Part One
Here I stand in this room
Caged and trapped inside
Seems I'm damned to live a lie
Unaware of what's outside
Should I care for what's left me behind
And I stare at the light that makes me blind
Internally there's nothing left for me to be
I'm here alone and isolated
I'll never crawl again
I'll never fall again until I'm free...
"I want to show you something."
A small hum of agreement was all she could manage, her body breathless as she felt herself drowning in waves of delicious heat. He smiled at her, this stranger whose name she never learned. He licked his way up her neck, planting a small kiss behind her ear.
Then his teeth sunk into her, and she screamed.
-V-
Everything was so clear.
It was as if, moments ago, she had been blind, deaf, and dumb. Now it felt as if the world had just appeared before her eyes, vibrant and full. It was as if she was finally experiencing her senses for the first time.
There was an emptiness in her, similar to hunger. She knew she was starving, but for what, she couldn't fathom. She ran her tongue over the sharpened teeth on the roof of her mouth, pricking it. A small drop of blood bubbled.
He was sitting across from her, smirking. But his pale eyes seemed to be shining with pride as he stared at her, slowly reaching forward to grab her hand. She stilled, quiet as he delicately placed a lock of hair behind her ear. Silently, he leaned forward till their noses were touching and, grasping her chin, pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth opened up beneath his, and his tongue slipped between her lips, sliding over her own and taking the drop of blood. He then pulled away, his pale lips having the slightest splotch of red on them.
It was oddly intimate, more so than the actions that had occurred moments ago.
She knew it. She was fucking high. Some random stranger met her outside the club, drugged her, and was now swapping blood instead of spit.
Suddenly, her door was kicked down, a dark-skinned man and a creature nowhere near human entering. They tackled the man across from her, stabbing something into his chest. Once he fell back, they turned to her, the dark-skinned man gently gripping her around the waist as he stabbed something into her chest as well.
She only had a fleeting second to look down to see what it was. A stake.
-V-
She was pushed down onto her knees, the stake ripped from her chest. She fell forward onto the stage, hair covering her vision. A man stood in front of her, his words muddled yet perfectly clear to her as he addressed the audience below.
"As Prince of this city, I choose those who work for me with great caution. I choose Kindred who are loyal, and make it their priority to represent the community with great respect. I take great care in those who, shall we say, are the building blocks of this community. However, there are those who do not share the mutual respect I expect in return, and commit crimes that reflect badly on those who have done no wrong.
"Siring without permission, my permission, is such a crime. Many of you have come to me seeking permission, and I have granted some of those requests. This Kindred, however, did not have permission - in fact, my permission was not sought at all. He was caught too late after the embrace of this childe. The sentence for this crime, as you know and pains me to admit, is the Final Death."
The man with her before was also on his knees, and the man speaking suddenly bent down next to him.
"Forgive me," he murmured. Then, "Let the penalty commence."
A knife was brought down and decapitated him, his body falling forward and dissolving in a fiery light. She had only known him for all of an hour, maybe two. When this stranger died, she felt as if half of her had died with him.
"And now, onto the childe..."
-V-
"This is bullshit, LaCroix!"
A man from the meager audience stood, snarling up at the stage. Two others attempted to calm him as whispers broke out among the audience. His eyes were a striking blue as they suddenly clashed with hers. The blonde man in front of her pursed his pale lips, suddenly grabbing her and shoving her roughly to her feet.
"If Mr. Rodriguez would let me finish. I have decided to let her live."
The ashes of her "sire" were littered across the stage. The knife used to decapitate him was slung away on a creature's back, but she eyed it warily.
"I will not allow the actions of her sire to reflect on herself. She will be granted the same rights as any Kindred. Let it not be said I am unsympathetic to the innocent. Good evening."
The man in the audience, Mr. Rodriguez, sent a final glare at the prince before looking back at her with something akin to pity and understanding in his eyes. He then shoved past the two people with him and exited the theatre.
-V-
"Your sire, tragic, my apologies. But you see, there is a strict code of conduct that all of us must adhere to, if we wish to survive."
The prince walked with her back stage, his hand placed on the small of her back. Despite the soft-spoken words and smile, she felt as immense sense of hatred towards him. He killed the man who, although had caused her multitudes of pain, made her into what she was now - whatever that was. The pain she felt when he died was almost as strong as the pain she felt when he had sunk his teeth into her.
Wait.
"When someone, anyone, breaks these laws, they undermine the well-worn fabric of our centuries-old society. Understand my predicament - allowing you to live makes me directly responsible for your subsequent behavior. So.
"What I'm offering is not generosity, but the opportunity to transcend the fate woven by your sire. This - is your trial. You will be brought back to Santa Monica. There, you will meet an agent by the name of Mercurio. He will provide the details of your labor. I've shown you great clemency. Prove it was more than a wasted gesture, fledgling," his nose scrunched in disgust at the word. "Don't come back until you do."
-V-
He held the door open for her, but she curled her fingers around his forearm before he could motion her out. His lip curled; he obviously did not like her touching him. But she had to know.
"What am I?"
LaCroix stared at her levelly, her eyes wild with confused desire. He breathed in through his nose, as if taking in her scent. Finally, he spoke.
"You're a vampire, fledgling."
-V-
The doors to the theatre slammed behind her.
"What a scene, man! Hoo-wee! Then they just plop you out here like a naked baby in the woods. How 'bout that?"
She turned to the left sharply. A man rested against the grungy brick wall, his arms crossed. He grinned at her from behind his beard.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Jack. You make it back from Santa Monica with your hide and we'll trade life stories, m'kay? But for now, I've got about," he pinched his forefinger and thumb together, "this much time. You in or out for some help?"
A short pathetic breeze ruffled her shirt, bring the stale stank of trash with it. "Okay."
-V-
Jack was eyeing her closely. "You look wobbly. You even had a drink yet?"
LaCroix's words were still painfully crashing against the walls of her mind. She didn't want to ask what Jack considered a "drink."
"No."
He whooped loudly. "Oh man, we're popping a cherry here! 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 fucking heroin, kid. Ha! Get ready though, cuz hey, it's never as sweet as the first time."
-V-
At first, it tasted like liquid copper. Her insides quaked with disgust at the sour taste within the cavern of her mouth. But then it flowed like honey, dripping down her throat at a tantalizingly slow rate. Her ankles locked themselves together around the man's waist, and she pulled him closer, as if eliminating the space between them would make the blood flow faster.
His life force was weakening. She could feel it, feel his very essence within the liquid that kept his heart beating.
Did she have a heartbeat?
Jack told her that it was wrong to kill an innocent. Each kill took a piece of humanity from her, until she succumbed to what he referred to as the "beast" inside her. Then it was all over.
He was on the brink of death, and she stopped. The new blood pulsing through her felt like pure power.
It did not occur to her that she had almost just killed a man.
-V-
"Aw yeah, you're feeling it. You're feeling it."
She pressed her lips to the back of her hand. They left a red, muddy imprint against the grey skin.
"Alright, now you got the blood, you're feelin' all kickass, feelin' better than your best day living - but wait! It gets better! Kindred...uh, that's our word for vampire...Kindred all have a few things in common, things that set them right square above humans on the food chain."
Her skin used to be a darker shade. "Like what?"
"Like sharper senses, a body that can take a beating, and, if you play your cards right, eternal life."
"So, I'm going to live forever?"
"Well, you can still be destroyed, but forget all the Twilight shit. Garlic? It's worthless. A cross? Pfft...shove it right up their ass. A stake? Only if it catches you in the heart, and then it just paralyzes you. Running water? That's no problem. I bathe...occasionally. Now, a shotgun blast to the head - same as any human. Fire? Fatal. Sunlight? Well, you catch a sunrise, and it's all over, kiddo."
A loud shot went off, and she felt the tremors of the ground vibrate the marrow in her bones.
"Ah, what the fuck is this? Get inside, kid, I'll meet up with you in a second."
-V-
"Stay away from the windows."
She didn't. Instead, she watched as three humanoid creatures walked down the alleyway she had just been in, blowing semi-automatics.
"Oh...it's a Sabbat raid. The Sabbat, they're, uh...Eh, Christ, I was hopin' to spare you this shit till later. Uh, the Sabbat, well... They're mostly mindless bloodthirsty assholes - that's all you need to know for now, okay?"
One of the creatures, the one in the middle, bounded forward on all fours, letting out a guttural howl. Something then emerged from the shadows - the creature with the large knife, the one that killed her sire. It looked half bat, half gorilla to her.
"What's happening?"
"The Sabbat got wind of the gathering here, so they figured they'd raise a little hell and put heat on the new 'prince'."
The bat creature raised his arm, and two wolfish forms of light rose from beneath the ground. They pounced on the two Sabbat with machine guns, blood splattering against their white muzzles. The third Sabbat, the howling one, ran towards the creature, but his fist glowed with blue light, and the Sabbat just evaporated into ashes. Like her sire.
He looked up at the windows.
"What is that?"
"That's the Sherriff. Prince LaCroix's bodyguard, follower, whatever the fuck you wanna call him."
"What is LaCroix the prince of?"
"No time for a political rundown. Job one: get out alive."
-V-
"Now, if you want a lesson on how really not to act, take notes from those Sabbat assholes. You're a big, bad vampire...yeah, great, congrats...now keep it to yourself."
"Why not? I've still got a list of people from high school," she joked, but Jack didn't even crack a smile.
"It's the same reason you don't let humans see you feeding. Why you don't go juggling dumpsters or outrun the 8:15 on Sacramento. Keep our secret secret and you make things easier on all of us. We're livin' in the age of cell phone cameras - fuck-ups aren't tolerated."
"What could happen?"
"That party back there, with the guy in the suit and the Magilla Gorilla - the assholes that put your sire to death? That's the Camarilla. Hmph. They make a tidy business out of enforcing 'vampire laws' like this one."
"So, they're like the vampire good guys?"
"Hmph, yeah. I'll tell you what I think some other time. I like to let people form their own opinions."
-V-
They were waiting for her as she left the building. Two of them, armed with semi-automatics.
She was shot in the chest. Once, twice, three times. Jack took care of them quickly.
It stung. Fire blossomed throughout her chest.
She could stick her fingers into the holes.
-V-
"Here, take this."
He shoved a .38 caliber into her hands, and they molded around the metal like clay.
"I need to take care of some bystanders. You go on up and finish them off. Mostly Sabbat, but a few gang bangers too."
"But...what do I do?"
He grinned at her from over his shoulder. "You're a vampire. Figure it out."
-V-
"Yeah! Those cocksuckers never saw it coming! I like you, kid."
Jack's voice was pounding in her ears, the pale warehouse lights glinting off his fangs. The .38 was still clutched tightly in her grip, the burning metal a faint prick against her skin.
"Can I keep the pistol, Jack?" she asked quietly, the first gang banger's blood splattered against her top, the other's dripping down her chin. The fire left his eyes as he looked at her, and something akin to tenderness appeared in them.
"Sure, kid."
-V-
Her haven consisted of a laptop, a fridge, a toilet, a television, and a mattress.
The mattress was stained with vomit.
The fridge contained three bags of blood from the Santa Monica blood bank.
There was a note on the small desk in the corner, telling her the password for her email and that one hundred bucks was in the drawer. She had an email from Mercurio - he was going out to get some explosives and she was to meet him at his apartment, in the building next to hers.
The computer home was assigned an owner's name, one she stared at in confusion before she realized that it was her own.
-V-
There was another note on her desk. A riddle:
"Dark blood, our curse, a light this verse.
"Such power I sense in one so young.
"Come find me where burns the mystical sun.
"M. Strauss, Tremere Regent"
-V-
The game begins. A pawn is moved.
-V-
"Hey lady, do you have any money on you, lady?"
Yes, she did.
She took his blood instead.
-V-
Santa Monica was dead. Few people walked the streets, more so hid in the shadows.
-V-
A man was crawling up the steps to Mercurio's apartment building.
At first she didn't realize that she was following his trail of blood. It led straight to Mercurio's apartment.
She was merely following the pull from within her.
Maybe it wasn't her instincts, after all.
-V-
"Those mothers...ripped me off. I'm dyin' here!"
He was lying on his couch, face-down. There was a bloody hand-print on the light switch. His face was swollen, blood gushing from his sides. A rib poked out from his right side.
"Are you Mercurio?"
"Yeah. You're looking for the Astrolite? I'm - oh, I can feel a draft on my fucking insides! They shanked me - the bastards! The blood ain't working no more - my head, it feels cracked. I think my eye popped."
She bent down so she was at his level. The ends of her hair brushed against the couch, crimson liquid sticking to the stands.
"What happened?"
"I got...I went... Uh, what is this lump? Is this...my rib? Holy shit, my rib is poking through my side! You gotta look and tell me! Is it?"
She humored him, her fingers lightly skimming over him. His skin was so hot, almost melting the coldness off her hands. He was right; it was a broken rib.
"It's a broken bottle."
-V-
"I show up at the beach with the money, right? Four of these guys, they come out of nowhere. Junkie pricks - hit me with a bat! I got a friggin' horse kickin' it. The Vamp blood's the only thing holding me together. But shit, they got the money, they got the astrolite..."
As her eyes narrowed, she wondered what color they were.
"Where do I find them?"
-V-
"Hey! How's it goin', girl?"
She stared at the man, his golden eyes flashing in excitement. He pushed himself off the column supporting the hospital awning and smiled.
"Do I know you?"
"Aw man! Say that again!"
She sighed. Even in unlife, she was still faced with crack heads.
"No."
"There! You - oh, man! - you're a vampire, aren't you?"
-V-
If the man already knew about vampires, was there any point in denying it? Unless he was high, but that was a pretty good stab in the dark if he was.
She inconspicuously breathed on her hand and sniffed it. Her breath didn't carry the scent of blood...
"What? Vampire? What the hell are you smoking?"
"Oh come on, don't bullshit me girl. It's okay, come clean."
A woman walked past her, bumping her way in between them as she chattered on her cell phone. A prostitute was cooing at any person walking close enough, a delicate hand running itself up and down her body.
"Okay, say that I am a vampire."
The man gaped at her, and she could detect the tangy scent of blood beneath the mint in his breath. But he wasn't a vampire - the blood pulsing through him was human. She could hear it, smell it.
"Hell yeah! Oh man, I knew it! I just - oh, geez, I knew you were. I could just tell. I - oh, man, this is great! And then I saw your teeth! And I was like damn! It was like I could just sense you." He smiled politely as he floated back down from his high. "The name's Knox Harrington. Pleasure to meet you."
"How do you know all this?"
"I'm a ghoul! I didn't know about any of this stuff until a couple of months ago...when this guy just appeared and, well, all of a sudden - bam! - whoa man! - vampires are real and right there in front of my eyes. Blew my goddamn mind."
"A ghoul?"
"Well, the way it was explained to me, whenever a vampire lets a human drink some of their vampire blood, the human gains a little vampire power, can heal up quick and that kinda stuff. Geez, oh man! Then they're a 'ghoul'."
So there were vampire drug addicts.
-V-
"I'm here to bring some things for my friend."
The secretary was staring at her suspiciously, but eventually pursed her lips and turned away.
"Fine, go on back."
The hospital smelled of fatigue, disease, and bleach. Various thugs and elderly women stood in the waiting area, watching her as she left. She could feel the disgust and lust from them. It was sickening.
She broke into the administrator's office and swept some morphine bottles for Mercurio. Doping him up would ease the pain. She should know - she herself was not above using to ease away the pain, whether physical or emotional.
As she walked back down the hall, a cry came from an open room, and a redhead lay on the bed, blood erupting from her mouth.
"Please," she wailed, "call a doctor!"
-V-
"Look, you're going to have to wait out there, just like everybody else."
"But the girl, I think she's dying-"
"I'm the only doctor here right now, with five other patients! My nurse paged Dr. Roberts, he will be here soon."
"But-"
"I got a man with a bullet in his head! Just sit with her, talk with her. Keep her awake. Now leave!"
-V-
She kept coughing. Blood was dribbling down her pale skin, traveling between the crevice of her breasts.
The blood didn't bother her. She wasn't hungry.
"The doctor said he'd be here soon. Just-"
She entered another coughing fit, and this time she did not open her eyes when the pain passed.
"Hey, stay with me, come on."
Her breathing slowed dramatically, her grip on the bed sheets slackening.
Mercurio had told her that it was vamp blood keeping him in one piece.
"Here - drink this."
With her twisted metal bracer, she made a cut across her wrist. Dark, black blood slowly oozed down her arm. She placed it over the girl's mouth, and she sucked it down greedily.
Some color returned to her face, and she slowly opened her eyes.
"What - who are you? Did I just-"
"I just wanted to help," she said softly before leaving the room.
-V-
"There. Down that pathway and up those stairs."
The woman's eyes were black. Within them were the depths of multiple souls.
There were four vampires on the beach. But they didn't smell of vampire - Kindred. She needed to use Kindred instead.
She hadn't asked the woman - Rosa - anything, but she just knew what she needed. She claimed she could see the future - she had multiple voices speaking in her mind.
One of the Kindred told her they were 'thin bloods'. Not 'real' kindred, apparently. And so, they were shunned. His name was E. A girl, Lily, did this to him, but he sent her away in fear. Now he just wanted her back. He was waiting for her. He loved her.
The waves lapped quietly against the sand, the slivers of water sluicing over the rocks under the gaze of the moon.
A lone wolf howled in the distance.
-V-
"What're you doing here, broad?"
"I'm here to see you-know-who about you-know-what."
He stepped away from the fence, allowing her entrance to the beach house. He glanced at the cracked windows with almost a pout. "Okay, go on in. Maybe start some shit up while you're at it - I'm itching for some trouble."
She moved away from his grabby hands. "I'm sure your personality has nothing to do with you being out here."
-V-
"Now, what does a girl like you need with explosives?"
"Husband got the house in the divorce."
The dealer smirked. "Alright, I got something. Astrolite. You wanna be on the other side of the world when this goes off."
"How much?"
"For you? $800."
She couldn't afford it. And he could tell. She noticed the way his eyes continually ran up and down her body. She could feel the thrum of the quickening of his pulse when she licked her lips. He was trying to back her into a corner.
Kindred were faster.
"Is there something else I can pay with?"
"I might be open to negotiation. How open are you?"
"Send your guard out and we'll see."
He wasted no time. Once the other men left the room, he grabbed her hips roughly, where her skin was exposed between her cropped top and long skirt. She threaded her fingers together behind his neck, pulling herself closer to him. Then her fangs lengthened and she bit him.
And then she drank. And drank. And drank.
Even with the warmth of his life essence flowing through her veins, his corpse was not as cold as hers.
-V-
Jack had told her that, as Kindred, it was necessary to do whatever to survive. Murdering, breaking and entering, theft, seduction; anything. He claimed her sins would be worse than those by the time the night was finished.
Attempting to seduce a man only to kill him left a shiver of disgust running down her spine.
But she had loved every minute of it.
-V-
Rosa was waiting for her on the beach. Her eyes were wide, frenzied. The voices were speaking once more.
"You have been...no, no, you are going to China." Her dark eyes narrowed as she seemed to shrink into herself. "Why is he smiling? The Father. Is it - is it the Father behind him?"
She carefully touched Rosa's arm, doing the opposite of calming as she suddenly burst into ramblings of terror and fear. "You chased it for the one at the top of the city...on the sea...oh, underground... You found it...in the crypt... No, it's open... He...it's open... Oh god, oh god RUN!"
The other thin bloods were staring nervously, the voices within the girl finally spilling out.
"The crimson ship. He's not who he says she is and it is going to burn. Dinosaurs? He's furious...the man with the crest...the voice in the darkness, boss. Chinese brothers. Follow the lights to the end of the tunnel. Where do you want to go?"
"Rosa."
"The man, blood on the couch. The lone wolf. Trust obeys. All others - tread carefully. The crown, the cause - desire and deceit."
Her mouth opened in a silent scream as fire danced in her eyes. Rosa lurched forward, digging her nails into her arms.
"Don't open it."
-V-
Mercurio was still.
"Aw, damn. Did you die on me?"
He took a slow, shuddering breath. If she was dead, did she still need oxygen? She hadn't noticed that she wasn't breathing.
"I got the astrolite back."
"Yeah? Didja waste those sons of bitches?"
"Not my style."
"Did you get my money at least?"
She pulled the money clip out of her skirt. It reeked of cigarettes, booze, and bodily odors.
"Thank you! I can use this to buy myself some new kidneys."
-V-
"Now what?"
"You need to make some place disappear. A warehouse. Looks to be a Sabbat interest."
"How do I get there?"
"Well, there's a guy, I never met him, but I heard a lot about him. His name is Tung, Bertram Tung. He's one of you types. He can get you there. Unfortunately, he's hiding out at the moment."
"Why?"
"Tung's laying low cuz of Therese. Therese Voerman, you know her? She and her sister Jeanette own that club, The Asylum, down the street. Anyway, word is Therese and Tung are feuding - I don't know the details. My take's that Tung thinks he's about to get whacked, so he'd gone underground till Therese calls it off. If you wanna put that warehouse into orbit any time soon, you're gonna have to get Therese to call off the feud."
-V-
It was raining. The droplets of water splashed against the cement, catching the reflections of those not looking, not concealing. They revealed what was hidden behind the masks.
-V-
The Asylum exuded sex. People danced to the pounding of the music against them, the sounds pulsing within them, directing their movements. She could blend into the shadows here, without feeling others' want and desire crawling up her legs.
She had always wanted to be noticed more. But nothing like this.
"What do we have here? Another scrumptious young plaything straight out of life and into my club? You smell new, little girl, like fabric softener dew on freshly mowed Astroturf."
The woman had blonde pigtails and a breast size too large for her bra, her eyeliner and lipstick smeared to the extent of it being intentional. She was Kindred.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the finger down your spine when all the lights are out. I'm the name on all the men's room walls. When I pout, the whole world tries to make me smile. And everyone always wants to know - who is that girl?"
Beneath the crass make-up might have been a beautiful face. But beneath that was merely insanity, revealed through the light trying to brighten up her dull eyes.
"Got a name I can remember you by?"
She smiled brightly. "I am Jeanette. And this bit of chaos crammed into a certifiable giggle is my club. Oh, I'd just love to give you funny feelings all night, sweetheart, but I really must trouble with some business. We'll reunite sweet and soon, I promise."
She walked away with an obvious swagger, leaving her standing in the center of the floor, alone.
-V-
"What's up, beautiful?"
"Looking for Therese."
The hideous green lights shined against the bartender's bald head and outlined his tattoo. His smile vanished and he leaned forward.
"Yeah? What for?"
"Interview for the new waitress position."
"Aw damn, I wish I was conducting that interview. Behind you, up the elevator."
She felt his eyes on her as she walked away. Was her newfound strength enough to protect her from the attention she now received?
-V-
"YOUR city? Last time I checked, it was called Santa Monica, not Stuck-Up Bitch!"
"So vulgar! I can't even look at you sometimes, you jezebel!"
"Oh, Therese, you really do paint a flattering portrait of me with your turn-of-the-century barbs. I always assumed you could do nothing but look down on me."
"Just the sight of you! The sight of that wicked, tainted pout concealing that dirty, diseased mind. Sin! You have no shame."
"Let she who is without sin cast the fierce tone."
"Go ahead and mock me. You pull your pranks, make fun of my ways. It suits you. You're really just one big joke."
"Don't you call me that!"
"Should I start calling a duck a pig as well?"
"I'm your sister! How can you treat me like this?"
A door slammed.
"That's it, Jeanette. Run away from the truth. I'll take care of everything, as always."
-V-
A large portrait took up an entire wall. In it was a man, a frown etched so deep in his face it seemed forever permanent. With him were two little girls, staring out with broken wonder.
"Please, come in. I do apologize for my sister's crassness if it made you uncomfortable. She's unabashedly scandalous, but in the club business, I suppose that is a necessary evil."
Therese was leaning against her desk, her legs crossed. She wore no trace of make-up, her demons hidden deep beneath the surface. With her business suit, she gave off the impression of a female LaCroix, with no inward resemblance to her loose sister.
Except her eyes. Inside the depths of her eyes was the spark of delirium. That was how the two Kindred were connected, even past the bonds of blood.
"I take it you're Therese?"
"Therese Voerman, yes. I'm the proprietor of this club, and the only person in this city whose good side is in your best interest to stay on. What brings you to Santa - wait. I know you. You're Adam's childe."
Adam? Her sire had just been a shadow in a dark alley; a creature that brought her pleasure and pain. 'Adam' made him seem real; made him seem human. But humans were protected behind a glass wall of fragile dreams. She saw that, now.
"LaCroix was going to kill you until Nines spoke up. I still would have killed you - so unclean, being turned without permission. But you may still prove useful, we'll see."
-V-
"I need you to call off the feud with Bertram Tung."
"Tung's exile is self-imposed, I assure you. But then, what reason would I have not to hate that loathsome Nosferatu scoundrel. Bloody Nosferatu. They're so...unclean."
She didn't have time for this.
She wanted to find Jack. He would explain this world to her, explain what she was supposed to do. Explain why she was doing bidding for the man that killed her sire. Adam.
"Your phobias don't concern me. Just tell him everything's cool."
"I suppose I'd be willing to put the word out that my grievances with Tung have been swept under the rug, but in return, you'll have to help me remove a particularly burdensome spirit from a property I'm looking to invest in."
"A spirit? Like a ghost?"
"Oh, yes, you're still new to this. Allow me to break you in - yes, ghosts exist. Werewolves, mummies, and I'd expect a whole lot of other things I've never seen share the night with us."
And Jack said to forget all the Twilight shit.
"What do I have to do?"
"Rumor is that a personal item of a ghost's may be used to draw it out or exorcise it from its haunt. While I don't put a lot of stock in hearsay, it's my last option. So I want you to go to the Ocean House hotel, find an item of the spirit's, and bring it back."
"Then you'll call off the feud?"
"So long as our business doesn't go sour, my word is gold."
She listened to Jeanette's falling tears as she left the club.
But only Therese had been in the room.
-V-
The story of the Ocean House hotel was written through newspaper clippings.
Just as the doors locked themselves behind her, a manic laugh filled the peeling halls. A brief flash of an axe-wielding man appeared to her right, but he was gone just as quickly. A woman was running through the upper level, her shirt soaked crimson and her black hair limp.
As she walked up the stairs, the steps creaked and broke into pieces, sending her falling into the darkness below. When she hit the bottom, red lights flickered, and the woman was before her, her bloody hand held out in a plea for help. But then she cried out and ran.
Ghosts had to relive the last moments of their life until they found eternal peace.
The woman was hacked into pieces over and over again.
-V-
The woman was not the only spirit in the hotel. The whispers of her two children slithered inside the walls as her husband chased them.
Vases were sent flying, but she could sense them. Jack had explained it to be called Auspex - her third eye. She was able to sense any beings or supernatural events around her, but only for certain amounts of time. Doing so burned through the blood she obtained from humans.
The wallpaper had rotted, decorated with splotches of red. It wasn't the original design.
Through newspapers and diary entries, she pieced together the horrific history of the Ocean House hotel.
Each link in the chain of a necklace was another addition to a jealous husband's rage. Each swipe of his axe against his screaming wife's body was a cover for his secret desires. Each tear fallen from the children's eyes was a sign of true reality. Each flame licking its way up the walls was a tendril of emotion.
As she grabbed the locket that had started it all, sunlight shone through the windows. And she did not burn.
The spirit whispered her regret-tinged gratitude. The Ocean House hotel continued to stand on supports of betrayal, leaving her in eternal darkness.
-V-
She was thirsty.
There, playing on his phone while tapping his foot impatiently. His blood smelled divine.
Jack was right; the better off really did have better blood.
And somehow he had ended up right in front of her apartment. Maybe God really did look after vampires.
"Hello."
His head snapped up, startled at her sudden appearance. He took her in quickly before going back to his phone.
"Hi."
"What are you doing?"
"Waiting for that fucking tow truck...you?"
"Enjoying the view."
He paid more attention to her after that, but nowhere near enough to be considered flattering.
"That's...nice." Suddenly his fingers were wiggling in front of her face, portraying the ring on his left index finger. "I bet this is an enjoyable view, too."
She silently snarled. Of course the closest feed had to be a married man. She took it back; God still hated vampires.
By now, she would've given up and left to drink from some homeless bum - but no. She wanted that blood. She was hungry, and wasn't going to settle.
Gripping his arm, she pressed herself against him, rubbing her chest against his and swallowing back bloody bile. "Congratulations. It must suck-" she inwardly snorted, "-to be attached to a ball and chain. You're missing out. I could show you a good time."
He stared at her for a few more moments before rudely shaking her off. "No, sorry."
Damnit. What was the use of these powers if they didn't work when she wanted them to? Weren't vampires able to seduce anyone they chose to? Surely she wasn't that bad looking...
She gripped his chin and stared straight into his eyes. "I know you want to go into that alleyway with me."
His eyes widened, and suddenly she was on the verge of collapsing, hit with a wave of exhaustion. What...was that? She could feel the blood within her...draining...
"I'm going into that alleyway over there. Join me." he murmured, his tone robotic. As he walked away, she pushed her questioning aside and lengthened her fangs.
Who was she to ignore an invitation like that?
-V-
"What, no knock? I could've been dressing."
She sighed. According to her outfit, Jeanette didn't really...dress.
"Where's Therese?"
"Ooh! Is that for her? Can I see it?"
"I'd rather give it to Therese."
Jeanette's eyes suddenly teared up with red liquid. Her lips parted at the gruesome sight; vampires cried blood?
"I'm not just some silly doll, you know! All my life my sister's made me out to be a joke. She told you I was an embarrassment, didn't she? That I couldn't tie my shoes, let alone hold on to something for her. Is that it?"
Therese was right, in a way. Jeanette was a child playing dress-up, whoring herself in an attempt to reach adulthood. Nevertheless, she felt pity for this insane Kindred.
"No, calm down-"
"She's always belittling me. She's the smart one, she's the favorite, she's the successful one." Her voice turned snide. "Well, it's not fair! I'm not a fool! This club's success is just as much my doing as it is hers!"
"I understand, but-"
"Do you understand what it's like to have your own flesh and blood ripping you apart on a daily basis for two lifetimes? Can you?" Bloody mascara was running down her cheeks. "CAN YOU?"
"Enough!" she suddenly thundered, and she could feel Jeanette's blood quake. Her fingertips felt sticky, and as she raised them to her face, little droplets of blood were coming out of her pores.
But as her temper cooled, the blood moved back into her body.
"Ah," Jeanette murmured softly. "So that's what you are."
-V-
"Fine. You hold on to it." Jeanette then smirked, her arms crossing beneath her chest. "Hmm...since you were so willing to brave that big, spooky place for my darling sister, how about doing a teensy, tiny favor for little, troubled me?"
"Would that put a smile on your face?" It was meant to be mocking - what she really meant was to cut the schoolgirl bullshit and just tell her what the hell she wanted. But Jeanette didn't appear to take it that way, instead smiling brightly. She winced.
"Do you know Gallery Noir, down the street? I happen to know there's a charity event being organized there. Lots of the influential Santa Monicans slithering in for token appearance. But there's one thing they don't know - the whole event's been set up by a Kindred trying to establish their own power clique in our city. And we can't let that happen, can we? So I need some brilliant young upstart to spoil the milk."
"This isn't going to get me to Tung any faster."
Jeanette pouted and reached for her, but then abruptly pulled back, as if touching her skin was sin. She looked down at her hands; there was no blood breaching the surface.
"I promise this won't take long. Take this knife. Give the paintings in the gallery a good slashing. Don't get caught and don't turn it into a massacre. And steal the charity box, would you? Buy yourself something velvet."
She snatched the knife from her, "Fine. Then the feud better be called off."
"I'm sure Therese will be thrilled to honor your agreement when you get back. But in the meantime, get to the gallery and ruin those paintings. Then pay me a visit; I want to hear all about it. Hurry up, I can only amuse myself for so long."
-V-
The security guard was an idiot.
It was truly a wonder how things got stolen.
With just a few words, she had him. Her lips on his sweaty neck, his grubby fingers clenched around the hem of her top. His breath rank of burnt meat from the diner across the street.
It was disgusting. Why couldn't she ever do this to smoking hot men?
Because she was stuck to those wandering the night, when outward masks were not required; the darkness hid their innerselves for them.
The guard still in a hypnotic daze (she hadn't taken much - she was already filled up from a girl at the Asylum), she snatched up his keys, forgotten on the ground.
She let herself in.
-V-
There were four paintings: Caine Slays Abel, Caine Cursed by God, Caine Meets Lilith, and Caine Spurns Lilith.
Caine...like from the Bible? She hadn't been religious in her...past life (or would it just be life, as this is "unlife"), but she knew of Caine. So he had something to do with vampires, it seemed. She knew enough from mythology that Lilith was the "Mother" of vampires. Was Caine the "Father" then?
She slashed the paintings in said order, and blood burst from each one, the four pathways joining in the center of the room, where a figure of vitae emerged. It lunged at her, its arm morphing into a claw, and she felt her chest burn as she took aggravated damage - damage that would take too fucking long to heal.
She went at it with the knife, but it was stronger, and every hit she made was two it did against her. Her shades were quickly knocked from her face, a long scratch trailing down her cheek. She waited for the blood to drip down her chin, but instead, it passed through the pores on her face. As it entered her, the pain suddenly cooled.
When it went for her again, she grabbed it, and the blood seeped over her, coating her body like a second skin. She smiled.
She could no longer feel damage.
She had created a blood shield.
No longer in pain, she hacked at the creature, over and over, until it was just a puddle on the floor.
The blood then slid from her body, forming its own sticky spot beneath her feet. Raising a hand to her face, it appeared to be completely dry. Huh.
She left the charity box.
-V-
Oh, fuck.
"You! What were you thinking?!"
"I-"
"The museum! That was MY event!" Therese thundered, her pale green eyes livid. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?!"
"But-"
"Shut up! I thought I could control my sister as long as Tung was out of the picture, but nothing's changed! I should've suspected that you'd succumb to Jeanette's influence like all the others. But how dare you!"
Succumb? She hadn't succumbed to anything! She only did it to get Jeanette the hell away from her. She widened her eyes in an attempt to look confused, but she doubted she needed much help with that. Her body was already reeling in confusion from her newfound abilities with blood.
"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me!" But as Therese searched her face, she seemed to take back her accusation. "Fine. Let's say I believe you. Did you at least get my pendant?"
"Here." The locket slipped from her fingers, but the horrors of the woman who wore it stayed within her.
"Thank you. Now look, I need one more favor..."
-V-
Her nostrils flared as she took a step closer. "We had an agreement. Call off the feud, NOW."
Therese blinked before laughing. "You silly fledgling. Did you just try to dominate me? You can't dominate other vampires, idiot. Why the prince has taken such an interest in you, I'll never understand."
Her fists clenched, blood slowly seeping between her knuckles. Therese picked up the scent, glancing down at the bloody hands with unbidden curiosity. Suddenly, the scent of her fear filled the room, and Therese stared at her with wide eyes.
"Impossible," she whispered, but shook her head in contradiction. Quietly, as if lowering her voice would stop the bleeding between the fledgling's fingers, she continued, "I need you to go to the diner across the street and meet Jeanette there. We had an argument and she refuses to see me. She seems to be taken with you - perhaps you can convince her to come back so I can apologize."
-V-
Her nose crinkled as she entered the diner. Jack hadn't needed to inform her of the heightened senses that came with her "curse." The milk was curdled, and there were rat feces in the kitchen. She assumed that was why there was no one in the diner - except for a group of thugs crowding a corner, wearing wife beaters and carrying shotguns.
Now why would someone need a shotgun in a diner? Suspicious.
It appeared death had not rid her of her sarcasm.
She moved cautiously towards the back booths, but not before stopping at the counter and staring the elderly clerk in the eyes. She wasn't sure why, but she knew something was about to go down. Violent or not, it certainly wouldn't be safe for humans.
"You want to go into the kitchen and lock the door. You are going to stay there until closing time, and you will forget ever talking to me."
Once again, it worked, the lady nodding and leaving the room. Hearing the door lock, she continued past booths until she reached the back. Empty.
The payphone on the wall rang, and she picked it up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"It's a set-up! Therese is trying to kill you! I had to lock myself in the bathroom because now she's got a gun and - please, you have to help me!"
"Jeanette, slow down-"
"Therese knew it was you at the gallery all along! She set you up and - did you hear that? She's crazy! She paid those men for a hit on you! She'll kill anyone who gets in the way of her becoming top dog of Santa Monica!"
She muffled her sigh into her sleeve, not wanting to scare Jeanette further. Mercurio could have warned her that the Voerman sisters were complete psychopaths.
"God, Jeanette, what have you gotten me into...Hold on, I'm coming."
"Hurry! I don't know how..." There was a gasp. "She's at the door! She's going to-"
The line went dead.
And a shotgun blast went off.
-V-
Pain.
Vampires could feel pain.
Well. She was glad she got that fucking mystery solved.
With a scream, she turned, blood pulsing from her fingertips. Two of the men were running towards her, and she could see the blood flowing beneath their skin. Her eyes narrowed, she flung her hand out and moved it sharply in an upwards motion.
The blood erupted from his mouth, bending him over as he purged it from his body.
Shakily pulling out her knife, she kicked the man back and slit his throat, black blood mixing with his spit and vomit. She did the same to the other men, pouncing on the last one and draining him dry.
The floors were stained with blood, the walls splattered. Slowly, she bent down, resting her fingertips over the slick liquid. It silently flowed back within her fingertips, filling her until she felt she would burst.
As she left, the diner was spotless.
-V-
The woman in Therese's office was not Therese. It was Jeanette.
The woman in Therese's office was not Jeanette. It was Therese.
She blinked.
"Holy fuck."
-V-
The woman turned to her, the revolver pointing at her chest.
"You," Therese growled, half a lip dipping into a snarl.
"Help me, she's crazy!" Jeanette cried, half a lip opening in fright.
"You stay out of this! To think anyone would risk their life for this tainted waste of blood. I guess this will just make it easier to kill both of you."
"Please, save me and I'll help you find Bertram! I swear-"
"Shut up, Jeanette! I warned you to stay away from Tung! He's turned you against me! I always looked out for you - you couldn't stand my success. You had to meddle, didn't you? I didn't want it to end like this, but you forced me!"
"You never gave me any credit for anything, Therese ! I was the one calling the shots. Bertram was on my leash. How does it feel to know that I beat you?"
There were two voices.
Two personalities.
One woman.
One body.
-V-
"What is going on here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Therese hissed, tightening her grip on the gun. "I'm about to rid the night of this deviant, backstabbing whore! You realize that, despite her condition, she still fornicates - with kine, no less! So despicable, so unclean!"
"You're one to talk, dear sister. Or should I say Daddy's Little Girl? Should I tell her just how depraved the baron of Santa Monica can be?"
"Shut up, Jeanette."
Therese's eye widened while Jeanette's eye narrowed in sadistic amusement.
"You'd love the world to think you're a saint, wouldn't you? When you thought I was asleep, I used to hear Father come in at night. I heard him whisper how much he loved you in your ear before he-"
"Don't. Finish. That. Sentence. Or you're dead!"
"Both of you stop."
"Don't you wanna hear what happened?" Half a lip jutted out in a pout. "How she became the pillar of the community she is today?"
"Shut up. Just shut up!" Therese screamed, her pale cheek going red with tears.
"Stop it right now. Both of you!"
"Don't try to stop me! I've had to deal with her treachery, her seduction, her relations with my enemies and the consequences of it! But I won't endure it any longer."
"Endure me?" Jeanette laughed. "Dear sister, you smothered me! You loved to bury me in your closet, along with all your other skeletons."
"I'm the good girl! You're the wicked one! You've done nothing but plot against me! And despite that, I've always covered up your mistakes. I've taken care of you. And this is how you repay me?"
"Taken care of me? You've done nothing but keep me down! Blame me for every mistake! Did you expect me to let you rule my life till the end of time? No sister, you've had it coming since our last sunrise!"
-V-
She breathed deeply. Yes, it definitely would have been nice for Mercurio to warn her how fucked up these sisters really were. She raised her hands slowly, warily watching Therese's hand swing the gun wildly.
"If you both want to continue to exist, you're going to have to live with each other."
"She's a control freak!" Jeanette screamed. "People, things, emotions. If she can't control something, she gets rid of it."
"And you're a wild animal," snarled Therese, half a face leering in disgust. "You'll roll up against anything that takes you in for the night. Then when you're stuffed and bored, you bite the hand that fed you."
She figured it was a bad time to snicker at the unintended pun.
"Both of you have been working against each other. Together, you'd be a power."
Therese faltered. "I...I don't think that's possible. How could I learn to trust her again?"
"Trust me? Who could trust you after what happened with Father Dearest?"
"Father loved me! I was a good girl! I always did what I was told."
"Yes," mused Jeanette, "I'm sure you did."
"You always hated that he loved me! You disobeyed him, you brought men home when he wasn't there! You were an awful daughter to him!"
For the first time, she realized that the daughters in the portrait on the wall had blood running down their white nightgowns.
"I think you win that category, dear sister." Jeanette turned to her. "Father came home one night, drunk, and mistook me for Therese because I had fallen asleep in her bed."
"Don't listen to her!" Therese cried anxiously, "She's lying!"
"Therese walked in while he was there after he had had his way with me. He was still sleeping when she went into his closet, grabbed his shotgun, loaded it with deer shot, and blew his mind out all over the fucking clown wall paper!"
"That's a lie! Father killed himself because of Jeanette! She made him miserable!"
Half a lip slowly twisted into a malicious grin. "As I recall, he died with a smile on his face."
-V-
"No matter what happened, you two need each other to move on."
"Why?" hissed Therese. "Why will this time be any different?"
She crossed her bare arms. "Because this time you'll be stronger. Instead of arguing over power you'll have more of it."
Jeanette pouted. "Therese doesn't like to share."
"Jeanette's irresponsible. She's undependable. A venture like mine requires class and distinction, which is something a pig-tailed, face-painting harlot does not do very well."
"You sure do have a way with words, dear sister. You're right, I'm not in the same class, am I? I mean, murderers are so respectful nowadays."
"Jeanette. Stop sabotaging your sister's plans."
"But I only do it for attention!" Jeanette smiled cheekily. "And love, of course."
"You do it because you're vindictive and jealous!" roared Therese.
"And you deserve it!"
Damn, these two really were sisters.
"Therese, let Jeanette have more responsibility."
"More responsibility? So that she can ruin every opportunity I give her?"
"Of course. You're the only one that can sign building permits and shake hands. I would never be able to keep up."
"If you call a truce and run this place equally, there's no need to kill each other."
"Well, if she would stop treating me like a child..."
Jeanette blinked her blue eye while Therese rolled her green one.
"If she would start behaving like a rational adult..."
"You both must have gotten along at one time."
They went silent.
"I suppose we did when we were kids..."
"Father didn't like me going outside so I didn't have many friends. Jeanette was really my only one."
"Since we couldn't go outside, we would imagine our own worlds and rule them together. Those were..."
"...happier times. Before we grew apart."
-V-
"You don't really want to kill each other, do you?"
"I never did," whimpered Jeanette. Therese scowled.
"No, I guess I don't. Jeanette. If I were to give - offer - you full control of Santa Monica, would you stop resorting with Tung?"
"I guess I can stop plotting against you with him." She smiled impishly. "But since I got him in my pocket, there's no reason for me not to go visit him once in a while...when we need something."
"That's not a bad plan. There's just one more thing. I want to be in charge of Santa Monica - but only publicly. I want you to continue to be my silent partner, and let others know our relations are still strained. That way..."
"...we know who our enemies are. I agree."
She smiled tightly. "Give me the gun, Therese."
Therese willingly handed it over. "Take it. I'd hate to look at it again and think of what almost transpired. I suppose now that Jeanette and I have settled our differences, I'll call off the feud with Tung."
"Bertram's hiding out in an empty fuel tank down at the old gas station. I'll tell him to expect a visitor, and I'll ask him to be extra nice."
"Thank you. Goodbye." Under her breath she added, "You fucked up pair of tourette lunatics."
Therese smiled pleasantly. "Please give Santa Monica's regards to the Prince."
"Oh, I think she'll be giving him more than that. But make sure you keep your tongue tied about what happened here tonight or we'll have to-"
"-kill you."
- V-
She called it the itch.
A tingling sensation, crawling through her gums and throbbing around her fangs. A warning sign of the hunger.
The hunger was a monster, bleeding into her body and overtaking her senses, till all she could hear was vitae pulsing beneath the veins. The hunger changed her from Kindred to beast. And the stupidest fucking thing to do was to let the beast go hungry.
The arrival of the hunger depended on how fulfilling the last feed had been. In this case, she wasn't worried.
But she didn't like to take chances.
The music set her ears aflame as she reached the ground floor. There, against the bar, her feet shifting nervously as she attempted to hide in a place she didn't belong.
Perfect.
-V-
"Oh my gosh, aren't you that movie star? I'm so embarrassed that I don't know your name, but I totally recognize you."
The girl blushed and glanced down at the dirty floor. "No, I'm not an actress."
She nodded, a slow smile taking over her face. "You're right, you couldn't be her. You're way cuter."
She giggled. "Really?"
"Really. In fact-"
"Hey girl!"
She grit her teeth but didn't turn around. "Knox, I'm busy."
"I know, but I - I can't find my master and I really need some and-"
"Knox. Go. Away."
"Look, just one fix, please-"
The girl's eyes widened. "Oh, um, I think I need to go-"
Her hand flew out and grasped her by the arm. "You're not going anywhere," she growled. The girl looked positively frightened, so she relaxed her grip and stared soothingly into her eyes, attempting to keep her face straight and praying to the God of vampires that she didn't make an idiot of herself. "You want to have sex with me. You are going to make out with me starting now."
There it was, the blood draining within her. Exactly what she had been trying to avoid.
The girl's eyes widened, and then she was all over her, hands running through her hair, mouth on top of hers.
"You know, this actually works too," Knox's voice was fading into the quaking of blood beneath hot skin, "I'll just stand over here..."
Tearing her mouth away from the eager girl, she ran her nose down the vein in her neck and bit down deeply, physically relaxing at the feel of the honeyed copper flowing throughout her own veins. Eventually the target began to pale, and she reluctantly stepped away. The girl stood in a daze, not noticing as other kine (Kindred word for humans, she had to remember that) pushed past her and onto the dance floor.
The skin above the base of her neck began to prickle as the sound of footsteps pounding with a purpose heading in her direction reached her ears, the man's intentions all too clear.
She groaned, a deep moan hidden beneath the music.
The last one-night stand had turned her into a vampire.
She wouldn't be taking any chances.
-V-
"Don't feel ashamed to hide that scowl, Cupcake. Kindred are too old for that," Bertram Tung mused lazily.
She could barely retain her revulsion at the sight of him. Gnarled, pink, blistered skin. Sharp, pointed ears and teeth. Dark, unreadable, beady eyes. Those were the traits of the Nosferatu.
"You knew I was coming."
His smirk was feral. "News travels down the Kindred grapevine like wildfire. Especially about the fledgling used as Nines Rodriguez's pawn against LaCroix."
She took a wary step back, not trusting the dormant arrogance in his eyes. "I'm part of the news?"
"Please, Cupcake. You ARE the news. You're all that's on the Kindred's tongues. The fact that LaCroix hasn't sent someone to deliver your Final Death to spite Rodriguez has rumors spreading."
Her breath caught. Well, it would have if she were breathing.
She hadn't even considered the possibility that LaCroix would just kill her and be done with it. No, not kill. The Final Death. She could not die, she was Kindred. But she could be destroyed, dissipated into burning ashes.
Like her sire.
"LaCroix would kill me? Just like that?"
Bertram shamelessly ran his eyes over her.
"No. He'd fuck you first." He grinned, revealing the gaps between the daggers of his teeth. "I know I would."
-V-
"So why'd you find me? What did you need?"
"I need to get to that warehouse for Mercurio."
"Hmm? Oh, nevermind. The warehouse, though - I've been watching the place. The Sabbat have a bunch of lowlife humans working day and night to move stuff through there. There's some major staging going on."
"What do you know about the Sabbat?"
"The Sabbat? Geez, you're green. Look, it's like this: we're all monsters, like it or not. I'm not gonna say the Sabbat are the evil vampires, 'cause...none of us are the good guys here. But the Sabbat, they glorify their monstrous nature. They refuse to hide it, and go out of their way to show it. They're also brainless and reckless; they have the life expectancy of a vampire fruit fly."
"Will I only encounter humans there?"
"As far as I can tell. The humans seem to know the score from the way they've been talking. I think most of them have aspirations of joining the next graduating class of shovelheads." She couldn't stop her lips from turning up at his comment. "Ugh, losers."
"So they know they're working for vampires?"
"Yep. The Sabbat like everyone to know just who they're dealing with. So if you get in there and have to bust a few heads...don't feel bad. Think of it as 'upholding the Masquerade'."
"Can you get me in there without being detected?"
"Yes, I can. You ready now?"
She nodded, but he stared, unimpressed.
"How many blood bags do you have on you?"
"None."
Bertram groaned. "How have you stayed undead this long?"
-V-
She reached for the handle to the Blood Bank when the door swung open of its own accord. She looked up quickly, hoping to have not come across someone who had just gotten their blood drawn; no matter how thin, how small - just the tiniest lick of the crimson honey leaking from the wound, and she wouldn't be able to resist. Hot blood was always the sweetest.
Instead she found herself face to face with eerily familiar blue eyes.
Nines Rodriguez stood in the doorway in an unexpected shock, his teeth halfway through ripping off the seal of a blood bag. Something curled deep within her as she felt her fangs lengthen, a thin trail dribbling down the side of the bag. Quicker than the human eye but slow enough for hers, he lapped it up, a dab of red left on his lips.
This man, this Kindred, saved her from her sire's fate.
They stared each other down before he murmured, "I knew Adam. I'm sorry he did this to you."
And then he was gone.
-V-
"Need a fix?"
The man selling blood at the window - Vandal - tilted his head to the side as he smiled crookedly. She pursed her lips, avoiding the crazed arousal in his eyes.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, don't be like that. All of your kind come in with that innocent 'who, me?' look on your faces. But I know the truth. You're a monster. You're not here to give blood; you're here to take it."
She sighed without air. What was the point of Jack's "uphold the Masquerade" speech if all the humans knew what they were?
"Fine. Hit me."
Vandal grinned, his teeth stained with blood. Kindred blood.
-V-
The low thrum of vibrations shook the floor.
She could feel it; a low, guttural groan, billowing over the ground like a blanket. The source was obvious; she was Kindred. But not completely.
She opened her third eye, allowing her to make out the female beyond the metal walls of the hospital. With Vandal counting her money, she slipped in through the side door next to the window and crept towards the refrigerated section, where blood was kept for mortals.
Or immortals, however you liked to look at it.
There, hidden behind the wall of the third room. She kicked a hole through the dry wall and slunk through, the stench of sour Kindred blood slamming into her senses. In the corner sat a girl, restrained with red vitae pouring from her wrists, not strong enough to heal herself.
"Please..." she whispered, orange hair a fiery sunset against the undead grey skin. "Help me..."
She was a thin-blood.
Quickly, she undid the restraints, just as a doctor - a traitor, a stealer, a murderer - entered the room. The thin-blood growled before pouncing on him like a feral animal, ripping his throat out and letting his life essence paint pleasure against her skin.
"The heat, it's never been so satisfying," she hissed, "drinking until I was sucking on a dead, dry artery." She glanced down at her work before suddenly shivering. "Oh, oh god, I killed him, I killed someone!"
She herself was strangely calm for having watched someone's throat get ripped out. But mortal life meant nothing, it took no time. It was merely a second of her existence. Of forever.
"Calm down."
"I just, I tried to steal some blood. I was hungry and, and they caught me and strapped me down. I thought I'd never escape. But I killed him! I have to get outta here."
"Okay, first," she didn't attempt to touch the girl, not wanting her own dead heat adding to the mural coated over her, "tell me who you are."
"I-I'm Lily. Who-who are you?"
Lily. E, the thin-blood from the beach. Lily was his sire, his love, his loss.
"I'm someone who knows E."
"E? He's okay, then? He was so angry with me for what I did to him, but I couldn't control it. He wanted me gone, he wouldn't let me explain what we are."
"You're a thin-blood."
"Yes. Thin-bloods are, from what my sire told me, vampires whose blood are weaker than most. Apparently we're a bad omen or something; that's why my sire wouldn't take me in. He left me with so many questions - just like I did E. I should go to him - but I can't, I mean I just killed someone!"
-V-
"You didn't have control. It's called the Beast," she explained, Jack speaking through her. "Without enough blood, you frenzy, allowing the Beast, the monster within you, to take over. Now go. Go see E. He told me he forgives you."
The amber in Lily's eyes brightened. "I'll go see him, then." She turned to leave, wiping her mouth on the rim of her shirt before pausing. "Have-have you ever frenzied?"
"Not yet."
-V-
"Why'd you have to go and let that bitch go?"
Vandal was furious. Beyond furious, actually, but that was due to the vampire blood in his veins. It fueled his strength, his power - and his emotions.
"How am I supposed to get blood now? This is all your fault. Well, no more blood for you. I'm cutting you off. Goes and gets rid of my blood supply and kills my partner, now I can't do him in myself-"
"Vandal." She gripped his upper arm and yanked him close to her, so close she could taste the Kindred blood in his breath. She recognized it.
Therese.
"Vandal," she repeated sharply, "Nothing happened here tonight. There was no girl here. I was never back here. Now get back to work securing my blood. Red for green."
"Red for green..." he relayed quietly before nodding. "Yes, of course."
She released him, smiling sweetly. "That's more like it."
-V-
"You even have a gun, Cupcake?"
Jack's .38 rested comfortably on her hip, underneath her skirt. She had a gun, yes; but no bullets. Those had been used back at the theatre, with shaking hands and a quick, nonexistent heartbeat.
She smiled instead, allowing crimson droplets to exude from her pores. Bertram hissed suddenly, just barely moving away, and he no longer looked like he wanted to fuck her.
"I don't need one."
-V-
The warehouse was damp and sticky as she slipped past the human workers, falling one by one as she lured them out and drained them dry.
Turned out she didn't need those blood packs after all.
Her top was stained permanently from one particularly messy incident, his blood dripping off the soaked fabric and running down her legs. She had almost been caught once, but after leaving the man alone regurgitating his own blood, he made no more ruckuses.
Finally relieving herself of her crouched position and standing - there were no more workers to see her anymore - she placed the astrolite behind a desk in the office building and set the timer for two minutes, as Mercurio had explained to her. When the countdown began, she bolted, out the door and down the steps, before freezing at what stood below.
The Sabbat.
They grinned viciously, rotten green skin coated in bright blue light as they called on their vampiric strength. Jeanette's knife was hidden inside her boot, and Jack's pistol was already in her hand, having reloaded it from bullets of the fallen. One had clipped her earlier, an obvious hole singeing her cheek.
The first one came towards her, moving raggedly and faster than the eye. She shot at it blindly and ducked as it knocked the gun away, grabbing her knife and plunging it into his chest.
As he dissolved, she flung her empty hand out towards the second one, twisting it and watching as the Sabbat did the same. Her hand jerked upward sharply, and its blood flowed from its mouth and into hers, the body dropping lifelessly to the ground.
She made a face. Kindred blood, or at least Sabbat blood for that matter, was truly disgusting. Able to hear the timer still ticking, she began to run again before pausing.
She had drunken another Kindred's blood.
What was that, vampire cannibalism?
-V-
The warehouse erupted behind her in an explosion of heat, casting her in a shadow as the flames licked her skin. A wolf cried in the distance, its growls increasing in volume as it ran across the rooftop of the adjacent station, muscles rippling beneath the silver fur. It landed in front of her gracefully, golden eyes peering up curiously.
And then it was not a wolf, but a man, standing before her, dark hair falling to his shoulders.
No, not a man.
Kindred.
-V-
"The warehouse," he murmured, his velvety voice betraying no emotion, "your handiwork, I presume?"
His eyes, a blaze of gold and orange, held hers calmly, and somehow she just knew he already knew everything there was to know about her. There was nothing to neither gain nor lose from lying to him.
"It was."
"Hopefully no Sabbat saw you escape. They can be somewhat...antagonistic, when angered. I admit I wasn't expecting you to make it out alive," he smiled lopsidedly, "or should I say, undead."
She wiped a string of blood off her chin as she regarded him suspiciously. His demeanor was outward and open, but his smirk was hiding something, something she had a feeling would be best kept under wraps.
"You've been following me. Who are you?"
His eyebrows heightened in shock. "I see my reputation, for once, does not precede me." He gave her a small bow, ending with a light flourish. "You can call me Beckett. I wouldn't say I've been following you, we've just been...coincidentally at the same places at the same time. For different reasons, of course - I apologize if I...unnerved you."
"So, it's a complete coincidence you show up at the Sabbat warehouse right after I blow it up."
His head tilted towards her. "No. This time it was intentional. Tell me - have you noticed or felt anything off, or strange, since your Embrace?"
"Besides the fact that I was Embraced?"
He stared down at her, unimpressed. "Yes."
Slowly, she raised a hand, blood exiting the skin and pooling over the surface. Intrigued, he lightly traced a finger over the skin of her palm, inspecting the blood closely.
"Hmm. I'm impressed; you're part of a dying breed." She resisted the urge to snort. "I'm sure our lovely Prince doesn't know of this, otherwise you wouldn't be here doing his bidding. But, what I was looking for, is that many of my contacts are sensing something unusual in the night air - something like dread, or a suffocating pressure.
"But, considering I'm not a native to these parts, I cannot say if this is irregular. And, since you're still," he paused, "fresh, perhaps you cannot sense it either."
The night was suddenly full of howls, full of pain and broken suffering. The Sabbat.
"Well." He bowed his head politely. "It was certainly forthcoming to make your acquaintance. I'm sure we'll meet again," he smirked, his expression enigmatic, "or never again. Take care, young one. No doubt the Sabbat are hunting you." His back made a sickening crack as he began to bend over, fur sprouting on the sides of his face. "Nor are they the only ones."
-V-
"Nice work, cupcake. Anyone within the surrounding ten miles felt that explosion. The humans are having a field day with this, heh. Man, there are gonna be some pissed off Sabbat tonight."
What was left of Tung's nose scrunched up. "You smell like dog."
"I met a...vampire named Beckett."
Bertram's pointed teeth were revealed as his mouth opened in shock. "You met Beckett? Huh, no kidding. Something major must be happening if he's showed up." At her confused expression, he added, "Beckett's like a vampire historian. He's unearthed more Kindred lore than all other Kindred put together. That's really all he does - seeks the truth behind our..." he nodded his head thoughtfully, "...condition. Now, speaking of our 'condition'-
"-in case you haven't noticed, Kindred aren't exactly getting along well in the sandbox right now. We got the anarchs against the Camarilla, and the Sabbat just trying to fuck everything up. In comes those thin-bloods who can't handle having some sharpened teeth, and on top of that, Kindred are starting to flock to their own clans, and before you know it, we'll have a ten-way war on our hands."
What a perfect time to be Embraced. Really, she couldn't have asked for a better time.
"What'd you mean by clans?"
He sighed. "Clans. You know, bloodlines we belong to? Jeez. What, you think you and the werewolf scholar come from the same place? Clans are basically our bloodlines, fledgling, and you'd do well to know them. And, considering our handy dandy Kindred know-it-all is out chewing a bone somewhere, I'll have to be the one who teaches them to you."
-V-
"We don't choose our clans - not really. Our sire chooses us, and if we accept they turn us. Oh, don't look at me like that, I know you have some sob story where your sire forced the Embrace on you and couldn't take care of you because LaCroix killed him. We all have fucked up lives, cupcake. Now, as I said, clans are our bloodlines - a common root shared from sire to childe. My sire was a Nosferatu, therefore I'm a Nosferatu. And get that pity off your face; I never cared about looks anyway."
-V-
"The Brujah. They get off on violence - a lot of Kindred do, granted, but the Brujah enjoy setting up the fights themselves. They're a bunch of miscreants. Crime and violence gives them their own special high, but their increased brute strength is probably the cause of that. The most well known Brujah 'round here would be Smiling Jack, anarch legend. Way I see it, he gets to kill or fuck whoever he wants and still gets the utmost respect. Now, I admire their passion and everything, but the anarchs are kidding themselves if they believe they can take down the Camarilla. Their 'leader', I suppose, Nines Rodriguez, is also Brujah, but I hear he actually uses what's in his head and not just what's in his fists. But anyway.
"Nothing breeds faster than contempt, and that's what the Brujah are all about. Jealousy and contempt."
-V-
"Now, Gangrel can walk upright, they just choose not to. Werewolves, fancying themselves in prancing around the lake and howling at the moon. Pathetic loners, more like. Their only goal in unlife is survival - some of them stay in packs, but most consider themselves alone. Their shifting ability puts most of us on edge - not even a Brujah, let alone any other clan, can take on a werewolf and survive. Sure, Gangrel are like werewolf puppies, but still. Of course, Gangrel have a nice bite and everything, but it can get...messy. Never get a Gangrel bite, cupcake. It takes longer than a few seconds to re-grow a limb. You've met Beckett, the most famous loner there is. As you saw, he's not exactly a ten foot, bloodthirsty monster.
"Wait till you see a real werewolf. You won't find them so adorable then."
-V-
"Malkavians are...interesting. They have a deeper insight behind reality, but it's hard to tell whether it's wisdom or bullshit with them. You'll know them when you meet one - they speak in riddles and constantly mention being the prophet of the 'voices' in their heads. Of course, there are those who can fit in a civilized society, but those are the real crazies. They keep up an act of normalcy while going paranoid behind their masks. Their deranged ramblings, however, are what make them dangerous. Malkavians tend to have, uh, violent tendencies. With psychotic minds such as theirs, the last thing you want is the voices telling them you're next on Caine's hit list.
"But, overall, they're all good fun if you ask me."
She cocked a brow. "Like Jeanette Voerman?"
He grinned wickedly, shrugging. "What can I say? You've seen her. Now, if only I could get her hard-ass sister to join in..."
-V-
"I don't rub elbows with the pretty bloodsuckers much. A Toreador wouldn't be caught alive with a Nosferatu. The Toreador are the ones most "in touch" with their humanity, let's say. They can work kine like puppeteers, and I suppose that's admirable. Actors, singers, artists, poets - any form of that self-expression bullshit and you got a Toreador. Of course that also means you got the stuck up celebrities and the strippers as well. Now, I like a good time and all, but the Toreador...well, whether you're kine or Kindred, they'll fuck you all the same. Sure, they're all glamorous or whatever, but even I have standards. Fucking and partying and manipulation - roll them together in one hot bod and you created a Toreador.
"Now if only they'd put their talent to some use other than feeding their egos."
-V-
"Now, the Ventrue - they may have large egos, but at least they have good reason for it. They actually have an 'honorable' reputation, if that even means anything anymore. Natural leaders and the like. Majority of the Camarilla is made up of the Ventrue clan - and that gives them a bit of a bad rap. If the Camarilla had a hierarchy, Ventrue would be at the top. They...enjoy enforcing tradition on us, let's say. Kindred police, in a sense. Of course they're power-hungry and arrogant to the point of being obnoxious, but I can't really hold it against them. Sure, they're all hard-asses, but I respect them enough.
"Everyone likes to take shots at the man in charge, but when it comes to getting the job done, the Ventrue know how to step up. They can take the heat."
-V-
"We Nosferatu are damn good at what we do. If you need to know, if you want it found - you come to us. We're the eyes and ears of the Camarilla - and they take good care of us. Or they just don't want to get on our bad side. We may be loyal to the Camarilla - but when it comes down to it, they really work for us. Don't get on our bad side, cupcake, because one word and we can destroy you. Nosferatu are the underground network of knowledge and information. We're undetectable and untraceable. And yes, being a Nosferatu means you have to look like this; but most of us were hackers, information brokers, dealers. Beauty wasn't high on the agenda. Of course, something we do all have in common is one sick sense of humor, and the chance to carve up a pretty face is sometimes too tempting to pass up.
"All information comes with a cost, cupcake. No one knows that better than we do."
-V-
"I don't have any reason to trust the Tremere. Mages and blood magic. They aren't...natural. They were created to be superior, and in turn they have their own creations - sick, disgusting, flesh-crafted creatures. They have their own inner circle - all very hush hush, so much that even the Camarilla stays out of their business. They hide their secrets well, well enough that they're off-limits to even the Nosferatu. But from what I've heard, Tremere are powerful; one might be wary of a Malkavian, but the Tremere are something to be feared. Fortunately, I hear they're a dying breed. Maybe one or two in all of L.A.
"Blood magic isn't something to be in awe of - it's creepy and something to be afraid and disgusted of. And I think they like it that way."
-V-
"...And that's all I'm gonna share tonight, cupcake. Run along to our beloved Prince."
She ran her black nails through her mangled hair, blood and the dark stickiness of gun residue coating her fingers. Her nose scrunched up; she'd have to clean the night's sins off herself first.
"Thank you, Bertram."
He slowly tilted his head to the side, the grisly skin of his elongated ear brushing against his shoulder. Suddenly, he chuckled.
"I'm no Ventrue, fledgling. Manners won't get you anywhere. Eventually you'll forget what they are. You think vampires are the pristine future of society, all mature and arrogant and godlike? Huh. We're nothing more than savages."
-V-
As the muddy grime was washed away from her shoulders, sliding around the curvature of her chest and down between her legs, she turned towards the mirror, beads of water dripping down the glass.
She saw nothing but an empty room.
-V-
The dark glasses of the cabbie met her eyes in the rear view mirror as downtown LA came into view. The Venture tower stood tall above all the other buildings, its lights pouring out of its many small windows.
When the cab pulled up in front of an alleyway next to the tower, she thanked him quietly and exited the vehicle. The man gave her a slow smile before driving away, and she unsurely raised a hand in farewell.
Pain then blossomed from the back of her skull as a loud crack resonated off the walls of the alley, and the ground rushed towards her as she fell into unconsciousness.
"Oh, are we gonna have some fun with you."