"Like you've got one hell of a leather fetish," Kurt replied.

Jeremiah grinned and pulled at the tight vest he had on.

"Yeah, well, that goes for most of the patrons in the club."

"I still think you should wait at least one more night to do this," said Blaine. "That makeup artist should be here by that time and it would be safter if you had some sort of disguise."

"I told you, Blaine, I won't need a disguise. I've never been inside the club, so no one will recognize me. I'll be fine."

Blaine clenched his jaw, looking completly unconvinced.

"I just think you should have backup, that's all."

"Blaine, trust me, I appriciate that you're worried about me, but I don't think there's any reason to be. I've been in worse situations then this, remember?"

A grim smile flickered across Blaine's lips, but he didn't say anything.

Jeremiah glaced at his reflection one last time before sweeping out of the room. Once he was gone, Kurt put his hand on Blaine's knee.

"He can take care of himself, sweetheart."

"I know that," replied Blaine. "He's still my frined though and I--"

"I know," Kurt reassured him, "it's perfectly natural to worry about him. I'm worried about him too."

Blaine looked up at the human, "You are?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I didn't know if you guys really got along or not."

Kurt laughed, "Well, I'll admit that when I first learned about your guys' past relationship I was jealous. However, I trust you and he made it perfectly clear he was no longer intrested in you like that. So far, he's kept his promise not to lead you on and there's really no point in me holding on to insecurites, are there?"

Blaine smiled at him, "You're amazing."

"I know."
////
The gentle rocking motion of the train was putting Rock to sleep and Karofsky couldn't help but smile fondly at the boy.

He had sent the boy to a makeup/custom store they had found and had him buy supplies they could use for camouflage. Rock pretended to be the slave of a theather owner and was simply there to collect things for a production.

The human certainly had an eye for makeup that would disguise Karofsky's featuers perfectly and the vampire found himself truly appreciating the human for the first time sense he had bought him.

The train they were on was heading to New York where he hoped to find a sleazy vampire who would be willing to help a criminal. He heard about those vampires who fell into some pretty shady stuff and New York was apparently crawling with them.

Karofsky leaned back in his seat and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. He needed food, but he refused to wake Rock up since he felt the boy deserved some rest after everything the two of them had been through.

He just hoped he wouldn't have to put up with anymore shit once he got to New York.
////
Jesse St. James sat at the bar, tapping his fingers on the counter as he waited for the guy who had contacted him. He glanced at his new slave who was nursing a glass of water. He had decided to call her Sunshine out of a bizzare urge for irony.

Her blood wasn't as good as the other girl's had been, but her voice was amazing which had been the thing that really sold him on her.

"Are you Count St. James?"

Jesse turned to around to see a brown-haired, green-eyed vampire standing there.

"Yes. Are you Sebastian?"

"I am."

Sebastain sat down at the empty bar stool next to Jesse.

"Thanks for meeting me here."

"Whatever. What do you want?"

Sebastian's eyes drifted towards Sunshine who was watching him with apprehension.

"Would you mind sharing? I haven't had fresh blood for sometime and I don't have any money to buy a slave of my own."

"Why's that, you homeless or something?"

"Currently I suppose you could say that I am, but not because I'm too lazy to work. I was being kept prisoner by some fucking werewolves for a few months. They blew up my house and confiscated everything I had on me."

"Why would werewolves be keeping you prisoner?"

Sebastian glanced around the bar before leaning forwards to whisper to Jesse.

"Because they're part of an uprising that's taking place all around us but everyone's been too stupid to see."

"Are you trying to tell me that the werewolves want to take over?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. The humans too," Sebastian's eyes flicked towards Sunshine. Jesse gave her a brief look before scoffing at the information that had just been handed to him.

"That's ridiculous. The werewolves have been our allies ever since we took over and the humans are on such a short leash that--"

"Ah, but that's just it. They really aren't. Think about all those rebel colonies out there. They're starting to band together, reaching all across the nation and the entire globe for all we know. Can you imagine what sort of damage they and the werewolves would be able to do? Quite a lot."

Jesse remained silent as he digested this. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked eventually.

"Because I want your help to stop them," answered Sebastian. "I'm nobody really and so a lot of people won't listen to me, but if I had someone with authority on my side, well, then they might."

"What makes you think I'll help you?"

Sebastian grinned, "Because I can help you get your revenge on one Blaine Anderson."

Jesse's head jerked up at this and his eyes bore into Sebastian's, searching for a hint of deciet.

He found none.

"Wh-how?"

"I used to part of his coven. I obviously left him after he teamed up the werewolves and the humans."

Jesse snorted, "Figures. He's such a weakling."

"You're telling me. Did you know that he still retains the memories he had as a human? It's disgusting and completely unbecoming for someone of his stauts. You though, Count St. James, are how a count is supposed to be. Keeping your coven under control and setting a good example for them."

Jesse smiled broadly at the prise.

"Do you have anyone else following you?"

"Just those of the Dalton Coven that had enough sense to agree with me."

"Hm, give me a couple of days. I'll speak to some other counts and countesses. See if I can't get them to come over to the Carmel Estates to listen to your story."

"Thank you, Count St. James."

Sebastian stood up, preparing to leave, but Jesse stopped him.

"Here," he said, extracing some money from his wallet. "Go and get yourself a slave. I hear they just caught a few more rebles the other night. Tell them I sent you and they should let you have first pick."

"You're too generous, Count St. James."

"Where are you and the others staying?"

"At a shelter," Sebastian replied. "We explained our predicament to the owner and they're letting us stay there for right now."

Jesse nodded, "Well that should change soon. I promise."

Sebastian smiled and bowed to the count before leaving the bar.
////
"I don't think the cops are coming," Artie said. "The sun had just set when those bastards escaped so it can't be becuase they didn't want to risk getting caught in the daylight."

"I think Artie's right," agreed Stephen. "It's been nearly two hours now."

"I'm surprised no one's come to look for us," said Rachel. "I mean they couldn't have...you know. Could they have?" Her voice was full of panic at the prospect of everyone outside of Shelby's office being dead.

"I doubt it," answered Shelby, "but it's entirely possible that they locked up everyone else they kept alive."

"So they want us to starve to death or something?" asked Artie.

"I have enough food and water in here to last us a couple of weeks," replied Shelby. "So you don't have to worry about that."

"Still doesn't explain why they left us in here."

"The police might have thought it was a prank or they just have more importent things to worry about right now."

"Or maybe Smyth and the others are planning on coming back," suggested Rachel.

All of them exchanged uneasy glances at the thought.
////
"Welcome back, Mr. Bentley."

The hitman groaned, "Where am I?"

"In the hospital, Mr. Bentley," answered Pearlman. "Can you remember what happened?"

"Yeah...I was shot in the head by a fucking traitor to our kind."

"There's no need for profanity," said Pearlman. He came over to stand by the bed. Pearlman opened the door of a small refrigrator and produced a small bottle of blood. He poured it into a glass and handed it to Bentley.

"Not as good as straight from the tap, but it'll do for now. You nearly drained two humans so you won't need any more for at least a month. This will clear your head though."

"Do we know where they are? Those fucking party crashers, I mean."

"Once again with language, Mr. Bentely. To answer your question, no. However, my spies feel they are getting closer to finding their lair."

There was a pause in which Bentley drained his glass. He set it down on the nightstand. "Do you think they recognized you?"

"Possibly, but I think the better question is, did they trust what they're eyes saw?"

"Let's hope they didn't," Bentley said bitterly, "or it will just complicate things further."

Pearlman cocked an eyebrow, "What makes you think so? Even if they were to recognize me and gave the authorities some abbreviated tale of how they found me, no one will believe them. I'm suppose to be dead, remember?"

"Right...but if they even consider the idea, our kidnapping could go awry."

"Worry not, Mr. Bentley. The Royal Coven and their entourage will be here in a week and I will no longer have to hide. And you will have an entire host of people to kill."

Bentley smiled, "And I'll start with that human sympathizer."

"And I'll have that delicate little thing that was stolen from me," said Pearlman.