CHAPTER 1
Nikolai Baranov weighed the .22 caliber pistol in his hand. If things were to go wrong tonight, the pistol would be of little help if any. He tossed it aside, but he knew he was not completely unarmed. A thick, wooden stake was strapped to his thigh inside his pants.
He opened the door of the Lincoln Navigator and stepped out into the Houston night. After 60 years, Nikolai still hated the July heat and thick humidity. Tonight his misery was compounded by the smell of chemicals and industry, which was strong here at the port. It was after 11 p.m., but there were still sounds of work rising up around him ruining the usual, gentle calm of his night. Yet for all these flaws, Nikolai burned knowing that he still did not control the Houston port and its vast wealth.
He brazenly walked into the warehouse followed by four of his lackeys. Inside, they charged through the darkness expecting to be challenged at any moment. They finally entered a huge storage area. The room seemed empty, but in the center of the room stood a wiry man behind a long box. The man and the box were illuminated by a single lamp that hung 30 feet in the air. Although darkness concealed much of the room, Nikolai knew the man was alone. Suddenly, he felt awkward having brought some many of his bodyguards.
The wiry man's skin was a dark brown, but his other facial features seemed European in nature. A large bulbous nose, salt and pepper hair, and wire-framed glasses finished the look. His clothes were nondescript, but Nikolai placed the man's origins to be either somewhere in the Eastern Mediterranean or Southwest Asia.
"Please, Nikolai, come closer" the wiry man encouraged with a thick accent. "The "package" is quite inert and thus safe."
Nikolai then realized that he had stopped short by several feet and had to force himself to close the distance to the box. There were few things a 200-year-old vampire needed to fear, but this box definitely contained a nightmare he could not ignore.
The box was made of dark, old wood. It was not solid, but rather made up of dozens of thick branches woven together with material that had not completely rotted away. The branches were so tight that the dry, crumbling earth remained confined inside. Nikolai noted fading, arcane symbols that had been painted on the sides of the box.
"Would you care to examine the contents to make sure all is well?" the wiry man asked.
"You know of my reputation?" Nikolai returned.
"I do, and I do not intend to cross you. Do you know what is needed to activate the package?"
Nikolai gave a silent affirmation.
The man smiled slightly and added, "Then with this, my obligations are complete." The wiry man held out a rolled up piece of parchment. Nikolai motioned, and a henchman grabbed the parchment. The wiry man's smile turned into a wolfish grin. His eyes never broke their connection with Nikolai's.
Nikolai then opened his hand and a briefcase was given to him. He then held it out over the box. The wiry man cautiously raised his own hand to grip the handle. As he started to pull, Nikolai tightened his hold. The wiry man's face tensed.
"The contents of this case," Nikolai spoke sternly, "are not to be used in this city. Not even in this country." He held his gaze on the wiry man for another second and finally release his grasp on the case.
"Although my hatred of Jews is not restricted by geographic boundaries, Nikolai, we have more pressing concerns to address. Rest assured, the contents of this case will not be used in this hemisphere."
Nikolai nodded.
"However," the wiry man continued, "I believe what is in this case is more humane than what lies beneath the earth in this box."
An uncomfortable pause passed between them. It was broken by one of Nikolai's lackeys who was listening to an earphone. He alerted Nikolai that she was here. Without breaking eye contact, the wiry man bowed his head and backed away until he was swallowed by the surrounding darkness. Nikolai ordered his men to take their places. Seconds later, he found himself alone next to the old box.
His mind raced as he wondered if he had forgotten any detail. He wondered if had overlooked any possible deviations that may occur and go beyond his control. He slipped his hand inside his pant's pocket. With the bottom of the pocket removed, he could easily grip the stake.
He never heard her walk in. She suddenly appeared in the light. Nikolai found himself moved by her extraordinary beauty. Although her red slip dress reached past her knees, it was obvious to him she was carried by lengthy, shapely legs. Her long blonde hair was pulled back and held in place by a black barrette. Ice-blue eyes and professionally painted red lips with matching nails allowed Celeste to turn the head of every man and some women every time she entered a room.
Nikolai felt his own dormant male urges stirring at the sight of her. But he realized that this was expected since it was part of her power as a Toreador. Nikolai knew all to well that in mere seconds this so-called woman could be as lethal as the contents of the box between them.
Celeste stopped fifteen feet away to assess the scene. When Nikolai failed to say anything, she started. Her voice was slow, deliberate, and definitely stirring.
"Okay, let us start with the obvious. Since when does the Brujah Primogen travel to Malkavian territory without a small army?"
"Because discretion matters. Having you seen in Brujah territory might complicate our plans. Furthermore, Brujah are not concerned with the trash calling themselves Malkavian."
"Interesting. You would think that Malkavian territory would be the last place for discretion given that our Prince uses them as body guards."
"And the last place they would expect such conspiracies to take place. However, Celeste, all is about to change."
"And the box?" she asked.
"The solution to our mutual problem. Come have a look. Now, Celeste, why that face? We have come to far for our plan to be torn apart by mistrust."
Her hesitation ended quickly, and she approached with a boldness that impressed Nikolai. When she looked in the box, she looked back into Nikolai's face for answers.
"How is our Prince doing these days?" Nikolai queried.
"Growing suspicious of my loyalty by the minute."
"Does he suspect...our involvement?"
"Not yet, but it is only a matter of time. What it is in the box?"
Nikolai was relieved with her answer. He rubbed his chin to give the sign to his cohorts.
"Then our timing is perfect. This box, my dear Celeste, is our bastard prince's demise. It will of course require a few sacrifices to initiate its start."
She must have recognized the tiny sound that raced toward her out of the darkness. Her eyes narrowed with anger and she spat "You back stabbing, Brujah bastard!"
Nikolai watched as she twisted sideways with blurring speed to dodge the first crossbow bolt hissing toward her. It slammed harmlessly into the side of the box. With the same impossible speed, Celeste turned completely around to escape the second bolt.
Her hair whipped around. Nikolai snatched up the flailing hair. She grunted as she was ripped off her feet and pulled backwards across the old box. Nikolai savagely plunged the stake through her chest. The empty warehouse echoed with her short, startled scream of pain and surprise.
Nikolai stepped back to admire his work. Celeste's shaking hands gripped the bloody stake. She had no strength to remove it. He knew her lifeblood was pouring out of her back into the dry earth. Celeste's face twisted into a mask of anger rather than fear. Nikolai edged closer to her.
"Well, Celeste, I would offer you pain killers, but I am afraid nothing would be strong enough. So...why bother. It is unfortunate that you will not get a chance to see Houston under Brujah control, but don't die without knowing I appreciate your sacrifice."
Nikolai smiled, and then he suddenly stopped. Something had touched his mind. He suddenly felt very vulnerable and very afraid. He could see that it had touched Celeste's mind as well. Her face was now stricken with panic.
Fighting an overwhelming urge to flee, Nikolai turned and briskly walked away. Behind him, Celeste let out a long, chilling moan that Nikolai knew he would not soon forget.
Nikolai Baranov weighed the .22 caliber pistol in his hand. If things were to go wrong tonight, the pistol would be of little help if any. He tossed it aside, but he knew he was not completely unarmed. A thick, wooden stake was strapped to his thigh inside his pants.
He opened the door of the Lincoln Navigator and stepped out into the Houston night. After 60 years, Nikolai still hated the July heat and thick humidity. Tonight his misery was compounded by the smell of chemicals and industry, which was strong here at the port. It was after 11 p.m., but there were still sounds of work rising up around him ruining the usual, gentle calm of his night. Yet for all these flaws, Nikolai burned knowing that he still did not control the Houston port and its vast wealth.
He brazenly walked into the warehouse followed by four of his lackeys. Inside, they charged through the darkness expecting to be challenged at any moment. They finally entered a huge storage area. The room seemed empty, but in the center of the room stood a wiry man behind a long box. The man and the box were illuminated by a single lamp that hung 30 feet in the air. Although darkness concealed much of the room, Nikolai knew the man was alone. Suddenly, he felt awkward having brought some many of his bodyguards.
The wiry man's skin was a dark brown, but his other facial features seemed European in nature. A large bulbous nose, salt and pepper hair, and wire-framed glasses finished the look. His clothes were nondescript, but Nikolai placed the man's origins to be either somewhere in the Eastern Mediterranean or Southwest Asia.
"Please, Nikolai, come closer" the wiry man encouraged with a thick accent. "The "package" is quite inert and thus safe."
Nikolai then realized that he had stopped short by several feet and had to force himself to close the distance to the box. There were few things a 200-year-old vampire needed to fear, but this box definitely contained a nightmare he could not ignore.
The box was made of dark, old wood. It was not solid, but rather made up of dozens of thick branches woven together with material that had not completely rotted away. The branches were so tight that the dry, crumbling earth remained confined inside. Nikolai noted fading, arcane symbols that had been painted on the sides of the box.
"Would you care to examine the contents to make sure all is well?" the wiry man asked.
"You know of my reputation?" Nikolai returned.
"I do, and I do not intend to cross you. Do you know what is needed to activate the package?"
Nikolai gave a silent affirmation.
The man smiled slightly and added, "Then with this, my obligations are complete." The wiry man held out a rolled up piece of parchment. Nikolai motioned, and a henchman grabbed the parchment. The wiry man's smile turned into a wolfish grin. His eyes never broke their connection with Nikolai's.
Nikolai then opened his hand and a briefcase was given to him. He then held it out over the box. The wiry man cautiously raised his own hand to grip the handle. As he started to pull, Nikolai tightened his hold. The wiry man's face tensed.
"The contents of this case," Nikolai spoke sternly, "are not to be used in this city. Not even in this country." He held his gaze on the wiry man for another second and finally release his grasp on the case.
"Although my hatred of Jews is not restricted by geographic boundaries, Nikolai, we have more pressing concerns to address. Rest assured, the contents of this case will not be used in this hemisphere."
Nikolai nodded.
"However," the wiry man continued, "I believe what is in this case is more humane than what lies beneath the earth in this box."
An uncomfortable pause passed between them. It was broken by one of Nikolai's lackeys who was listening to an earphone. He alerted Nikolai that she was here. Without breaking eye contact, the wiry man bowed his head and backed away until he was swallowed by the surrounding darkness. Nikolai ordered his men to take their places. Seconds later, he found himself alone next to the old box.
His mind raced as he wondered if he had forgotten any detail. He wondered if had overlooked any possible deviations that may occur and go beyond his control. He slipped his hand inside his pant's pocket. With the bottom of the pocket removed, he could easily grip the stake.
He never heard her walk in. She suddenly appeared in the light. Nikolai found himself moved by her extraordinary beauty. Although her red slip dress reached past her knees, it was obvious to him she was carried by lengthy, shapely legs. Her long blonde hair was pulled back and held in place by a black barrette. Ice-blue eyes and professionally painted red lips with matching nails allowed Celeste to turn the head of every man and some women every time she entered a room.
Nikolai felt his own dormant male urges stirring at the sight of her. But he realized that this was expected since it was part of her power as a Toreador. Nikolai knew all to well that in mere seconds this so-called woman could be as lethal as the contents of the box between them.
Celeste stopped fifteen feet away to assess the scene. When Nikolai failed to say anything, she started. Her voice was slow, deliberate, and definitely stirring.
"Okay, let us start with the obvious. Since when does the Brujah Primogen travel to Malkavian territory without a small army?"
"Because discretion matters. Having you seen in Brujah territory might complicate our plans. Furthermore, Brujah are not concerned with the trash calling themselves Malkavian."
"Interesting. You would think that Malkavian territory would be the last place for discretion given that our Prince uses them as body guards."
"And the last place they would expect such conspiracies to take place. However, Celeste, all is about to change."
"And the box?" she asked.
"The solution to our mutual problem. Come have a look. Now, Celeste, why that face? We have come to far for our plan to be torn apart by mistrust."
Her hesitation ended quickly, and she approached with a boldness that impressed Nikolai. When she looked in the box, she looked back into Nikolai's face for answers.
"How is our Prince doing these days?" Nikolai queried.
"Growing suspicious of my loyalty by the minute."
"Does he suspect...our involvement?"
"Not yet, but it is only a matter of time. What it is in the box?"
Nikolai was relieved with her answer. He rubbed his chin to give the sign to his cohorts.
"Then our timing is perfect. This box, my dear Celeste, is our bastard prince's demise. It will of course require a few sacrifices to initiate its start."
She must have recognized the tiny sound that raced toward her out of the darkness. Her eyes narrowed with anger and she spat "You back stabbing, Brujah bastard!"
Nikolai watched as she twisted sideways with blurring speed to dodge the first crossbow bolt hissing toward her. It slammed harmlessly into the side of the box. With the same impossible speed, Celeste turned completely around to escape the second bolt.
Her hair whipped around. Nikolai snatched up the flailing hair. She grunted as she was ripped off her feet and pulled backwards across the old box. Nikolai savagely plunged the stake through her chest. The empty warehouse echoed with her short, startled scream of pain and surprise.
Nikolai stepped back to admire his work. Celeste's shaking hands gripped the bloody stake. She had no strength to remove it. He knew her lifeblood was pouring out of her back into the dry earth. Celeste's face twisted into a mask of anger rather than fear. Nikolai edged closer to her.
"Well, Celeste, I would offer you pain killers, but I am afraid nothing would be strong enough. So...why bother. It is unfortunate that you will not get a chance to see Houston under Brujah control, but don't die without knowing I appreciate your sacrifice."
Nikolai smiled, and then he suddenly stopped. Something had touched his mind. He suddenly felt very vulnerable and very afraid. He could see that it had touched Celeste's mind as well. Her face was now stricken with panic.
Fighting an overwhelming urge to flee, Nikolai turned and briskly walked away. Behind him, Celeste let out a long, chilling moan that Nikolai knew he would not soon forget.