Disclaimer: I don't own the World of Darkness, nor am I making any profit from this story. I would have thought the first four chapters would have clarified this already.

A/N: So, another update. I apologize that they're spaced out and random. Finding time is tricky. And finding the right words to tell the story is even worse. Anyways, hope you enjoy it, and feel free to review.

Chapter 4: Hunting 101

You here a lot of people talk about Hell. About how it's such a bad place, or maybe a situation? The lines tend to get a bit blurred depending on the use of the word. But there's a few things that some people don't seem to realize. I'm not saying that Hell is not bad. I'm just saying that I doubt it's the be-all end-all bad situation people make it out to be. Trust me, there are things worse than Hell. Preparing to go through Hell is one of these.

-Third undated entry from the journal of Trevor Reed

Month: August / Date: 13th / Year: 1997

Dear Journal,

I realize that I haven't exactly been staying on top of things lately when it comes to making entries, but I guess I have a good reason for this. A week or so ago, the library was broken into. It wasn't a fun experience. The individuals responsible took Celia and a book she had with her, and left me in a pretty roughed up state. I guess it could have been worse.

I'm still not entirely sure what's going on. The group that came in after the incident are all acquaintances of Mr. Crestmere, and I'm not sure how much I can trust them.

I'm also a bit worried about the state of their mental health. It surprises me that Mr. Crestmere would associate with people like these. Seriously, I saw one of them, Mitchell I think his name was, working on a camcorder. When I asked him what he was doing, he told me he was applying a special coating to the lens, and rewiring some of the circuits so that it could accurately pick-up video footage of vampires.

How do you respond to that? I mean, I can understand enjoying mythology, but when you're starting to tinker with your electronics so that they can pick-up images of crap like this, I think your hobby may have gotten a bit out of hand.

And all of them are like this. That's also partially why I've been delayed in writing anything. Apparently, after the fiasco at the library, I've gotten myself tangled up in this. And so they've taken it upon themselves to train me, so that next time I'll be able to fend for myself.

I don't exactly like the fact that they're so sure there will be a next time...

-TR

Trevor closed the small leather-bound journal and set the pen down, picking up the ice pack next to it, and placing it over his right eye, which was swelling nicely, and would leave him a rather ugly looking shiner. One of the individuals here had been appointed to train him in hand to hand combat. And she took great delight in doing so.

Rebecca was all of five-foot six, and maybe about one-hundred-seventy-four pounds. This was, understandably awkward for Trevor, who had never been one for fighting to begin with, but had also never raised his hand to a woman in his life. The awkwardness of that was soon replaced by the awkwardness of getting one's ass thoroughly whipped by a person who's smaller than you. Especially since Trevor was not an especially big person to begin with.

He winced at the memory of their most recent encounter. He still had yet to land a solid blow on her, and he'd been trying, having discarded his stance on hitting a woman around the time she split his lip, bloodied his nose, and planted her foot firmly in his family jewels. And that was almost a week ago. Today's session involved him missing a left cross, and catching her knee in his ribs for his trouble, and then her elbow in the side of his head twice, and then things got a bit blurry and all he could really remember was hearing a few of the others laughing as he tried to push himself off the floor while struggling to remember exactly how he got there.

"Hey mate, ya' alrigh' in 'ere?" Trevor turned his head, spotting a familiar face leaning against the doorway of the little room they had supplied him here, though he wasn't entirely sure where here was. About all he could gather was that it was some large house, like a mansion maybe, but designed less with the intent of showing off one's opulence, and just so it had the room required for everything that needed doing.

"Oh, hey Douglas. Yeah, I'm fine, just, you know tending to a concussion and wishing I had some money for the pool. Next time, put me down for ten against me." He said, smiling a bit despite the stinging from his split lip. Douglas had been one of the few individuals he found he could talk to around here. Many of the others were so wrapped up in what they were doing, like Mitchell, or were just downright scary, like Rebecca.

Douglas chuckled, shaking his head, and running his hand back through his short cropped hair. "Yeah, well, don' be so 'ard yer'self mate. I think ya' may 'ave impressed Becca."

Trevor could only give the man a disbelieving stare, the effect of which was slightly diminished by the ice pack covering almost half of his face. "Yeah, I bet she's never before seen a man who actively blocks incoming attacks with his face."

Douglas laughed at this, his broad shoulders shaking. "Yer som'thin' else mate. But no, I mean it. We've all had a bout against 'er, ya' know, fer a bi' o' fun. No one envy's ya' 'avin' ta' train wit' 'er. But, even though they migh' 'ave a laugh at yer' expense, very few of 'em were able ta' get back on their own feet afterward."

Trevor just shook his head. "Eh, I doubt that. But, you trying to lift my spirits aside, what's up? I don't often see you guys just stopping by to say hi."

At the question, Douglas looked decidedly nervous, one of his hands moving to the back of his neck, and his blue eyes looked at everything in the room but Trevor, which was decidedly very little.

"Abou' that... Umm... Okay mate, 'ere's th' deal. The boss is sayin' tha' ya' need some first-'and experience. Ya' know, concernin' the sor' of things we deal with... So, I'm 'ere ta' escort ya' to meet up wit' tha' rest of the team goin' out tonigh'. Honestly, I'd rather see ya' get in some more trainin' first, but I'm not in charge o' that. So, we'll 'ead down, get ya' some gear, and meet up with tha others..."

Trevor did not like the sound of that. He was still sore, and now he was being informed that he would be accompanying a group of possibly unstable individuals as they went out to hunt for the things that go bump in the night? But then, he doubted trying to say no was a good idea. He finally sighed in resignation. "Alright... Let's just get this over with, I guess..."

Trevor was trying really, really hard to keep his cool. It was not an easy task, by any stretch of the imagination. So, they told him he'd be along for this mission. Fine. He figured he'd probably be sitting in the car, watching to see how it was done, so he didn't get in the way. You know, a take notes kind of lesson, with the hands on part just meaning he was there personally.

What he was not expecting was to be sitting at the bar in a local club, dressed in what he assumed to be appropriate attire (He'd never had much cause to go into a club in his life. How was he supposed to know?), ordering a drink and trying to look 'as much like a victim as possible'. Yeah, tonight's lesson: hands on experience could eat a dick.

Just then an electric crackle buzzed in his ear, followed by a quiet voice speaking through the receiver he wore in his ear. "You know, the scowl you're wearing isn't going to make you very approachable. Lighten up a bit." Trevor took a deep breath, wishing he could somehow reach through the small electronic device and throttle Mitchell.

The voice continued however, interrupting his pleasant thought process. "Anyways, we got one pinged at the bar, about three seats down from you. Off to your left."

Trevor turned his head, only to be interrupted. "No, no, your other left. Or, maybe my left. Sorry, I guess I got those confused." Trevor paused for a moment, trying to get to find any sort of frame of reference or context to take that in, before just giving up and turning his head the other way.

"Yeah, the brunette with the black t-shirt and necklace. Anyways, we need you to try to charm her into taking you somewhere 'more private' before we can move in."

Trevor fought the urge to facepalm. And now he wished he had taken the time to figure out just where Mitch was watching him from, so he could cast a deadpan stare in that direction. Trevor had all the charm of a brick on a good day, and they expected him to lure a female woman away from a bar. And why, because she was supposedly a vampire? This whole situation was just nuts.

He turned his attention back to the woman in question, part of him trying to think of a way to break the ice, and the rest of him wondering if he should even be doing this to begin with. It also didn't help that his face was still a bit of a mess from earlier.

His mind started to race through different scenarios. None of them seemed to fit though. That was the problem with Hollywood, things worked because they're scripted to. And the men making the approach are all at least moderately attractive. Last time he checked, he fell a bit short of that mark, landing somewhere in 'Average Joe' territory.

He hadn't realized he'd been staring the whole time he'd tried to gather his thoughts, until his eyes met the woman's and he realized he'd been caught staring. Well, not exactly staring, but he doubted that the semantics would be of much concern. Not sure what else to do, he just offered a nod, and turned his attention back to the bar, suddenly finding an interest in the wooden bar top.

"You must be new at this?" A voice from his right drew his attention back up, and he found that the woman in question was sitting right next to him, looking at him curiously. Trevor was taken aback, not sure what 'this' she was referring to him being new at. There were quite a few tonight.

"Uh, well... I... Guess..?" Trevor winced internally at that. 'Yeah, about as smooth as sand-paper...'

The woman continued to look him over. "You know, you'd almost fool most people. The clothes fit the mood, but it's obvious you've never been to a club before in your life."

Trevor suddenly wished he had spent his time at the bar actually consuming alcohol. It wouldn't keep him from making an ass of himself, but it might at least make him less likely to care. He instead offered a sheepish grin, and a somewhat apologetic shrug. "Eh, you got me. A few of my friends decided to drag me out tonight... It'd been kind of a rough day." He said, indicating his bruised face. "So, they got me dressed up, dragged me out here, and promptly went off to have a good time. I'm not even sure if they're still around, so I'll probably be calling for a cab here in a bit."

The woman continued to eye him critically, before a slight smile graced her lips. "I find that hard to believe. You don't seem to be the sort to have friends."

Trevor blinked at that. Not so much about the statement itself, but the fact that it was not a wholly inaccurate one. "Oh, ouch... Way to kick a man while he's down."

This actually caused her to chuckle, shaking her head. "Well, you were the one staring at me. You know most men would have just walked over and said something. Introduced themselves, offered to buy a drink, hell, some may have even tried a lame pick-up line."

Trevor froze for a second, trying to grasp at a reasonable excuse. It was not as easy as he had hoped. He ran a hand through his hair, working over what he was going to say. "Yeah, I kind of didn't mean to... I was just..." A gleam of light caught his eyes, and his gaze shifted swiftly to the silver necklace she was wearing. "I was looking at your necklace." He nodded at the piece of jewelry. "Well, not exactly staring at it... I mean, I saw it and the design was rather interesting. It just looked familiar for some reason, and I found myself trying to remember if I'd seen it anywhere before... Kind of got lost in my own head I guess, playing hide and seek with random bits of trivia..."

At this the woman's smile grew to a full blown grin. "You know, most guys usually have a better excuse for staring at my tits. Would you care to try again, or are you standing by your story?"

Trevor opened his mouth to say something, before realizing he really had nothing to say, so he lifted his drink to his lips, took a sip, and shrugged. "It's the best I got right now. I guess I'll have to stick with it."

He blinked slightly at a new sensation. Her hand holding his, tugging his arm lightly. The odd thing was how cool her skin felt against his. "C'mon newbie. Let's get you accustomed to the club scene. Next stop, the dance floor."

Trevor cringed at that, and while not actively pulling his hand away from hers, he wasn't exactly thrilled with the concept. She seemed to have noticed, and turned back around to look at him. "C'mon, don't you want to dance with me?" She added with a slight pout on her lips. Trevor for his part offered his apologetic chuckle.

"Well, it's not that... I just... Well, I dance in the same way that driving a car through someone's wall could be called home renovation..."

She paused for a moment, and then laughed, giving his arm a stronger tug. "C'mon. You can't be that bad..."

Roughly seven minutes later, Trevor was seated at the bar again, a bag of ice over the eye that wasn't blacked when he walked into the club. The woman from earlier sat next to him, shaking her head in disbelief. "Wow... I guess you really are that bad..."

Trevor for his part just shook his head. "Yeah, thanks for pointing that out..." He said, lifting his gaze from the floor to look at her. "Look, sorry for ruining your night... It's getting kind of late, and I'm thinking I should probably call it a night... You know, before my mere presence causes something else to go horribly wrong..."

She looked from him over to the area where the DJ had been set-up, wincing slightly. "I'm sure it's not a big deal. They should have everything fixed in a few hours, tops. Besides..." She said, leaning in close. "Your company wasn't that bad. And there's still one more thing we haven't touched on yet..." Her voice had taken a bit of a seductive tone, and Trevor found himself unsure how to respond. Tonight was definitely a night of firsts.

"Uhh.. I'm not sure I follow..." He said simply, and it wasn't exactly a lie. He was in such foreign territory that he had no idea how to react.

She rolled her teal eyes, smirking a bit at Trevor's naivety. "I'm not sure if you're jerking me around or not. I'm saying, since your day has not been going so well, how about I see what I can do to help you out with it? Maybe somewhere a bit more private?"

Trevor paused at hearing this. On the one hand, this would normally be a crowning achievement in his life. On the other hand, regardless of what she may have intended, Trevor was pretty sure that any kind of physical intimacy was not going to happen. Especially since even if she did have the intent, he had a group of people watching to make sure he did what he was supposed to do.

The more he thought about it, the more absurd the whole situation was. Could he really go through with this? I mean, from what he could tell tonight, she was just a normal woman he'd met at a club that had found his awkwardness charming? Well, charming may have been to strong a word. Endearing? Amusing? 'Crap, I'm zoning out again!'

"Uh... Yeah, sure... But, I think I'm going to hit the restroom first..." He said hastily, standing and making his way across the club to the restroom. As he did so, he found Mitchell's voice in his ear again.

"I'm not sure whether to call that a good play or not. I guess it hinges on whether or not you were acting the whole time. Either way, the whole 'pitiable person' act is working for you. Anyways, we have the team ready to move as soon as everything is set into motion."

Trevor grumbled, wishing the receiver hadn't been strictly one way as he finished his business and washed his hands. He took a deep breath, and reached into one of his pockets. Inside was a little vial of a clear liquid. Douglas had given it to him before they had left, and told him that if everything went according to plan, to drink it about three minutes before there was any 'alone time' with the target.

That time seemed to be now. He opened the top and downed the contents of the vial. It had a sickly sweet taste, and seemed to create an icy hot feeling in the pit of his stomach. They had promised that it wouldn't kill him, but now he found himself second guessing that. Maybe they did want him dead, and just had some overly elaborate way of going about it. Well, if he did die, he'd have plenty of time to worry about it then. In the meantime, he had a task to complete. He wasn't too keen on it, but he had a feeling if he failed, they'd find new and more inventive ways to 'train' him. The idea was less than appealing.

He made his way back to the bar, honestly a bit surprised to see the woman still standing there, waiting for him. She turned to look at him and smiled. "Well, it took you long enough. Come on." She said, turning to lead him from the bar. Trevor followed, but was slightly concerned. Things had started to get a little wavy and blurry at the edges of his vision.

Outside the bar, the woman led Trevor to her car. She may have been saying something, but Trevor wasn't exactly catching all of it. The icy hot feeling had changed to something much warmer, and was spreading through his body. However, it was making him rather lightheaded. He shook his head a little bit, and then noticed she had asked him a question. "Huh? I'm sorry... I guess the drinks I had are catching up with me... Not used to drinking..." She laughed.

"A lightweight, huh?" She said, opening the door for him. "That's okay. I just said that we didn't have to wait. There's not a lot of people on the streets, and I'm in the mood for something a bit... exciting."

Trevor found himself smiling like an idiot. "Well, that sounds good to me..." He said, making his way to her car, miraculously not faceplanting on the way. Upon climbing into the passenger seat, he found his lap shortly after occupied by his company for the evening. To call her eager may have been a bit of an understatement, and it caught the inexperienced young man completely off guard.

Her lips were pressed tightly against his, her tongue having found its way into his mouth, was currently claiming dominance over his, which had not been expecting such an attack. Her hands pressed against his chest, pinning him back against the seat, while his had settled on her waist, not sure exactly what to do with themselves.

It didn't take long before she was grinding her hips against his, causing him to draw in a sharp breath, as she moaned against his lips. Trevor was actually idly thinking that he may have enjoyed this, if everything wasn't getting so swirly and distorted. He broke away from the kiss, his head lolling back against the headrest of her car, his eyes staring at the ceiling in a glassy way. He barely noticed the seductive grin she gave him, or the way she started to leave a trail of kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. He wasn't even aware of her fangs as they sank into the side of his neck.

Trevor was not happy. He was currently drinking his fifth glass of orange juice, and eating a cookie. He felt, more or less, like he had just gone through a hazing ritual of some sort. And to make things worse, he wasn't entirely sure of the details. He could remember that he had gotten in her car, that things had gotten more heated than he had experienced in a while, and then he was in the van with a killer headache, feeling a bit weak, and on the way back to base with a bound and drugged woman along for the ride. He had actually freaked out a bit at this, since kidnapping was illegal on a federal level. But he wasn't in a state to do much.

As it turned out, the video surveillance of the night's activities found itself being broadcast throughout the base, and many of the people there (read as: everyone but Trevor himself) found it to be quite chuckle-worthy. Okay, that's not accurate. Two people had actually laughed until they were on the brink of passing out, and he was sure they would still be laughing about this tomorrow. However, there was some other footage that they showed him. It was taken when they had gotten to the car to pull him and the woman out. And while Trevor wanted to deny it, the fact was right there on video. She had bitten the side of his neck, and had been drinking his blood. Of course, whatever cocktail of drugs they had given him had done a doozy on her as well.

"'Ey, c'mon now, cheer up! I mean, it's not like ya' died or anythin'." Trevor turned his head to look at Douglas, who was once again leaning against the doorway to his room.

"Forgive me for being surly... I just found out that either A) People are crazier than I initially thought, or B) There are things that go bump in the night. I ended up playing the role of both a pawn and a blood donor tonight, and whatever the fuck drug that was, I don't think it's entirely flushed from my system yet... I'm tired, sore, and feeling a bit like I got blatantly lied to."

Douglas rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, when ya' say it like tha', sure it sounds bad." The larger man suddenly turned his head to Trevor, a devious smile on his lips. "But, the reason I'm 'ere is ta let ya know tha' yer gonna' wanna' good nigh's rest. Ye've got some special trainin' in the mornin'."

Trevor felt his blood run cold, a sensation that usually meant whatever was coming next had bad news written all over it. However, before he could voice any questions, Douglas had disappeared, vanishing back into the depths of the base. Having few other options, Trevor decided to get some rest. It wasn't easy. He was worried about this new training, and he also couldn't help but wonder what they had planned for the vampire from the club. That thought was actually the more troubling one.

A/N: So, yeah, there it is, a shiny new chapter. Well, I'm not sure how shiny it is. I also apologize with writing Douglas' speech. I'm trying to portray the accent, but I have very, very little experience with it. I may end up having to edit it all out at a later date if it becomes too difficult to maintain, or too hard to understand. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading it, and hopefully my next chapter will arrive in a more timely manner. But, I promise nothing.