Pittsburgh by Night
by Soledad
A "Pathways in the Dark" story
A side product to "The Toreador Chronicles".
Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this series – just like in the entire "Pathways" universe – belong to Mark Rein-Hagen (White Wolf), Joss Whedon (Mutant Enemy), David Hollander and Russel T. Davies (Showtime). Only a couple of original characters belong to me.
Rating: Teens, for the moment. It might or might not go higher later, in which case the rating will be modified.
Genre: Crossover with my Pathways vampire alternate universe and The Guardian.
Some background information:
In this particular AU, Justin has left Pittsburgh somewhen during Season 4, receiving an art scholarship from the DeLaigle Ateliers in Los Angeles. He's left town without telling anyone where he was going, save his mother, who was sworn to secrecy, however.
Accidentally, Brian applies for a rather large job for Kinnetic, a permanent association with the famous Girard Fashion House and its associated business partners. This is a job that could feed him for the rest of his life, plus he finds the idea of living and working in LA, at least part-time, intriguing.
He can't know, of course, that his future business partners are Kindred vampires, and that they've had their eyes on him for quite some time. So he flies to LA for an interview, not knowing that this was his first step in the Dark.
In LA, Brian eventually gets Embraced into Clan Toreador. Meanwhile in Pittsburgh, Cynthia is running Kinnetic practically on her own, and gets involved in business with one Horatio Ballard, a wealthy and very influential businessman. Little does she know that Ballard is a vampire of Clan Ventrue and works on the establishing of a strong Camarilla presence in Pittsburgh.
The story features various characters from both QAF and The Guardian, as well as original Kindred characters of my Pathways in the Dark universe. To quote James Walkswithwind, Pathways "is the AU that swallows all fandoms". This time, it was The Guardian's turn.
Part 01 – The Invitation
Cynthia had been surprised when the invitation to meet with Horatio Ballard came. As far as she knew, Kinnetic had no new business offer from the Ballard empire – and besides, in that case Ballard's lawyers, Fallin & Fallin would have contacted Brian first. That Nick Fallin hadn't said anything, despite the fact that they had been dating for the last couple of weeks didn't surprise her, though. Business was business and fun was fun. She was a consummated professional herself who wouldn't allow pillow talk to get in the way of her job, either.
She wasn't surprised to find Nick in Ballard's large private office. If this was going to be a business proposal, after all the tycoon would want his lawyer to be present. She'd half-expected Ballard's chief accountant, a sour-faced, fifty-something guy by the name of Alan Sovereign to be there, and Ms Matthews, Ballard young but surprisingly efficient secretary. The tycoon's bodyguard, a large, blond-maned Viking type also lingered in the background, but that wasn't a new thing, either.
The only unfamiliar person was a man in his late thirties, wearing way too casual clothes and a vague resemblance to Ballard. Frankly, he stood out of the refined environment like a sore thumb.
"My… cousin, Lawrence," Ballard introduced him.
"And the black sheep of the family, who had the cheek to become a police detective, instead of taking over some of the family business," Lawrence Ballard added with a grin, shaking Cynthia's hand unceremoniously.
Ballard Sr frowned. "Lawrence has just arrived from Chicago after a lengthy stay in hospital."
"Which is a nice euphemism for the fact that I spent a few years in a coma," Ballard Jr supplied helpfully. "Somehow that spoiled for me the fun of living in the Windy City, so I asked for a reassignment and returned to the bosom of the family – well, more or less. I'm still a cop."
"Good for you… I guess," Cynthia said, a little uncertainly. "If you can get along with Chief Stockwell, that is."
"Oh, he's not as powerful as he likes to believe by half," Lawrence Ballard replied blithely. "I think Mr Kinney's counteracting has proved that well enough."
"We'll deal with the Stockwell problem later," Horatio Ballard interrupted. "Right now, we're here because we want to make an offer to you, Ms Moore."
"To me?" Cynthia frowned. "But I can't accept or reject any offers – or negotiate them in the first place – without checking in with Brian first… I mean Mir Kinney."
"This isn't about Kinnetic or about ad business at all," Ballard said. "We intend to make an offer to you. Not as a representative of Ms Kinney but as a person."
"That's certainly flattering," Cynthia said, and she meant it. Working for Ballard would have meant to get into the upper league herself. "But I don't intend to leave Kinnetic. I've worked with Brian for a long time, and I like working with him, despite his tempers." Besides, Brian needed her as the only person who could deal with those tempers. But she wasn't going to tell them that.
"We're not offering you a job," Ballard said, completely unfazed by her refusal. "We're offering you a place in the family."
Cynthia gave him a suspicious look. "I don't intend to marry, either," she stated tartly. "Been there, done that, still have the scars."
The Ballards and their associates laughed.
"Neither does any of us intend to marry you," Horatio Ballard said. "What we're going to reveal to you might coma as a shock, but it doesn't matter. You won't remember any of this afterwards, should you refuse."
"Are you gonna drug me?" Cynthia asked, trying very hard not to panic.
Ballard Sr laughed again. "Oh, no, nothing so mundane. There are other ways… softer and more secure ones. But why don't you just hear me out first?"
"Perhaps because I feel as if I had walked into a lunatic asylum by accident?" Cynthia retorted, not minding that the tycoon might feel insulted and never have any business with Kinnetic again. Brian wouldn't want to be associated with madmen anyway. "All right, I'm listening… for now. But you better make it short. I don't have all the time of the world."
"You will, should you decide to join us," Ballard said. "You see, I was born in 1832 and haven't aged a day since 1881. Lawrence here is actually the grandson of my brother; he was born in 1900 and has not aged since 1939. Lorraine has been permanently twenty-one since 1987."
"Yeah, sure," Cynthia replied. "And Mr Fallin here has been this young and pretty since the Civil War, right?"
Nick Fallin laughed. "Actually, I've only been Embraced last year. I'm still just a fledgling."
"A fledgling what?" Cynthia asked incredulously.
"A fledgling vampire, as you humans would say," Ballard Sr replied calmly. "We prefer the term Kindred, though."
"Vampires," Cynthia repeated with the patience of someone who didn't want to provoke a bunch of obviously very insane people.
Ballard had apparently expected this reaction. He looked around at the others. "I guess we'll have to show her," he said.
The others shrugged – then something really weird happened. Something one should only have seen if pumped full of Brian's favourite drugs. Everyone present – the respectable-looking businesspeople, the pretty secretary, the languid police detective, the long-haired Viking type at the door – underwent the same frightening change. Their eyes turned silver, talons extended on the end of their fingers, and as they smiled, long, sharp canines gleamed in their mouths.
"That's enough," Ballard Sr said, and they changed back to their usual form before Cynthia's glassy eyes. "There's no need to worry, Ms Moore," he added soothingly. "We won't harm you in any way, and we wouldn't do anything without your consent."
"Since this is clearly a hallucination, someone must have spiked my drink," Cynthia stated. "But let's assume for a moment that I believe you. What, exactly, do you want from me?"
"I want to make you one of us," Horatio Ballard replied simply. "We're of Clan Ventrue; a Clan of businesspeople, mostly, though not exclusively. You'd match the requirements for a Ventrue perfectly: you're elegant, beautiful, talented, ambitious and ruthless. You're also principled and loyal, which traits are highly valued among Ventrue. Becoming one of us would strengthen those traits and open near limitless possibilities for you – although you'd have to give up something in exchange."
"What would I have to give up?" Cynthia asked warily.
"Your current diet and part of your freedom," Ballard answered. "When I Embrace you – that's what making a new Kindred is called – you'll become my Childe, and as such you'll owe me obedience. Kindred society still has definite… feudalistic traits, although many of those bounds have been loosened in the next century or two."
"Meaning?" Cynthia was still not buying any of it, but since this was a hallucination anyway. What could it harm to ask?
"Kindred law is harsh and the rules, while few, are enforced strictly," Ballard explained. "If any of my Childer goes against the rules, it's my duty to punish him or her; to kill them, if the wrongdoing is severe enough."
"To… kill them?" Cynthia repeated. The hallucination was turning into a nightmare.
"Don't worry," Lawrence Ballard grinned. "I've been with him for more than sixty years, and he hasn't killed any of us in all that time. Of course, we always behaved."
"Not always," Ballard Sr. corrected. "If I remember correctly, I was forced to… discipline you once or twice."
Cynthia looked from one Ballard to another. "I don't get it," she said to the younger one. "You're a police officer. How can you calmly accept that your uncle… great-uncle… whatever… might kill people for whatever mistake?"
"Not people," Lawrence Ballard corrected. "Other Kindred, if necessary. To protect himself, us… and the mortals among which we live. You must understand that it takes a lot to kill one of us. The usual weapons of the police forces won't do much good. That's why we police ourselves."
"Are you all Mr Ballard's… children?" Cynthia asked uncertainly.
"No," Ms Matthews replied. "Only Lawrence, Alan and Nick. Joe and I are his Brood-sibs."
"His… what?"
"His Brood-siblings," Ms Matthews explained. "We all have been Embraced by Lodin, the late Prince of Chicago at various times during the last two centuries. I'm the youngest of our generation… both as Kindred and by mortal age."
"Wait," Cynthia interrupted. "What prince?"
"The Prince is the Kindred who rules over all other vampires in a city or other territory," Ms Matthews said. "He ors he is responsible for the enforcing of Kindred law, so that the mortals won't become aware of our existence."
"Why shouldn't they?" Cynthia asked.
"Because we're few and they are many," Horatio Ballard answered. "They'd hunt us and kill us; in their eyes we're nothing but undead monsters who drink the blood of living things to survive."
"Don't you do that?"
"Of course we do," Ballard said. "But we don't harm anyone with it. We need little to sustain our existence; no more than what's taken by a blood test, and that only every two or three days."
"That still can't go unnoticed," Cynthia said.
"True; but we can make the people we feed from forget," Ballard replied. "And the process itself is very… pleasurable, for both parties involved. It's nature's way to enable us to feed."
"Somehow I can't really imagine that," Cynthia said.
"We'll gladly demonstrate," Ballard said and looked at his youngest Childe. "Nick, give me your arm!"
Nick obediently took of his jacket, rolled up his sleeve and extended his arm to his Sire. Cynthia watched with morbid fascination as Ballard extended a talon and cut a small path down Nick's inner arm. She was more than a little grossed out, and yet she couldn't turn her eyes away.
A thin rivulet of blood began to seep from the small wound, the droplets sitting on Nick's pale skin like tiny rubies. Ballard leaned over the proffered arm and licked along the cut, sucking lightly. Nick threw back his head, ecstasy clearly written in his usually so troubled features, his eyes fell closed. There could be no doubt whatsoever that he was enjoying the procedure greatly, and Cynthia began to shiver from the expression on his face.
"You… you feed from one another, too?" she asked in a strangely weak tone.
Ms Matthews nodded matter-of-factly. "Sometimes, yes, but in the long run we need mortal blood to survive. Although," she added thoughtfully, "some very ancient ones are said to have lost the ability to digest mortal blood, so they need to keep a herd of Kindred volunteers to feed them."
"A… herd?" Cynthia repeated tonelessly. Things had just become too morbid for her taste.
"Mostly mortals, but on occasion Kindred who're willing to share their blood with a certain vampire," Ms Matthews allowed. "It's officially not allowed, of course, save for the Prince, but there are always individuals who think they're above the law."
"And these are then killed for it?" Cynthia asked.
"Warned first, disciplined second and, yes, destroyed, if they show no intention to obey," Horatio Ballard said, licking the small wound on Nick's arm closed. "Blood dolls are a different matter, though."
"Blood… dolls…" now Cynthia was certain that she'd fallen down a rabbit hole somehow. This simply couldn't be real. There was no way.
"Volunteers who offer their blood to Kindred for payment or certain... benefits," Ms Matthews explained. "Using volunteers is allowed, but not exclusively. That would bound them to the Kindred in a way that can cause a dangerous addiction on the mortal's side and endanger the Masquerade."
"I see," Cynthia said, although she did not. Not at all. She was staring at Nick's arm in shock – there was no trace of the wound anymore.
"It would look the same on a mortal," Nick commented with a small smile. "Something in our saliva helps to heal the feeding wound very quickly."
"That's why very few people ever realize our existence," Lawrence Ballard added. "There's no scar, and we make them forget what happened. All they remember is a pleasant feeling – as if they had a very erotic dream."
"I'll take your word for it," Cynthia replied dryly, then she turned to Ballard Sr. "Look, I'm still waiting to wake up with a terrible headache, but just in case I won't, I… I really have to give this whole thing some thought. Actually, make it a great deal of thought."
"That's understandable," Ballard answered. "This is not an easy decision – and an irreversible one. Take all the time you need. We're in no hurry here."
"I'd also need to learn more about the whole thing," Cynthia continued.
Ballard nodded. "Of course. Nick will stay in touch."
"And it's still very likely that I'd say no," Cynthia said.
"That's your right," Ballard replied. "In that case we'll make you forget, and you can continue your life as if this conversation had never taken place."
Somehow, Cynthia had her doubts about that. But she found it better not to confront them with her doubts just yet.
"All right, then," she said. "I'll go now, if you don't mind."
"Not at all," Ballard replied jovially. "I'm looking forward to see you again."
But after Cynthia had left, he looked at his Childe in concern. "Lawrence, I want you to keep an eye on her. We've taken a great risk to reveal ourselves at such an early time."
"Why did you then?" Lawrence asked, already on his way out to organize – discretely – the observation of their future Clan member.
"Regardless of what I might have said to her, we do have a schedule here," his Sire replied. "Half a century isn't that much to build up a strong Camarilla presence in an as-yet-unclaimed city. We had to start somewhere – and she is the most promising candidate."
TBC
