Chapter 37: The Subtle and Deadly Jyhad

I'd found the internet cafe in the alley behind The Asylum, but I hadn't entered quite yet. I'd made change at the diner across the street from The Asylum (that had been awkward, though Dorris was long since replaced and no one recognized me). I used the quarters on a pay phone in the alley with the cafe to dial Strauss.

I stood there in the shadows, listening to the ringing sound come through the phone. On the fourth ring, after I was about to give up on getting in touch with Strauss, he answered.

"Good evening. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" There was a veiled threat beneath his kind words.

"It's me, Lucius," I replied.

"Ah," he replied, now calm. "I trust all went well?"

"Yep. Got in with no cops seeing me except the one I was supposed to see. In and out, really quickly, and I have everything LaCroix asked for."

"Excellent. And did you notice anything... interesting or unusual while on the Dane?"

"Well..." I wasn't sure what to tell him, so I just told him everything. It was too weird for me to keep to myself. I'd almost blurted it out to the Thin-Bloods and Mercurio, just to tell someone. I told Strauss about the missing crew and the log, about the state of the Ankaran Sarcophagus, about the blood that was wasted, about my suspicions that there was something other than a Kindred in the sarcophagus, and finally finished with the strange voice in my mind.

The line was silent for a few moments, and I was worried we had been disconnected. Then Strauss replied to me. "I see. As I suspected, things were not as they appeared at first. Send the documents to the email address holderofkeys at novo-ordo dot com. Do you have a secure means of sending me these documents electronically?"

"Yes. I'm going to scan them at an internet cafe." I realized that Strauss was old, and might have Mercruio's misgivings. "It's safe, internet cafes-"

"Have excess traffic which hides all activity. I am well aware. In the modern nights, it is required to understand digital communications technologies. It is not the first time in my existence that new technologies have become relevant to my affairs. I make it a point to keep up with such things. For instance, my email client, novo ordo, is an anonymous encrypted service that makes use of proxy servers and destroys all records of past communication upon deletion, rather than keeping records of all messages in company servers, as most do."

Of course he would be savvy. He's incredibly knowledgeable. "My apologies for assuming you didn't know."

"None are required. Indeed, what you did, explaining your action and preventing misunderstanding, is quite necessary when dealing with modern technologies and most elders. Our own clan is the exception, and even then, it is not always the case. In any case, send me all documents you will be sending LaCroix, but type nothing in the email itself about the Dane. Perhaps you should even type something in the email indicating that this is a so-called 'scoop' for a newspaper. One can never be too safe with the Masquerade."

Man, Strauss is really clever. He thinks of angles I can't even... "Of course. I didn't even think of that. It is what the Camarilla contact on the ship thought – he was a police officer and thought I was a reporter, that he was getting paid to get them a scoop. So it will all be consistent. Thank you for the advice. What about LaCroix?"

"Send him the documents from the device he supplied. Write a frank and full report – that line will be secure, at least from mortals. I can't speak for what the Nosferatu may or may not see on that line, but I doubt they waste time with an internet cafe, and so will not see our communication, which is all that truly matters. One thing – leave out the part about the voice in your report to LaCroix. As for why... suffice to say, it will not please LaCroix in the least. I want this to help you advance, not harm you. Above all, absolutely do not send this information to anyone else. Do you understand?"

"I do. I won't do anything without consulting you first."

"You will do nothing unless specifically instructed to do so. You must understand, you are operating at a very delicate and dangerous political level. One wrong move, made without instruction from one who understands the nature of the game, can result in Final Death. Do I make myself clear?"

I got shivers down my spine. "Perfectly clear. I will send it to you and LaCroix only, in exactly the way you instruct me to, and do nothing but what LaCroix asks of me without further instructions from you."

"Excellent. See to it." Strauss hung up on me.

God, now I have to do exactly what I just promised Strauss I wouldn't do. Maybe this isn't a good idea...

"It would be a terrible idea if I were not instructing you directly. What Strauss said applies absolutely, except my instructions should supersede his. I am his elder, and I have far greater concern for you. Make no mistake, he does genuinely care for your well-being – but clan must come first for him, whereas I shall always put your welfare first and foremost. And, of course, as a discorporeal being, I am privy to far more information than he could dream of. The things I have seen lately, the things I have learned..."

Please, share with me! What is in the Ankaran Sarcophagus?

I could almost feel Serena shake her head. "I would not dare go close enough to know for sure. I have suspicions, but I will not burden you with mere speculation. Even once I know for certain, there is no reason to burden you with problems you can do nothing about. Take comfort knowing that I will tell you of any information that has even a remote possibility of being relevant to you. But speculation is not information. Focus on the task at hand, Lucius."

I smiled even as I sighed. Always so cryptic, always so right. What should I do?

"Call the Anarchs. Call Nines Rodriguez directly. He contacted you on your cell phone, correct?"

I nodded, recalling when he had called me at Simon's, after the near-disaster at the hospital downtown. Back when he still wanted me on his team, before the near-disaster with Skelter. God, I wonder what Skelter's told them about me. Um... I don't think Nines is too happy with me right now.

"He will be when you tell him what you have for him. One important point – tell him everything, including the voice – but don't tell him about your suspicions that this isn't an elder."

I was confused. Why not?

Serena sighed in my mind. "The Anarchs believe that the sarcophagus contains an ancient Kindred Elder, and will not trust you if you contradict their beliefs. You see, the Anarchs are willing to question anyone and anything – except for themselves and their own preconceptions. It is the greatest fallacy of modern, or rather, postmodern society. The mortals and many Kindred think they are free because they can do what they want. But what is 'what you want' except some combination of instinct and subconscious training? They rebel against everything but themselves, but they have never once resisted a single urge, never engaged in self-discipline. And then they wonder that they are so easily manipulated by Kindred and kine that have studied the art of subconscious manipulation, the art of using desire and impulse to herd the sheep where they will. Once the humanity of this nation was strong and disciplined, rational and self-sufficient, for natural selection weeded out the lazy and the foolish. There were a thousand beliefs, but no ideology other than necessity. The death of the frontier was the death of the nation. I have watched this country descend into the madness of ideology, capitalism and communism fighting for supremacy, as though proper mortal society does not contain elements of both individualism and personal responsibility mixed with communal concerns and charity to those in need. It chases after an infantile dream of freedom, blind to the world around it, imprisoning itself within its own voluntary delusions, the public looking for anyone to blame but refusing to look in the mirror to find the true culprit. The nation which I helped birth now hurtles toward death, dragging the world with it... yet even this great tragedy may prove to only be a backdrop to one far greater. Enough pontificating. We are not attempting to teach the Anarchs – willful and arrogant as they are, such an endeavor would be as frustrating as it would be pointless. We are going to use them. They have their preconceived ideas about what is going on with the Ankaran Sarcophagus. We will feed into those ideas, and then direct their rage properly. Much like loading and aiming a gun."

I was stunned into silence for awhile. I had never really heard Serena go on a rant like that. She had always been so cold and analytical, so focused purely on expanding my knowledge base. I'd never really been interested in politics, figuring that most of what I was being told was bullshit and sticking to what I could firmly know. Though in the end I had found that empty and chased after deeper knowledge. Which, ironically enough, had thrown me into a world of political intrigue. And now, here was my Sire, connecting mortal politics with the supernatural, weaving in philosophy and history – and then casually saying that the collapse of American society might be a minor detail compared to something even more terrible. And I knew Serena well enough to know there was no point in asking, that she had let something slip she hadn't meant to and I would never hear another detail about it. So... Task at hand. What specifically would you have me do?

"Call the Anarchs. Tell them everything. Tell them of the voice, and that you fear what will happen if LaCroix comes near the Ankaran Sarcophagus. All true, but with certain details left out – specifically those regarding the idea these phenomena have a source other than an ancient Kindred elder. Offer to tell them about what happens at the meeting with LaCroix once it is concluded. I will instruct you further on what to share and what to censor about the content of the meeting once it is over. For now, simply provide them information I have told you. Have I made myself clear?"

I nodded to the empty air. Perfectly. Your plan makes perfect sense – and is pretty devious. I'll see to it your will is done. I picked up the payphone, dropped more quarters in, and dialed the number in my cellphone history, the one Nines had called from.

The phone rang three, then four times. Damn it, is he even going to pick up? And then I heard his voice, cool but with a dangerous edge behind it. "Who is this?"

The icy edge in Nines' voice made me freeze for a moment. I felt like I had done something really bad, like I had just fucked things up with Nines forever, like he was going to come after me. Calm down. He's going to be happy with you. You're doing him a huge favor. Just open up your mouth and start talking. I snapped out of it and replied, "It's Lucius. I'm calling from a payphone."

Silence from the other end for a few seconds. Then, "Surprised to hear from you after the way things went down at the Empire Arms."

Ugh, why did it have to get so awkward so fast? I was hoping to skip past that and go into why he would want to talk to me. Well, I guess I need to address this. "Look, I don't know what you heard from Skelter, but you only heard one side of what happened. If you want to talk about it, fine, we can, but honestly, I have something a lot more important to talk to you about."

"Interesting. I'm curious about what you have to tell that you think is so important, but I do want to talk about it, just for a minute. Tell me your side."

Well, as much as I wanted to avoid it, I have wanted my chance to tell the truth about what happened, so... "We went into the room with the Plaguebearer. She tried to play with our heads, played on Skelter's religious apocalyptic ideas, tried to seem like a rebel. It got to Skelter. He felt sorry for her, thought you could convert her, trusted her enough to think he could walk her out instead of staking her. I told him he was being played, he turned to me to scream at me, and got a stake in the back. So I had to deal with Jezebel."

I paused, waiting to see how Nines would react. All he said was, "That it?"

I realized he was going to test me, see how much I told him, so it was full disclosure time. "No. I almost died, she drank my blood, and I burned the last bit of it using blood magic to get her off me. I frenzied. I had enough sense, even with the Beast running things, to stake her. And then I was insane with hunger. I almost drank from her, but a small part of me knew I'd become infected. So I went for Skelter."

Silence again, until Nines asked, "Then what?"

Geeze, he's being quiet. Trying to get me to hang myself with my own rope? Looking for holes in my story? "The frenzy went away, and I was standing there over Skelter and Jezebel. Then I used a syringe to take Jezebel's blood. Strauss had asked me to, said he needed it to find the source of the plague. Only... he didn't really ask, so much as command me to. With Dominate. He didn't try to hide the fact he did it from me, and it was for a good reason – or so he said." Geeze, I sound like a suck up even to me. Maybe Strauss is actually influencing me in ways I don't understand? Was there something going on in the Chantry? Or maybe I was just so grateful for the chance to get some knowledge, to be protected, to be a part of something, that I genuinely like him and trust him. Which might not be that smart. After all, giving me what I want and keeping me safe is really the most effective way to manipulate me. Regardless, I shouldn't sound that way to Nines. "He said that if things got crazy in a fight, I would forget to grab the blood, so he had to Dominate me. I wanted to point out that he could have just trusted me to do it, but I wasn't about to argue with the man – he's creepy, and I wanted to get access to the blood magic knowledge. Plus, when I went to talk to him after everything went down, I wasn't sure if you guys wanted me dead. Last thing I needed was another enemy. Anyway, after that I unstaked Skelter. He flipped out, fed on me, I used blood magic to get him off me, and then he got staked by Jezebel – again. No idea how she got the stake out. Paul did say there were a bunch of ghosts around her, maybe that has something to do with it. I managed to get her incapacitated, freed Skelter, and he smashed in Jezebel's face. Then we both fed on security guards that showed up and left. Well, Skelter ran way faster than I could left me to figure things out. I slipped into the sewers and made my way out of there. And... that's what happened."

The other line was dead for awhile. "Interesting. Not exactly what Skelter told me, but pretty close. Two stories usually don't match even when everyone's trying to be honest. In any case, I got no problem with you, Lu. So, what do you have to tell me that's so big?"

How should I start? With a good hook... "Have you heard of the Elizabeth Dane or Ankaran Sarcophagus?"

Nines replied after a brief silence. "You better not be playing with me, Lu."

"I'm not, I swear. LaCroix asked me to investigate the Dane..." Is that believable? It's true, but... I did tell him that LaCroix wanted me dead. Why did LaCroix want me to do this? "...after Strauss vouched for me. I guess he was impressed with my work with Jezebel." Was there anything else? LaCroix wanted to know if I could be trusted... "I also might have bitched about Skelter when Strauss asked how things went at the Empire Arms. So I guess that convinced Strauss that I was done with you guys, which worked to my advantage. I'm pissed at Skelter, but I get that he just screwed up, and I know you all aren't like him. I mean, hell, part of being an Anarch is being free to do what you want, so of course some of you will be off the wall. But hey, look, enough about that. Let's get down to business. I have a report for LaCroix about what I found on the Dane. I want you to have a copy. You interested?"

"What do you want for it?"

I didn't even think of that. What do I want? Influence and friendship. "Nothing, really. I guess I want to make sure Skelter or Damsel won't rip my head off the next time I walk into the Last Round."

"That's it? This is a big thing you're doing. And I'm kind of curious. Why? Why risk having LaCroix come after you and take your head, especially when you had every reason to be upset with us? Sounds to me like you've got a cozy little thing going on with your clan and the Cam."

Oh shit. I see what he's getting at. He thinks I'm a double agent. That I've been ordered to give him this to get him to trust me, maybe feed him misinformation. Fuck. How do I get him to believe this is genuine? Well, why am I actually doing this? Because Serena told me to. And why is she telling me to? Because... "Because I'm scared. Because I saw some shit when I was there. Blood from bodies ripped apart by something supernaturally strong. The box the sarcophagus was in was torn apart from the inside. And more than that... I heard something. A voice, whispering to me, telling me to open the sarcophagus, promising me power, knowledge, whatever I wanted if I would just serve it. It was compelling me. I barely managed to resist it." If Serena hadn't been there... "And I wasn't even near the thing, just downloading images from the security room. If I had been next to the thing... At first, all I wanted to do was get out of there. But as I was heading back to shore, I got to thinking. LaCroix is already a power-hungry sociopath. He's not going to resist that voice. Hell, he may already be planning to let whatever elder is locked away in there out in exchange for power. And... whatever is in there needs to stay locked up. It needs to be kept away from LaCroix. Or we are all screwed in a big way. So that's why I'm sending this to you. Because I can't think of a better way to keep that thing away from him."

Deafening silence echoed through the speaker. Then a new voice spoke. "Please insert fifty more cents to continue talking."

I scrambled in my pocket, fumbled out two quarters and put them in. The line clicked and Nines was in the middle of speaking. "-doesn't mean I trust you. But I don't completely distrust you, either. Send what you have to Damsel's email. You remember it?"

"Yeah. Fightthepower at yahoo dot com." I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to send it from an internet cafe so the Nosferatu can't see that I'm sending it. Going to make it seem like a reporter sending a scoop to a newspaper in case the mortal running the place sees it, okay?"

"Smart. Lu, you got a good head on your shoulders. You're real sharp. But remember, lots of our kind thought they were smart enough to play all sides and died a lot earlier than their duller Kindred. Remember, what you're doing now won't last. At some point you gotta declare for a side or stay completely out of the fight." And with that last bit of advice, Nines hung up the phone.

I shivered as I hung up the receiver. Fuck, I hate walking this tightrope. He's right. I'm gonna end up dead if I keep this up. I need a way to stay out of it, or a place to run to. I need... The Confession. A Domain to call my own. I wonder how things are going there? Well, at least I have Paul and Hannah watching over the place. I'm sure it's gotten kind of dull, just sticking around there and watching the crowd. At least they have Father Francis to talk to. And whatever other ghosts wander in there. I wonder if its as popular with the dead as it is with the living? I hope they don't get bored and wander off . Maybe I should summon them and ask about what's going on? Later. Task at hand.

I wandered into the nearby cafe and wandered up to the counter. A scrawny nerd in a stained t-shirt sat behind the desk, playing some game intently on his computer. He looked up briefly. "Thirty bucks an hour. One hour minimum."

"How much to use your scanner?" I asked.

"Another ten."

I handed over forty dollars and was handed a card with a code. "Put that in the computer next to the scanner and you'll log in." I proceeded directly back to the scanner, logged in, and accessed the scanner option under control panel. I took the Police report out of my jacket and started scanning each page, labeling each file "Police report page 1, 2, etc." Same thing for the shipping manifest and captain's log. Then I popped in the thumb drive and uploaded the pictures from the security cameras. I briefly considered putting it all in a file and compressing it, then realized that while Strauss would definitely know what to do, Nines or Damsel might not. No point in making things more complex than needed. I went online and logged onto an old personal email, one I'd used before my Embrace for looking up sketchy things when I was in my espionage phase. I'd never told anyone about it except Serena, so I assumed LaCroix couldn't know about it, even if he'd done thorough research on me. I sent everything to Strauss first. Then sent a separate email to Damsel. I wasn't about to risk Strauss or Damsel seeing who else I was sending stuff to. I doubt Damsel could, but Strauss might have some way of seeing who would be on a Blind Carbon Copy. Not risking it. Then, I downloaded all the images of the documents onto my thumb drive and pulled it out. I deleted all the files from the computer and emptied the recycle bin before logging off and walking out. That was a rip off. Took ten minutes and I had to pay for an hour. Worth it to cover my ass, though.

I walked through the alley and back to my apartment building. It was weird, seeing the place again. I could remember when I first was dropped off in front of this building, right after my Embrace and violent introduction to Kindred existence. I'd been so lost and confused, so desperate for some sort of answers. It was not too long after that I'd met Mercurio and the Thin-Bloods, gained some sense of stability. And then gone into the hospital for Mercurio. I vaguely remembered the woman whose life I'd saved – and saving her life had saved my Humanity from being completely lost after killing Sherry. She hadn't been the first life I'd taken, not even the first person I'd drained to death, but it was the first time I'd lost control, when I hadn't chosen to kill. Is her soul still inside me? What's that like? Does she see the world from my eyes? Can she hear my thoughts? Can she know how sorry I am for what I've done? Can I apologize to you, Sherry? Would that even mean anything, faced as you are with undeserved eternal damnation? Well,if it's any consolation, from what I've seen – from what we've seen – the afterlife isn't that great, either. At least you're safe here, I suppose. And hey, at least my existence is entertaining. Could be worse, I suppose. But I'm sorry. I hope you know that.

I pulled myself out of my reverie and wandered over into the alley where I'd met Sherry, the alley where I'd rescued her, only to damn her. The bum was nowhere to be seen – I guess I'd scared him off long ago. He never showed up there again. I pulled out my keys and opened the lock on the door, entering the building where my Haven was. I climbed the old familiar stairs, left behind so long ago. Geeze, it's only been a couple nights, but it already feels like forever. So much has happened since then. It will be good to be home again. How wrong I was.

I opened my apartment door. It wasn't obvious at first, but something about the place threw me off. I looked around. It was the same old run-down hole, the same stained mattress to my left, the same dirty kitchen to my right... So what's wrong? I walked over to the desk, to the laptop LaCroix had left me – and then I saw it. The notepad I'd written my journal entries on. I looked through it. It described my time before my Embrace. 'My name was Luke,' it began. As I flipped through it, I saw descriptions of Serena's blood magic, and then... those damning words... 'I want to kill LaCroix.' And then I remembered. I kept this in the desk. In the drawer. So how the fuck is it out on the desk? I looked around, panicked. I realized that even more was off. My counter was empty. There were some old pizzas and blood bags in the corner. I never bothered to clean this place at all. What the fuck? Who's been in my Haven? Calm down. Think. Who would... LaCroix. Of course. He got me this place, so of course he has access. He wanted to snoop on me. This notepad being out is his way of telling me he's been here, that he saw that. Fuck! I mean, obviously he doesn't want to kill me now, or he would have done it already. Still, those words are probably enough to convict me in open court, or what passes for it among the Kindred. It all makes sense now. He trusted me to look into the Dane because he has this blackmail on me. He meant for me to find it when I came back here. To scare me into keeping quiet, to let me know he now controls me completely And honestly, it's working. I already regret telling the Anarchs. Hell, I regret telling Strauss. What the fuck am I going to do? He has me by the balls. I'm going to have to be his bitch from here on out. I have zero choice. All my hopes of playing different sides off against each other, of even having independence within clan Tremere, they're all gone forever. I'm fucking stuck with him, serving him... forever. Damn it!

I punched the wall in frustration. My fist went right through the drywall. Yet again, I heard a thumping from downstairs. I remembered how mad they had got, the last time I had made noise at an ungodly hour. I sat down in the chair and laughed. It was all so absurd there was nothing else to do. Some things never change, as fucked up as the rest of the world is. So what now? Task at hand. Nothing else to do. Show my loyalty to my new master by doing as he tells me.

I pulled the chair up to the computer and logged in. Once in the email client, I popped in the thumb drive and attached all the files. So now, what do I say? God, reminds me of the first email I sent LaCroix, I was so nervous about appearing subservient, about avoiding the fate of my Sire. And now I'm in just as miserable a position, and need to suck up to the fucker. I wrote,

"Dear Prince LaCroix,

The mission was performed perfectly. I arrived and met Heinz by the dock point. He was easily convinced I was a mortal reporter. He gave me the police report and sent me to find the objectives. I avoided even the slightest notice of any other law enforcement. I reached the records room and retrieved the manifest. As you will see, it showed there was nothing of interest on the Dane except for the Ankaran Sarcophagus. I also found the captain's log, which contained an interesting narrative as to the events at sea. I've included this in my report. I saw many large bloodstains on the Dane, of such intensity and spread that only a powerful supernatural entity could have caused them. I did find it odd that there was so much blood – it made me think that perhaps this was not a Kindred we were dealing with, as a hungry Kindred most likely wouldn't waste so much blood, but I certainly could be wrong. In any case, I reached the security camera console and downloaded an image of the Sarcophagus from the security camera facing it, along with pictures from all the cameras throughout the Dane. These images, and every page of the police report, shipping manifest, and captain's log, are attached to this email. It was clear in the image that the box containing the Sarcophagus had been ripped apart. There were bloody handprints on the outside of the Sarcophagus. Clearly, the Sarcophagus had been opened, either from the outside or inside. While I don't fully understand what is going on, I am absolutely certain that the Ankaran Sarcophagus is very dangerous and needs to be in responsible hands as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Lucius Marshall"

That's good. It's factual, can't be contradicted, shows my loyalty for him, what with the whole 'need to be in responsible hands' thing. Of course it does – and I hope it never ends up in his! With that last little thought, with that small subtle rebellion, I sent the email. And then I sighed, realizing that for eternity, that might be the most I would be allowed to rebel. I looked around at the run-down apartment that was my only Haven. I looked down at my nice suit and realized what a charade it was- I had it only to please LaCroix. I thought about the major players I had involved myself with lately, and realized that for most of it I had probably been a pawn of LaCroix. He used me to deal with the plague, to get a plant inside the Anarchs, maybe even inside clan Tremere. I looked at the notepad on my desk and realized how foolish I had been to think I was free, that I had options. I'm trapped because of a stupid note. Because I needed to express my thoughts freely after the bullshit at the theater, after seeing Serena killed and feeling helpless and bitter. One small mistake, and everything is wrecked to shit. And for about a minute, I just put my head in my hands, leaned against the desk, and sank into despair.

My cell phone rang, pulling me out of my hole. I checked who was calling me. Oh. Mercurio. Right, I was supposed to hang out with him. Well, shit, I could use a drink or three right now. I pulled myself together and answered his call. "Hey, Merc. Just finished sending the email to LaCroix. What's up with you? How are things going at the bail bondsman?"

"Alright. I was actually hoping you could help me out. We have... a weird situation. One that might work out really well for Julius and the Thi- and his friends. You have a minute or two?"

Yeah, sure, why not? Not doing anything else. "Yep. What's up? This won't be dangerous, will it?"

"Nah, not at all. I just want you to knock on the door across the hall from your place."

"Um... Okay. What's this all about?" I asked as I left my depressing Haven, stopping to grab the offending notepad on the way out. May as well get rid of this.

"Just... tell me if anyone answers, and if they do, put them on the phone."

I don't like this. Can I not even trust Mercurio? Nonetheless, I still raised my fist and knocked. Time stretched on, and there was no sound coming from the room. I knocked again, very loudly. Still not a peep. Weird. It's 4:30 in the morning. Most people aren't out this late. What gives? I told Mercurio, "No one answered. I knocked a few times, and not the slightest sound from inside. Care to explain what's going on?"

"Yeah, of course. See, my buddy Kilpatrick here – the bail bondsman – he told me there's this guy, Mike Durbin. Guy's got three warrants for his arrest and missed his last court date after Kilpatrick bailed him out. Apparently he lives in your building, across the hall from you. Small world, right? And I got thinking, if the guy isn't there, well, I gotta know, since I gotta fill that place to keep the building paid for. Tripp's profit margins are too low for deadbeats skipping out on rent. And since Julius and his friends are about to have a job and all, and need a place to stay..."

"That's... really clever, actually. Kills two birds with one stone." Not sure how I feel about having these guys that close to me. On the one hand, it's good to have friends nearby, but on the other hand, too many Kindred in one place could lead to problems. Hopefully, I'll be moving out soon. Though I should maintain this place if possible, or LaCroix will get suspicious. God, I don't really have any options – now that LaCroix has this blackmail on me I need to be really careful. I probably have to abandon the dream of getting The Confession as my own domain – unless LaCroix gives me permission. Ugh. Maybe I'll just end up staying here until LaCroix gives me another Haven. God, that's a depressing thought. Task at hand. "What should I do now?"

"Um... Hold on." I could hear Mercurio talking with someone, but couldn't make out the words. "Would ya mind picking the lock on the door and taking a look around?"

"Yeah, sure. No problem." I looked around to make sure no one was in the hall. No reason for anyone to come to the end of the hallway, just my place and this abandoned one. I pulled out my kit and started messing with the tumblers. It was a simple lock, easily picked. That's comforting. Bet it was easy for whoever LaCroix sent to get into my place. If they didn't just have the key. I turned the lock and opened the door.

The room was like mine in the way it was constructed, but it was completely empty. I put my phone back up to my ear. "The place is completely cleared out. Zero furniture, no appliances, not even trash on the floor or food in the kitchen. Whoever lived here has taken their stuff and run."

"Aw, shit. You hear that Kilpatrick?"

"Yeah," I heard a man with a Jersey accent say. Apparently I was on speakerphone. Thanks for letting me know, Mercurio. "I figured, but I was hoping for some sort of clue. Is there anything there?"

I looked around. "There's one thing. A phone and answering machine. Looks like there's some messages there."

"Ah, yeah," the Jersey man said. "Old tactic. Leave the phone on the hook so people don't realize you're gone. Most o' those messages are probably from me, but if you don't mind, could you listen to 'em and see if there's anything that might give us a clue about what happened?"

I sighed. "Yeah, alright. I'll put you on speakerphone so you can hear what's on the machine." After all, what else am I doing? It will keep me distracted from my shit situation. And it will help the Thin-Bloods. I may be fucked and trapped, but I can do this, have some effect on the world. I guess losing all hope of getting ahead and playing the political games puts things in perspective. Maybe this will help me appreciate the small things...

I played the messages. There were three from Kilpatrick, all increasingly angry and urgent. I skipped each as soon as I heard his voice. And then there was one from missing man himself. He sounded like Elvis. "Hey, Mare, it's Mike. Look, I gotta head downtown for a few days, maybe longer. If Reno calls, tell him to meet me down there. We got something to discuss, apparently. I'll be at Milton's place in the Skyline Lofts, 2A. Sorry babe, I'll explain everything later."

"Alright!" the Jersey voice, who I assumed to be Kilpatrick, shouted from the phone. "We got a lead! Now I just gotta find Carson, and get him on the case..."

I heard Mercurio speak up, "And I'm telling you, if Carson's been gone this long, he probably ain't coming back."

"It don't matter, man, I'm not gonna just give up on the guy. Me and him go way back. Your man can try his shot at finding him, I'll pay him for that, and we'll see what happens when Carson gets back."

I figured I'd interject and try to help Julius a little. "And you can pay Julius for the work I just did. You know, the whole breaking and entering thing I did for you."

"Uh..." Kilpatrick sounded hesitant. Probably hoped to get me to do this for free. "Yeah, sure, I'll hook your guy up with some cash when he comes back with Carson."

Nice try, buddy. "You'll hook him up now with cash now for the job I just did, then pay him separately for Carson when he comes back with him later."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what I meant. Jeeze, hardass," I heard him mutter at the end before Mercurio took the phone off speakerphone. I did the same and smiled. I may be powerless in the world of the Kindred, but at least I can pull small strings and do small favors for my friends.

Mercurio was back on the line. "Hey, Lucius. Thanks for that. Who knew that helping your friends out would work out for me? Glad I got in front of that, could have been a real shitshow. I've put managing that place on the backburner lately, but we need the property, it's the only place our organization has in Santa Monica that isn't owned by Therese. Gotta keep an eye on her somehow, you know? I mean, yeah, I could ask the big man for money, but he's got everything properly allocated through his budget, automatically deducted and all that. It's all supposed to work like clockwork. He doesn't even like having his secretary bugged over small things like this, ya know?"

"Yeah, I get it. Gotta keep the big man happy, right?" I shuddered a little. Looks like Mercurio and I have a lot more in common, now. Ugh, I wonder if LaCroix is going to blackmail me into drinking his blood?

"Yep, you get it. Anyway, I'm gonna send Julius on his way and then head over to my place. See you in five."

After Mercurio hung up the phone, I looked around the empty apartment. I looked down at the notebook, flipping through its pages. I looked over the old symbols, and the lessons about the nature of the blood. On a whim, I pulled out the notes I had made tonight about Alchemical Thaumaturgy, about the interaction of the blood essence with the nature of physical reality. I compared them carefully. Serena had told me: "The fundamental nature of magic is the ability to alter reality through will and belief. Yet such direct influence is next to impossible, as far as we can see, even for those who demonstrate talent and strong enough willpower. For the masses of humanity have bought into a great consensus as to the nature of existence, believing in only fixed physical laws, and your individual will cannot fight against this consensus. Further, altering the universe through willpower alone is inconsistent and chaotic at best. However, some aspects of reality appear to be fixed, transcending all attempts at altering them through either mundane consensus or supernatural will. The power of blood is one such focus. It is bound in the subconscious of all humans, and its power is absolute and fixed. Its power is not transcendental, but inherently physical and of this world. It appears to be the absolute essence of physical power within this plane, and thus appears to have absolute power over physical reality."

I compared her words to what I had written about Thaumaturgical Alchemy. "While the most common uses of the blood are to grant one greater strength or speed or perception, the simple fact of the matter is that all these uses have a single common thread – the alteration of physical matter through the blood. Indeed, the most basic power of the blood is to turn inanimate flesh into a simulation of life. These common powers are simply variations on that transformation. Thus, one can conclude that the most basic, inherent power of Kindred Vitae is the ability to alter physical matter. Indeed, this is the case – the first Thaumaturgical powers discovered were those relating directly to the use of the blood to alter matter and forces, with the manipulation of fire proving the most effective at ensuring our clan's survival. Yet Alchemy proved useful in its own way, allowing us to create powerful armors and weapons, indestructible fortresses and Chantries, and even allowing us to boil our enemies blood in their veins."

Common themes reinforcing each other. I don't want to lose these notes. And I clearly need to hide the notes I just took on Alchemy. I looked around. This place would be good. No one is coming here except the Thin-Bloods, who are nobodies, with no connection or loyalty to anyone, and my friends. They'd literally be dead and homeless without me. This is the safest place for my notes. I thought of where I could put them. Stuffed them into my briefcase, then looked around. I saw an air intake vent, and pried it off with my tire iron. It easily popped off – it actually seemed like someone had removed it before, to clandestinely stash something. Almost perfect. I doubt it will close securely, but if someone decided to look in here, they'd find it either way. I doubt the Thin-Bloods will investigate. And even on the off chance they find it, who would they tell but me? I placed the suitcase with all my secrets and research into the air intake vent, then secured the cover back on. It's safe here. Safer than it would be anywhere else, anyway. Not that it matters. I'm sure whoever searched my Haven has pictures of them, pictures they could use to compare handwriting in case I tried to deny the words were mine. I'm still well and truly screwed. I'm sure at some point LaCroix is going to demand knowledge of Blood Magic from me – knowledge beyond what he already gathered from my notes. Damnit! I'm sorry, Serena. Your secrets have been betrayed. There was no answer from my Sire. I was alone.

Well, I don't have to be. Time to hang out with Mercurio. And with that last thought, I left.