A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all have some pleasant free days, whatever you're up to. Enjoy!


Sodom's Sanctuary


"Jeanette, for the tenth time, the item we retrieved is meant for your sister. We can't give it to you." My patience is quickly wearing thin, dealing with Therese's demented sister feels like dealing with a five year old whining for a lollipop.

No brain, don't go there. Don't imagine Jeanette with a lollipop.

A pout appears on the woman's dark red lips. "I'm not just some silly doll, you know." Her bottom lip starts trembling and she lets out a sob. "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?"

I roll my eyes, now the creep is throwing a tantrum. Fortunately Vixie is with me, after seeing her tears she immediately rushes forward to hold Jeanette and whispers in her ear. "Hush white daughter, please do not shed tears."

Despite the soothing words the freak continues sobbing, burying her face in Vixie's neck. "She's always belittling me. She's the smart one, she's the favorite, she's the successful one. Well, it's not fair! I'm not a fool! This club's success is just as much my doing as it is hers!"

Vixie gently strokes Jeanette's back. "We know the truth. Janus' beautiful white daughter was fundamental to the success of Sodom's Sanctuary."

Jeanette lets out yet another wet sob in Vixie's neck. "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?"

"Forgiveness, white daughter, but this is for the other only."

It finally dawns to the woman's simple mind she won't get the pendant we retrieved from the haunted hotel. "Fine. You hold on to it." Her fake tears instantly vanish, making way for an appraising look-over for the both of us. "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?"

I scowl as I watch the woman go from sobbing little girl to cheerful, reasonable businesswoman in less than a second. That manipulative bitch. Vixie acts like she's completely entranced by the woman. "For you I would face the flame at noontime."

Seeing where this is going I try to prevent getting us sidestepped once again. "Look Jeanette, we'd love to help, but we have a job to do for Prince LaCroix. We need your sister to call off the feud with Tung."

"I promise this won't take long. I'm sure Therese will be thrilled to honor your agreement when you get back." She turns to Vixie, who's still holding her close, and nuzzles her neck with her lips. "And for you, my precious duckling, I will make it especially worth your while." Jeanette all but purrs the last sentence and Vixie's face almost melts from arousal.

"Anything to please our white mistress." Jeanette giggles happily in response, before explaining what she expects us to do.


"You know what she's trying to do, right?" I explode as the elevator door closes behind us. "Asking a Toreador to slash up art! She just loves exploiting all my weaknesses, the manipulative bitch."

Vixie is almost tearful as she watches my tirade. "We didn't realize…"

"And the constant flirting with you! She's only doing it to play us against each other, to drive us apart."

The Malkavian grabs my hands in an attempt to calm me down. "Please subdue your anger! Your little vixen is not to blame!"

Her distress calms me down, but the molten fury still simmers in the pit of my stomach. "No, you're not," I say through gritted teeth.

"Despite the sisters' quarrel, they are as meticulously connected as two sides of a coin. Riling the white sister will infuriate the black one, obliterating our chance of finding the Worm. And we shudder of the thought of becoming victim to the sisters' anger, the power of impairing the psyche is equal parts terrifying as it is unpredictable. We beg of you not to walk that road!"

I stare thoughtfully at her. "If you are afraid of them it's probably best to proceed with caution."

She looks at me with grim sincerity, a face I never saw her make. "Reminisce it is the Jester who is Prince, not his Herculean Sheriff. Brain over brawn!"

Once again I'm confronted with the Malkavian's incredible intelligence, despite being kindred for half a week she has already a very good grasp on our new society. Compared to her I'm still stumbling around in the dark, helpless like the fledgling I am. "Sharp thinking. At this point of our careers it would be very unwise to make enemies with a baron, certainly one as unpredictable as her."

Vixie nods eagerly, clearly glad her words came through. "And if that means sacrificing precious art?"

I turn the dagger Jeanette gave me in my hand and hand it to the Malk. "It's not like we've much of a choice. But you better do the slashing."

The Malk nods and takes the dagger. "We shall do this dark deed."


We step out of the elevator into the club, where we are met with loud music and a sea of dancing bodies. My favorite track is played and the crowd has a strange pull on me. Too much naked limbs of beautiful women, short skirts and sleeveless shirts seem to be the latest fashions. I love it, however; I need to vent my frustration and the dance floor is too alluring to resist.

Forgetting all about Vixie for the moment I make my way into the mass of dancing people and let the pounding bass reverberate through my body. I allow it to take over, rocking gently to the rhythm. Soon my seductive movements start to attract attention, but mostly from the male crowd. Inadequate. I move through the dance floor slowly, scanning for a possible prey.

I quickly find her.

She watches me curiously from the corners of her eyes, but quickly turns away when our eyes meet. Her nervous smile and flustered cheeks are like a siren's call to me. She's a beauty, barely twenty years of age. Clad tastefully in a short skirt, high heels and a nice blouse, yet imagining the body underneath isn't hard. Fit and healthy, with nice curves and a medium sized chest. Her long brown hair nicely accentuates the gentle features of her face, and a naughty, playful light burns in her deer brown eyes. A playfulness that is only accentuated by her slightly tipped nose, flushed lips and dimpled cheeks.

Unable to resist I dance my way straight into her comfort zone. For a second she looks surprised, but then she relaxes and starts dancing with me. I smile seductively and she looks away again, but her body language betrays her interest. I decide to be bold and close in on her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her close. She tenses, but as my breasts press into hers I can feel her relax into my touch.

My lips find her ear shell and I gently lick it, making her quiver. "Sorry for being so forward," I say in her ear, voice slightly raised to make myself heard over the pounding techno music. "But why waste time on silly pickup lines when I could also be dancing with a beauty of nature?"

Our bodies continue to grind into each other and for a while we're just content dancing. Her lips move to my ear. "I'm not sure what you're doing or how you're doing it, but please don't stop."

I grin, the imploring look she gives me betrays she's completely helpless to her traitorous body as my fingers rove over her more sensitive parts. "Careful with those pleading eyes," I breathe. "You'll make me want to leash you and take you home like an obedient pet."

Her eyes grow in surprise. "F-Fuck… that's so twisted and wrong and… hot!"

I give her a predatory smirk, making her shrink back and dip her head in submission. The fact that she's a victim to my beauty and strong persona makes me feel empowered. The way the sweet, innocent girl succumbs to me arouses me like never before, and the feeling comes as a pleasant surprise.

When I learned what I had become I feared I would never feel arousal anymore, as there obviously aren't any hormones or sense organs left in my dead body. But the vampire's blood gives me some rudimentary form of touch, as life would be impossible without it. I can still feel the warmth and softness of the woman who's obediently submitting to my busy hands. My cold body craves the heat radiating from her warm one.

I'm almost going crazy from touching her flustered cheeks and ears. The hand fondling her body finds its way down to her nether regions, like a magnet it's pulled under her short skirt. The soft, slightly damp fabric of her panties tingles pleasantly against my fingertips as I massage the soft, sensitive flesh underneath. Her lustful moan sends hot breath caressing my neck, making my inner beast go absolutely crazy.

It wants to bask in her heat. It wants the red hot blood raging underneath that infinitely soft layer of skin. It wants to nibble on the pulse point in her neck, tease all her erogenous zones into making the hormones explode into her blood to create an even sweeter, more potent mixture. My entire being is centered on the handsome woman in my arms, not because I want her in my pants, but because she's the vessel of my life giving fluid. I'm attracted to her beauty, not because of an evolutionary quirk to look for the best genes for my offspring, but simply because my beast wants the best possible blood.

Nothing has changed, I still crave for and chase after beautiful women. Just for a slightly different reason.

As my teeth sink into her neck the blood explodes into my system like heroine. It's the best I've ever tasted, it's absolutely delicious and gives a massive kick. She must be a very rich, healthy girl indeed. Never before have I felt so powerful, like the world is at my feet. I think of all the women who turned me down in the past. I feel irresistible now, like no woman in the world could possibly resist my seduction.

I didn't become a vampire, I became a Goddess!

I feel the girl weaken under my hands and I quickly pull out, not wanting to hurt the pretty thing more than necessary. Feeling a bit guilty and not wanting to leave her helplessly in the crowd I gently guide her outside and into a waiting taxi. When I explain the driver the alcohol got to her head he shoots me a suspicious look, but doesn't press his case. In the girl's purse – her name is Amanda Stephenson according to her ID card – I find her home address, and I pay the driver for the ride and tip to see her safely inside.

Having regained a bit of consciousness Amanda smiles gently as she mutters, "…such a gentleman."

If only you knew, I think as I watch the cab drive off.

I smirk widely from the incredible feeling of ecstasy cute Amanda gave me and vaguely wonder if I should indeed make her my pet. It would give me a constant supply of that exquisite blood. My smirk only grows as I realize I'm already starting to think like a true vampire.

Still laughing and finally completely relaxed I step back inside the Asylum to pick up the lunatic, only to lose my smile when I find said lunatic manhandling Knox, the obnoxious ghoul. "The truth does not match the words that fall from your mouth, Golden Ghoul. We command thee to summon Nasty Dude!"

If she wasn't blabbering such nonsense the sight of the petite woman shoving around the large, muscular guy might've amused me. "What are you even saying, Vixie? Let go of the poor pet, he's nearly crapping his pants."

She shoots me a surprisingly sharp look. "Bold one! The Golden Ghoul's master is actually the Hidden Worm who will track our secret path into the House of Wares!"

It takes a moment to process what she's saying. "Knox's master is Bertram Tung?" I ask feebly.

She nods fervently. "And he planted the Golden Ghoul here to coax us into doing a dirty, dark deed: exterminating an oriental life-eater."

I feel my mouth drop open and see my expression reflected in Knox's face. "C-c-can you read minds?!" he blurts out.

"You mean she spoke the truth?" I exclaim, eyes drifting between the ghoul and my companion, who now officially scares the living daylight out of me. Knox can only mutter to himself, clearly terrified by the Malkavian, so I grab him by the collar to force our eyes to meet. "Knox, the truth," I grit in my most commanding tone.

"There's no way she could've known!" he mutters in a pleading tone, eyes full of fear as they're fixed on Vixie. "No way! She's like Jesus, man! X-raying your brain to judge your thoughts and shit."

I tighten my grip, and glare. "Knox!"

"Alright, alright, I'll come clean," the ghoul says quickly. "My master is Bertram Tung. He knew you were comin', knew you'd come by here. He planted me and told me what to say about the Asian vamp, but it's true, I swear."

A low growl escapes my throat. "We've been running around town whole night to find Tung, and he's your master all along? Take us to him, right now!"

"Aw man, I wish I knew where he was. I dunno where he is or stays or anything. Aw man I- Whenever he needs me he just... ya know... appears."

"Appears? Like he's invisible? Like Vixie's Obfuscate power?"

"I don't know 'bout that, but he's a Nosferatu! They operate indirectly, ya know? From the shades!"

Vixie grabs my arm, making me start a bit. "The Golden Ghoul's words match the truth this time. Our way to the Worm is through Janus' daughters." My head starts spinning, things are suddenly going way too fast for me. It was so much easier when Vixie was still the simple lunatic, she isn't supposed to go all clairvoyant on me all of a sudden.

My thoughts are interrupted by the ghoul. "So will you help me? This Asian guy needs to be taken out. Whoop! I can't do it, so Bertram needs you to."

I watch Knox darkly. "You fucking lied to me, mate. If you want my help you better make it worth my while."

"Aw, c'mon man! What could I possibly have that a frickin' vampire would want? When I hear from Bertram, I'll let him know you're lookin' for him, how's that? C'mon dude."

"I'm not your dude! And I don't see why we should bother risking our necks to take out some yellow bastard."

"Seriously, no really, this thing is here and it's bad news for all of us. According to Bertram he's some kind of weird Asian vampire, one of many flocking California. He says there could be an army of 'em show up any day unless we show 'em we mean business. Who knows what they're up to?" When I stare blankly at him he starts to pout. "C'mon, this guy is freaking me out! I was ordered to keep an eye on him, but now I feel like he's watching me! He's gonna fucking kill me. Ow man."

I look at my Malkavian companion who's still clinging to my arm. Her face is scrunched up in thought. "Eradicate a latent peril, earn Camarilla kudos, comprehend the life-eater and meet the Worm possibly sooner." She counts each benefit of helping Knox on her fingers and shows me the four raised digits, like the hand itself is an infallible conclusion to our dilemma. Still, she brings up good points.

I shake the clingy creature off me and turn to Knox. "Tell us what you know."

"Awesome!" he all but screams for the entire club to hear, before starting a longwinded explanation of his findings.

When the loathsome creature finally leaves I shoot Vixie a calculating look, wondering what the deal with her is. There's much more to her than meets the eye, that much is for sure. I've already concluded she's both perceptive and intelligent – she's mad, not blind and stupid – but she knows stuff she shouldn't know. Is this the cursed Malkavian blood talking or am I being played?

When she spots me watching she grins goofily, which coupled with that childish outfit makes her look like the most innocent, harmless creature in the world. Add to that the facts that she has tried her earnest to make herself useful and hasn't shown any tendencies to hurt me, and it's hard to imagine any evil in her. I'm just going to have to make that leap of faith and trust her, because frankly there's no one else to trust. I can't do all of this all on my own.

So we start our search for Knox's mysterious adversary. Despite the ghoul's vague directions and thanks to Vixie's computer skills we swiftly track the Asian vampire down to a local warehouse, where he has holed himself up to spy on the local kindred society. In his computer we find detailed information on his investigation. He even mentions two new LaCroix agents who arrived in Santa Monica only days ago. There are only two kindred matching that description and they're both exchanging grim looks right now. It's clear the bastard must die.

We find Cathayan in the actual storage area, well equipped with a crossbow and katana. While Vixie takes cover behind some boxes to shoot him from afar, I take out my baseball bat to smack his head. The slimy bastard is quick. He catches me by surprise and manages to wound my arm, before vanishing and reappearing on a higher level.

Vixie's gunfire keeps him occupied while I check my arm. Tis just a flesh wound, Amanda's grade A+ blood is already taking care of it, bless her. Anger once again rises as I look at the bastard readying his crossbow. I focus my blood into Celerity and see the world slow down around me, each detail coming into surprisingly sharp focus.

In a flash I've climbed the ladder to his level and storm him, bat ready. When I'm halfway toward him power radiates off Vixie, and suddenly Cathayan lets out a hysterical scream as his eyes grow wide in horror, momentarily lowering his crossbow. Not letting such a chance go to waste I smash in his brainpan with everything I have, making him go down in a neat display of fire and ash. He obviously wasn't a very high ranking vampire.

I grab his weapons. The katana is a good weapon to use myself and we can sell the crossbow to the local Pawn Shop for a nice profit. When I turn to Vixie she grins and makes a deep bow. "We are in thine debt, bold one."

She seems genuinely grateful, so I smile at her and pat her shoulder. "Without you backing me up it wouldn't have been so easy. You used a mind trick on him, didn't you?" She nods eagerly, like a proud little girl, and I can't help but chuckle. "Great job! I'd say we make a good team, your abilities nicely compliment mine."

The Malk grins. "The silver-tongued warrior and the extrasensory thief! Coming soon to theaters near you." When she starts humming the Universal Studios intro tune I take my cue to ignore her and leave the warehouse.

With that out of the way – the Camarilla and Tung ought to be quite happy – we can't stall the inevitable any longer. It's time to perform the spoiled brat's little task. She wants us to ruin a high society kindred event by destroying some paintings and stealing money from the 'charity' box. Normally I wouldn't be keen on stealing from the needing, but Jeanette explained it actually contains bribes. She'd prefer we use it to buy Vixie something velvet… I can think of more useful things than fueling the perverted creep's desires.

When we reach Gallery Noir we find it surrounded by police officers, the kindred have secured their event pretty tightly. I make a quick scan for weak points and find a fat officer guarding an alleyway. Hoping he's guarding a back door I approach him, noticing he's sweating like mad and out of breath.

He pales considerably when he notices us. "Hey! Hey... hey, hold on a minute there. I'm afraid you're committing a 351, that's trespassing on private property. I'm gonna have to ask that you vacate the premises immediately or I'm afraid I'll be forced to radio this in."

Get a load of this guy! He's talking like he's the head chief in charge, or whatever it is these coppers call their leaders. Unfortunately for him I know just how to sweet-talk such power players. "Wow. The way you said that, it was so... commanding." I flutter my eyelashes at him and give him an awed little smile.

He's, understandably, taken aback by my words, but then he puffs his chest in pride. "That's just a natural response that people have to someone in my kind of position, huh." I almost roll my eyes but stop myself just in time. He continues making a total ass of himself by mentioning things like prestige, authority and risk and all I have to do is talk with him, compliment him on his powerful aura.

When he's sufficiently infatuated with me I make my move. I hone in on him, leaning in as if I were to kiss him. If the muscles in my gullet still worked I probably would've gagged from seeing his stained shirt and sweaty face. He smells like too much cheap aftershave. Despite that I let my lips wander to his lips, only to veer off at the last moment. I sink my teeth in his neck and start sucking blood, letting the familiar rush overwhelm me as my body heals and my mind is invigorated.

The lack of blood makes him wobbly on his feet, giving us the opportunity to sneak past him into the alley. When we're well out of sight Vixie starts cackling madly. When I inquire gruffly what's so funny she says between fits of laughter, "The bold one truly is a dedicated follower of Sappho's teachings. Even sweet jelly doughnut failed to breach the walls of her heart!"

I fold my arms. "Why didn't you tell me you're attracted to that kind of man?" I press my index finger against her breastbone. "Next time you can seduce him."

Her eyes grow wide in horror and she grabs my hand with both hers. "Mercy, bold one! Please let us stick to our designated roles! Our words were merely of jest, we did not wish to invoke the wrath of our pretty Prince!"

I glare at her. "So 'Prince' is your new pet name for me? Are you comparing me to the wimp in control of LA now?"

The madwoman's eyes continue to grow to the size of saucers. "Not at all! It's the universal kindred term for leader, and as it is the bold one taking the lead she's our Prince. The Jester is Prince too, but in this context completely unrelated, we swear!" She seems absolutely distressed now, almost on the verge of crying.

Again I'm surprised by the amount of respect she seems to hold for me and her fear for being abandoned. There's the nicknames she gives me; 'bold one', 'strong one' and now 'Prince'. When a decision needs to be made she looks at me expectantly, when I give her an order she follows blindly. Never before has someone trusted me this unconditionally. I can only guess why. Perhaps her clan's cursed insight has told her something about me? Am I destined to do great deeds, making her want to stick close to me?

I almost snort from the ridiculousness of that idea as I look at the pathetically sobbing creature in front of me. She's just a lost little puppy that needs a strong master to take care of her. And now she's afraid her misbehavior will lose her the sympathy of her master. I pat her shoulder. "Relax, I'm not angry with you. The way you talk is just bloody confusing."

A wide smile nearly splits her face in two and she nods eagerly. "Yes, the blood mingles with our tongue!" She looks at me with a contented smile, as if we just came to a full understanding concerning her speech impediment… Hey, at least she's calm again.

At the back of the alley we indeed stumble upon a back door. On my order the vixen makes short work of the lock, granting us entrance to the gallery. There are four large, beautiful paintings on display, all depicting a part of Caine's life. Yeah Caine, that dude from the bible, slaughtering his brother and invoking God's wrath in the process. Not the brightest fucker if you ask me, how did he think murder wouldn't piss off the omnipotent being that bullied his parents out of Paradise for eating an apple?

Still, it makes for some impressive pictures. The paintings are so incredibly well-made I find myself entranced with them, until Vixie reminds me of our task. She's standing in the exact center of the room, studying the four paintings while holding her chin and softly mumbling to herself. It's almost as if she's discussing something with some invisible entity. After a while she claps her hands happily. "Of course! The clutches of father time even seize images of canvas and paint."

Only when she starts slashing the paintings I understand what the hell she was talking about. Caine Slays Abel, Caine Cursed By God, Caine Meets Lilith, and finally Caine Spurns Lilith. For reasons unknown she has slashed the paintings in chronological order!

As soon as all four paintings are damaged our eyes grow wide in disgust. Blood pours out of the canvas, as if it had been skin covering a living body. The red liquid streams to the center of the gallery, where it clogs up into a solid ball. The ball grows and starts sprouting limbs, until a creature made of blood stands before us.

Before we can even move it makes a quick stab at Vixie, piercing her stomach. The tortured scream she lets out makes my heart grow cold and I can only watch as she slides down, her horror-filled, soft blue eyes locked onto mine, pleading. When her body falls to the ground with a wet thump, cold fear makes way for molten fury as something inside me stirs.

It is then, the world turns dark.