Celeste's Explanation

by Marcus Gaudry

A novelization of the RPG Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines from the PC perspective of Celeste Sangreal, House and Clan Tremere. DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the source material, and this is for entertainment purposes only.

1. Chapter 1

To: Maximilian Strauss, Regent of the Los Angeles Chantr

From: Celeste Sangreal, Apprentice

Re: My role and decisions surrounding the Ankaran Sarcophagus

Max:

To begin I want to thank you for your mentorship in these early nights of my embrace. Despite my being embraced outside of the Pyramid and without the consent of the now departed Prince LaCroix, you took me in, gave me shelter and guidance, and even made it so I could be counted and recognized by the House and Clan Tremere regardless of the reckless actions of my Sire, Javier. I have no doubt that this was done with no small amount of personal risk on your part, and that is not lost on me. Thank you.

It is also clear to me that you are likely and understandably disappointed with me and my decisions in regards to the events leading to the final death of Prince LaCroix, and of course my prompt departure from Los Angeles after. For that, I am genuinely sorry. To be clear, this is not an apology for my actions or any of my decisions; those were mine to make, and what is done is done. I am sorry that you are likely disappointed. So I offer no apology, but I do offer this explanation.

My hope is to make you understand that I have by no means abandoned or betrayed House and Clan Tremere. The House and the Clan are my blood, and blood is family. By my reckoning, I couldn't leave that behind even if I wanted to. What I am walking away from is the Camarilla, the Anarch Experiment, and by and large the Jyhad as a whole. While you are correct in principle on the purpose of the Camarilla, the heavy handed approach they apply leads to inevitable revolt. As admirable as the ideologies of many of the Anarchs may be, they will always fail for the same reasons that all of the mortals' political and philosophical ideals fall short; their ambition, greed and self interest will be their undoing, much as it is with the Camarilla. The Sabbat need not be addressed; it is obvious why they are doomed. Therefore, the only reasonable course to take, as fraught with its own challenges as it may be, is to remove oneself from the games the Kindred play altogether. It is my recommendation that the House and Clan as a whole do the same. I sent this letter, along with a package containing a book I acquired from the LA Giovanni stronghold while securing the Ankaran Sarcophagus late last month. It is the Voce De La Morte. My original intent was to give it to a flesh eater which was holed up in the dilapidated hospital downtown, but thought it may be of use to us. I hope it finds you well. I'm sure you recognize Heather Poe, my ghoul, from my stay in your Chantry. Please treat her with kindness while she is there, and she will return to me as soon as is possible.

At any rate, my full explanation begins on my first night among the Kindred...

"I want to show you something..."

Celeste Sangreal always sensed she was meant to be a part of something more, something bigger than herself. More important than sensing it, she knew it. She had a way of knowing things all of her life. For most of her life she couldn't explain how or why; not until she hooked into a group of witches in high school, and then joined up with a Coven in University. It was through the Coven that she first met Javier.

"I want to show you something..."

Javier was a wizard of the order of Hermes, or so he claimed. He certainly seemed to be legit; he knew the history and was well versed in the right liturgy. It was weird that he only ever seemed to be available after dark, but other than that he was incredible. An even bigger thing for Celeste, though, was that she knew that Javier was part of her path. This was why, when he asked her out for dancing, she jumped at the opportunity. The Club he chose was a converted church downtown; he seemed to know the owner/bartender, and there was this one girl that pestered him for awhile; wanting to know if he, Javier, had seen her boyfriend or whatever; some guy named Kent. Celeste's guess was that this Kent guy had ghosted her, based on how impossibly annoying she was. At some point in the night, Javier suggested they get out of there for more private surroundings. Celeste wasn't stupid; he obviously was looking to get laid, and he wasn't being particularly elegant about his approach. Not that she minded, exactly; his awkwardness on the subject was a little bit endearing, in fact. Maybe she would have the advantage over him for once.

It was on the way to the shabby hotel that she got an idea that she was missing the point to this little detour entirely. She started to clue in that this was the path she was supposed to be on. Was he taking her somewhere for some kind of initiation?

"I want to show you something..."

Getting laid was indeed part of the deal for Javier, though it seemed to Celeste that she was getting more out of it than he was. That was, until...

"I want to show you something..." he said. A kind of darkness filled his voice and a weird brightness filled his eyes. Before she could react, Javier lunged forward and bit into her neck. She let out a shriek of both terror and pain as his fangs...yes, fangs, pierced into her flesh and drew blood and more than blood from the wound. For a moment, she could actually feel her life draining away as he drank it down.

And then she tasted it. It was just a drop; a drop of his life on her tongue and in her throat. She woke, still in the hotel, on the bed with the gross and stained mattress; why didn't that bother her? The place was in shambles. Had she passed out? No, she had died; she was sure of that. But if she died, why was she alive? On the wall, there was a sweep-second clock that read 3:45 am.

Fully awake and alert, Celeste sat up in the bed, only vaguely aware that she was fully clothed in the little black dress she chose for her date with Javier. He was sitting in a chair, nearby, waiting for her to come to.

"Welcome, Celeste," He said. "I am certain you have questions, and I will answer them all."

The door to the hotel room crashed open and something with the shape of a man but was not a man burst in. The thing, which reeked of bleach, threw a wooden spear- more like a stake one might see in one of those old horror movies- at Javier, catching him squarely in the heart. Behind the thing, a woman dressed like a cheerleader bounded in and stabbed her with a stake, too. The last thing Celeste remembered seeing before everything went dark again was a huge man-beast, about the size of Mount Everest, that looked like a cross between a bat and a gorilla standing in the doorway.

"Good evening," a soft, almost gentle voice rang in her ears once the stake was removed from her chest and the cheerleader was standing behind her, restraining her. She and Javier were on a stage, surrounded by a group of people that Celeste had never seen before, though Javier seemed to know them. The shape thing was behind Javier, restraining him. They were in some kind of auditorium or theater; and in front of an audience. All eyes in the audience turned momentarily towards the source of the voice, which spoke in soft, gentle tones that Celeste felt certain were anything but genuine.

The voice belonged to a man in a fancy suit that screamed out to corporate vampire, who was walking downstage from the shadows behind them and into a spotlight centre stage. He was accompanied by the gorilla-bat. The man looked to be in his early thirties, had immaculately combed hair and was impeccably tidy in his appearance, manner, and gait. He continued to speak, like the director of some board or something, choosing his words with the utmost care; something about some law and policy in his city... Celeste wasn't paying too much attention to his words; she was much more interested in the audience and their responses to the man.

There was a group of punks; a Latino guy rocking a California version of what people back home Seattle had gotten used to calling a Canadian Tuxedo, a black guy, and a white chick who sported a beret over her long red hair. Celeste couldn't help but think it was rare to see someone sporting a beret so effectively. The black guy was whispering something to the Latino guy, who looked like he was about ready to start cracking some skulls. There was also a middle aged man in a suit that looked almost as expensive as the speaking man's. He was glancing at his watch; clearly this was his second choice of places to be tonight; his first choice being literally anywhere else. She could see a blond woman, smartly dressed in a power suit, hanging closely to every word the speaking man was saying. There was also a red-haired woman, wearing little more than the latest line from Victoria's Secret. She blew a kiss to a bald man with tinted glasses in a leather overcoat sitting up in the balcony. The bald man waved the kiss off; whether to say 'not now' or 'no way, bitch' Celeste wasn't sure. The bald guy, apart from being in the balcony, kind of set himself apart from the others in that unlike them, his eyes never left her and Javier; even from all the way down on the stage, she could feel his fury simmering at the sight before him, though he controlled his emotions well and watched with ever increasing interest.

"The penalty for this transgression is death." The soft speaking man said. Then after a pause which was no doubt meant for dramatic effect, he continued. "Know that I am no more an adjudicator for these laws than I am a representative for all that we Kindred in this city stand for. It troubles me especially to hand this sentence down since until tonight I had always considered the guilty one of my most loyal subjects." He reached down and lifted Javier's face by the chin. "Forgive me," he said. The lamentation in his voice was as false as his attempts to sound like some gentle benefactor.

"Let the penalty commence." He said, stepping away. Now the cold steel in his voice sounded genuine enough. The bleach smelling thing stepped back as the gorilla-bat came forward, pulling a sword the size of a bus from his trench coat. How did she miss that? He held the sword over his head, and brought it down, taking off Javier's head with a single stroke. Barely a splash of blood escaped from Javier's neck before his head and body disintegrated into ash.

What the fuck was happening?

There were a few murmurs from the audience. The bald man on the balcony tensed up for a fraction of a second; betraying that perhaps Javier was someone of some importance to him. Victoria's Secret looked away at the last possible second before the blade came down. Deep in the shadows, near a fire exit, Celeste noticed a biker smoking a cigar; from his posture, even in the shadows, Celeste discerned he had nothing but contempt for what was happening; whatever it was.

"Which brings us to the fate of the ill-begotten Progeny," the man who was apparently the boss around here said. There was a kind of sick glee in his voice. It wasn't lost on Celeste that he was talking about her. Whatever Javier did to her, this man wasn't happy about it. He intended to do to her what he did to Javier. It didn't matter that she had no control of what was done to her, or that she didn't ask for any of it. As far as this asshole in his expensive suit was concerned, she, the victim, was just as guilty as Javier was. It was bullshit.

"Without a sire, a Kindred is doomed to walk this earth without a place or guidance, and no understanding of our ways and traditions. Which is why I have decided..." the asshole in the suit was saying, obviously leading up to her execution at the hands of his pet gorilla-bat.

"THIS IS BULLSHIT!"

The asshole in the suit stopped talking. The crowd seemed to collectively gasp in unison, with the exception of the trio of punks. The Latino had stood up, and since all eyes were on him now, it was clearly him who called the bullshit on the stage what it was. The woman with the beret and the black guy stood up with their Latino friend; evidently both to support his sentiment and to keep him from charging the stage.

Yeah, what he said. Celeste thought. Then, gradually, others in the audience began to stand as well. It started with a guy in the background that looked like a dead ringer for that movie star from that flick 'Negative Zero'. Then another, and another; it was soon clear that the punks were not alone in finding her execution unjust; and even asshole suit could see that. There was a flash of near panic in his eyes as he formulated a way out of this unexpected resistance.

"I-if Mister Rodriguez would let me finish," He stammered, trying to sound like he was merely pausing for the sake of regaining his own patience. "Which is why I have decided to let this childe live. She will be instructed in our ways and be granted the same rights and responsibilities as the rest of us. Let it never be said that I am not compassionate towards the causes of this community. That concludes the events for this evening. I hope that their significance is not lost. Good evening."

The one called Rodriguez and his two friends stomped out of the auditorium as the cheerleader hoisted Celeste up and guided her to the backstage area where the asshole suit was waiting. While the rest of the audience filed out, the suit introduced himself as Sebastian LaCroix, Prince of Los Angeles.

"Your sire; a terrible tragedy, my apologies," LaCroix said. "You see, there are very specific laws and codes that we must...we must adhere to if we are to persevere. Understand my predicament. Because I have taken you on into our world, you are my responsibility. Your actions and behaviors from this point forward are a direct reflection on me."

LaCroix turned and walked towards an emergency exit in the back of the building. It was clear to Celeste that she was supposed to follow, so she did. This Prince, whatever that was supposed to mean, was well accomplished at saying absolutely nothing without missing a single word. Sure, there were laws she was expected to follow, but no word as to what these laws were. LaCroix went on talk as if he was being a good guy for sparing her life; he spoke as if she wasn't aware that his initial intent was to have his overgrown pet take her head off.

"Make no mistake; this is no act of benevolence. You will have to prove that my decision was not a wasted one. You will be taken to Santa Monica where you will be provided with a safe house to serve as your haven. There you will meet with an agent named Mercurio. He will fill you in with the details of your assignment. Prove to me that my decision was a prudent one, fledgling. Do not come back until you do. Good evening."

Just like that, Prince LaCroix showed Celeste the door; essentially giving her the classic bum's rush. With no context of what was happening or any clarity on these new laws she was evidently bound to live by, she was outside. She was left out in the back alley of some LA theater with an assignment she nothing about until she met a complete stranger who was going to explain it to her on behalf of someone who might possibly be the biggest little prick on the planet.

"Don't come back until you do," she muttered to herself. "Well, maybe I'll just blow you off, then. Maybe I won't ever come back and fuck you anyway."

She turned around and stepped into the alley. A few feet away, the biker she saw in the shadows inside was leaning up against the wall like he was waiting for her. That was perfect; just fucking perfect. The guy who was probably supposed to take her to Santa Monica was already here for her. She wasn't going to be able to walk away from this. Was the path she thought she always knew she'd find herself on? If it was, she felt ripped off. Seeing no real options, she approached the biker, who was now laughing heartily. Oddly, there was something about his laughter that gave her a little comfort. Instead of coming off like he was laughing at her, it was more like he was adding a little levity to her situation.

"What a scene, man!" he said, chuckling. "And then they just drop you out here naked like a baby in the woods... wow-wee!" He took a second to gain a little composure. "Okay, kiddo, I know all of this is probably a lot for you to take in, so how's about I get you orientated? You know, show you a few of the ropes. What do you say?"

That was when it came to her attention that she couldn't feel that knowing anymore. Something in her had changed. Whatever Javier had done to her, Celeste Sangreal was different than before. Not so much someone else, but more like something else. She was still able to deduce things fairly quickly, though; and she was deducing that this biker was not her ride to Santa Monica, after all. It was more likely that he somehow managed to jump the queue and get to her first.

"Who are you?" Celeste asked.

"I'm Jack." He replied. "What's important is that I'm offering help. You make it back from Santa Monica with your hide and we'll trade life stories, okay? Until then, I got about this much time," He held up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "Are you in or out?"

Finally, someone around here was willing to tell her exactly what the fuck was going on!

"Uh, sure. I mean yeah. I could use the help."

Jack nodded. "Alright..." he said. He glanced around from one side of the alley to the other. "Hey, how about we step out back here?" He pointed over to one end of the alley. Celeste followed Jack. "Christ almighty, it was stuffy in there, wasn't it?"

"I guess so," Celeste replied. "To tell you the truth I was a little preoccupied with panic to take much notice."

Jack chuckled. "I bet you were kiddo." He said. "Now we don't got a lot of time, but the way I figure is someone oughta fill you in on the bare bones stuff at least. Y'know, give you a fightin' chance to keep your hide." Jack paused, gave Celeste a look over, as if discerning something. "You look wobbly." He commented. "Have you even had a drink yet?"

It hadn't even occurred to her, but Celeste was feeling a little woozy and light headed. There was this one time when she was eight years old and she got dehydrated; the way she felt now reminded her of that.

"Not that I recall..." Celeste answered, unsure of what exactly Jack was talking about.

Jack burst out in hearty laughter again; and again Celeste got the impression his laughter was in no way malicious. "Oh, man, we're poppin' a cherry over here!" He cried. "Oh, you're gonna love this. Alright, check it out. Blood: it's your new rack of lamb, your new champagne, hell; blood's your new fuckin' heroin, kiddo. I'll tell you this, though; it's never as sweet as the first time."

Then it started to click. Jack was saying that she was a vampire, or at least that was what it was starting to sound like. Not one of those lifestyle vampires, either; he it sounded like he meant the real, undead creature of the night genuine article vampire. Celeste had to admit; that idea did have an appeal to it.

"So...what do I do?" she asked.

"Well, right around the corner there I saw some poor S.O.B. human; it seems he can't find his car..." he let out another of his signature chuckles. It was clear to Celeste that it was likely Jack might know why the poor S.O.B. couldn't find his car.

Curious to make sure she was hearing him right, Celeste asked Jack what exactly she was supposed to do. Jack, like a coach, walked her through the play she ought to make, and even gave her a little pep talk about how it wouldn't matter if she wasn't a star wrestler or anything, because the rest would come naturally. So far it sounded exactly like she would have guessed. With that in mind, Celeste was guessing that simply biting the guy and taking some of his blood wouldn't turn him into a vampire as well; for that she would have to drain him dry and then give him a little of her own blood; like what Javier did to her.

"Alright, then; I could use a drink." She said.

"Okay, go for it." Jack said. "You wanna be careful, though, and this is important. Don't drain him dry. It might be hard to resist, but don't kill him."

Celeste nodded solemnly. She made her way around the corner and found the guy Jack was talking about. Celeste contemplated talking to him first, maybe offering to help find his car if he would give her ride, but since he didn't even see her coming she didn't bother. She was on him before he even knew what hit him, and her fangs pierced his flesh with ease. She began to drink; and it was more than just the coppery taste of blood that she took in. She could taste his life; all of his experiences and memories flashed in her mind, every emotion he ever had coursed through her; during the moments of her feed, the two of them truly were one, on a level far beyond any sexual encounter she had ever known. Now she understood why Javier was not into getting laid at all; that that was just a ruse to get something so much better...

She let the man go before taking everything from him. It was close, but she pulled away. The man fell, slumped into a heap at her feet. Silently she leaned over him, her ear to his face. He was still breathing, and his heart beating; albeit weakly. He would live. He would feel like twelve pounds of shit in a ten pound bag when he came to, but he'd be alive. Satisfied that her prey would live to see another day, Celeste returned to Jack.

Jack looked her over appreciatively. "Yeah, you're feelin' it, alright. Hell yeah, I see it your eyes. You're a born again predator; feeling that blood bubbling inside you, lifting you up. That's what it's all about right there."

"I have to admit, that's unlike anything else I've ever felt." Celeste said.

"Alright, so now you got the blood, you're feeling all kick ass, better than your best day living, but wait, there's more!" Jack said. "All Kindred...that's our word for Vampire... have a few things in common; things that set us square above humans in the food chain."

Though she was getting the picture, Celeste asked like what anyway; it seemed to her Jack was enjoying his role as mentor/ pitch man. He was helping her, so let him have his fun doing it his way, she reasoned.

"Like sharper senses, a body that can take one hell of a beating, and if you play your cards right, eternal life. Now that ain't no sure bet, but hey, a shot at immortality's not a bad deal. And that's just for starters; fringe benefits for joining the club. Like I said, you can still be destroyed, but forget the books and the movies. Garlic? Worthless. Crosses? Stick 'em up their asses! A wooden stake? Only if it catches you in the heart, and then it just paralyzes you. Running water? That's no problem; I bathe occasionally."

""So I'm going to live forever?"

"Hold on kiddo, lemme finish." Jack said. "Now, a shotgun blast to the head; that's trouble. Fire; oh, that's real trouble. Sunlight; well, let me put it to you this way: if you catch a sunrise it's all over for you, get it?"

"Got it."

"Okay, good. Now..."

Jack was interrupted by an explosion nearby. "What the fuck is this?" He hissed. The ruckus around them grew in intensity; Celeste had no idea what it was about, and whatever it was clearly bothered Jack a great deal. He indicated a door beside them and advised her to get inside and go upstairs while he checked it out.

Seeing no reason to argue, Celeste ducked through the door and went inside to find herself in some sort of auto repair shop; much better than being outside amid gunfire. She looked around but could not see any stairs, so she hopped up onto the roof of an old husked out VW Beetle to climb up onto the next floor. Once up there, Celeste saw a lock pick just sitting on top of some boxes; apparently left behind indifferently. Purely on impulse, Celeste grabbed the pick and tucked it away. As if by sheer serendipity, the first door she encountered on the upper level was locked.

No time like the present to see if she remembered how to pick a lock. Her older brother showed her how when she was twelve and he was eighteen; it wasn't until much later that she realized why. He was using her to break into places so he wouldn't get convicted and tried as an adult. Not that any of that mattered anymore; as it turned out she still had that skill. She got the door open rather easily. The door led to a hallway where Jack was already waving her towards him telling her to keep her head down and away from the windows.

p class="MsoNormal""It's a Sabbat raid." Jack whispered. "For fuck sake, I was hoping to save this bullshit for later. The Sabbat...god-dammit... The Sabbat is a bunch of mindless bloodthirsty assholes, okay? That's all you need to know for now. My guess is they got wind of the gathering here and thought it was a good time to raise a little hell and put some heat on the 'Prince'. But we don't have time for political run downs right now. First thing is getting you outta here alive. The Sabbat might be mindless, but they hit like a Mack Truck; they're raging savages and nothing a fledgling like you wants to mess with."

"Fair enough," Celeste agreed. "So what do we do?"

Jack shushed her and pulled her back from the window a little. Celeste understood his intent was to move her away and out of sight, but she stayed in position to view what was happening on the other side; perhaps it was the all too human need for some level of independence or agency.

The window overlooked the alley. From one end a trio of obvious creeps came into view; two of them carrying what looked to her like Uzi's, though she didn't know much about guns. From the other end came the gorilla-bat that was, as far as Celeste could tell, the Prince's muscle or enforcer or whatever. The two creeps with the guns opened fire, laughing maniacally as the third creep howled at the moon like he thought he was a wolf or something. The enforcer didn't even blink. Instead, he raised one hand and produced a blue light from thin air, and then a pair of phantasmal wolves appeared behind the two gun men. The wolves pounced on the creeps and tore into them, reducing them into ash. The wolf-boy, realizing he was alone now, grew claws from his hands and made a desperate charge towards the enforcer. Again without even blinking, the enforcer waved his hand; this time the blue light shot out at wolf-boy and disintegrated him in mid step. Sniffing, the enforcer looked up at the window and saw her standing there like a moron, watching. His face wooden, the enforcer simply turned around and walked away. Celeste made a note to herself not to fuck with that guy.

Celeste looked around the hallway and saw that Jack was nowhere to be found. She couldn't really blame him for making himself scarce; if she had any idea what that enforcer could do, she'd have taken off too.

"Jack?" she called out, barely above a whisper. She walked down the hall and around the corner until she came to another door, which was also locked. Taking out her new and evidently very handy lock pick, she opened the door to an office. In the office was a desk with a computer, a filing cabinet, a safe, and Jack, who was standing near a broken window. On the wall behind the desk was a calendar, and on the other side of the desk another door.

"Oh, yeah, I found a short cut." Jack said casually. He indicated the door she came in."Nicely done, though; I take it you weren't exactly an angel in life, huh?"

"I had my moments." Celeste admitted. She opted not to go into details about how she learned to pick locks ten years ago. This didn't really seem like the right time to go into that.

"Cool. Now if you want a lesson on how not to act, take notes from those Sabbat assholes out there." Jack said, turning this bedlam into another quick tip session. "You're a big, bad vampire. Great, congrats, welcome to the club. Now keep it to yourself. You go around roaring and beating your chest...well, you know what you can expect."

"So I can forget about that shitlist I still got from high school?"Celeste asked, trying for a little levity. She was already starting to get the picture.

"If you wanna know why, it's the same reason you don't let humans see you feed. It's why the wolf doesn't want the sheep to know why he's there. It's also why you don't go juggling dump trucks down the Interstate or outrunning the 8-15 to Sacramento. It's why you didn't know any of this when you woke up this morning."

"I think I get it." She did, too. From the predator standpoint, it was made sense to keep your prey unaware. Also, there had to be a lot more humans than them, and humans could do daylight. Super powers wouldn't mean shit if they got hunted down and left in the sun.

"Keep our secrets secret and things are easier on all of us, kiddo. In the age of cell phones and digital cameras, fuck-ups aren't tolerated. It might not be a casual thing for a fledgling like you, but it makes sense enough, right?"

"Hold on," Celeste said, "what do you mean that mistakes aren't tolerated? What could happen?"

"You know that party back there with the suit and the gorilla; those pricks that put your sire to death? That's the Camarilla. They make a tidy business out of enforcing 'Kindred laws' like that one."

That was good to know. The Camarilla was basically the Vampire government. They were likely just as much the corrupt politicians and in general jackasses as their human counterparts, but still better than the alternative.

"So, what, this Camarilla are the vampire 'good guys' or something?" She asked even though she had an idea that a guy like Jack might not see it quite that way. It was clear at the theater that Rodriguez, his friends, and maybe that bored middle aged guy might not think so. Celeste wasn't sure about the bald guy on the balcony; he might be a power player that is critical of this particular administration.

Jack scoffed. "I'll tell you what I think some other time, maybe. I like to let people form their own opinions."

"Fair enough." Celeste conceded the point. Now was not the time to get into debate, anyway.

"Alright; now don't worry. I know this area a little." Jack said. "That door over there is magnetically sealed and we gotta through it. Look around and see if you can find a key someplace."

Celeste took a look around the room. The calendar had a photo of some mountains. There was a poster for a gothic band above the file cabinet. Beside the door and above the safe was a note that read 'password: chopshop'. She glanced at the computer. It was not exactly high security around here. This place almost deserved to get broken into, and when survival was the name of the game, sometimes you did what you had to do. That was clearly the point Jack was getting at tonight. After looking through the room and finding no key card, she checked the safe. There was no way she'd be able to pick it. The key card had to be in the safe, and the computer probably opened the safe.

Celeste cracked her knuckles. She wasn't precisely a computer wizard by any stretch of the word, but she knew a couple of tricks. As an experiment, she tried hacking the password. It wasn't quite that easy; no matter. She simply typed it in from the note on the wall.

The monitor approved the password, and welcomed Jack. Celeste looked over to where Jack was standing, watching the mayhem outside. Did he set this up himself? Was this whole thing staged for her benefit? Was this some kind of hazing or initiation thing? Or maybe it was a recruitment ploy.

"She gave her head a shake. That was a little far-fetched, and it didn't matter anyway; the simple fact was that this Camarilla group basically took a shit on her face and expected her to prove her worth to them while blinded by that shit. At least Jack was making sure she had some clue what she was in for. She typed in a command to open the safe. Inside the safe she found the key card.

With the key in her hand, Jack advised her take it and go back out into the alley while he checks things out from a different vantage point. Seeing as he got her this far, Celeste had no reason to question Jack, so she agreed. She unlocked the door and went downstairs to the alley.

The second she stepped out she ran afoul of two more Sabbat creeps with guns, and they opened up on her right away. One of the hit her shoulder, knocking her down just as Jack jumped down from the second floor behind the other one. He reached out and snapped that guys' neck, picked him up and broke his back over a knee. As the guy who shot her turned to face Jack, Jack flashed forward faster than she could see and sent the shooter flying with a single punch. The shooter landed at her feet and crumbled into dust and ash a second later.

Celeste got up and made her way towards Jack, who was cursing and swearing up a storm what waste of unlife the Sabbat were. He took one look at her wounds.

"Look at them potholes!" he laughed infectiously. "Those will heal up soon enough, better feed though." He sniffed the air. "There's someone down those stairs over there; he's not the freshest catch but he'll do."

"Wait, what's the difference? Blood's blood, right?" Celeste asked.

"Well, when it comes to feeding, it's quality you're after. Bums like that one won't pack the same punch as a healthy human will. Sometimes you gotta take what you can get, but what you really want is juicebags with a pedigree; that's the good stuff." Jack explained.

"Be careful, though." Jack warned. "This guy'll drain a lot faster than the first one, so don't kill him. You kill an innocent, even a worthless bum, even by accident, it'll take a little piece of your humanity and draw you closer to that Beast you got inside of you."

"The Beast? What's that?"

"The part of you that makes you what you are. The Beast is always there waiting to take over, and when it does it's completely feral; like a wild animal wearin' your skin. Desperate and reckless, it'll do anything to survive and leave you to deal with the consequences. So you gotta hold on to every shred of humanity that you got."

"So no killing at all?" Celeste asked. "Isn't that a little restricting?"

"I said no killing any innocents." Jack corrected her. "If some human levels a shotgun on you or something like that, you drain him, skin him and bash in his skull. Self preservation is still part of humanity, after all; my favorite part, in fact. The only way to fight the Beast is to keep in touch with your Humanity, and don't go hungry. It's a fine line."

"I think I get it."

"Okay then; go get him, kiddo. Remember to be careful, he's gonna drain fast."

Celeste said she'd back in a minute and headed down the stairs. Sure enough, some drunken hobo was stumbling around; by the smell of him, Celeste was pretty sure he wet his pants at some point. Sneaking up on him was easy enough, and taking of his blood worked pretty much like routine. His life was nothing like the first guy's, and left a bad taste in her; she was actually happy to let him go.

Jack was right, though; the feeding process did heal her wounds almost instantly. That was handy. She was also lucky that her dress wasn't damaged.

He went back up the stairs where Jack was waiting. He commented that she could do worse. As an example, he mentioned there were some rats in the alley. He even suggested she go give it a try. She did, and it was awful; kind of like chocking down left over fast food from one of the greasy burger joints. When she came back, Jack had a chuckle, calling her a rat sucker. In that second, Celeste was certain the rat thing was a hazing ritual for him.

"Hey, I don't care what you do, but so you know, polite vampire society usually looks down on that kind of thing." He said.

"After tasting that, I don't blame them." She said.

Amid the din of shouts and gunfire, there was a crashing noise nearby. Jack told her to keep it down; someone was just around the way. Celeste made an effort to focus her senses, and asked if it was just the one guy.

"Yeah, I think so." Jack confirmed. He won't be much of a threat by himself, but there could be others within shouting range. You're gonna have get past him, and I see no point sugar coatin' the truth. You might have to take 'im out, too."

"You mean, kill him?" Celeste asked, suddenly not so comfortable with the idea of killing; even out of necessity. Jack looked her over, assessing her response to the notion. Apparently satisfied that her humanity was still strong, he nodded slowly.

"Might have no choice, kiddo," he said matter of factly. "I'm not saying it's right or wrong; it's just the way it is for you now. Make no mistake; you're a creature of the night, one of the fallen and the damned. This is your new reality."

Celeste thought that over, and begrudgingly nodded in acceptance. It wasn't about good or bad, it was about necessity; she didn't have to like it, but she would have to learn to deal with it.

"Okay, if you have to, take him out quietly if you can. You see the building across from us with the garage doors? There a set of double doors on the other side. Go in there and I'll meet you inside."

Without a word, Celeste crept through the chain link gate and down the alley to where another Sabbat creep standing in some kind of vigil. She kept out of sight ling enough for him to move forward towards the doors she wanted to get through; he walked right past her hiding spot behind some crates. The minute he was within reach Celeste sprang out from behind him and snapped his neck. Much to her shock, he disintegrated into ash; she didn't think he would go so easily. In the ashes at her feet, she noticed a tire iron; the creep must've had it on him before she killed him. She crouched down and grabbed it. It could come in handy. Tire iron in hand, she entered the doors that Jack directed her towards and found him waiting in a hallway.

"You did what you had to do, kiddo," he said. "The sad part is you'll probably get used to it before too long. Hey, I never said the whole deal was rosy."

"That's true."

"Yeah. Now listen, there's more of 'em inside here. That Shovelhead you just dusted probably just got separated from the rest of his pack, and he was wounded, too. My bet is that he was even greener than you. See, the Sabbat don't have the most stringent of recruiting policies. They like to whack people over the head, turn 'em and then turn 'em loose. That one is lucky if he even knew what he was."

Blown away at the entire idea, Celeste said nothing. When she thought about it, though, that didn't seem terribly different than what LaCroix was trying to do to her.

"Like I said, it sounds like we got another pack movin' in. The Sabbat are going all out tonight. It's probably best if we take cover underground; avoid stray bullets."

"Sounds good to me."

"Alright, go on downstairs through that door there. I'll be there in a minute. Keep that tire iron handy just in case." Jack said.

Celeste went through the door and down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was another door which opened to a hallway, at the end of which was a cop standing guard.

"You! Don't you move! Identify yourself!" The cop demanded. "Are you involved in all this? I'm going to radio this in and get SWAT all over this place!"

That was the last thing any of them needed. Celeste had to think of something fast. Going for the kill was not option; the poor guy was just trying to do his job, and she was pretty sure killing a cop was bad for their cover anyway. She had to figure out a way to talk her way around him.

Couldn't vampires hypnotize people? Maybe she could try that. Or at least try to bluff her way out.

"Is that any way to talk to your superior, officer?" She asked. With an effort of will and blood, she exerted her will onto his. For an instant, the cop got a befuddled look in his eyes, and then it cleared away, though it was evident to her that she had him in a sort of like trance.

"Oh, sorry, ma'am." He said. "I didn't recognize you."

"I'll let it go this time," Celeste said, carrying the ruse, "because we have way too much chaos going on out there right now. Speaking of which, why are you down here? You're needed upstairs and outside! Move it officer!"

"Yes, ma'am, right away!" The cop exclaimed, and he ran through the door and she could hear him making double time up the stairs. Once she was sure the cop was clear, she carefully opened the door that led into a warehouse area of the building. There she saw a lone shovelhead; this one all shaggy looking. Shaggy turned and saw her. Growling, he charged her. Without even thinking about it, she threw her right hand out in front of her, and a missile of her blood flew out, striking Shaggy squarely in the chest. This strike knocked Shaggy back, nearly taking him off his feet. Then another missile came back at her, and hit her; but instead of hurting her, she absorbed it and felt better than she did before. Celeste used the opportunity to mount a charge of her own. Before Shaggy had a chance to defend himself, Celeste bore down on him with the tire iron, landing blow after blow until he fell to the ground.

"Tremere bitch; Usurper..." Shaggy muttered as he crumbled into ash.

Jack rushed in through an adjacent door, saying he couldn't tell for sure what was going on anymore. It sounded to him like the Sabbat were getting scattered, but she should be careful as there could be a few holed up. Then he said he was going upstairs again to try to figure out what was what

Celeste carried on through the warehouse; she was currently in some sort cluster of offices and maintenance rooms, and had no idea if anyone else was around. Focusing her senses, she applied some of her blood and discovered she could see things she never could before. In the next room, for example, she could see through the walls and detect a pair of halo- like humanoid shapes. One of old classmates once told her about auras; this is what she imagined she was seeing now.

Carefully, she entered the next room. Right away she could see the first shape was a tough girl wearing a tank top and a bandanna; the other shape was just that; a shape standing perfectly still. The tough girl was watching the door opposite the one Celeste entered through, apparently oblivious to her presence. The unknown shape still didn't move, so she couldn't be sure if that one noticed her or not. Either way, Jack wasn't kidding when he said these Sabbat Kindred were mindless.

Tire iron at the ready, Celeste charged into the room, right in the middle of the two shapes, meaning to land at least one blow on each before they even knew what hit them. Once again, without any intent on her part, a power exuded from her, causing both the tough girl and the unknown shape, suddenly plainly visible as a female form that looked like a human rat to vomit blood uncontrollably.

Seizing the clear advantage, Celeste smashed the tough girl across the spine with the tire iron, forcing her to drop the baseball bat she was carrying. The Celeste hit her again, this time at the base of the skull, reducing her to ash. Celeste then pivoted to deal with rat woman, who had recovered from her unexpected illness enough to punch Celeste in the face, staggering her.

"Fucking Tremere whore!" Rat woman shouted. "I'll teach for stealing the Blood from our kind!" Then Rat Woman reared up to punch her again. Desperate, Celeste reached down, clutched the bat, and swung wildly. She connected with Rat Woman's forearm with a loud crack. Rat Woman cried out with a curse as Celeste swung again, hitting her across the jaw. Then she swung a third time, vertically, connecting with the top of Rat Woman's head. Rat Woman dropped to one knee and frantically shoved Celeste away, forcing her back several feet. Bat still in hand, Celeste met Rat Woman's charge and nailed her again on the collar bone, turning the Rat Woman into dust.

After that skirmish, Celeste was hungry; perhaps the use of her powers had used up some of her sustenance. That would make sense. She exited the room and into a storage room, where Jack was waiting.

"Here I was thinking it was Sabbat, and it turns out it's a bunch of human gang bangers trying to protect their turf or some stupid shit like that!" He giggled. "Still, they've probably seen too much."

"So... what do we do?" Celeste asked.

"Here," he said, handing her a revolver. "Take this. It's a fucking pea shooter .38, but a good shot or two will take down a human."

She took it reluctantly, thanking him.

"Well, I kinda want it back, so don't go dying or losing it or anything." Jack said. "Normally I don't use guns. They're noisy, clumsy, and practically useless against vampires, but we Kindred have to keep up with the times, and in Modern Day LA, that means comin' strapped."

"I hear you."

"Go on and clear them out. I'm going outside to make sure they're ain't any stragglers."

"Okay..." Celeste said. Taking an elevator up to the next floor, she quietly entered the warehouse. Right on the other side of the elevator door was one of the gangbangers that Jack was talking about. He whipped around and trained his weapon, also a .38, on her. That was all Celeste needed; now he was no longer an innocent. Knocking his gun aside, she pounced on him and bit into his neck and began to feed. He was better than the hobo, but nowhere near as good as the first guy. She did note that there was a bitter taste to this one; could that be an emotion thing, maybe? In the end, it didn't much matter to her. Soon her prey was an empty vessel, and she was sucking on a dry artery.

"Holy Shit! What the fuck is this?'"

She looked up and saw another gangbanger gaping at her in shock and terror. He had definitely seen far too much. She might be able to make him forget, but wasn't sure if she had the skill for that just yet. This guy was armed with another baseball bat, which he dropped once Celeste made eye contact with him. Faster than she thought she could move (though not as fast as she saw Jack move earlier) she raised the .38 and took a shot. Her shot hit the gangbanger between the eyes, dropping him instantly.

"Beginners' luck" she mumbled. Meanwhile, Jack sauntered in through the warehouse doors.

"And that's that," He said. "Just like that it's all over, kiddo. Everyone slinks back into their own little corners of the city for the night."

"That's it? It's over?" Celeste asked to verify she heard him right.

"Until the next night when the Camarilla finds some way to strike back; spin dodge, parry, and all that. It's how it goes; on and on and on..."

"Wait, so this is normal?" Celeste asked. "I'm already getting a headache."

Jack chuckled, almost paternally. "Well, to be honest, you joined the club at an...interesting time to say the least. Y'see, the Camarilla and the Sabbat are the new kids on the block around these parts. There's plenty of Kindred who already had their stakes in LA long before any of them came along."

"I see."

"Now we got every ancient Kindred rivalry playing out all over the city. That makes for a lot of tension, and a lot of fear. There are loads of jittery, high-strung predators clinging to their piece of eternity." Jack explained.

Celeste's mind raced. She had plenty of questions, but also a lot of what Jack was saying made a lot of sense. She had taken notice that even in the mortal world it seemed like more and more people were getting increasingly tense and stressed out. Was there a correlation between the two? It almost seemed there'd have to be; with two very different worlds running right beside each other like that, there'd have to be some kind spillage of some kind, even if one world was unaware of the other...

Outside, a car horn honked.

"Oh, boy, it sounds like they're looking for you out there, kiddo." Jack said. "I guess you got a cab to catch. I was hoping to fill you in on a little more, but...what the hell, I reckon you'll figure it out."

"Thanks for your help." Celeste said. "Here's your gun back." She handed Jack back the .38.

"If you make it back from Santa Monica, stop in at the Last Round; it's a bar here in Downtown. I'll catch you up on all the politics. Ha! That's the shit that will kill you!"

""The Last Round; got it." Celeste said.

"Good luck, kiddo," Jack said as he left out the back door.

Celeste exited the warehouse and got into the cab that would take her to Santa Monica. On the way, the driver said he already had instructions as to where he was supposed to take her; some kind of safe house that was already paid for. He then handed her a set of keys: One for an apartment, and one for a mailbox. Both of them numbered 508. Celeste, out of habit, made a mental note that the numbers, if taken as individual numerals, would add up to 13.