The wind had started to pick up and Oberon could hear the howling in the chimney.   He stood looking at the picture entitled The Delirium Tremens.   It brought him a great deal of pleasure.  The artist had captured the opening of a portal, perfectly.  And with the two moons, shimmering in the night sky, it reminded him of home.


The picture was calming and soothing and helped to fill the visual need he had to be where his heart was created.

Because right now he could put a fucking stake through the cow that was bellowing and mooing about his perfect time line and how she could improve upon it.

Turning to Glorianna, the Fifth…a fifth of what he was not for real sure…he suppressed a chuckle.  Listening to her run at the mouth made him wish for a fifth….of anything.  Right now, whiskey would be nice.  Or fuck, the amber liquid of Scotland would do him just as well because here he stood listening to her out of some type of duty.

Several hundred years ago, he and the other vampire royals that had settle here, had struck a gentleman’s agreement.  And in that time and place it was a useful thing.

Now that he had his powers back, the only useful thing that agreement  accomplished was for them not to see it coming when he threw them in front of Northman before he, Oberon the First and the Last, brought the world of this realm and the Blue Realm, to its knees.

“My dearest,” he smiled charmingly at her.  “Do I look like I care about what you think?  I have set the plan.  We shall work the plan.  We shall not deviate from the plan.”

“What?” she sat up straighter.

“Now,” he smiled.  “I did not invite you here.  I am not going to invite you to shelter, here.  Sunrise is coming and I am not going to allow you to bleed all over my carpets.  So take yourself forthwith, forsooth, to some other place of refuge.

Just not in my hunting grounds, my haunts or my hometown.  If you do, I will know.  My Weres will tell me all about how they found you and feasted on you today.  So be gone now,” he said with a smile.  “Either return to your home and be a blessing to your husband, your king, or meet the true death and free him from the curse that you are.”

“You bastard,” she screeched. “You can not….” she hissed.

“Marcus,” Oberon did not even turn his head toward his butler,  “if you would please…”

“I rescind your invitation,” the butler said as the doors blew open, snow swirled in and screaming obscenities, Glorianna the Fifth was blown out the door and head long into a  snow bank with her skirts up around her waist and her ass exposed to the elements.

“Thank you Marcus,” Oberon smiled, then made a disgusting face at the legs that were kicking to free the body that was buried as the doors closed.

“Will there be anything else tonight, Sir?” Marcus asked as they walked back into the main part of the house.

“No, please lock up and retire for the day.”

Hearing the library doors pulled closed, Oberon poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat down, leaning  back into the leather arm chair that faced the fire and thought about the conversation.  Actually what she had said made sense.  The New Moon was coming.  In the dark, humans got fearful and would stay indoors.  Not that they could help Northman or any other mainstreaming vampire, but it kept witnesses and those pesky camera phones at home where they belonged.

Sighing, he thought about home.  “I need a sign,” he said out into the universe.  “I know there are those that believe that I am superstitious, but I believe in signs.  I know in my heart, my dearest sister, that at times you can hear me.  And I want to come home.

My birthday is approaching,” he sobbed.   “You promised me that you would call me home on my birthday. Please,” he said to the fire, “please.  Call me home.  I miss you my sister.  I miss you my queen,” he sobbed for effect and even wiped at his eyes.

“Oberon,” he heard the voice from the chimney.

“Sister?” he leaned in.  “Sister. Is that you? Please!  A sign!”

“Oberon,” the sparks hissed as they went up the chimney.  “Your queen calls you to come home.”

Sitting back in his chair, that was not Mab’s voice.  That was a male.  So, it had finally happened.   She had indeed secured the throne.  Probably re-married to some prince that gave her creditability and had appeased both sides.

Please the realm,” he rolled his eyes  “she has not given birth.”  Not that he objected to killing a child, but he was just a little put out.  Could she not spare one moment for him? Could she not invite him, herself.

“Your queen calls you…” he spit.   “She did not do the calling…probably was not even her prince who did the calling.  Probably some lackey….some…some…nobody…” he hissed.  “Here, call my brother,” he said in an off-handed way.

“But still,” he stared at the fireplace, willing it to speak, again.  “I have been waiting on a sign.  That could have been the wind, or, it could have been my sister calling me home in time for the royal celebration of my birthday.

Now that would be fitting, crown myself king on my birthday,” and he let his mind wander through that fantasy.

His mind drifted to the weapons vault.  Any weapon in there would do the trick of killing anyone who stood in his way.  But he would need a sign to open the vault.  Something that said…that said….  “King Oberon,” he smiled.

Downing the drink, he let his mind think about The Death from Above. Now there was a drink worthy of a king.   Nothing here was worthy of a fae king!  The wind howling outside could not even do it on the proper key.  The fire could not keep time with the wind. The the…he felt the fury build inside of him.  This world was a piss poor imitation of his home.  Hefting the crystal glass, he threw it into the fireplace.

Mab, his dearly…beloved…sister…had left him one way home.  It was not to be used until she called him in her hour of need.  “You will know,” she had told him.  “I will battle until they think I am defeated, that is when you are to appear with the weapons of the great and good Queen Sookie,” she had laughed hysterically,  “and destroy them all.  Swear,” she had cut his wrist and her own.

“I swear,” he had answered solemnly as they had pressed their bloodied wrists, together.

That had been in Paris over two hundred years, ago.  Well, promises, like milk, and other thing that you kept in the fridge, could expire.

He carefully recalled the labyrinth Mab had laid in place to open the portal. Once he had the map firmly fixed in his mind…he took another look around him.  The Armory of the Hawk and Lily had served him well.   He had no deep affection for anyplace except home, he told himself!  This was just a building.  This was just a business.

This was just a place to house the secrets of the fae universe, he grinned!

Would he be back here…oh yes, absolutely!  In triumph!

He had made up his mind.  If nothing else, opening the portal and going home, it would be a gift to himself.

To go home, it was time to take himself to the most haunted city in the U.S.  A place where spirits moved about at will and were welcomed to follow the blood trails that had been laid out for them.

Because of the spirits, it was also the most vampire free city in the world and the most fae friendly.  Vampires and their fear of ghosts.  Fae and their love of anywhere there were no vampires.

“Savannah, Georgia,” he thought and poof, he was there.

“I need the grave dirt on my shoes from Colonial Park Cemetery,” he said as he walked across the graveyard.


“Then, I must walk the streets of town, by fours,” turning left, then right, every fourth block.

Watching the houses as he walked past, he smiled.  “Plenty of spirits out tonight,” he smiled as he bowed his head to each flat, white orb he encountered.  “Good, I will be able to pull from their energy to help me open the portal.”





Walking past one building he stopped to contemplate what he saw.  “Poor fae  bastard,” he shook his head.  “The scorched marks on that wall, someone did not make it through.”


Mab had showed him in Paris what it looked like when a portal did not receive a fae, properly.  The fae would live on in whatever they was caught in.  That wall, he shuddered.   The first hundred years there would have been a lot of weeping that traveled the walls throughout the building.

If you opened a portal out in the woods and it failed, at least you had the opportunity to spend the rest of your days in a tree or perhaps an animal.  To be caught in mortar and bricks, he shuddered at the thought and wished who ever was caught in  there, well.

It was interesting walking through the squares.  This city never slept.  The magic saw to that.  The magic that was native to the ground was older than the magics that the Old World had brought with them.  The mix was good and it was interesting.

It was not boring walking these streets and watching the light filter in past the dark.

His walk had brought him to this building and a new dawn.


Admiring the sign, two moons, he was most pleased, he popped in and then started counting  his steps and as took the stairs to the basement.


He was not one to let a door that no longer existed stand in his way.  Popping to the other side, he continued his trek.  Out through a tunnel, up a flight of stairs and then he was looking across to his fate, his destiny.


Number 206.  All multiples of two.  Walking up to the door he knocked and said, “Two, Zero, Six, I am in a fix. I wish to go home.  Grant me the passage that I have been shown.”

Opening the door he walked through and into another cemetery.

His sister did so seem to love what the humans attached, wings, too.


He admired the Italian artist as he walked through Bonaventure.


Nodding to and bowing his head to the angels that stood watch here he should have known that this is where she would hide the portal.

“Oh ouch,” he said as he spied a portal that had failed to function properly.


“So Mab was not the only one who thought this would be the perfect setting to hide a portal.”

A few more steps and he had finished counting off his pace.  “There you are my beauty,” he smiled.


“And you are holding two wreaths.  Are those perchance, olive wreaths, to be placed on the new king’s head?” There she stood watching over Joseph Pearce and Beulah Bliss.  Now that did make his chuckle.  Bliss was  Mab’s pet name for Oberon.

He could feel those spirits that were in attendance watching him.  Good, most excellent. They did not know it but they were about to be drained for the greater good.  He was going home on more than enough energy.

“Two, two, two, two, two,” he began chanting as he watched the air began to shimmer behind the angel that was going to bring him bliss!

“Two, two, two, two,” his voice grew stronger and his heart leapt in his chest.

“Give him just a glimpse of the two moons and the night sky,” Sookie said. 

“Yes, my Queen,” Clayton was all fang as he watched the traitor and opened the portal.  “Good times.”

blue moons rising on a stary night

“Yes, yes, yes!” he shouted.

“No,” Oberon screamed as the shimmer began to dissipate and the scenery was once more that of the shrubs and trees of the cemetery.

“No,” he whispered as he stared at where his heart’s desire had been.  His hand, he realized was still outstretched as he brought it to his face and wiped his tears, away.

“What went wrong?” he sobbed.  “It was to be my birthday homecoming.”

Sitting down on the grass, he was bewildered and lost.  Then reality set in.  There was no burned smell, anywhere.  Standing, he could see no scorched marks, anywhere.  Well, just  what the fuck had happened?

With a careful mind, he began to reason through what had just happened. “I did as Mab instructed.  There was more than enough energy from those roaming spirits present for me to use.  The portal opened with ease and grace.   Why, there was even  plenty of time for one to call a greeting to me…” and then he paused.

“And for me to be seen,” he said in disgust.

“Oh dear sweet sister,” he snarled.   “Do you think me a fool?  What?  Did you think that I would bring weapons for you to use against me as I stepped across.  If you want Queen Sookie’s armory,” he smiled, “it will not be that easy.  This little whetting of the appetite shall not go unpunished.

Perhaps my next visit, I will bring you a very small peace offering from the vault.  You will see that I am harmless.  Perhaps after my second or third visit home, I will bring you a small knife that belonged to your mother-in-law.

Then, when we have gotten past our doubts about each other…then I will kill you.”




Dear Readers,

Oberon’s walk through town.  If you look closely at the four pictures  of the houses you will see the round flat orbs that he refers, too.

The guides on all the ghost walk tours I have been on say this is roaming spirits.



I added the two blue moons and the trees to the NASA photo.

Nasa Photo— taken from their public domain site and credited as per their instructions.

About This Image
A bluish nebula of glowing hydrogen expands out into the remains of the molecular cloud that collapsed to form the massive stars in this region. The effect is the result of strong stellar winds and high levels of ultraviolet radiation from the largest stars.
Credit: NASA, ESA, and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA)-ESA/Hubble Collaboration
Acknowledgment: D. Gouliermis (Max Planck Institute for Astronomy, Heidelberg)
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