I sensed eyes upon us as we walked through Santa Monica, some curious, some malicious, some the sparkling gazes of fey and others the lurking looks of sewer frogs. We walked briskly, a pace set by Kent who had returned late in the evening or was it early in the morning, smelling of bleach, guilt and blood. He had immediately dug an elbow into me and pushed me into an awkward angle so that he could once again spread himself out across the bed.
I had to hope for a return to Downtown tonight; to more pleasant quarters I had to hope. We were nearing the diner, though we were half an hour early. Kent had suggested an early evening hunt whilst Romero waited in the diner and acted human. Kent had suggested that maybe the darling grave Ghoul might like to just sit in the diner, Romero had merely rolled his eyes, murmured about needing coffee and then entered the small building.
Kent had started to lead the way on, towards a hobo blessed with madness and murmuring of the end of days. He sounded so miserable I could not resist sending a touch of Hysteria his way. Before Kent could scold something else caught my interest, a scent in the air. Familiar, hostile, nervous and recent. Curious, I headed after it, ignoring Kent's protests. There was fire in the air, gasoline and rust. I paused for a moment to look up at a murdered car stuck on a spike in warning to others.
"Malk what are you doing?" Kent demanded moodily. "I'm thirsty, let's find some Kine already."
I stepped close to the wire fence and eyed the 'No trespassing' sign curiously. "But why sign?" I queried curiously. "What do you guard other than dead cars? Do you hide the evidence of metal murder?" I sniffed the air. "I smell dog," I mused. When the sign refused to answer me I broke the flimsy lock and pushed open the gate.
"Why the Hell would you want to feed on a dog?" Kent demanded in disgust as he followed after me. "That's revolting."
I stepped up to the small shack that guarded the scrap yard and found the door locked. It was easily broken and I stepped into the building with ease and flicked on the light. There were dust bunny families, stale coffee, one lone doughnut in an old box, a desk littered with clipboards, wrappers, tin cans and letters, and a few holes indicating the hideaways of mice or dwarves. I headed to the door at the back of the building and unlocked it.
"Why are we breaking and entering a scrap yard?" Kent pondered. "Can you even hear me or are you in one of your fantasies? Maybe you're just ignoring me," he grumbled.
I ignored him and led the way out to a pen of whimpering dogs. "Aww cute puppies!" I cried out as I clapped my hands and leaned towards them. There was a Doberman, a German Shepherd and whining in a kennel a Rottweiler. "Poor little hounds are scared, the clawed beast has them all a quiver," I sympathised.
"What are you babbling about?" Kent demanded as he stepped up beside me and eyed the dogs with disgust.
I looked up at him hopefully and wondered aloud, "can one make a vampire dog?"
"No and don't even try it," came Kent's cruelly quick retort. "Look what are we doing here? There are no Kine-" He turned in a blur and I watched as he rushed forward, colliding with something. There was a cry and I watched as a form was thrown back by the Toreador to crash ungracefully and loudly against a barrel. The dogs whined and yelped in terror before fleeing to their kennels.
I stepped forward as Kent's assailant stood up with a scowl. Mr. Popular in high school, captain of the football squad, everyone loved him, I hoped for just a sliver of that popularity at school. Smart too, followed the path of education that mum and dad wanted unlike the art student. Studied hard, more interested in wrestling and football, couldn't let the folks down though. He became a vet, married- I shook my head and clawed at it hard with my nails. Wretched Sarah I would pull her out!
"Back off vampire. Stay the fuck back!" the man shouted. "I did nothing to you!" Questions for Kent, had to be for Kent. I clawed and clawed, felt my hair get wet, oh well, needed a shower, keep digging she can't stay buried in my skull forever!
"You just jumped me," Kent pointed out sardonically.
"Maybe a surprise hug," I suggested with a snicker.
I felt Kent's eyes on me and suddenly he was by my side wrenching my hands down. "What the fuck are you doing?" he snapped at me. "Shit you're bleeding, stupid Malk!" He sighed and clenched my hands tightly in his. He blocked my vision of our companion and hopefully his of me. No recognition, please no, no more memories, no more of this lunacy. I preferred my lunacy, Sarah's was too painful.
"Turned the pier bloody, then went after muddy," I rhymed.
"How do you know that?" he demanded.
Kent sighed and turned from me to face the man. "She's not right in the head, don't mind. Look who are you and why did you jump me?"
"Defensive," I murmured, "the beast is nervous, done many things, bad things, makes the masks fall down."
"Masks?" Kent echoed as he shot me a curious look. "Masquerade?" he wondered as he turned back to the stranger.
"You wouldn't care or understand," the man snapped sullenly. "You've just come here to pass judgement, haven't you?"
"No, as I think we've established, I don't even know who you are," Kent retorted dryly.
He stepped from me at last granting me another vision of the man. Tall and toned with the same bright, blue-grey eyes and soft, auburn hair. He was paler now, his hair a little wilder and his clothes were tattered and filthy, a formerly white vest top, ill-fitted jeans, scuffed shoes and black straps about his wrists and arms and black, fingerless, leather gloves. He looked at me and his eyes widened, a gasp escaped him and he shook his head. "No," he snapped a protest. "This is a trick! Some mind games!" He glowered at Kent and I.
"You don't smell like a Malkavian," Kent mused, "yet you certainly rant like one. No, you smell of..." He frowned. "Gangrel."
"Stinky wolf, sliced and diced with his claws, made them scream and bleed," I murmured. I sighed and the Sarah within me willed me to say, "a creature of the night then Rob, just like me, but why? When?"
He bristled at the mentioning of his name and Kent gave me an accusing stare. "Do you know everyone in Santa Monica?" he demanded. "Fuck how is coming here not a violation for you? Well shit it probably is, the amount of run-ins and risks," he grumbled, "Sebastian's probably waiting to stake you when we get back. Suppose his highness doesn't know you're from here, God forbid he would learn anything about his lowly subjects."
I flinched and smiled at the Toreador. "I don't know everyone," I protested, "just some around here; this bit is a small area."
"Then...you really are her?" the Gangrel demanded in disbelief. "My...my little sister is a vampire."
"Fuck." One could always trust an articulate and expressive Toreador to find the perfect words for a situation.
Sarah treated me to a rush of images of the Gangrel back when he was Kine and known better as Robert Grey, rather than the slasher of the southern lands. Her older sibling, her only sibling, senior by four years, he had been a good brother, always helping her with homework, giving her lifts, beating up the student who tried to molest her on a date, yes a good brother. He had married his high school girlfriend, knocked her up, gone to college and graduated when Sarah was in first year, then gone on to join a veterinary practice. Sarah was an aunt; no Sarah had been an aunt. All dead now, not like us though, truly bones and dust now.
"What happened?" I wondered as I looked at him sorrowfully.
His eyes widened and shone as tears filled them. "My whole family dead, my life gone," he retorted hatefully. "They wanted to steal from my house...it went wrong, somehow it went wrong and they killed them, Celia and Mikey, somehow those fucks botched it up and murdered them! And not one of them paid, not enough evidence," he sneered, "not enough to condemn them, so what could I do? I had to make them suffer. Revenge. Justice. Whatever you want to call it. Once I found the means, the strength, all I thought about was taking those evil animals, ripping them to shreds and licking their blood from my claws."
Sarah shook, I shook, a crime of theft turned to murder, the criminals flew free, Rob found a Kindred or they found him and then the beast of vengeance was born. "The carnival bloodied, then the warehouse in Downtown, the Anarchs would've seen surely, always witnesses round there and the hotel of luck, luck for you but none for the filthy man."
"All those murders," Kent realised the truth, "that was you?"
"Yes," Rob answered proudly. "At least I put it to use!" he snapped defensively. "How many vampires have used their ability for a just cause?" He shook his head and directed his gaze back on me, still disbelieving that it was me. Was it though? I wondered. "When did you get turned Sarah?" he queried. "Did you know? Did you hear about the deaths?"
"Gone," I murmured, "gone before, bitten many times by poets and madmen. Sarah knew not of the demises. Then you are younger, yes? Older brother but younger Kindred? What snarling creature thought to gift you claws?"
He shrugged, uneasy at my words. "I don't know, he found me drunk and about to kill myself, I guess he considered finishing the job but then changed his mind. He decided to turn me instead, said it would give me a new purpose. He tried to teach me but I didn't care to learn about the Camarilla and shit, all I wanted was to see those murderous assholes pay!" So angry, snarling more than Rob ever had. So perhaps Sarah was not solely cursed in the transformation of flesh and mind?
"Now what?" I wondered.
"The Camarilla that's what," Kent said darkly. "Your murdering spree has been all over the news, the Kine are suspicious and the Camarilla are angry, personally I say to hell with them and their rules, but you're young, you don't get it. You can't survive for too long on your own."
"I've survived so far," he retorted angrily.
"Yes but once they get your scent; so to speak, they will come in numbers. You need sense and allies now."
"The Baron?" I suggested. "Perhaps safety with the stars." I wanted to help him, how could I not? He was suffering so much, his pain agonised me and I knew I could not see him destroyed by the masked men.
"Perhaps," Kent murmured, "since he's your brother I'm sure Isaac will be only too happy to accommodate him. It's risky though," he looked to Rob, "no offence but you'll be risky anywhere. They'll connect the dots soon enough and find a picture of you has formed, I hate to say it but they are clever."
Praise for the Camarilla? How un-Anarch like.
"Well if I'm better on my own fine," he muttered, "finding allies was your idea."
Kent frowned. "Now, I didn't mean it like that, it's just going to take some persuasion that's all. You're strong though, obviously, generally good at hiding, or so I assume, a good hunter and sneaky, for a Gangrel anyway. All good traits, which I'm sure the Anarchs will appreciate if you're trustworthy enough."
"Anarchs?" Rob grumbled. "Trustworthy? What are you talking about?"
"The fanged rebels," I answered helpfully, "who seek to throw off the shackles of the Camarilla and find an undead free state! My Baron belongs to them," I boasted, "as does Kent. I was part-time until the number man fired me, now just casual hours."
"Sarah why do you keep talking like that?" Rob demanded at last as he gave me a worried look. "It's weird; fuck this whole situation is weird. I thought about you, assumed you were happy at college, I wanted to contact you, when the business was done of course, but I never thought..."
"That she would be Kindred," Kent finished dryly. "Well tragic endings, surprise twists and all that, life is sometimes the greatest story of all, much more unbelievable than any book or film. At any rate you really don't know anything, do you? Bad sire you had to leave you in the dark. I suppose turning you was a Masquerade violation, probably why he fled."
I felt the eyes again, angry, watchful and keen, yes eager now, intrigued, fascinated by the murderous Gangrel. Couldn't let the Anarchs have another good soldier. "We should go," I suggested. "Come with us Rob, let Kent explain our nature to you with his silver tongue, and...let us be reunited properly."
He gave me an odd look and frowned. "I don't know, I'm better off alone and I've changed Sarah, I'm not the brother you remember."
"Oh don't assume too much," Kent remarked brightly, "she's not the person you remember either, Hell she's not the person she remembers. It's a Malkavian thing, short explanation, they're mad."
"What?" Rob looked baffled.
Kent sighed dramatically. "Look, you've gotten your revenge, haven't you?" Rob nodded. "Well what next? You're directionless, like all people who want revenge, you find yourself empty at the end, the satisfaction burns brief and it's not enough. You need purpose, and the Anarchs can give it to you."
"So can the Sabbat!" Blurs moved through the air, a body like steel slammed into me, sending me spiralling briefly through air before my flight was ended against a wooden wall. Ah cursed Potence, made the body stronger but not mine alas.
I turned with a snarl and found two Brujah males and a Gangrel looking back. Black ravens attacked me without warning as one of the Brujah moved at me in a blur and kicked me hard in the side. Damn, speed wasn't just a Toreador talent, ah Clan disciplines, so hard to remember, should have studied harder.
"Assholes!" I heard Kent curse.
"What do you want?" Rob demanded. Attack already Rob! Attack!
"You shouldn't listen to them," another Gangrel answered, "the Anarchs will poison you, your gifts are better used in the Sabbat. We understand your rage, the need for vengeance and death; we get it better than the others."
I sent out a wave of hallucination at my attackers, which one of the Brujah managed to dodge. The other pair shrieked as floating eyeballs with teeth attacked their noses. I stood up to meet the Brujah's attack, I tried to dodge but he was quicker than me. He beat my chest in a flurry of fists, causing me to cry out.
"Sarah! Leave her alone!" Rob snarled as the Gangrel rage showed an appearance.
"She is one of them, she will lie to you so you will join them," the Gangrel spoke to him in a deep, rough, "but they are soft and naive. They do not understand your pain and they will not thank you for your anger, exploit you, mould you into one of them, and quash your independence! It's one set of rules for another, only we are without the rules!"
The other Brujah and Gangrel had snapped out of their hallucinations and were preparing to attack me. I faced the second Brujah when he came at me. "Go Berserk," I hissed at him, "get mad, scream, your enemies are all around, beat them, smash them down."
He halted in his attack and turned from me with a scream. His companions cried out in alarm and jumped back when he attacked then. Seizing my moment of glorious opportunity I produced my samurai sword and started slashing. The Brujah tried to avoid me with his speed but he only ended up colliding with his mad partner. The Gangrel sent a nasty little beetle to burrow into my skin. It dug through flesh to hide with bone and make my arm itch and twitch. I slashed out anyway and the Gangrel lost a hand. Another slash through the cheek as he summoned dust at my feet from which a snarling wolf emerged.
I fell down as fangs sank into my teeth and cursed, looking up as the Gangrel came at me. He pounced with bloody stump and claws as his wolf worried at my feet. I raised the sword and swung. Head rolled from body and golden embers singed me as all became ash and dust.
"You'll pay for that!" a Brujah snarled.
They both came at me; guess my mad tricks weren't strong enough to obliterate them completely. I raised my sword to defend myself when a snarling beast half-man and half-wolf attacked them from behind, ripping them limb from limb with its claws. I rose to help it, slashing out gleefully with my sword. I so rarely got to play in such a violent manner, it was a treat.
The blood was everywhere, soon coupled with sparks and ash. They were gone. I heard a Gangrel cried out in rage, he tried to flee and I watched as the blur that was Kent ended him with several shots to the back. It was almost impossible to avoid a Toreador's swift aim.
The beast Gangrel paused with a heavy pant before shrinking back down into Rob, now red eyed and furious. "What the Hell was that about?" he demanded. "Who were they?" He was too angry to feel fear or worry like me. The Sabbat had not come here by chance, they had been watching, watching who though? Us? Rob? They had wanted him but why attack with us there?
I licked my bloodied sword clean and put it away.
"They were members of the Sabbat," Kent answered as he wiped a blob of blood from his chin with a look of revulsion. "A group of backward, violent idiots who hate the Camarilla, which would be a plus, only they hate everything else too. They don't believe in rules or secrecy, or pretence amongst humans, and are quite happy to murder Kine, publicly at times. They claim they're followers of Caine, waiting to be his army, but they're just thugs." He looked about warily and said, "look we should get out of this place."
"Come with us Rob," I begged, "you can learn about Kindred from us and be safe."
Rob looked at me with sorrowful eyes before shaking his head. "No, I can't, not with you Sarah; I just want to forget now, and I need to be alone."
"You'll be destroyed," Kent remarked warningly. "The Camarilla will be after you and the Sabbat are after you; you can't hide from them both. You need to be with others, safety in numbers and all that, and you need to learn more about what you are."
"No!" Rob cried out. "Look I've done fine on my own, okay? No Camarilla or whatever has got me and I will continue to be fine. Besides," he continued to stare at me, "if I really am being chased by all these things then I don't want Sarah caught up in it too."
"Well at least get out of Santa Monica," Rob urged.
"Go to Hollywood," I pleaded, "on your own if you have to but go there, you can be safe there."
Rob glanced away uneasily and shrugged. "I...I'll think about it, I just need to think."
I felt Kent grip my left hand and knew that he was going to pull me away. Beckett would be waiting, we needed to feed, the clock did not stop for us, only for the Mad Hatter. "Well think fast," Kent urged.
"Goodbye Rob," I said softly. "Please go to the acting district."
"Goodbye Sarah," he answered as his grey-blue gaze flickered back to me.
Kent pulled me away, back past the whimpering dogs, through the shack and then back to Santa Monica's unsavoury hobo filled streets. Kent grumbled, "I should have been on the alert, but who could expect Sabbat? Still, it's what Auspex is for."
"The smoky black in the night," I murmured.
He paused to glance at me and nodded. "Yes, from now on we'll have to be on better guard, they said they wanted your brother but I'm not sure, alright there were more of them than us and they're thick enough to take gambles but still, they knew we were Anarchs, did they get that just from our conversation?"
"I think there are many eyes in the night," I murmured, "and much treachery."
"Right, useful as ever, thanks."
"Rob has already died twice, first his family's death killed him, then a Gangrel, he can't die a third time, he can't."
Kent halted and stared at me with an expression I could not decipher. I flinched when he hugged me, briefly and awkwardly. "I'm sorry kid," he said. "It's tough."
I looked up at him when he pulled back, there was something there, understanding? "Do you know?" I pondered.
He looked away from me and frowned. "Maybe," he muttered. "Come on, let's find some Kine already and get to Beckett, we'll be lucky if he's still waiting."
So we wandered the streets looking for easy dinner, I suggested a hobo or a prostitute and snobby Kent looked like he was going to vomit at even the thought. "Diseases," he muttered, "diseases!" One would think he was a Ventrue sometimes. Although when he saw the ample chests of one of the prostitutes he did pause in reconsideration. "Although we can't get diseases," he mused, "and she looks clean, and well-formed, good blood in her."
I pulled him on this time until we found a trio of college girls. We followed them until they headed down an alleyway. Kent approached them and I waited as he mesmerised them with his charm. Then we fed, on one each just leaving the third wheel dazed against the wall. Sarah's flashbacks were subdued; she was too confused and upset to bother me with feeding. So my drinking was only pleasurable.
Once done we headed back to the diner where Beckett stood with an awkward looking Romero, he looked relieved to see us, I had to assumed the archaeologist wasn't the best company. "Well better late than never I suppose," Beckett gave us a dry greeting. "Your friend said you were feeding, were Kine hard to find?"
"No just delayed by Cainites," I answered brightly, "they don't understand punctuality."
"Cainites?" Beckett arched an eyebrow at that.
"Sabbat," Kent said moodily. "Mindless, violent thugs."
"Well to some," Beckett mused, "certainly misguided I would say and not the most low key of individuals but not mindless, no, they seem to have goals, questionable goals of course, but goals nonetheless."
Kent shrugged. "Well if they had any they weren't sharing. Anyway, we should start heading to Downtown already, I've had enough of the sea air."
"Quite, and I am most eager to see this relic you spoke of," Beckett said, his red stare falling on me. I wondered if he had spotted the Pinocchio in me and knew I had exaggerated about the relic.
I nodded happily. "Mr Cross will be happy to see you," I said eagerly, "and happy to see I have completed yet another task."
"Let's grab a cab then," Kent urged. We followed him to a yellow cab with an all too familiar driver. Stalker! I wanted to jump in the front seat and question him but Beckett stole the honour leaving me on the outside at the back as Kent insisted on going between Romero and I. I kept my eyes on the driver's shady reflection but he gave me no clues there. The guy certainly had to earn a decent wage; I had to wonder if there even were other cabs for Kindred.
Our journey was spent mostly in silence; I just stared out the window watching Santa Monica pass us by and wondered if Rob would have the sense to leave. I considered that I should have been more forward with him, perhaps even aggressive, since the Gangrel in him would understand that. I had been too quick to leave him, not persuasive enough.
He looks like a Rob :-) Probably one too many Santa Monica residents that Sarah knows now, at least Kent thinks so, but I had this idea for a long while and I couldn't not do it. Back to Downtown at last, I'd like to write some more on Sebastian, he's woefully unused in this fanfic but then he appears in so many others and other characters deserve their chance. Many thanks for the reviews and favs as always, and to one reviewer, Isaac will be back, I promise and there will be more on his and Ariadne's relationship.
And yay Ariadne finally got to use a sword! Been longing for some action scenes since there are plenty in the games but since this is character oriented there's not so much action, more plot twists lol.