Coquette. There was only one thing to do . . . .

"Did you have to slap me and push me into the snow" Erica complained as she and Sarah made their way up to Barton's house. "Couldn't you just shake me out of it."

"There's no time" said Sarah. "Coquette's already fed her undead party . . . ."

Sarah explained what had happened at Jesse's mansion.

Erica looked grimly at Sarah. Even in the crisis, Sarah was pleased to see that Erica's sympathies were entirely with the dead teens, not the murdering bloodsuckers.

"Well, now they're all really dead, not undead!" said Erica angrily. "Including that sick old man Andre. Have you ever seen anything more gross than an old immortal?"

Sarah ignored Erica's comment about an undead old man being grosser than any other vampire.

"Well, then listen to this" added Erica. "I remember what they were talking about!

"So she's trying to turn Ethan into a werewolf so he'll be a distraction from her murders tonight . . . or the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, as she calls it!" Sarah exclaimed. "I just heard Ethan howl, full force. Either he's a werewolf already or he's just howling again. There's no way of knowing."

"Last I saw, he was as human as usual" said Erica.

"Well, Ethan's definitely made his appearance at the party with Trixie . . .

"He's done more than that" Erica said.

"Whatever" said Sarah, with a tinge of bitterness in her voice. "We agreed that his life was so messed up, that he's not cheating on me in this reality."

"It makes my head spin" said Erica. "He obviously still has something for you, but he's stuck on that bimbo."

"Tempus's work" said Sarah. "But I think I know what to do with him if he shows up again. But what we really need is a plan.

"We have to avoid being glamoured . . . or "vampire hypnotism" as the guys call it now . . . ." said Erica.

"That Lucifractor can destroy them quickly, so there's our answer" Sarah replied.

"The only problem is that Coquette is second only to Anastasia in glamouring" warned Erica. "In some ways, she might even be better. You have to be careful not to look at her . . . not even get too close. Hit her from the distance."

"How much trouble is this Colby?" asked Sarah.

"Normal vampire" said Erica.

"If his name is Colby Flood, Ethan told me about him. The normal Ethan.

"Ethan isn't normal, either way."

"Ethan, Benny and Rory ran into Colby last summer in Toronto. This Colby was one of the three vamps trying to start a new vampire council. He was light-sabred into a pile of dust nine months ago."

"Who killed him? Ethan or Benny?"

Sarah stopped, she smiled outright.

"Rory"

"RORY?" Erica exclaimed. "I was dancing with a vampire staked . . . light sabred . . . by Rory? What a loser!"

The girls made their way into the party.

"Hey Sarah!"

"Sarah!"

"Sarah!"

"Looking for Morgan?" asked Derek Brunner, who seemed to be on his way out.

He was leading a small group of teens, which included Malcolm, another boy, and a few girls Sarah guessed must have been private high school kids who crashed (or were invited) to the party.

It was well past one o'clock now.

"Where is he?" asked Erica.

"Downstairs, with Trixie" said Malcolm. "You know, if Dirk isn't your guy . . . ."

"No, Malcolm" said Sarah sternly.

"She's stuck on Morgan" said one of the girls.

All this seriously angered Sarah. But she hadn't time to argue, nor was she going to start fighting Malcolm for hitting on her.

"CHUG-CHUG-CHUG-CHUG"

Ethan Morgan was still under his "vampire hypnosis". So it was explicable that he didn't mind Colby at close proximity. Here Morgan was, being cheered on by Trixie, while Colby carefully poured a pitcher of beer into the novelty funnel. Carefully so it wouldn't foam or spill.

Sarah and Erica spotted the sunglasses on the vampire immediately. It was obvious that Colby didn't trust his vampire nature not to be exposed so near a werewolf. As it was, although Colby looked amused, he had an impatient look upon him as if he wanted to get away as soon as possible.

"I can't believe it" Sarah groaned. "Ethan would never do something so crazy. Especially tonight."

"The Ethan we know wouldn't" observed Erica. "This guy's a binge drinker, he told you."

"CHUG-CHUG-CHUG" said a cruel voice at the girls' left. Tempus again. "You think Captain Morgan would let down all his buddies? It's peer pressure at its best.

"That's supposed to be Molson Canadian by the way" he snickered to the girls, before again disappearing.

The crowd around Morgan had thinned a little, so Sarah and Erica were able to get up close.

"That's not Molson Canadian" said a teen to the right . "It's supposed to be light yellow, this is dark and reddish. Looks like Rickards Red. That Colby dude is an idiot; he can't tell the difference."

The beer had been dark and red. The last of it disappeared down Ethan's throat.

But Sarah wasn't paying attention now. She had rushed up to Ethan's side.

"You know what you're doing" Sarah told Trixie fiercely. "He's asking to turn blue. You know, death by alcohol poisoning."

"Oh don't be a spoilsport! He can take it!" said Trixie, looking at Sarah with disgust. "WHOOO, MORGAN!"

"Beest beer I ever had!" said Morgan, getting up to a lot of cheering. "Man, it had body!"

"You and I know it" observed Colby. "Want some more."

"Pass"

The crowd did a last bit of applauding, there was a short round of arm-punches and backslaps, and finally Ethan was left alone at the bar with Trixie, Colby, Sarah and Erica.

"Aw, come on buddy!" joked Colby, with a vicious smirk. "Want to try another?"

"Okay, that's enough Morgan!" said Trixie, taking the pitcher and planting a kiss on Ethan's beer-soaked face.

Ethan smirked with a silly, half-drunken grin, but forced his face into seriousness when he saw Sarah.

"You showed? Cool. Jane finally let you go."

"None too soon" Sarah replied. "You know what that guy is?"

"A new buddy of mine" said Ethan. "Where'd he go?"

"The dead travel fast" said Sarah coldly, looking around. She put her hand on the Lucifractor in her pocket.

But Colby (and Coquette) were now lost in the crowd.

"You don't mean a vampire was hanging out with me?" said Ethan, amused.

"A what!" said Trixie.

She broke out into giggles, and then finally started laughing so hysterically she fell behind the bar.

"Too much to drink" Erica observed.

Ethan, drunk himself, helped her to a nearby stool. There Trixie continued to giggle idiotically, and looked as if she had trouble staying up. Still, she grabbed a bottle of beer that was on the bar.

Sarah looked at her in disgust.

"Doesn't that bother you?" asked Sarah.

"She's awesome."

"Not her! You know, hanging out with a vampire."

"Not to-niset . . . tonight" said Ethan, who looked as if the latest pints of beer suddenly hit his head as his eyes began to turn bloodshot as they watched. "I'll let the undead bloodsucker survive to slurp another day."

"You know what was in that beer, why it tasted so good to you?" added Erica.

"Hops, corn" shrugged Ethan.

"Blood" said Sarah. "Colby spiked it . . . ."

"DU-UUUDE" interrupted Hodges. "What did I miss?"

"Just who we needed" said Erica sardonically.

"You look like crap" Ethan told him.

"So do you, bud" replied Hodges amiably. "But you've drun your duty and gotten hammered-ed-ed."

Hodges and Ethan high-fived, but both missed and staggered.

Hodges had unexpected woke up, worse for the absolute worst black eye Sarah had ever seen. Not to mention a swollen nose that looked as if it had just stopped bleeding.

"I'm not surprised you showed up again" said Erica.

"Yeeah, I really showed that Colby I wassn't to be pushed around" said Hodges. "But, whatt's this about the beer."

Hodges, to Sarah's disgust, put his finger in the empty pitcher and licked the beer off his finger.

"Ugh" said Hodges. "Dude, what did youss drink? This stuff's sticky and weird? No way is thiss Canadian."

"Canadian Blood Services maybe" said Erica sardonically.

"You mean" said Ethan, who tried to pull himself together, but only staggered a little "I really drank beer mixed with blood?"

"Human blood" said Sarah.

"Sum gag" said Hodges. "Let's clobber, let's kill the guys who pranked you?"

"Did Evelyn ever tell you about the potion lycanthropes use to turn into . . . ." started Erica.

"Lycan-what?" said Hodges. "Is that French?"

"Evelyn mens-tioned it" slurred Ethan. "Buts she never expected me to drinks blood."

"Whose the guys who mixed up beers with blood?" Hodges continued. "That Colby steals my girls then poisions us?"

"Ew, but guys'll eat anything, you won't mind" giggled Trixie. "You beat him up Ethan!"

Sarah looked down and wondered what Trixie's thoughts were about a "guy" not minding drinking human blood. But she quickly turned her attention back to Ethan.

"If you find him" said Sarah. "But don't waste your time. We have to start getting you out of here before it takes effect."

"You don't rrr-understand" said Ethan, who now looked as if he had been scared sober. Or semi-sober. "Na, nothing to worry about. I have my talisman."

Ethan pulled out the strange waffle-looking thing from the chain around his neck. He turned paled and quickly stuffed it back.

"It's glowing Ethan" said Sarah. "Look at it. I don't think it's supposed to do that."

"Maybe you're overloading it" added Erica. "You haven't really changed yet but . . . ."

"Maysbe I put a littles strain on it" argued Ethan, "but . . . BURP . . . hic."

Ethan belched and hiccupped. Oddly enough it seemed to have staggered him enough so that he grabbed the bar. He then began to scratch his side. But what really struck Sarah and Erica was what happened next as he faced them.

Before their eyes, and in a matter of seconds, Ethan's Morgan's clean-shaven face grew a coarse, black stubble covering his cheeks, lip, chin and neck. The hair atop his head, which had previously been cut and combed as always, became tousled.

"Whats?" demanded Ethan.

Ethan glanced into a mirror behind him. Sarah could see him go rigid as he realized what was beginning to happen to him.

"It doesn't mean much . . . just stubbles . . . hic."

His fingernails suddenly, without warning, grew an inch long. Again in a matter of seconds.

"Ooh, I love the beard Ethan" said Trixie, who stumbled off her chair and gave Ethan a hug and kissed him.

"ARE you mental!" said Ethan, pushing her back roughly onto a stool. He now displayed wide-eyed fear. He had either been scared into a semblance of sobriety, or starting to turn into a werewolf just did that. Okay, I've got to get out of here. Hic."

Ethan now displayed a look of wide yellow-eyed fear.

Trixie, for her part, giggled and adjusted her blouse.

"Sunglasses, Ethan" warned Sarah concernedly. "You're going fast."

"With each and every hiccough" said Erica.

"Breathes into a paper bag" said Hodges drunkenly. He had found a cold bottle of Molson Canadian under the bar and helped himself to yet another beer. "Wes did that in Moles."

Author's Note

To be continued. This chapter was almost named "Triumph and Tragedy". The next chapter will be called "The Party's Over".