Nocturne Theater Rear Parking Garage, Los Angeles
Doctor Spectre and Alex stood next to a limo facing the theater door. The door opened and out of it stepped first the goon squad then the large fellow Spectre had told Alex was the Prince's Sheriff. The goons stepped forward eyeing the men warily. The Sheriff stood next to the door looking unimpressed. Finally, Lacroix stepped through the door and looked at them, first with surprise then he regained his composure with look that indicated he'd remembered something.
"Ahh, yes. You must be Dr. Spectre. Remington Spectre if I remember correctly? One of our agents brought me word of you as well as a letter of introduction from Prince Calebros of New York." LaCroix stated.
The Prince closed the gap between himself and the two men to a more conversational distance. Once close, the Sheriff took stock of Alex with a seemingly casual glance. However, afterward he began to stand much straighter in order to emphasize that he was just a touch taller than the large man.
Alex cast his eyes at the Sheriff. He didn't miss the obvious message in the Sheriff's posture change. He decided to send a signal of his own. He inhaled deeply, as if taking in the night air after his stint in the theater. This had the effect of swelling his already enormous chest and pectoral muscles even further. Spectre, for his part, ignored the two behemoth's silent standoff.
"Indeed, I am Doctor Remington Spectre. Am I right in the assumption that you are Prince LaCroix then?" Spectre answered with equal formality.
"I am indeed. Tragic that you come among us at such a bad time. When I told my underlings to have word sent to you to join our next public meeting, I had meant for them to invite you to a salon or other festive occasion. This was a hastily called affair to deal with a matter of justice. I will talk to them about their lack of discretion when following the exact letter of my instructions." LaCroix explained.
"Oh, it's no trouble. After all, aiding in matters of justice are among the services I offer. I helped Prince Calebros deal with a few such cases. The war to retake New York City attracted many mercenary kindred that came for the battle and ended up staying. Some of them proved...ill adapted to settling into the city's kindred society after the war was over." Spectre replied.
"Indeed, I have not heard just how you came to be associated with Prince Calebros and his court. Would you mind enlightening me?" LaCroix inquired.
"Not at all. I came to New York's branch of the National Museum following up on some research. At the time I was collaborating with a young archaeologist named Edward Thompson who, incidentally, happens to be a practitioner of magic. While there I came across a group of vampires that were engaged in the torture and murder of a group of youths that came down from Marshall College to visit the museum. I found out later it was a pack of Sabbat. I began hunting them just before the Camarilla liberation of the city. My hunt was still on going and while seeking out some of these monsters I was put into a position to aid and rescue a group of Camarilla soldiers. What started out as a battlefield truce eventually became a formal partnership. Calebros was as against causing death and mayhem as I am. I was told this was almost a universality among the Princes of the Camarilla. Furthermore I am not opposed to the relatively harmless feeding upon the unwitting. His desire for order and inconspicuous behavior meshed with my desire to protect the populace. However, with Calebros stepping down as Prince and my own business in New York long concluded, I came here to Los Angeles to start a business. I do hope to kindle a new and mutually beneficial relationship with the local Camarilla. I hear this is the current front of the war on the Sabbat." Spectre finished.
"You will find order is something we have in short supply these nights. With such glowing recommendations, I will indeed endeavor to make use of your services, Doctor. We do indeed have an overabundance of Sabbat." LaCroix admitted.
A group of vampires, who had the look of more well heeled goons, came running up the one in the lead shouted to LaCroix. "The Sabbat!"
"Yes, we were just discussing them. They have managed to make themselves quite a nuisance in the past" LaCroix said.
"I...the past? Prince LaCroix, I mean the Sabbat are here!" The goon stated.
"Damn it!" LaCroix looked at his Sheriff who nodded back.
"Gentlemen, I regret this meeting will have to be adjourned, but as you wished to see the local Sabbat in action this works well for you. My Sheriff will be heading to take care of this matter, if you wish to join him. I must retreat. It would not do to let them decapitate our power structure in the city. Good Evening." LaCroix said as he maneuvered past Alex and the Doc into his limo, which promptly drove away.
"He ran off?" Alex asked with disbelief.
The Doc shrugged and started following the Sheriff. "Let's follow the big guy. The Sabbat are animals, they kill and torture for fun. If they're here I want to end them."
Alex followed with a sigh. At least he was going to burn some calories.
The Front of the Nocturne Theater
Keith exited the theater unsure of where to go. The Prince had mentioned he would be taken to Santa Monica. When and by whom? Was this a trick? Perhaps they expected him to miss his ride and give them an excuse to kill him? He stepped out carefully still in thought. His reverie was interrupted by a raucous voice calling out to him.
"What a scene, man! Hoo-Wee! Then they just plop ya out here like a naked baby in the woods. How 'bout that?" A long bearded vampire in denim called out.
"A scene. The woman I love gets publicly executed and it's a scene? What sort of nightmare have I been tossed into?" Keith asked glowering.
"Ah.. look, kiddo, this is probably a lot for you to take in, so uh, why don't you let me show you the ropes. Whaddya say?" Jack offered a look of slight embarrassment coming over his face.
"Who are you why would you help me?" Keith asked suspiciously.
"I'm Jack. What's important is, I'm offering to help. You make it back from Santa Monica with your hide and we'll trade life stories, m'kay? 'Til then, I got about...this much time." Jack said holding his finger and thumb about an inch apart.
"I don't know. You, all of you just sat there while Odessa was killed. How do I know you aren't one of his toadies?" Keith said gesturing back in the general direction LaCroix had gone.
Jack pondered this. "She had friends, kid. She called around just when the night fell. She was trying to get herself and you out of here. I was one of the ones who was going to help. I was going to bring some boxes and crates that we could pack you both in and ship you out like cargo so you won't get fried by the sun. Anyhow, you'll have to trust your gut. Are you in or out? I can give you a quick run down that might keep you alive. With no one to show you the ropes properly it's the best you're likely to get."
Keith thought hard about the offer and could see no downside to listening "Alright, fire away Jack. I'm in."
"Alright, I don't have much time but I figure someone should at least fill you in on the bare bones stuff. You look wobbly; you even had a drink yet?" Jack asked appraising Keith's condition.
"Of blood, I'll assume? No, I haven't. I woke up like this and was promptly staked. You saw when I woke up." Keith replied.
"Oh man, we're poppin' a cherry here! Ha ha ha! Ah, you're gonna love this! Alright check it out. Blood: it's your new rack o' lamb, your new champagne - blood's your new fuckin' heroin, kid. Ha ha! Get ready though, cuz, hey, it's never as sweet as the first time." Jack said gleefully.
Keith looked at Jack with an uncertain gaze and wondered what he'd gotten himself into but followed Jack as he lead him away.
"Come on, down around the corner here, I saw this human Poor S.O.B. Can't find his car... hehehehe." Jack beckoned. Keith followed Jack's lead away into the night to continue trying to learn what he could about being a vampire.
A Short Distance Away
Alex followed the Doc who in turn was following the Sheriff and the Prince's goons. They found a old panel van that was crashed into a dumpster. Its doors were all opened. From the look of the vehicle, there were indications it had been hastily abandoned.
"The Sabbat drove in firing at us. We hit the tire and it crashed, but they boiled out after us. We ran. They didn't follow. I think they spread out all willy-nilly." One of the goons reported.
The Sheriff examined the potential paths of the Sabbat vampires. He then used hand gestures to indicate the goons should break up into two groups of four and branch out while he took the third path. He trudged off, ignoring the Doc and Alex. Despite this, the Doc continued after the Sheriff and Alex followed the Doc's lead.
The Sheriff paused seeing foes ahead. The Sabbat, hearing his approach, turned and began firing at him. The Sheriff held out a hand and called forth biting insects to attack his foes. The Doc pulled his pistol and aiming down the barrel took a carefully timed shot striking one in the head. Alex, meanwhile, had no need for such finesse. He unleashed his inner beast and transformed.
The Sheriff looked back while unsheathing his massive sword. He then stopped and looked back again in a double take.
Alex had assumed the dreaded Crinos shape; the battle form of the werewolf. Rather than a seven and a half foot tall human, the Sheriff, who had not known Alex's true nature, was confronted by eleven and a quarter foot tall death beast looking down at him. His already massive body bulged with an increased musculature. As a result, the tatters of his shirt littered the ground. The rest of his clothes had disappeared, replaced by a shining, silver-white fur. His hands and feet were now tipped with long, deadly claws and his now lupine head was filled with razor sharp teeth.
With a mirthless smile that was more of a leer, Alex leapt forward with a speed that nothing his size should have been able to achieve in such a short distance. He landed with a tremendous thud, completely crushing his victim, his enormous weight shaking the ground and leaving great spiderweb like cracks in the asphalt of the alley. He made sure the completely shocked Sabbat goon was truly dead by ripping his head off and smashing it into the ground, creating a smaller, companion cracks in the asphalt to those left by his colossal clawed feet.
The Sheriff looked at the Doc with an impenetrable stare.
"What? So he's a werewolf. He's killing your foes." The Doc said in a neutral tone.
The Sheriff stalked forward toward the battle his every motion signaling he was not thrilled with Spectre's little revelation.
The other Sabbat goon lifted his gun and fired a burst into Alex's mid section. The wounds, however, began to close before his very eyes. He had little time to panic before the Sheriff's blade sliced him in half.
Hearing more foes beyond, the Sheriff continued without stopping. Another group of Sabbat were in the next alley. He rushed them before they had time to fire. He hacked one down and with a back stroke of his blade broke another ones cheap sub machine gun.
With a roar, Alex charged. His mountainous warform still caused the ground to shake with every footstep as he approached with deadly speed. He slit one of the Sabbat from pelvis to throat with a single upward swipe of his claws. The last attempted to run only to have half his face blown off by a well placed shot from the Doc. Alex felt like he was being watched and looked up. From an upper window he could see the Vampire who had nearly be killed on stage and the one Spectre had called Jack. Both figures darted out of view as he looked at them.
Jack pulled Keith away from the window. "Jesus H. Christ! That big son of a bitch was a werewolf!"
"Werewolves are real too then?" Keith muttered.
"Just as real as the Sabbat I was telling you about. A werewolf though, whoo! They're nothing you want to tangle with. Don't get mixed up with that guy. Alright. We gotta vamoose out the back, quick. I'll stay and keep a watch out; you get into that office over there," Jack instructed.
Keith nodded and took off down the hall. Jack turned back and peeped out the window. He saw the very odd warband continuing on in pursuit of more Sabbat attackers. He pondered how a pet hunter and perhaps tame werewolf in the Prince's pocket would radically shift the Camarilla-Anarch power balance. Remembering the uncertainty of working with Lacroix in the voice of the hunter, he hoped he could be convinced not to back LaCroix.
Alex and the Doc continued following the trail of Sabbat activity slaying more of the wild vampires. It seemed the Sabbat aggressors were running when another gun blast caught Alex. He turned and sliced into his attacker only to note the difference this one was human. A quick swing from the Sheriff's blade cut down the other human attacker. Alex dropped from Crinos form in shock; his pants and shoes reappearing, his shirt, however, did not.
"Shit! He wasn't Sabbat he was a human!" Alex said in shock, breathing heavily as his torso fell up and down rapidly. His heart was surging in his chest, partly from the rush of battle and Crinos form, and partly from the torrent of guilt that now surged through him.
"Calm down. Alex." The Doc said, noting the look on the young man's face. "It looks like gang bangers, they were most likely in cahoots with the Sabbat, given the fact that they were here, well armed, and firing first." Spectre replied.
"Yeah, but he's not a monster, Doc, he's just a human." Alex lamented.
"Oh? Would he kill an innocent any less quickly? How many children die to gang violence compared to vampire attacks, Alex? Any species or being, supernatural or not, can be monsters and humans make some of the worst. At least some of the others have an excuse for starting down their path." The Doc said.
Alex looked at the man he'd killed unsteadily. He had killed before for his country or more for self defense of himself and his friends in his unit. He understood mentally what he had done while in the military had been his job. He was acting then on the authority of a government. He supposed the Doc viewed this the same way. This was his job. He was acting under the authority of whatever power had granted him his hunter abilities. Alex couldn't completely bury his conflicted feelings on the matter. They would take time to sort though.
"It looks like the Sabbat have been routed. They've high tailed it back out of the area leaving us the battlefield. I take it this happens a lot?" Spectre asked the Sheriff.
The giant vampire noded while putting away his sword.
"Unfortunate. Well tell your Prince that I will always help in ending Sabbat infestations. It's high on my list of priorities. Should he need help with their ilk again he need only call the number he has for my bar. Everyone there who answers the phone is knowledgeable about my activities and can be trusted to get me a message." Spectre offered.
The Sheriff noded and turned walking away.
"My head tells me you're right, Doc, but years of being raised on being a law abiding citizen scream at me this guy should have gone to jail. Something I'll have to work out, I guess. Have you, uh, you ever killed anyone you found out was innocent?" Alex asked hesitantly.
"Yes. It's not an incident I care to repeat, but the same thing happens to the police or soldiers like you were. You can only keep going with a guilty conscience and do everything you can to minimize the loss. The world is not a pretty or clean cut place, Alex, but I'd rather live with a few nightmares of my own than have to live with the nightmare of others losing people they care about to the monsters I didn't stop." The Doc said giving Alex a comforting slap on his enormous bare shoulder.
Two of the Prince's goons drove up in a car. They drove toward the theater front doors and honked the horn.
"What is that all about?" Alex wondered.
"Yeah, lets go check it out." The Doc said starting that way.
Before they could get far, a nearby garage door opened. The vampire named Jack and the new vampire they had seen during the trial on the stage were in the now open doorway They both looked like they had seen some action against the Sabbat.
"Keep your pants on! He's over here!" Jack yelled.
"Hey, hold up, kid. Name's Spectre. Not sure what your story is, but it looks like you've had a bad shake tonight. I want to find out your story and I don't trust anyone but you to tell it." He said gravely while handing Keith a business card.
"I'm Keith. Thanks. I can't stay to chat. Apparently I'm banished to Santa Monica for a while. So I can't miss this ride." Keith took the card with his scared right hand and put it in his pocket, not letting go of the baseball bat he had in his left.
"I'm Alex. Sounds like a bum deal if you ask me. Good luck, guy." Alex informed him with sympathy.
"Thanks, you too." Keith replied, breaking into a trot to get into the backseat of the goon squad's car.
As Keith got in, he heard the Doc ask Alex. "What do you think?"
Alex pondered. He put his hand on his cobblestone like abdominals. His stomach growled audibly. "I'm thinking pancakes. You want pancakes?"
"You're hungry again?" The Doc marveled.
"Oh, like you aren't! Combat is the most calorie burning thing you can do. Well maybe excluding soccer." Alex shot back.
Keith's car sped away, leaving him with that unusual snippet of conversation. The Doc and Alex watched him as the goons rushed him away. Spectre turned to Jack.
"You think he'll be back or are they going to shoot him and dump him in a ditch?" The Doc asked.
"They likely plan to send him on some suicide mission. But he'll be okay for a day or two at least. He might even make it back. LaCroix has to make it look like he gave him a fair shot." Jack admitted.
The Doc lit a cigarette and offered Jack one, who, with a shrug, accepted. The Doc took a few puffs, lost in thought, as Alex wrinkled his nose and backed away, not caring for the smell of the smoke.
"Guess the smoke hits the sensitive nose, eh? Never talked to a werewolf. Wasn't sure you talked other than snarling or incoherent cursing. Of course, I never bothered to really ask, most of the time I was too busy running whenever I saw one. Where did your clothes go when you changed? Do you always lose your shirt or you just like looking like a romance novel cover?" Jack quipped.
"The pants and shoes are enchanted. It's hard to do. Don't get any ideas, I have no idea how it was done. I had to get someone to do it for me. I chose the shoes and shirt to keep myself from getting arrested for public nudity after a transformation. I wish it hadn't been such a pain to get done. I'd have gotten my shirt done too. I liked that shirt." Alex replied.
"I've heard of you, Jack. You've got a reputation for being a dangerous lunatic. Despite that, I know I'm not getting the full story. So, where do I go to hear the other side?" Spectre asked.
"Tell you what, man, give me one of those cards. I can't exactly go telling a hunter and werewolf where my sort of people hang their hats. Neither of your sorts are known for playing nice with our kind. I'll talk to some folk, try to get them to talk to you. Better you know the full story than end up on the Prince's side because you didn't hear the other side." Jack admitted.
Spectre nodded and handed over his card.
"Alright! Well, one last thing before you go. Get out a pen. This is how to get to what I hear is a good pancake place." Jack said with a manic smile.
Spectre Books
Maria Grove was not a pretty woman. Her pale skin, limp brown hair and rather watery eyes gave her the look of someone recovering from a major illness. She had, in fact, spent much of her life in just such a state.
That morning she had risen early. She had an appointment to meet with a scientist to help her troubleshoot a problem. She hoped this professor was welcoming her with a genuine desire to help. Far too often Maria had found she was welcomed only as a curiosity. The rarity of talking to a projector had often proved too tempting and overwhelmed professionalism in other experts. With the sensationalism and media drama surrounding projectors, even supposedly professional people were not immune to curiosity.
For this reason, among many others, Maria was thankful to Doctor Spectre for being so courteous. He was, while mildly curious about her powers, not obtrusive of her privacy or simply a gawker. Why would he be? It seemed he had remarkable powers of his own. He interacted with a world she had only barely begun to explore. It was a world that both intrigued and frightened her.
She exited her room and took the stairs up from the sub-basement to the store room of Spectre's shop. She could hear the crew talking upstairs as well as the sounds of someone poking about the supply closets. Ignoring who ever was in the supply room, she made her way upstairs. Reaching the top she saw who had been talking; Mike Callahan, the bartender, noded at her and the barista, Cindy, gave her a cheery smile.
"Hey, Maria! We're just finishing up here, you know, closing everything down so the store can go to day shift mode. Amy is in the back getting fresh coffee. You want a bagel or anything? We don't have any egg sandwiches made yet." Cindy offered with her usual cheer
"Oh, no, don't trouble yourselves on my account! I don't want to impose." Maria said nervously.
"It's no trouble! Heck, I'll have to toss them if someone doesn't eat them. Here! You like extra cream, light sugar and a shot of vanilla, right?" Cindy asked, despite already mixing the drink and tossing a bagel on a serving plate. Cindy worried about Maria. She never looked like she'd eaten enough.
Maria noded. She now felt compelled to sit and eat. "I umm... will be taking a shift here at the store tomorrow. I just have an appointment with a Professor Sparks today. I am hoping the professor might help me with some...umm...technical problems." Maria hesitantly explained.
"Professor Sparks? That's the one the Boss said might be a Magus, isn't it? One of the Sons of Ether?" Mike stated in his deep, sonorous voice.
"Yes I guess so. Umm, has anyone heard from Doctor Spectre?" Maria inquired.
"Yes, he was out all night tending to issues with the local vampires. He will return in a few hours. He and the large fellow named Alex went for pancakes. We are to prepare a room for Alex. He will be staying a day or two. It seems the P.S.I. compound is a bit far for him to return to on short notice." Mike revealed.
"Oh." Maria said. She began chewing on her bagel, lost in thought. This was slightly worrisome to her. Maria liked her privacy. She wasn't sure she'd care for having such a large man sharing the sub basement with her. There were four apartments down there. She knew there was the chance Doctor Spectre would rent the others when she moved in, although she hadn't really thought about what sort of person he would rent too.
"Are you nervous about going to see this Professor, Maria? Mike or I can go with you! It'll be fun! Right Mike?!" Cindy suggested excitedly.
Mike nodded solemnly "My simple craft is no match for a true Magus, but I would be willing to accompany you to watch for dangers and tell you of any pitfalls in which you might be ensnared." He said gravely.
"Oh, don't be such a negative nelly, Mike! I'm sure it will be fine! We'd be going as moral support!" Cindy exclaimed.
Maria blinked at Mike's deadpan statement, then smirked a bit at Cindy's rebuttal. "No, that's fine. Thank you. I just think I'll leave a note. I just sort of wanted someone to know where I was and what time I left. I'll be fine, really." Maria said with false sincerity.
"Well, if you're sure..." Cindy said reluctantly.
"If you need aid you have our numbers as well as Amy, Chris, and Jacob. Although they are but apprentices in the craft." Mike stated.
"Thank you, again. I'll be fine, really. I better go." Maria said as she finished her bagel and headed out, coffee in hand.
Cindy looked over at Mike. "I worry about her." She admitted.
"There is something about her that draws pity, but have no doubt her soul is strong. Were it not, it never could survive away from the body as it does when she projects. Thusly there is a core of strength to her hidden deep within." Mike stated.
Cindy quirked an eyebrow "The way you talk, I think you read too much." She said as she cleared away the last of the overnight tasks.
The Asylum Bar, Santa Monica
Heather was not having a good time. She had spent all day hunting for an apartment. Her search had proven completely fruitless. She met up with Jennifer's friends who made the unhelpful suggestions of checking the local papers, which she already had done, and hiring someone to help, which she was not sure she could afford. They then had driven here to this bar and begun to party.
Already being tired, Heather had no desire to drink or dance. Had she not been in the middle of the serious task of finding a place to stay, she might have appreciated Jennifer encouraging her to talk to her friend Greg, who was unattached. However, she felt let down that no one really seemed to have any interest in helping her. Right now, she just wanted to go back to her hotel to rest and start her housing search again tomorrow.
She looked around the bar from the small table on the second floor where she was sitting trying to find everyone. They had scattered through the chaotic club. Jennifer and her boyfriend, Randy, were still on the dance floor. Nancy and her date, Tod, were necking at the bar. She finally spotted Greg who was talking to a very tan young woman with short blondish hair who was leaning on the rail overlooking the dance floor.
Deciding to bite the bullet and risk alienating these new "friends," Heather headed over to Greg. When she came closer she saw a line of empty shot glasses on the rail he was leaning against.
"So, what else were you hoping to find in California?" Greg asked the woman.
"Um, Greg? Not to be a wet blanket but, aren't you the designated driver?" Heather asked.
"Huh? Oh, I was but since you're not drinking anyhow I figured you could do it. Now, if ya don't mind, I'm kinda busy here." Greg said in an aggravated tone as he turned back to the woman he was chatting up.
"Well, I mean we have bars like this and shit back home in Arizona. I was hoping for something wilder and more exciting; West coast, you know, party town. Seems like I was wrong." The young woman said.
"Greg! I can't be your designated driver. I'm half asleep and I met you guys at Randy's apartment. I still have to drive back to my hotel when this is all over. In fact, I sort of want to go now." Heather admitted.
Greg turned around again, annoyed at the interruption. "Look, we'll talk about this later, okay?"
"Wow, I don't know what's going on, but it sounds like you've got other business. I'm gonna go." The blonde said.
"Hey, no wait!" Greg called after her as she slipped away into the crowd.
He turned and gave Heather a withering stare. "Yeah I guess this bar was becoming a dead end. We need to find another one, anyhow."
"Thank you. I can drive you guys back to Randy's, pick up my car, then you can get a cab or something since you've all be drinking." Heather offered.
"Oh, yeah, we can get a cab. Yeah, that sounds good, doesn't it? Hey, why don't you. Wait at the table. I'll get the others." Greg told her as he took off.
Heather sat back at the table and waited for the others. After a few minutes she began to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. She looked out across the dance floor and didn't see anyone she knew. She glanced at the bar and found no one either. She rushed down to the ground floor as quickly as she could. The crowd did not make it easy.
"Hey! I had some friends here at the bar. Did they just leave?" She asked the heavy set overly tattooed barkeeper.
"Do I look like I keep track of everyone? What am I? Your mother?" The barkeeper replied gruffly.
"You have to remember them! They were practically having sex on your bar! I have to find them!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, those two. Yeah, they left just a second ago. They said something about going to another bar." The bartender said with scorn.
Heather whirled around and raced out of the bar. The group had parked in a parking deck a couple blocks away. They would have to pass back by here to leave. She looked out into the street, hoping to catch them. With her financial straights already dire, she really didn't need the cab bill from Santa Monica all the way back to her hotel.
Heather looked about and saw Greg's SUV. Waving her arms frantically she rushed over towards it. Greg rolled to a stop and Heather raced across the street. Just as she was getting close, Greg leaned out of the window and yelled.
"Hey! Don't worry! YOU can just get a cab since you want to bail!" He then stomped on the accelerator and sped off, leaving Heather in the middle of the road.
An old man had started across the street from a nearby diner after he saw Greg stop. He looked in panic at the on coming car. Greg swerved hard to the left to avoid the man. This put him directly into the path of an oncoming truck. The truck had no time to brake. Greg's SUV rolled onto its side as the truck slammed into it. The SUV began to slide back in the direction it come from, pushed by the momentum of the truck. Caught in panic and disbelief, it was the last thing Heather saw before darkness and pain overcame her. She didn't even remember the impact.
Santa Monica Safe House
Keith awoke in the shower. He looked at his surroundings in disgust. Not only was this 'safehouse' the worst kind of dive imaginable, he didn't even see how it was good for vampires. There were only two rooms and the main room was a corner apartment. Both of the outer walls sported large, unshuttered windows. That left only the bathroom to stay in safety during the day.
Upon exiting the bathroom, he looked at his surroundings again. There had been one change. There was now was a laptop, notepad and card like piece of folded paper on the old beaten up metal desk in the corner. Curious, Keith walked over to examine them. The note was from this Mercurio he was supposed to meet. It gave the password to the computer and the location of some hidden cash. Keith took the cash out and put it in his wallet. He then examined the card. It was an invitation from someone named M. Strauss to visit him in the downtown area. As it was outside the confines of his banishment, Keith put it out of mind and set to examining the laptop.
He saw he had a reminder from the Prince or, more likely, one of his flunkies to meet Mercurio. An email from someone named Ezekiel. Apparently he was the one that dropped off the card on his desk and would be at the Santa Monica pier with some friends if he felt like talking. There was some junk mail and an odd email that seemed to be about chess and, finally, directions to Mercurio's apartment.
Keith noted the direction and headed out. Mercurio's was far away. As he walked, Keith thought about the events of the last night. He had managed to feed upon the human gangbangers he had been forced to fight, so his hunger was a distant thing, at least for the time being. However, it seemed rising every night ate into the stores of blood his body held. He also knew from experience healing consumed his stores as well. Jack said avoiding hunger was the key to keeping the dark urges he called 'the beast' in check. He debated finding a source of food, perhaps another one of the homeless? He could compensate them for the involuntary contribution with some of his cash. He decided to wait. Best learn about the area and if there were any local rules he didn't know.
Once he reached Mercurio's apartment, he noted a worrying sign; there was a blood trail going from the main door to the apartment labeled on his directions. With mild trepidation, Keith followed the trail and opened Mercurio's door. Inside a man was laying on the couch moaning in pain. Keith raced up, his doctor's instincts taking over.
"Hold still. Can you tell me what happened?" Keith asked.
"Those mothers...ripped me off! I'm dyin' here!" The man whom Keith assumed to be Mercurio exclaimed.
Keith looked over his injuries "These are pretty bad. I'm going to call an ambulance."
"What? No! I go a record back East. I'm heat bait. Don't touch that phone! No goddamn cops!" Mercurio exclaimed.
"Are you sure? I'm a doctor, but I don't have any equipment or medicine to treat these kinds of injuries. You look like you were beaten by a whole group. You're Mercurio aren't you?" Keith asked as he pulled back from the phone.
"No Cops!" Mercurio repeated. "Uhh, yeah. Mercurio. That's me. Oh...I can feel a draft on my fucking insides! They shanked me - the bastards! The blood ain't workin' no more - my head, it feels cracked. Ugh...I think my eye's popped." He lamented.
"That eye's swollen shut, but there's no hemorrhage. That's good, at least. You do have a deep knife wound here. It'll need stitches. Get the clothes off so I can see more carefully. Don't jar anything open. That knife wound is nasty. I don't see how you're still alive to be perfectly honest." Keith said as he started pulling Mercurio's coat off.
"I got... I went...fuck...what is this lump? Is this my rib? Oh, holy shit, my rib's pokin' through my side?! Oh. I'm all numb... you gotta look and tell me doc!" Mercurio exclaimed disoriented.
"No, that's the end of a broken bottle. If I pull it out it's going to bleed and as much blood as you've lost you can't afford to lose much more until I get some stitches in you. Do you have a first aid kit?" Keith asked.
"Yeah, basic shit, in the bathroom! Goddamn chemist! Can't trust any operators in L.A. I verified him, organization seemed reliable. Guy mixes up speed, his crew sells it. Occasionally he does explosives. We needed some for the job they want you to do so I set up a drop. I show up at the beach with the money, right? Four of his guys, they come out of nowhere. Junkie pricks - hit me with a bat! Head feels like a friggin' horse kickin' it."
"You went alone to buy explosive from a drug dealer in his own turf? I'm sorry but that doesn't sound like the brightest move. These are pretty sorry supplies, but I think this thread will work to stitch you up and this alcohol will sterilize the wounds. There's at least gauze and tape to bandage you, I guess it's the best we have to work with." Keith said, returning.
"You're right. I never should have gone alone. Amateur move. I shoulda handled those pricks. Goddamn dirty Cali rat bastards. Those cocksuckers - beat me rotten, left me for a stiff. I had to crawl to my car, crawl my ass up here. The vamp blood's the only thing holdin' me together. But shit they got the money, they got the explosives..."
"Vampire blood? What do you mean? You seem human to me."
"Right, you're straight off the bus. Once a month I get fed vampire blood. Heals me faster, makes me stronger than a normal human. I don't age. By looking at me, you wouldn't realise it, but i'm almost sixty." Mercurio explained.
"Now that's something I would have liked to know. Would more blood help you heal?" Keith asked not pausing his stitching.
"What? Yeah but ... you don't know what you're saying, kid. Supply is part of how the bosses keep their guys loyal, you know. Anyone find out I drank from you we'd both be in the deep end." Mercurio said.
"We have no explosives, no money, and no other way to complete what ever this mission is I've been drafted into. I think we are already in the deep end. Now that we are, the last thing I need is you dying on me while we're trying to get out of the pool." Keith said dryly.
"There is something to that. Alright we'll try it if things get worse, but if anyone finds out both our asses will be fried! For now, let's see what we can do without it."
"Alright then. If you can think clearly, let's figure out what to do now. How do I get the explosives back?" Keith asked, finishing his stitching.
"Those small-time sons of bitches live out in a dump on the beach. Four or five of 'em. The one that's got the explosives is Dennis. Got my money too, that prick! You gotta...gotta get it back from 'em. Maybe reason with 'em. Maybe break in, I dunno. God, I wanna kill 'em. Do whatever you people do. I blew it, I know!" Mercurio exclaimed as Keith was taping gauze to his wounds.
"I think I've done as much as I can here. All you have for pain here is aspirin and that's not good when you're bleeding. I don't have a prescription pad, so I can't write you a script for something stronger." Keith pondered.
"Maybe...maybe the hospital will give you something. There's one not far away. I know a guy there, a ghoul like me, that's uh a guy who drinks vamp blood. Name is Vandal. He works in the blood bank. Great scam. He sells blood to you people. Not really his operation, though. It's his boss, the local baron." Mercurio rambled.
"Right. I'll go down there and see what I can get my hands on." Keith said, turning to leave.
"Uh, one more thing: about the deal going bad, the bosses hear of this and I'm a grease spot. I mean it - you tell anyone about this, I'm dead. I'm beggin' ya. I got a way o' gettin' people what they need. You don't say anything, I can help you out." Mercurio pleaded.
"I'm no big fan of the Prince and I'm living his idea of mercy. Don't worry. I'm not going to rat you out. We'll fix this together. I'd rather have a friend who owes me one than gloat like a kid over a corpse. Besides, do you think I want the time I spent saving you to be wasted?" Keith turned back to ask.
Mercurio gave him a thumbs up and Keith continued out the door.
The Sparks Laboratory for Unconventional Sciences and Self Directed Research
(SLUSSD)
Doctor Spectre's H2 pulled into the parking lot and stopped. The Doc stepped out putting his hat on and examined the building with a critical eye.
"Why the hell are were here?" Alex moaned, looking at the laboratory. As he got out he smoothed his Beakman's World t-shirt.
"I'm here because Maria's been here all day. Now it's night and I'm worried. You're here because Cindy asked you to come with me and your big horny ass hopes to get some later." Spectre said gruffly.
"Oh, yeah. Does she, um, does she put out? I hate to think I'm doing this for someone who's just a tease." Alex asked with a joking grin.
"Wouldn't know, kid. I don't pry into people's personal lives. Unless I think I need to know to protect someone else. By the way, have you got enough control to go all the way and not change forms in the heat of the moment? I'm pretty sure as big as you get that could be dangerous." The Doc said in a deadpan tone while walking up to the door.
"Are you serious? I can control myself thank you very much! I was just joking about Cindy. I mean I'm in no hurry. If she wants to, great, if not whatever. There are more girls out there. I'm not looking for anything serious right now. Just someone wanting to have some fun. I don't make a secret of it either." Alex shot back.
"It's not really so much for Cindy's sake I asked about your transformation. You're so tall I had giant werewolf wang in my face all night when we were fighting the Sabbat. We might need to make you underpants. Or a thong." The Doc joked as he opened the door and stepped into the complex. Alex rolled his eyes.
"No receptionist. Just a phone. Here is the listing. It says dial one for Professor Sparks. Hey, if Sparks is a professor, why isn't this a university lab?" Alex wondered.
"Already checked on that. Sparks owns this place outright and is funded through a private think tank that dabbles in research that no university is willing to back. Likely a front for the Sons of Ether. The professor still is loosely attached to Caltech, though. I'm guessing donation money changes hands so Sparks can keep the professor title." Spectre said as he picked up the phone and dialed.
Alex waited briefly to see if the Doc could get an answer on the internal switchboard. He soon, however, grew bored. He mouthed the word 'restroom' and walked off. Rather than looking for a toilet, however, Alex went looking for the room the Doc was calling. He figured the direct approach would be more productive.
He walked through the corridors. The building looked pretty simple and through extrapolation he thought he had a pretty good idea of how the place was laid out. As he was about to turn another corner, something caught his eye. It was in the very back of the complex. He saw a door with a gold star on it. Under the star that was a note: Sparks Space. Enter at your own risk. From the far side of the door Alex heard manic laughter. Figuring that was as good as an invitation, he burst through the door and into the room as if he owned the place.
Inside was a laboratory right out of a science fiction movie. Wires ran haphazardly all about the ceiling and various glass tubes full of chemicals whirled and corkscrewed about the place. There was even a giant slab with a sheet covering a mysterious mass under one of the skylights. Standing on a raised platform in the center of the room was the oddest person Alex had even seen.
It was a woman. She wore pink high top Converse sneakers and black leggings which ran up under a electric blue micro skirt. She was wearing either a spaghetti strap tank top tucked into her shirt or a one piece leotard. Over that she wore a semi transparent over shirt with an oversized neck hole that left one shoulder bare. All of this was again under an unbuttoned white lab coat whose rolled up sleeves revealed a lot of arm bangles, mostly of garish plastic. Her bleached blond hair had several streaks of color that competed for attention with the multiple scrunchies that held it up in a half ponytail. She was the source of the manic laughter.
"What the hell is going on in here!?" Alex exclaimed in shock.
"Science!" The odd figure exclaimed with a grin.
The Doc came charging in, skidding to a halt with a look of astonishment that mirrored Alex's own.
"Professor Sparks I presume?" Spectre asked, regaining his composure.
"Yup that's me, but call me Nikki! NIKKI SPARKS!" She exclaimed as she exited the platform by swirling down a fireman's pole.
"Your name is Nikki Sparks? Are you a stripper?" Alex asked with nervous humor.
"No, silly! I'm a scientist. I haven't done that since before I started my master's. It was kind of fun though. Good exercise, too!" Sparks proclaimed.
"Yes, well, professor Sparks we are here..." Spectre began.
"You're Remington Spectre, PHD and this is Sergeant Alex Slibern, formerly of the U.S. Army Rangers. You're both here because we lost track of time and you think I've done something nefarious with Maria Grove, formerly of the projector company Orpheus." Sparks rambled.
"Um... yes." The Doc said uncertainly. He didn't like someone being ahead of him in knowing what was going on.
"Right, well, no problem! She's here and she's fine. She currently helping me in some research" Sparks spun a metal box around revealing a glass window. Behind it was the lightly blue flesh of Maria Grove.
"Holy shit! She's dead!" Alex exclaimed.
"Hold it. Alex. Technically you're right, but there is more to it. She's in Cryo- suspension. It's something Orpheus used to do to help people send their soul out of their body." Spectre explained.
"Very astute, doctor. Indeed, Miss Grove is in suspended animation while her soul flitters about. In fact, you can see her if you want. She's right over here." Nikki offered both men a pair of goggles that resembled the kind welders wore.
Spectre put his goggles on and Alex followed half a heartbeat later, uncertainty registering on his face. Both could then see Maria waving at them from just to the side of the Professor. In her ghostly form, Maria looked very different. She possessed an ethereal beauty that was for lack of a better word, haunting.
"The goggles are nothing, really, just a recreation of the items Terrell and Squib used to sell. I've constructed earbuds that allow audio communication! Now that's something those hacks never managed." Sparks said with pride.
"I always wanted a pair of these. I had them back ordered from T and S before they were shut down for being connected with the Pigment market." Spectre lamented.
"I can hook you up. Technically they're contraband. Terrell and Squib still have the patent and all that stuff is in deep litigation. I think I can trust you not to rat me out however." Sparks said beaming with pride.
"It's great to see Maria is okay, but um...what the heck are you doing and laughing like a maniac about?" Alex asked.
"Oh, well, Maria started as a Sleeper but she's learned to project without the cold sleep equipment, she came to me because my lab is trying to figure out how to duplicate Shade; the refined, less addictive version of the illegal street drug, Pigment." Nikki explained.
"The Black Heroin? I hear that stuff fucks you up. Makes you hallucinate and shit. Or, does it really let you see ghosts?" Alex asked.
"Yup, sure does, big boy! It's weaker than Shade, though, which will actually let you spirit walk out of your body. Still, it's nothing to mess around with as use of either will also pretty much ensure your spirit remains behind after death to haunt the world." Nikki said.
"It does what!? Why would anyone want to do that?!" Alex asked.
"Most people that took it didn't know. Now their shades haunt the world. Terrell and Squib apparently knew. They were secretly the suppliers behind the epidemic. The big problem is that no lab ever figured out the secret of either Shade or Pigment, which many were eager to do as neither Orpheus nor Terrell and Squib patented the technology." Nikki explained.
"To get a patent you have to reveal your manufacturing process. Something neither company was willing to do. They also were not properly licensed by the FDA for sale for the same reasons." Spectre explained.
"Yes but all those that looked for the formula discounted the truly supernatural, something I won't do. The formula obviously has a spiritual component and I'm getting close to figuring it all out using my own..." Nikki stopped and turned to the Doc and Alex striking a dramatic pose.
"MAGIC SCIENCE!" She exclaimed.
Alex looked at the Doc uncertainly. Spectre responded with a shrug.
"Professor Sparks. Nikki. Why don't you wake Maria up? She's likely helped enough for one day. Let's get her some food and real sleep. I'm sure she'll be willing to come back to help you later." Spectre said.
"Huh? Oh yeah! No prob! In fact, I'll buy you guys dinner for putting you through the trouble and worry of coming out here. I just get carried away with work at times. You guys like Chinese? I'm craving some General Tso's myself." Nikki rambled.
The process to awaken Maria took some time. The Doc and Alex pondered whether Sparks was dangerously insane, and whether they were in the mood for Chinese.