8. Reanimated

Thanks to Amy's driving, we quickly arrived at the building Prince Viktor operated out of. To one unaware of our existence, it was just another anonymous highrise among dozens of others. We got out and the few passers-by on the street gave us a wide berth. I think it had something to do with Clarissa's blood-stained, ripped to shreds gown. But it could have been the riot gun she still held in her hands. "Better let me put that away for now," I said gently and she released it without protest. I slid it as far as it would go under the front seat.

In silence we walked through the deserted lobby to the elevator banks. Amy selected a small key from her keyring and inserted it in a slot above the ranks of lift buttons inside the elevator car. The elevator soon arrived at the penthouse level.

"You can stay here if you wish," Amy said. I nodded. As she and Clarissa headed to the penthouse door I called them back. They turned, looking at me expectantly.

"See if you can work the matter of our Tremere hell raiser into the conversation. Maybe the Prince will be willing to give us some backup." Amy nodded.
"I shall try," she didn't seem real confident. Great.

I sat down on the tiled floor and leaned against the wall, my knees drawn up to my chest and waited.

After what felt like an age, Amy and Clarissa returned. Amy said "The Prince passes along the thanks of the Ventrue Primogen." I stood up and replied, "And?..."
"And he says to congratulate you on your willingness to protect the Camarilla against its enemies." I rolled my eyes.

"What about the Tremere?"

Amy shook her head. I swore and punched the wall in frustration. My fist slammed a hole through the plaster and I felt a couple of fingers break. Which didn't help my temper one bit. I removed the hand, coated with plaster dust and looked at the way the first two fingers were bent in an unnatural fashion.

Clarissa gently took my hand and reset the bones. I winced as they snapped into place.

"Thanks." She just nodded.

"So, what now?"

Amy shrugged, frustrated. "I guess we go home and wait for Steven to contact us."
I sighed. It seemed like ever since my Embrace, it was a case of wait around for another crisis to erupt. But what else could I do? We re-entered the elevator and rode back down. As we got back in the car, I asked Amy to drop me back at the park where I had left my car. And I still needed a new shotgun.

Thankfully nobody had stripped my car while it was left alone. I quickly unlocked it and got in. I checked my watch and saw it was well after midnight. I drove back to the apartment to find that Amy wasn't back yet. Wearily I went to my small bedroom, peeled off the gouged bullet proof vest and wrinkled my nose at the smoky smell. I returned to the living room and decided to check my emails. Besides the usual spam for penis enlargements and Viagra, there was an email from Felipe - Amy must have given him my details at some point. He apologised profusely for leaving me but felt that he should return to his Sire as soon as possible. He even offered to replace the shotgun I'd busted up saving him. How sweet.

As I moved to shut off the laptop, another email landed in my inbox. This one bore the address of the Nosferatu network. Steven letting us know he'd have some hard intel tomorrow night and would see us personally. I picked up my phone and speed dialled Amy. Got her answering service. "Steven dropped me a line. Says he'll come by tomorrow with more details on the...issue." I clicked off. Checked my watch again. One AM. Dawn four and bit hours away. I got up and paced restlessly around the apartment. I picked up the TV remote and found an all news channel. The destruction of a certain Inn was the lead story. Investigators suspected arson but had no solid leads at present. No survivors had been found so far. Good news. Another report began, something about cadavers going missing from hospital morgues and funeral homes. I sat bolt upright in my seat. Fuck.

The new anchor reported that police suspected the bodies had been stolen as a prank and were asking for any information on their whereabouts.

It had to be the Tremere. He was snatching bodies to reanimate as zombies. I went online and found a link to the news story. Emailed that to the Nosferatu but if they were half as good at intelligence gathering as they claimed, they would be all over this already.

I speed dialled Amy again. Got her answering service again. "Turn on the fucking news!" I screamed down the line before clicking off.

I sat brooding until it was almost dawn then went to sleep. Could things get any worse?