Much to my relief, the remainder of Saturday night was entirely uneventful. I came back to the manse after two, futzed around for an hour and collapsed in my bed after my consumption of copious amount of alcohol. Jann's dining room bar was stock full of drinks. And I'd drank myself to sleep in horrible anticipation of Sunday's Yale fundraiser where I was supposedly supposed to set up an Anita Hyde for vampiric abduction.

My first crime.

Or an accomplice to it, at least.

My sleep was restless and tormented. But my nightmares of Gabriel and Jann were the least of my problems. I awoke a quarter after two in the afternoon, feeling miserable over the excessive amount of drinking and how achy my body felt. I reached over for my cigarettes and found a note resting atop it. I sat up, my heart racing as I reached over to read the letter. It was from Jann. So who came in here and dropped it off for me? Damn creep. It didn't matter. They snuck in here in and out at will, and I was clearly oblivious. I'd have to leave a note for Jann next time. I hadn't seen him last night, much to my chagrin, but what else could I do?

The note clarified everything I needed to know for tonight: mainly, time and place. Still, I had no phone.

As per note, I was to leave here at four thirty to get there for six, and as far as I knew, Lin was taking me. Formal attire. I lit my cigarette and moped in silence. I wished my bathrobe would come to me without my getting out of bed. It was a quarter to three, and everything was nearly over and done with. And the pervading thought in my mind was that if Gabriel was supposedly this coy and keen Toreador with not a lot of abilities to speak of (or so he claimed, this I began to wonder), then how much more fascinating would a full-blown Camarilla broad be?

It wasn't a pleasant thought.

But I'd deal with it one step at a time. I savored my morning cigarette. I'd three hours to get myself ready, so I figured I had the time to enjoy a cup of coffee before getting myself prepped. God only knew what I'd say to her tonight

I made my way downstairs, and as I leaned on the counter blowing on my coffee and pondering on last night's conversation, it suddenly occurred to me that Gabriel had mentioned his sire's name being Filipe.

And that was the name I'd found Gabriel's name under. I tried to make sense of my thoughts and memories. If I recalled correctly, Jann had Filipe's phone number.

Was that important? Why would Jann have Filipe's number? Wasn't Gabriel's past supposed to be unknown? Had Jann manipulated it out of him? But then wouldn't Filipe's name be below Gabriel's? Was it purely coincidence? But that didn't explain Jann having Filipe's number. Gabriel had to have been strong-armed for it.

This was all speculation and I shook my head before taking a sip of coffee.

Invigorating. The sun was still shining, and I didn't have to go outside to know that it was going to be a crispy October evening. And Lin was bringing me tonight? Oh boy. I was surprised she wasn't here being my tailor and makeup artist. Then again, it was only two thirty.

By three thirty, I was out of the shower and drying my hair. Who was I dressing up for? But I guess I couldn't exactly go to the fundraise without looking presentable. After all, I had to look like a rich donor of some sort. I glanced at the note again. Daughter of a doctor, name Dominick, who wasn't able to attend the night's festivities. I'd go as Charlene, with a new surname though. Fischer, was it? Did it matter?

I'd just slipped into my little black dress when I heard a knock on my door. My heart leapt into my throat, but the setting sun told me it was no vampire at my door.

"Coming," I pulled down my skirt, rather annoyed at how the length didn't reach my knees. And I didn't exactly have a thirty inch inseam, either. But it was the only black dress in the closet.

I opened my door.

It was Lin, and she was all smiles. "You look fab!"

Enough with the absurd vernacular. "Thanks," I smiled back, stepping aside to let her in. "I had a feeling you'd be here early."

"Of course!" She flitted into the room, taking a curious glance around the room before looking back at me. "This is your first big night, I wouldn't miss it! And I want to make sure you get everything right, don't take it personally. I'm sort of the designated stylist around here."

And so for the proceeding forty-five minutes, she nitpicked my hair and makeup and shoes, all the while assuring me that my little black dress was perfectly fine.

In essence, wasteful drivel about fashion and cosmetics. Not very interesting. Or edifying. At least I'd managed to convince her that there was nothing wrong with wearing my hair down and keeping my eyeliner at a minimum.

As I sat back in her little red Chevy coupe, I felt entirely out of place and awkward. I wasn't comfortable, and the anticipation of not knowing what to expect was driving me into nearly full-blown hyperventilation. But Lin kept talking, and I kept trying to keep myself distracted. At least until we drove out of the manse driveway.

"So you know what you need to do, right? What to expect and all that stuff?"

It felt erroneous driving out in the setting sun. Had it hardly been a week since this beautiful disaster began? Could time have gone by so quickly, yet have dragged on longer than it really was? Why hadn't I given thought yet to the life I seemed to be leaving behind? What would my mother and sister think? When would my father notice I wasn't home? Was this truly my fate, to carry on with this weird crew? Did I accept their immoral existence already? Lord knows I wasn't dreaming everything I'd seen. But why didn't it bother me? And what the hell was Lin talking about? "Hm?" I turned to look at her.

"Are you okay? I asked if you're familiar with these sort of functions?"

"Oh. It's just dinner with some exhibit on stage or some shit, I'm assuming? Sit and listen to them drivel on about whatever project they want money for."

"Close enough," she nodded, looking rather disappointed in not being able to brag about her knowledge in all things hoity toity. "You won't have to mingle, though. Unless Anita mingles, then it might be a good idea to keep an eye on her. But as far as Jann said, you'll probably keep her attention for whatever reason."

Test the waters: "Did he ever say why I'd hold her attention? I'm kind of at a loss there."

She shook her head. "Not really, but I'm thinking it has something to with Shand. He bit you, right? I see your scab, it's almost gone, but a kindred would notice every little thing. If she asks you about it, what are you supposed to say?"

I internally sighed, annoyed at the schooling. But I responded in kind, and she generally approved, but always putting in her two cents and minor opinionated 'suggestions' along the way. I did learn, however, that I would be observed by a few of our group's members. Alec was to be one of them. Was she really that dangerous? Or was that normal? Did it have something to do with the clan strengths as opposed to the absence thereof in the Caitiff? I hadn't seen the others in action, but Gabriel was impressive all by himself. Were the clanless less impressive, is that why I'd never seen them utilize their abilities?

"Are you okay?"

I turned to Lin, smiling and shaking my head. "No, sorry, I mean, yes, I'm okay. I just have a lot of questions."

"I know," she nodded knowingly, a smile creeping onto her lips. The kind of smile that meant she was about to pat herself on the back again. "It's confusing in the beginning, but you get familiar with all the new terms and everything after a while. Took me a couple of months, and I am rather the curious type. I think you are, too. So you'll catch on quickly. And you'll feel great. I never felt more alive, I actually feel... what's the word, significant? Like, I finally have a purpose in life. I have real goals, and there aren't any downsides. Kind of amazing, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I agreed half-heartedly. Because I knew damn well it was all a lie. These vampires, or kindred, as they liked to call themselves, were too self-absorbed to give a damn about anybody but their own singular self. Whether they were ex-establishment, anti-establishment, or the so-called bad guys, they only participated out of necessity for the sake of competition and survival. It's the penultimate basic rule that society degenerated to: survival of the fittest. But what would Darwin have to say about conditional immortals? What happened to the ego then? Incurable megalomania?

"You sure you're okay for tonight?"

Lin interrupted my thoughts, as usual – or maybe I was just musing too much today in lieu of the task I had tonight. Well, at least I'd have some real food tonight. Slightly processed, but a treat nonetheless. "Yes, I'm just a little overwhelmed right now. I'll be okay, I'm just falling into introspection at the moment. But I can do what I have to do, don't worry. You'll be watching, too?"

"I'll be in the area. I'm kind of the designated chauffeur around here for Alec, so whatever job he has, I'm on site when need be. So I'll be around," she smiled. "Not exactly watching, I don't have those kind of heightened senses yet, but one day..." She trailed off, and I knew it was intentional.

And I wasn't going to cater to her ego-stroking. I'm sure she'd make a hell of a vamp, in all sarcasm. "I just want to be sure I won't be left stranded, that's all. I admit, I'm not a hundred percent sure how risky this mission is, let alone how important it is, because at this point, I could give two shits about what Jann does to help himself, but I'm not really ready to throw myself to the wolves for some unattainable objective." Eat that, Lin. Her pretentiousness was starting to get under my skin and I couldn't help myself but throw it right back at her.

"Oh, it's very important. They've been trailing her for a couple weeks now. We have her dossier and the list of all her crimes against us and she really needs to be taken care of."

"They're going to kill her?"

She leaned forward, smirking a little. "I think so, and wouldn't that be something. I guarantee you that a lot of things are going to change once that happens. We're Anarchs, sure, but if one of us is guilty of killing a Cammie, especially one that's this popular? Well, I think we'll be seeing – or running away from – some Cammies, for sure. That'll be exciting!"

Personally, I didn't think she sounded very sincere about it being exciting, but I let it slide, giving her the obligatory facial reactions of wonder and amusement instead. Yeah, I'm a phony when I want to be, what of it? "Sure will be, especially since I'll be totally clueless!"

"Aw, whatever questions you have, I can answer them – or one of us can, Alec is pretty relatable and down-to-earth."

And a frisky licentious S.O.B., but I let that be, too. "Thanks, good to know."

"Here we are," she exclaimed, inhaling dramatically and turning the wheel.

I immediately began memorizing my surroundings, but wondered how useful a planogram of the locale would be should a 'kindred' be after you. We pulled into a driveway advertising the Billingsby Manor. "I'm just dropping you off, but I won't be far. You ready?"

I took a deep breath and respired slowly and steadily. "Nothing I can do for it now, yeah? I'll be okay, don't worry about me. Well, I'm sure you'll know how I'm doing anyway."

There wasn't anything amusing about that statement, but she giggled nonetheless. I couldn't help but think that there was something sinister about her laughter, some negativity or whatnot. But I ignored it. The entrance was coming into view, and it was ready to begin. The sun was nearly flush with the horizon, so I had perhaps half an hour to situate myself before this nighttime fiend made her appearance. I quickly imagined her not even showing up and saving me from a moment of failure, but I knew such was not likely. Luck had a way of working against me. Strongly.

Awkward and forcefully subtle, I stepped out of her Chevy, not like the Beamers and Benzes that surrounded us, and made myself as dignified and pretentiously unapproachable as possible. Of course I felt neither. The valet driver waver her off, and she waved to me. I waved back to her once, then focused on the door to this ridiculously expensive affair.

Fundraiser for the art department indeed.

The first thing I noticed was that it seemed the guests here were more interested in catching up with old connections than donating their half-heartedly earned money for some university department. The real question was, what was in it for them?

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure some people were genuinely interested in expanding the art department's budget or equipment, whatever its case was at the moment, but for the most part, socializing was imperative, and looking interested was secondary. I entertained the representatives of the dinner party, musing over the fact that since I was hardly uninterested, nay, immensely disliking this so-called mission, I felt I played it much cooler than I would've if I actually cared. But I didn't care, and by the time I managed to wriggle my way to my designated dinner table, it was already half past six and phonies were bidding their insincere excuses at me as they searched for their own tables.

I looked down into my purse, digging for my cigarettes and bracing myself for a horrible trip back outside where I could smoke a cigarette in obscurity. Maybe I could sneak out while the opening speaker rambled on. Fuck being rude, I was beyond irritated already.

The drinks were served while the uni reps droned on with their thank you's and dull explanations that would eventually lead into a plea for the almighty dollar. I took a quick sip of my beer in a glass and high-tailed it out of the ballroom. Parties and dinner parties in behalf of Yale? Sure, why not.

The sun had gone down by now as I approached the foyer and all its floor-to-ceiling windows. And I'd yet to spot Anita anywhere.

I made my way outside quickly and almost wished that I could find some reassurance in the supposed fact that I was being watched. Was this so important? Lin did mention that this would put them all into the spotlight. Was that such a good thing? I furrowed my brows in contemplation as I stood off to the side of the entrance, watching my smoke curl and fade into the parking lot breeze. I couldn't imagine Jann being so dumb as to try and assassinate a Camarillan – whatever significant role she played, I wasn't sure, but it seemed like a dumb and crude move to me. Kidnap her? Using a human, nonetheless? Perhaps that were her weakness, but how would I know? I touched the scabs on my neck. They hadn't fully healed, but the marks were much smaller. In a day or two, there would be nothing left to show for Shand's atrocious behavior, save a negligible scar that could be dismissed with a glance.

Like this, I puffed away in silence, ignoring the latecomers that were more interesting in trying not to be late. Fortunately, these stragglers ignored me.

As luck would have it, a big white Cadillac SUV pulled up suddenly, tires on the verge of squealing. And the moment she stepped out of the driver's seat, I could tell she was to be the object of my attention for tonight. Not that I was getting paid for it, but in a way, with the beer getting through my empty stomach to my head, my apprehension assured my rent. Or a probable decomposition in the woods, if I failed to woo her tonight.

She was tall, undeniably feminine and pristine, and stunning, as even the valet had a hard time taking his eyes off her perfectly formed and curvy figure. Naturally endowed in the chest, narrow in the middle, and sculpted on the bottom. So this was a full-blown Toreador? Now the superficiality made sense. I inhaled on my cigarette and watched her command the valet of her orders for her vehicle, then stalk around her truck in her four inch stilettos and thigh-high skirt, black duster acting as a coverup over her sensuous curves and long legs.

I looked away quickly, reviewing the tasks for tonight. A, make sure she notices my scabs. B, make sure I have her undivided attention. C, bear in mind at all times her abilities, namely this presence and auspex thing. D, walls up at all times. E, be deviant enough to convince her to want to be alone with me. Easy with the words, but not so easy on the execution. This I realized now. This could end in disaster. She was approaching the entrance, her eyes swiftly scanning the surroundings. They were sweeping this way.

Fortunately, I'd turned my face away in time. And in such a way that my neck openly advertised the scabs on my throat. Somewhere near my jugular, as far as I could recall. I'd intentionally lowered the scarf around my neck for the crisp evening air.

It caught the attention of Anita.

And it was exactly then that I realized how truly attentive a Toreador was.

It wasn't a comforting thought.

"Now what have we here?"

I quickly looked up at her, hoping my surprise came off as more curious than alarmed. "You are?"

"I am Anita, and you are..?"

"Charlene," I said flatly, noting that she had yet to give a friendly smile. Or stray from anything other than an unreadable expression. So if she gave no response, then I would return the favor. Wall. Don't forget the wall. Hopefully, it was working.

"Charlene," she repeated, then looked at me up and down. "Who fancied you? And no need to play a fool, I know precisely what I'm looking at."

Then let the games begin. I took a languid drag from my cigarette before deigning to answer her. Truth was, it was giving me time to form my words in just the right way. "Some scumbag I met the other night. I suppose I ought to know what you're looking at?"

Her eyes deadened more, if such a thing were possible. "This is precisely what I'm talking about. Entertain me. Names? Faces?"

"Hm," I contemplated the overhand above us. "I think he said his name was Frank. A real creep. And there's something definitely wrong with his head. A little touched, if you know what I mean." Boy was she good at hiding her emotions. Actress.

"I'm no fool, unlike you, Charlene. How long have you been seeing him?"

"You want to play that way?" I raised an eyebrow, studying her lack of a reaction.

"I do," she pursed her lips, tilting her head, a small sparkle glistening in her green eyes. "Let's play."

"Fine. A couple of weeks, I don't really remember. He... well, I take it you know what he was. Yes, I know he's dead. But I don't know who did it. I drove by his place after he didn't return my calls and so I—"

"What number did you call?"

I left my mind blank. Two could tango. I rolled off Brooke's Connecticut cell phone number. And I saw the smallest flash of anger and suspicion shimmer across her eyes. Good. Let's make her assume he had a secret cell phone. So much for his being her loyal minion.

She nodded. "Go on."

I shrugged. "Nothing else to go on about. That was that. And yes, he's the one that bit me. It's finally going away."

She licked her lips and gazed steadily at me for a few uncomfortable seconds. And then her stoicism disintegrated into the vixen that she was. She smiled, glancing at my cigarette. "That's well. I knew Frank, forgive me for being so curious. He was horribly murdered, though the police reports say his COD was smoke suffocation. I know more, but I'll leave it at that. I would not disturb our evening with tragic but irreversible matters."

This sudden change of attitude was disturbing. And it made me most wary. I imagined myself hedged inside an igloo made of boulders to protect myself from her threatening demeanor. "It's fine, I'm over it. Like I said, he was a weirdo. Creeped me out."

"As he should. Almost done with your cigarette? I would have you take my arm when we go inside. You are here for the fundraiser?"

Strange request, but as an afterthought, a good sign. "Is there something else happening here tonight?"

She smiled at me again. How many had fallen for those lips? I looked away, physically having to pull my eyes to focus on something else. It wasn't polite to stare.

I took one last drag and tossed my smoke to the curb.

She watched the butt spark on the asphalt before looking back at me, her elbow already raised for me.

What sort of statement was this?

"I sense hesitation, Charlene," she exclaimed, frowning. "You've been hurt before, and now you're curious. Come with me."

I held her gaze. Hurt by who, how would she know? I kept my voice down inside my head and slipped my hand into the crook of her elbow. What was it with vamps wanting to lead humans around by their elbows?

She strode smoothly into the foyer, and surprisingly, I kept pace with her. She didn't turn her head as she said, "You will be at my table, hm?"

How could she know? Was this a bluff, or did she really know? Had she done some research? Of course she had to have, it'd be precarious not to be cautious. But most importantly, I couldn't let on that I knew her from the lady next door. "Am I? I'm at table sixteen, are you?"

"Of course."

She was greeted by everyone that passed. And I was mortified. Fortunately, everyone was too enthralled by her appearance to take much notice of me, this peon that was attached to her arm. But I felt the glances, the curiosity of being her companion, maybe even some pity, but that last part could have just been in my head. We entered the ballroom where they were still quite actively droning on about accolades and aspirations.

More acknowledgements by the dinner guests before we finally sat down at our table. Then the obligatory hushed table greetings.

How I loathed these sorts of affairs. They were truly as droll and showy as portrayed by Hollywood. I sipped on my wine and listened with half a mind. It was all about money. And on the other hand, it bothered me the amount of people that knew her around here. Acquaintances meant observers, and observers meant witnesses. Anita was some figure on the Yale board for the arts department, and her acquisition would be highly investigated. This I had no doubt. Too many admirers.

What a dumb idea by these Anarchists to try and snuff such a prominent figure.

Applause. It jolted me out of my musing and I clapped along with everyone for a good thirty seconds. How dumb. I glanced at Anita and stiffened on the spot when I saw she clapped, but stared at me.

The clapping faded away, and she leaned forward as the speaker began the obligatory 'let's get the party started' epilogue. "What were you thinking about? You seem to be working something out in your head all this time."

Could she read my mind? Or was it strictly her observation? Her face hardly a foot away from mine, I could get lost in those green orbs that kept their attention on me. I had to kick myself into auditory focus and comprehension so I could respond. "I'm trying to grasp your significance in... that realm."

"Are you now?" She smiled, applauding with the rest of the room. "I do believe we need to become better acquainted."