Thirty blocks away from the hotel...
The heavy double-doors swung back, spilling dim light into the muted study. Cronin strode in, folio held jauntily under his left arm. Dusky ruby light glowed meekly from the line of crimson candles which flickered about the long room. The Persian rug was rich and old, the walls polished mahogany, marble pillars rising up in each corner to support the tapered ceiling. A long oaken table stretched away from him and he walked down the length of it to stop at the end, where the chamber's only chair sat, tall-backed and hulking, casting it's occupant into a being composed of curving black shadows.
"Did you get it?" she asked.
"But of course."
He unzipped the folio and extracted the painting, righted it and set it gingerly on a waiting stand. He ran a hand down the length of it's gilded frame and grinned triumphantly, "Isn't it the quintessential image of melancholy? I like it."
She made no reply.
"Picasso painted it during his transition toward abstract, and you can see it in the shape of the eyes, how his move into cubism is immanent. Utterly breathtaking and beyond priceless in my mind." he moved back and picked up a crystal vial from the table, "Oh well..." and he splashed the treated acid across the canvas.
The paint hissed and bubbled, greasy smoke rose in a rush, and the subdued image of Fernande Olivier warped then vanished, revealing what lay beneath the portrait. Cronin leaned forward and waved the smoke away, then admired the glistening rows of Eldritch runes. There was twelve of the intricately-etched symbols in all, all arranged about the yellowing canvas, eleven of them orbiting a twelfth, itself five times their size and set into the center. Cronin's eyes danced across them hungrily, "You were correct, they're here. They're here!"
"Of course they are." she spoke at last, menace dripping from her stern tones, "You doubted me?"
The powerful vampire winced and shrunk back, looked to her beseechingly, "Never. Not even for a moment, mistress. Forgive me. But why did Picasso hide something so priceless underneath what was to him, a minor portrait of the woman he was sleeping with?"
"He did so because he didn't know they were there. According to research it's taken me fourteen years to complete, the runes were hidden by a glamour when he received the canvas. But my revealing mixture canceled it out, along with the paint."
"Brilliant." Cronin's eyes shone, he longed to try them out. Especially the large one. Yes, the thought railed inside his fevered psyche, all the world will suffer my will when THAT one is mine!
He looked back to her, "How long will it take to cast the brands?"
She flung out her left hand and spoke something in Latin. There was a technicolor flash then blue fire shot from her finger tips and into the naked canvas. The runes twisted and convulsed, energy crawled across them. Cronin gasped and hopped back a step as the painting erupted into blazing blue flame, then vanished into nothingness. With a series of echoing clangs, twelve foot-long branding irons crashed to the floor, the final one's base five-times the size of the rest.
"Not that long, actually."
Cronin stared in jubilant amazement, "Blessed be the Night..." and he reached for the largest.
"Don't even THINK about touching that one." she snapped and he pulled back his hand.
"Remember our agreement."
"Yes... Yes, of course."
"Gather them up. All of them." she commanded, as she reached for a quill pen and a bottle of ink, "Then summon the five you brought with you to museum. We will task the veracity of the brands upon them, as a reward."
Cronin scratched his snow-white goatee nervously, "Um, actually..."
She paused, "Actually...what?"
"I, uh, lost the five you sent with me. I meant to tell you."
"Lost? Lost... And how, Cronin, does one go about losing five powerful vampires of the the Clan Oranak, prey tell?"
"At the Guggenheim, three of the visitors fought us. One was a Slayer. And another was at least part-demon. They were good. Not good enough to stop me, of course, but-"
"A Slayer? What did she look like?"
"Long dark hair, slim build but athletic. She fought like a berserker. I heard a name, it was-"
"-Faith. Yes, I know of her."
"You do?" he was impressed, "Also, there was a man with an eye-patch."
"Was there? Well then, we can't let such a slight against the Clan go unanswered, can we?"
He swallowed, "No. Of course we can't."
"I'm glad you concur, otherwise I would have killed you. Now, summon all the disciples from the excavation and we'll give some of our new Glyphs a try. You remember this Slayer's scent, of course?"
"Of course."
"Good..."
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The bathroom of Suite 907 of the Amsterdam Court Hotel...
She did not see, she only felt.
Ariel felt the near-scalding liquid cascade down upon her upturned face and breasts from the over-powered shower head. She felt the clouds of rising steam prickle down her shoulder-blades and dimpled buttocks. She felt the slimy wall tiles under her splayed fingers and pruned palms. She felt the sea-shell decals under her grinding toes on the surface of the shower stall. This was on the outside.
On the inside she felt only emptiness. She felt hollow. She felt dead.
Dying, her mind moaned, I'm dying... Mother was right, I'm a sick creature she would have aborted if only she'd known in time...
...Mother...
For an instant, just a very weak instant, she wished the woman was actually there, present to help her through this, to lend guidance, even a kind word or gentle caress to the cheek.
Who am I kidding, Ariel hung her head and slumped against the wall, Mother never did anything of those things. But if it's a swift slap to the knuckles you needed, then Mother was your Girl Friday with a yard stick. And Girl Saturday, Sunday, hell all eight days of the week...
"Didn't do you any good, now did it?" her conscience channeled through panting lips, "You can't even Siphon properly anymore, you're losing it. You nearly killed that poor Police Officer last week and haven't siphoned since."
She turned away and slid to the floor, letting the spray fly free to drum a steady rattle against the glass doors. Her head drooped between her knees and she drank in the spiraling steam.
...and now it's nearly all gone, the last of your power, you silly twit of a girl! The voice of her Mother tugged at phantom eardrums. That's right, the voice she feared the most declared acidly, you perversion of purity, what should have lasted you more then a month was discharged against the side of a museum in a single, desperate moment that could have been entirely avoided if you hadn't been wasting your time with that pandering one-eyed boy-child and his hag-trollop of a Slayer.
"But they're my friends!" she sputtered into the spraying water.
Friends? Tish-tosh, that's rubbish and you know it. If they were really your friends then you wouldn't have lied to them, wouldn't have pretended you didn't know what a Slayer was.
"Shut up." she whispered meekly to the drain beneath her.
You silly girl, you're a demon and that means you have no friends. If you can't have the good manners to do the world a favor and slit those pale wrists, then you should be living in a sewer drinking the fetid desires of rutting cats or dogs in heat. A menace like you-
"No! I'm not like that! I-I can control it! I just skim a bit here and there from over-sexed college boys and boring yuppies. They won't miss it and they're left with pleasant memories-"
NO! IT'S ALL LIES! screamed her mother inside her head, and Ariel's fingers spasmed in agony and she whimpered, pressed to the tile.
YOU ARE AN ABOMINATION, GIRL, AND I WILL FIND YOU! THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE YOUR PRISON AND HIDE IN THAT CESSPOOL OF A CITY? NOT FOR LONG, NOT FOR LONG! I WILL FIND YOU, AND THEN-
Bang! Bang-Bang! came a fist on the locked bathroom door, "Hey, you about finished in there? It's been like an hour, you know."
Xander's voice ripped her back to scalding reality and Ariel blinked in the foggy darkness, then reached up and slapped the shower off.
"...uh, sorry! I-I kind of lost track of the time. Sorry!"
"No problem. It's just that I need to-"
"Just a minute, sorry again!" she got to her feet and slid the glass door back, stepped gingerly free and fumbled about.
Xander was fidgeting outside of the door and looked up in surprise as Ariel pulled it open and stepped past him, belting a complimentary terry cloth robe shut around her as she went, "All yours."
He watched the drowned blonde zip into her room and slam the door, then he caught up the latest issue of Cinescape Magazine and crossed the threshold. Humph, no matter where I end up hanging my hat, I always end up outnumbered by the women-folk and waiting forever for a bathroom pass. Why is that? Heh, I must of knocked off the Sphinx's nose in a past life or something...
He shut the door. When he opened it fifteen minutes later, Faith and Ariel stood waiting in the living room. His eye bugged at their appearance, "Guhhh... Did I take a wrong turn and end up in Heaven?"
Faith rolled her eyes and Ariel chuckled, "We've talked and decided we're going clubbing. You coming?"
He grinned madly, "Wild Trolls couldn't drag me from your side. Let's go!"
Faith held up a hand as he made to charge for the door, "Would ya change first, though? You stink of dusted vamp, and those clothes..."
He was taken aback, "I am the epitome of Men's fashions, I'll have you know."
"You're wearing torn jeans and a NASCAR t-shirt."
"And your point?"
Outside the ninth-story window, a dark shape wavered up and down. A single orange-red eye watched them unseen, flickering like dying embers...
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Two hours and three clubs later...
"Ugh, I just want to go home and watch Smallville, this just isn't fun anymore." moaned Xander, as Faith and Ariel dragged him out of a cab, "What makes you think this one will be any better then the others? And what actually was wrong with the first three?"
"Everything." giggled Ariel as she smoothed down her black cocktail dress. The cab driver's hanging jaw twitched as he stared at her.
Faith leaned in the window and smacked him on the shoulder, "Hey! You want your money or what?"
"Muh..."
She tossed a twenty at him in annoyance then turned away, "Bozo. What am I, androgynous?"
"Anything but, babe." said a passing guy in a silk tuxedo shirt and tight pants. Faith gave his Olympian-physique a once-over then smiled a greeting, ran her palms down the hips of her crimson thigh-length tube dress.
"Yeah? You like?"
"In so many ways." he stepped closer and nodded toward the doors of Club Odessa, where a line of hopefuls was already stretching around the block, "I know the bouncer. Lose Captain Jack Sparrow here and I'll get us in. You up?"
"Jack Sparrow?" Xander scowled with his one eye.
Faith dug an elbow in Xander's ribs then reached for the guy's arm, "Sure, I'd love to-" Ariel stepped out from behind Xander, showing herself to the stranger for the first time, "Could you get us in too?"
The guy's eyes nearly fell out of his head, "Muh... Who are...who are..." he pushed Faith out of the way and stepped toward her, "Hi. My names Todd."
"Hi, Todd." grinned Ariel, "I'm-" Faith reached up and caught the guy by the back of the neck, then spun and tossed him backwards. He flopped up, then crashed down on the hood of the still-present cab. She glared at Ariel for a moment, then stalked off toward the bouncer.
Xander sighed, "Fifth time this evening you've blocked her play, heh." he smiled at the blushing blonde, "Did I mention how much I'm loving this?"
"Like every time." Ariel replied sullenly, "I don't know whats wrong with me tonight, I just can't seem to control it, maybe it was the fight today. My header into the snow bank screwed up my aura or what have you. Humph, I wish Faith'd understand. It's just comes with being half-Succubus. It's not like I can just turn it off, especially right now-" she clammed up fast.
He raised an eye-brow, "Right now? What do you... uh, did you say Succubus?"
Ariel suddenly seemed nervous, "Um...I thought, um, she would have told you."
Faith's words of a week ago suddenly echoed through Xander's mind: Her powers, they come from sucking a bus. Or something like that...
"Ohhhhh. Sucking a bus."
"Huh? Look, are you okay with this?"
He thought for a long moment, then shrugged and linked elbows with her, grinned, "Am I okay with you being a kind of part-human demon? Heh! Let me tell you about my former fiance..." and he lead her off towards the door.
"I'm tellin you, lady, no more are getting in for at least another hour." said the annoyed and very large bouncer.
Faith dug in her cleavage and pulled out a hundred, waved it under his nose, "How 'bout now?"
Xander reached her side and glared at the c-note, "Okay, where exactly are you getting all the dough lately? Last week you were begging me for MacDonald's money, and now you're tossing hundreds around like gum wrappers."
She stuffed it back in her 'wallet' but didn't look back at him, just glared up at the towering man blocking the door, "I won big on scratch tickets."
"Look, we don't have to go here." said Ariel, "It's the hottest club in town, so it's no wonder we can't get in."
The bouncer looked toward her and his eyes widened. He unhooked the velvet rope and pushed open the door, "You're in. Enjoy Club Odessa."
Faith balled her fists and looked about to erupt. Ariel ducked her head and dragged Xander forward, "Sorry." she whispered to the Slayer.
"Yeah, right. Like I believe THAT crap."
Ariel hesitated, then looked back, her face suddenly angry, "Hey, it's not my fault. Maybe it's your make-up."
"Oh boy..." moaned Xander.
Faith leaned in close to her, eyes glinting nastily, "You SO don't wanna go there, girl."
Ariel smiled seductively, "Oh, I'm already there, GIRL."
"You wanna go? Then we gonna go! That's all I'm sayin."
"Let's go then."
"Bring it."
"It's brung!"
"Look, girls, don't fight okay, it's not-" Xander tried to referee, but Ariel pulled him roughly away and into the club, glaring back over her shoulder at her new rival as she went, "See you inside, rookie." they disappeared up a tall set of stairs, music pounding down at them from the second-story dance bar.
Rookie? Faith raged internally, Rookie! She SO did not just call me a rookie! Faith watched Ariel and Xander disappear into the pounding darkness. Oh somethings gonna get broken now, guaranteed, she ground her teeth.
Then she squared her shoulders and hips, and followed, her body swaying in the most provocative swagger she could muster. The bouncer shut the door behind them, ignoring the angry cries coming from the long line of people still waiting to get in. On the hood of the cab, Todd sat up groggily, "Uhhh, where...where'd that blonde go?"
"Into the club." replied the still enraptured cabbie.
Across the street, three black-clad forms stepped from the shadows of an alley. Cronin adjusted his red silk tie then rubbed his left shoulder absently, "Perfect. In there we can separate them. After that, taking them out should be child's play. Let's go." he waved at the rest to wait, then his trio proceeded.
Behind them, a line of yellow-glowing eyes watched them vanish into the club...
End of Part II...
