Part 2: Societies in Shadow

Chapter 8: New Order

The clatter of heels echoed down the desolate hallway. Once the court had been filled with multitudes of courtiers and servants paying their Prince lip service. Mikayla chuckled at how fast those rats had scurried to the safety of their dens. The Monster was still at large, true, but it hardly warranted such a melodramatic reaction.

Still, their response hardly surprised her. This is what she had come to expect of her peers. The Camarilla was an ancient and feared institution, but, like any organization there came a point when the incompetency's of individual members outweighed its reputation. I will not allow that to happen.

She gazed up at the solid oak door. A well-oiled brown hue that emanated prestige and power. Mikayla grimaced in anticipation. Prince Goldemier is a wise elder who is more than capable of protecting our interests. My presence here is proof of that.

"We're ready when you are, my lady." Came the thick, graveled voice of her comrade, Demetrius. Hailing from the old countries of eastern Europe, Demetrius had worked for the Camarilla for over a century. How he had ended up serving for a prince in America, Mikayla did not know, but she was willing to wager his service wasn't a reward. Still, he had a large and muscular body, which made him an excellent Justicar.

Mikayla nodded and motioned him back. The kindred around him shifted nervously. So many, she thought. So many Justicars sent to detain one traitor. It was a bold move, half the court didn't know Justicars existed, and the other half talked of them only in fearful whispers. She hadn't ever even met one until the Prince had given her command of their order. Demetrius must have guessed what she was thinking.

"Elder Craz knows many things Seful. The very threat of his treachery must be dealt with swiftly and quiety."

"I'm well aware." Mikayla felt her face flush with anger and began stifling it. Demetrius had only been trying to assuage her fears, but his comment had made her sound hesitant. As if she were questioning her Prince's orders. Worse still, her emotions were easy to read.The fact that the Prince had trusted her with his Justicars was proof of her devotion and capabilities. Afterall, it wasn't every day an elder of the high council turned traitor, but he would soon know the swift hand of justice.

Mikayla pressed her ear to the door and listened. Her preternaturally acute hearing picking up the sound of two male voices. The first was undoubtedly the Elder Craz, the second was a harsh guttural voice she did not recognize. The voices were a low murmur that were almost impossible to distinguish.

"Yes, the Prince's… dead, but… in time for his…. Did the thinblood die?" Elder Craz whispered.

"No, Rron says he…. What truly… is what happened to…. He has…. No… no longer a thinblood." Said the harsh voice.

Mikayla leaned away from the door and steepled her hands. It seems Rron has been double dipping. She had been surprised the famed info-broker had chosen to reveal such deep treachery as a high council member, and at a relatively cheap price. We'll have to chat again soon, Rron. Just me and you.

The voices continued to murmur, but Mikayla didn't care to listen any longer. Soon she would question them both personally, in a fashion that was more her style. The corners of her lips cracked into a smile. They'll look so beautiful when I strip them of everything they have to hide.

Mikayla motioned for Demetrius and the others to take point. Dutifully, Demetrius strode forward and took charge. Six others positioned themselves behind him. Demetrius thrust his hand forward and the thick doors swung inward flying off their hinges.

She expected nothing less of a Bruha. He would be an effective tool for her. The Justicars filed into the room behind her. The elder Craz stood abruptly as she entered. His pudgy body rigid in shock as he stumbled backward away from his chair, bumping into a large mirror hanging from the wall.

"What's the meaning of this intrusion?" He demanded. Craz eyed Demetrius and his team warily. Mikayla scanned the room for the person Craz had been talking to, but she didn't see anyone.

Mikayla turned back to Craz and favored him with one of her wicked smiles. "Your yearly review Elder. It didn't go so well." She saw the fear in his eyes and waited eagerly for the usual begging to commence.

"I see, well if it's come to that." Craz placed his hands on his head in surrender. Mikayla frowned. She hadn't thought he would come so quietly, she had hoped…, but hope had no room in her job. She had her orders. Demetrius strode to the elder and detained him. Handing him off to the other Justicars, who started to escort him out of the room.

"Wait." Mikayla ordered. The Justicars stopped without hesitation towing Craz to her. Despite how well the arrest had went, something bothered her. "Your friend," she scanned the room again, but found it just as empty as before. "Mentioned a thinblood." It was more a demand for information than a question, and Craz gave her a small smile.

"Ohh, I think you'll soon find out about that without my help, Mikayla. Our dirty hobbies often have a way of coming back to haunt us."

She maintained a smooth face, but internally grimaced. Her penchant for entertaining herself wasn't a very well-kept secret at court, but she hated having it thrown in her face. It made her feel like a foolish child caught eating cookies before supper.

"The person you were talking to knew Rron. You'll tell me who they are."

Craz stared blankly at her, "Many people know Rron, he's an information broker."

Mikayla maintained her poker face, but felt her right foot tapping in frustration. "If you wish to play games Elder, we'll play them my way and you won't enjoy them." If her dirty hobby, as he had called it, was so obvious she would make use of it.

Craz looked away from her, "I see the Prince has chosen the perfect pawn to do his dirty work. Your job always required someone with a grimy soul. Now take me to where-ever it is I'm going. I have nothing left to say."

Mikayla motioned for the Justicars to lead him away. Demetrius sidled up to her, awaiting further instructions. "Search the room, see what you can find."

There was another voice, but whose? The room was in the central hall and was devoid of windows. Gazing around, Mikayla saw nothing but furniture. A desk and office chair, a bed, a mirror, and a wardrobe.

"Looking for something, sister?" Glancing at the door, Mikayla saw the court oracle, Sophia Dechart. Her silk grey robe brushed the carpet as she strode into the room. Her wild hair fell about her shoulders in a tangled mess. "Seeing the unseen is my specialty, you know."

Mikayla grimaced, she wasn't fond of the court oracle, or any oracle for that matter. "No doubt one of your visions led you here." Mikayla remarked snidely.

Sophia nodded ignoring the disrespectful tone. "Yes, I saw a man of glass sitting with elder Craz. Over them loomed a giant shadow with red eyes," she shuddered.

"Lovește demonii ăștia, tată." Demetrius chanted from her side. Mikayla nearly jumped, for such a large kindred he was incredibly quiet. Demetrius drew a sign in the air with his fingers and bowed his head. Demetrius did not share Mikayla's opinion about oracles; he was far more traditional.

"Undoubtedly you saw something," Mikayla admitted. "But whether real or fantasy, you Malkavians are prone to… fits." Sophia turned her back and strode toward the standing mirror. Tentatively, she reached out a hand and touched the mirror. She drew the hand back in shock as if surprised to find that it was solid.

Mikayla walked to her side. "Another vision or one of your… fits?" She asked. Sophia turned to Demetrius motioning for him to take the mirror off the wall. Mikayla stifled her anger at being blatantly ignored and waited. Demetrious hefted the mirror off its hook, revealing a blank wall behind.

"Ha," Mikayla jeered. "So much for your vision oracle." She turned triumphant to Sophia, but she was looking at the back of the mirror which was covered in runes painted in blood.

Demetrius took his finger and ran it along one of the runes then licked it. "Kindred or werewolf, maybe even a sorcerer's blood." Demetrius glanced between the two of them. "What does this mean?"

Mikayla sighed, "It means we're in big fucking trouble. Whoever was working with Craz knows blood magic."

Sophia nodded, "This is far beyond my capabilities. The Prince must be notified." She looked over Mikayla, who nodded. She didn't like taking orders from the oracle, but there wasn't much choice.

"Yes, of course. I will make my report right away." Mikayla grimaced as she turned away. As lead investigator of the Justicars, it was her responsibility to report any important findings directly to the Prince. The Prince did not take bad news well.

As her heels clattered back down the hall, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Blood would spill before this was over. Plenty of Camarilla blood too. There would be room to move up. Mikayla always welcomed progress, even at the expense of others.

Rron walked delicately through the discarded trash of the landfill. He was Nosferatu, and not ashamed of it like most of his kind. There was a brutal honesty about a life that one had to face as a despicable monster. His innate hideousness kept him away from the prying eyes of society.

This landfill was one of his favorite spots to meet clients. One of the only spots they can't find me. Looking up at the sky, he wondered why that was? Probably some discarded substance in the landfill interfered with their tracking tech. Information was his forte, but technology was one thing he'd never understand.

His client stood 20 feet away but gave no indication that she saw him. No one saw Rron unless he wanted them to. Even Nosferatu elders had marveled at his natural gift for Obfuscation. The client in question was a young Gangrel woman. An Anarch hoodlum if he had ever seen one. Her eyes flicked back and forth like she was trying to look in every direction at once.

So, on edge. Every Kindred in this city was on edge lately, and for good reason. The Monster had torn his way through Tremere territory, killed their ghouls, wiped out an entire Camarilla delegation, and diablorized a Nosferatu elder and the Grand-childer of the City's Prince. The Tremere are on the warpath, the Camarilla is cleaning house trying to find their rats, and the Anarchs are acting like a bunch of hungry dogs waiting to devour a dying animal. It all feels too, coincidental. Unseen hands were moving these pieces. Rron would find out who and why, as he always did.

He kept obfuscating, not ready to start the meeting. He walked around the Anarchs' representative and began scanning the area, looking for any hidden Kindred. Anarchs always traveled in pairs and soon he saw another figure taking refuge behind a rusted car. Grinning brightly, Rron positioned himself behind the young Kindred. Inwardly, he sighed, Another Anarch rat by the looks of it. Rron did business with everyone in this town, but he particularly disliked dealing with the Anarchs. They always sent their lowest ranked comrades to do business with him. Rron often felt like he was trying to sell a car to a child when he talked to them.

Rron deactivated his Obfuscate standing directly behind the Anarch and said, "Hello young one. Lost, are we?"

The kindred whirled around glancing up at Rron's horrifying visage with wide eyes.

"I…, I…," He made a choking sound, then gulped nervously. The female Anarch must have heard the commotion, and she appeared over the top of a pile of refuse and narrowed her eyes Rron.

"Relax dear children, did Harold send you?" The man before Rron continued to stare up at him unable to speak. Rron was slightly annoyed though used to such reactions. He turned his attention to the woman instead.

"He did, he wants to know what's going on with the Camarilla. They patrol less frequently and have stopped holding court. It's as if they've lost all interest in the outside world."

"Well, give Harold my regards. It's been so long since we've been able to talk. As for information, we haven't even discussed the issue of payment."

The man below Rron snapped out of his self-inflicted paralysis and backed away, halting beside his partner.

"We were told you owed Harold a favor," he said.

Rron favored him with a sly small, "A small one yes, but the Camarilla have visited me a lot of late. They ask such tiresome questions." Rron let that sink in, but he saw the two of them only stared blankly back.

Children indeed! He had his own problems with the Camarilla, but they always sent someone brighter. Eternal life did not grant eternal wisdom.

"You seek information about the Camarilla, they seek information about you. They pay better, and they've grown tired of me not answering." Rron looked between them and saw they were finally grasping the situation.

"What is it you want?" The woman asked.

"There's a bar on the west end of town called the Westside Hangover. I want you to find a man there by the name of Gary. Tell him you need a job done, that you need some reliable people to investigate the shady dealings of a local nightclub called The Rose Petal. Make sure to wear your Armbands." Rron looked at the black band with an upside-down A wrapped around their arms.

"That's it?" The woman looked warily at him, trying to detect a trap.

"Yes, do this for me and I will consider the information paid for. In fact, I'll even throw in a bonus.

"It's agreed then," the woman said nodding enthusiastically.

"Come back to me when it is done, and I shall give all the details you want about the Camarilla. I'll even give you a juicy appetizer before you go. How much do you know about the shipyard incident?"

They both shook their heads, but it was the woman who answered. "Not much, the Monster going about his usual business, but this time he killed someone close to the Prince."

"I'll let you in on a little secret then," Rron said. "The Camarilla found an Anarch arm-band at the sight of the massacre."

They stared at him blankly. "So?" the man asked. "Everyone knows it was the monster that killed everyone."

Rron sighed, Children. "Yes, it's too obviously the work of the monster, but who told the monster what was happening at the shipyard that night? An even better question is, who does the Camarilla think told the Monster to be at the shipyard?" He watched as their faces took on looks of horrified realization.

"Th…they…, they can't possibly blame us for that thing's actions," the woman stuttered. "There's no evidence."

Rron snorted in derision. "Yes, because the Camarilla needs mountains of evidence to attack you Anarchs, of course." Rron raised a questioning eyebrow at them. "The armband may be all they have, but that is all they need." He saw them open their mouths, to ask more questions no doubt, but he whirled around and began striding away before they could. "Fullfill our agreement and I shall answer your questions dear children. And give Harold my deepest regards."

Rron activated his obfuscate and traversed the landfill until they were far behind him. If they did as they were told that plan would bear ripe fruit. Besides, he needed something to preoccupy Mikayla. She had hounded him relentlessly since being appointed to her new position. She had the full weight of the Camarilla behind her, and they would tolerate his delays only so long. She would deal with the Thinbloods quickly, but it would give him time to think.

He came to an empty spot between two decaying trucks. He deactivated his obfuscate, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. There was no one here to watch him. He began to pace. Who was controlling the monster? It was a good question and the answer frightened Rron deeply. The monster must be extremely powerful to have given the city this much trouble. Besides the Prince or Harold DuBorn there was only one Kindred that had such power. And I've met him, Rron thought.

What a meeting that had been. Rron prided himself on his ability to not be found, but this elder Kindred had not only found his den but had been able to see Rron even when he was obfuscating! That had never happened to him. Rron shook his head. No matter how much he thought about it, it never made any sense. Unless…, Rron looked up at the sky and as usual, saw nothing. No, I don't think it's likely. Kindred didn't believe in their existence, he doubted any Kindred were working with them.

"Pacing again, is it the monster you're thinking about, or the Aliens?" A small figure said from atop a pile of trash.

"Hush child! They might hear." Rron's eyes darted fearfully around the sky, but it was thankfully empty. That doesn't mean they aren't listening.

His childer Sarah gave him a snide grin. "You said they were tracking you, not listening."

"I said quiet child." Rron felt his blood go cold as he gave the order. He saw Sarah go rigid before arching her back like a cat. Blood bonds were a nasty business, but very effective. Usually reserved for ghouls, they worked equally well on a childer with less blood potency.

Sarah snarled at him like a feral cat before regaining a modicum of composure. Her face smooth, all that remained were her hate-filled eyes, but as ordered she remained silent.

"I see you're back, does that mean you've done as I've asked?"

Unblinking, she nodded. "Gary was grateful for the tip-off, paid well. We sent his friends to be slaughtered, didn't we?" She continued staring at him, but Rron felt a fragility enter her.

He snorted, "Why, they are Thinbloods, besides Gary knew what he was messing with. It's hardly our problem he sent them on such a dangerous job.

"I know, but…," Sarah shook her head ruefully. "I knew, but I didn't stop them."

He enjoyed Sarah, but she could grow far too sentimental. "I would have thought you had learned this lesson long ago, child. The night you returned to your parents." Sarah grimaced in pain before glaring at him.

"It was you who made me this way. Not THEM!"

Rron favored her with a good-natured smile. "Ahh, but did I change who you were? No, only how you looked." Her hideous face fell, defeated. "But that was enough for them wasn't it Sarah? Remember what we are. We show no kindness because none is given. Even by those who are supposed to love us."

She lashed out in frustration, kicking at a discarded soda can. "It was the same with him too. He didn't know me, yet he couldn't even look at me."

"And who was this?" Rron asked

"Just a Thinblood, he made a deal with Gary, I think. At least, I saw them shaking hands and he went with the others to the docks."

"And what was your impression of him?"

Sarah grimaced, "He's rude, and he'd never seen a member of our clan before." She paused before asking, "Why does it matter, they're all dead anyways.

"They aren't. The Camarilla made no mention of Thinbloods. You'll have more than enough time to get to know him better. I want you to help oversee his adjustments in our world." If the Thinblood was who Rron thought, then his plan would bear even riper fruit than he had imagined.

Sarah's grimace turned into a pout. "I don't want to; I have other stuff to do."

"Ohh," Rron cocked an eyebrow. "And what else demands your time, or is there something you're hiding from me?" He saw her eyes widen in fear as she shook her head no.

Of course, he knew of her dealings, he was even proud she had the courage and initiative to conduct business behind his back. Her system of gathering information was a tad unsophisticated, but effective.

"Very well," Rron whispered. "Then go my little bird, become acquainted with this thinblood, and tell me anything of interest that happens." She nodded, but he saw a flash of defiance cross her eyes before the last word had left his mouth. Smiling inwardly, he gave the order extra emphasis. His blood grew cold, freezing his bones. He saw Sarah double over onto her hands and knees looking as if she were going to vomit.

"Please," she whined through gritted teeth. Yes, blood bonds were a nasty business, but they were effective. Rron smiled, he had no doubt that she would tell him everything she learned.