Update: Sorry for the delay everybody. I took a quick break from writing, among other things, but I'm back now. If you read my story, please enjoy, and feel free to write a review if you have any critiques or would like to tell me what you enjoyed. I started this story to improve my writing, so any advice is greatly appreciated.

Chapter 10: New Hobbies

Loud shouts and raucous laughter erupted from around the room. Gary's bar was usually a quiet and relaxed bar. Not tonight. Max left the rowdy table to their joviality and continued mixing the Vegas bombs they had ordered.

It had been a week since he had visited Chuck. Enough time to lay low while Gary set up the meeting with his contact. Max had returned to stay at the bar, preferring the company of the Thinbloods to Chuck, who was often less than hospitable in the ways that counted. He laid the drinks on the counter for Elmira to take to the table. She flashed him a smile before putting the drinks on a tray and sweeping off.

Her friendliness was a good sign. As welcoming to him as she had been, he had worried after returning from Chuck's. Elmira had been waiting outside the bar, accosting him before he could get inside.

"Mind telling me how the Monster of New Orleans knows your name?" Arms crossed, a stubborn set to her jaw, all he could do was let out a confused grunt.

"Know me? How would that thing know me?"

"I don't know, but it said, Hello Max shortly before breaking Baeric's arm and slaughtering Camarilla agents like they were Orcs in Lord of the Rings."

"I don't know, that's the problem. That's what I'm trying to find out." It had been a lame explanation, even if it was the truth.

An order printed behind him, bringing back to the present. Bloody woman, she asked for the truth. It's not my fault I don't know who the fuck I am. He felt frustration bubble out of him. Max understood where she was coming from. He wished he could answer her. He wished he knew why the Monster was on a first-name basis with him. But he didn't. Elmira hadn't questioned him again, but the curiosity was still there, he could see it in her eyes.

Max turned around and grabbed the order, a Bloody Mary Deluxe. A rather obvious cover for a drink made of blood, but it's often best to hide in plain sight. He sighed, pulling out a bottle from the bottom of the fridge. Max had made only three of these drinks since he began bartending here. Instead of the usual concoction of liquor and mixers, the drink was entirely blood. Often a cover ordered by Kindred who wanted to meet with Gary. Elmira would deliver the drink and get the reason for coming. She'd then let Gary know why they were here, and he would decide if it was worth his time. The drinks often went untouched, but the boss insisted they make them for their guests anyway. Kindred hospitality. Perhaps Chuck had been onto something.

Of course, he knew exactly which table had ordered the drink. It was easy, almost second nature to spot Kindred among humans. Like spotting the sports car in a line of sedans. He had no doubt Elmira had spotted them as well. Why the drink order was necessary was beyond Max's comprehension, but if there was one thing he had learned of Kindred, they were sticklers for procedure.

Elmira swooped by to pick up the blood and promptly delivered it to the table. He watched with interest as the burly Kindred said a few words to Elmira. As predicted, she peeled off toward Gary's office. The broad man wore a denim jacket with an upside-down A patched on the back. Max had seen his type in here before. All too often of late.

The man waited patiently for Elmira's return. When she did, he rose from the table and headed towards Gary's office. His drink had been left untouched. What a waste.

Meetings in the bar weren't uncommon, but Gary often left the bar. When he left, he put Baeric in charge. Max had asked the stolid Thinblood where Gary went, but the only answer he got was, "Business." At least when Baeric was in charge there were less fights. The stocky veteran's idea of managing was standing with crossed arms, shooting hostile glares at every table. Baeric was not one for desk work, which was why Max liked working with him. The bar was always quieter under his sharp gaze.

Max enjoyed a lot about his new home. Vinny had been strangely absent, only coming in late at night with no explanation on where he'd been. Max didn't pry too much. He liked Vinny, considered him a friend, but Vinny was entitled to his privacy. Baeric and Elmira had been very friendly. They had watched a few movies together; their cinematic knowledge was quite adept. Elmira had even taken him line dancing the night before.

Gary had given him a job as a bartender, perhaps in the hopes Max would join his Thinblood revolution. The offer seemed more tempting every moment. He felt himself falling into the deal without ever even agreeing to it. It didn't make him anxious, it felt right. Overall, he'd felt a sense of normalcy return to his life.

He had even met with Sarah again. catching him while he was taking out the trash behind the bar. He had thrown the bag in, turned, and there she was. As if she'd been following at his heels like his shadow. Preposterous of course, but at times she appeared from nowhere, stealthier even than Vinny.

"Enjoying life, I see." She raised an eyebrow and smiled, face was still marred and ruined, but Max found he noticed it less and less with every encounter. He also noticed and took pride in the fact that she didn't feel the need to hide her face completely. The hood of her grey jacket was still thrown up. It was a small, but noticeable step.

"What can I say, you were right. Without a job, the days go on and on."

She nodded, "Just make sure you don't get too used to feeling normal. Remember what you are. It's okay to feel human, but remember you aren't." The words had shocked him. They mirrored what Chuck had said.

"Your meeting's soon, isn't it?" Max nodded to her. "Has Gary told you about him? I mean the Kindred you'll be meeting?"

"Rron? Nothing other than he's dangerous and well informed."

Sarah nodded, "Dangerous and sly, don't trust him." She frowned slightly, debating something with herself. "Whatever you do, just don't dr…- acchhh!" Sarah choked mid-sentence. Doubling over and coughing like she had a furball stuck in her throat.

"Dammit, I can't even…" Her tiny body shuddered as the coughing fit ended. "I really hate that," she rasped. Max moved to help her up, but Sarah waved him off.

"I'm fine, really," she slowly stood on shaky legs, trying to regain her balance. "It's a… condition I have."

Condition? Like an illness? He hadn't known Kindred could have physical illnesses. He frowned at her. Muttering a quick apology for scaring him; she was always extremely polite; she left him standing there. Wondering what she had been trying to tell him.

Curiosity peaked by Sarah's sudden fit, he asked Baeric and Vinny, both of whom shrugged, just as perplexed as he was. When he told Elmira about it, she only made a soft cooing sound, followed by "Poor girl." But even she admitted to never having heard of Sarah's condition.

Gary's answer was the most confusing. When Max asked him, he just pursed his lips before giving Max a sad smile and telling him that it was best not to interfere in the business of Kindred outside your Coterie. That had pissed Max off. He wasn't being nosey, just concerned was all. He itched to ask Chuck but was hesitant to do so. Their last meeting had been tense. Chuck didn't part with information easily and seemed to lord his superior knowledge over others. He believed Chuck's reasons for helping him, but Chuck wasn't interested in friendship or comradery. Max got the feeling that Chuck would sell him out the second those voices told him to.

The night of the meeting he woke up early. Or what was considered early for Kindred, 8 p.m. sharp. The sun was still up, but the windows were taped over, and curtains drawn tightly. He exercised, showered, and dressed in the black suit Chuck had given him. The suit was slightly damaged and torn in several places. Perhaps he'd return to the tailor. But it had been washed and was presentable. If anything, the small tears gave it a hardened savage look that appealed to him.

Around 8:30p.m. the sun finally fell below the horizon and Max made his way upstairs to the bar. The day shift: human workers, had gone home. They never questioned why the night shift all slept in the basement. Gary claimed they just didn't notice, but according to Baeric, the Christmas bonus Gary gave out every year went a long way in helping them 'not notice.'

At 9p.m. Elmira found him reading at the bar. Baeric was bartending, but it was a Wednesday and Elmira was off. She sat down next to him and ordered the Bloody Mary Deluxe. That made him look up from his book curiously.

"We have bags of that stuff downstairs," he said nodding to the drink. "Why go through all the trouble of ordering it?"

"Why not? A lady isn't allowed to sit at the bar with a drink and feel normal?" She gave him a mischievous smile, "Besides, you ever wonder how weird you look, always sitting here without a drink?"

Max chuckled, "Fair point, Sarah mentioned something about living, but not pretending to be human."

"Sarah is a smart little girl, but that's the kind of wisdom you gain being 13 for 60 years."

Max grimaced, "60 years?" He whistled, "That's something else." His heart went out to her. She had never had the basic experiences of growing up. Maturing in the world. Instead, she had been tossed into this guttural underworld where killers competed for control over one another.

"That's hardly anything compared to others. Some elders remember the dark ages. Others remember the crucifixion." Elmira swirled the contents of her drink around, a pensive look on her face. "Though if they're that old, they're probably sleeping in Torpor."

"I don't know if this is rude to ask, but how old are you?" Max asked.

Flashing him a grin she said, "Me? How old would you guess I am?"

Max looked her up and down. She didn't seem grossly out of touch with today's fashion, she knew pop-culture movies and books. Physically, she was at least 21, more likely 24 or 25. Elmira was his friend, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings, better to lowball the number.

Max pursed his lips thoughtfully. "If I had to guess, I'd say you're 40." He waited with held breath for her response.

"Close, but I'm 35 technically speaking. I was born in the 80s, grew up in the 90s, and I was bitten when I was 26 and still single. Working as a secretary for a small security firm in Austin Texas."

"And how did it happen?" He asked tentatively. "How you were changed I mean."

Elmira gave him a pleasant smile that sent his heart racing for some reason. Was that okay to ask? For all I know, I asked her the Kindred equivalent of how she lost her virginity.

Well, let's see. I worked for a guy named Michael Lauzon. Like I said, he ran a security firm out of Austin Texas. The job paid very well considering I was a 26-year-old with a bachelor's degree in Poli Sci. It was easy enough, but Michael…, rubbed people the wrong way. He was an asshole who sticked his nose where it didn't belong. Even made a few passes at me until I forcefully shut him down." Elmira's face grew pinched as she scowled. "He still made…, comments, but the pay was good, and I was saving money to go back to college."

Max nodded for her to continue. "It's like I said, he was always sticking his nose where it didn't belong, and I guess he finally stuck it in the wrong place." She paused, expression growing dark. "It was late, after hours. I had to go back to the office because I had forgotten something. I walk in and I see the light in his office is still on. Not unusual, but my desk is next to his office. So I walk over to grab my things and I see his leg, the rest of him was hidden behind the door."

Frowning she admitted. "I'm not exactly proud of what I did next, mostly because of how stupid it was. I mean he's lying on the ground, I thought maybe he had had a heart attack or something…"

"What happened next?"

"I open the door and…, and the first thing I see is the blood. All over the carpet, all over my boss's white shirt, and all over him. The man crouching over my boss, he just looks up at me and says, "You're not supposed to be here.""

"He jumped at me. All I remember is him going for my throat and getting it, and then I woke up."

"He didn't just kill you?" Max asked.

Elmira shook her head, "No, I think he felt bad. Whatever my boss did to piss him off, it was between them. I just got in the way. After he killed me, he drained me, and fed me his blood, then ran off in shame."

"Your boss had it coming, sounds like he was a real asshole."

"Ohh he was an ass sure, but the pay was good. I should have just gone home that night, but…, well you know what they say about cats and curiosity. I was always more of a cat person you know." She sighed, staring off into space.

"And him?" Max nodded to Baeric. "It's obvious he's served, but for all I know, he's a vet of World War 1."

Elmira laughed, "Iraq, but close guess."

Eyeing Baeric behind the bar he asked, "What's his story?"

"You want to know; you'll have to ask him yourself."

Max looked at her doubtfully. "Ask Baeric? That'll be the shortest story I've ever heard."

She chuckled again, "Yes, well Baeric isn't known for lengthy antecdotes. Which reminds me, you've got a meeting tonight."

"Yeah, Gary finally got the location, only a matter of time now. Any tips?"

"Keep a cool head and a low profile," Elmira said. "Most Nosferatu aren't like Sarah. They're bitter resentful creatures, desperate and unfortunate souls leading a tortured existence. And that makes them dangerous."

"Now if you don't mind," she rose from her seat. "I have to get going. Vinny's off tonight and he promised to take me dancing." Finishing the drink, she promptly left the bar, leaving Max to his thoughts.

He wasn't worried about the meeting, just anxious for it to be over with. He was ready to find out what had happened to him. The full story this time, no half-assed dreams.

The meeting place Gary had given him was a remote location on the very fringes of the city. A dirty and abandoned landfill that reeked of decaying matter. It wasn't to his liking at all. Max preferred classy bars or restaurants, preferably with people in them who could act as witnesses in case things grew heated. Nosferatu were a different breed it seemed.

He trudged through the filth toward an abandoned fridge that had turned a sickly yellow. Pulling up short, he took in his surroundings. It was a clear night with an open sky. He saw three crows perched upon a rusted truck. Looking up Max spotted four more of the birds circling above him, an ominous looking omen.

The spot where the meeting was to take place was a bowl in the landfill. Junk towered above his head on every side, obscuring his vision of what lay beyond. The perfect spot for an ambush, Baeric would have said. Max frowned; this had the feeling of familiarity. The person he was meeting had done this, many times before. What better place to hide a body than a landfill, he thought darkly.

Despite his reservations, Max was determined to see the meeting through. He was already here. Besides, nothing would get done if he didn't find out what had happened to him. Max was so lost in thought he didn't notice the man in front of him until he spoke.

"Gary sends me you?" A raspy voice sounded.

Max had mentally prepared himself for the man's disfiguration and was glad he had. The left side of the man's face drooped downward almost comically. It looked like a painting that had been smeared. His thin red lips contained the only color on his incredibly pale face. If death wore a mask…, he thought.

Max flashed a smile at the man, not allowing his sudden appearance to draw out a reaction.

"You must be Rron, it's a pleasure." Max extended his hand and the Nosferatu accepted it. Wrapping unnaturally long pale fingers around his palm. Max refrained from gasping at the ice-cold touch. From what little he had learned from Sarah, it was best to treat Nosferatu normally, and not let them know that their appearance bothered you.

Rron frowned at his smile. At least, Max thought he was frowning. It was hard to tell when half his face sagged like a puppet without strings.

"Gary called in important favors to get you this meeting. I suggest you make the most of it, youngling." Rron said.

Even his voice sounded like sludge sliding through a sewer, slimy. This is Sarah's boss? Try as he might, Max couldn't picture this creature and the shy young girl working together.

"Introductions first, I hear Kindred are sticklers for manners. The name's Max." He withdrew his hand from Rron's icy grip. Rron gave him a cold smile.

"Ohh yes, I know who you are, though I was told you were a Thinblood." His milky eyes inspected Max as if he were a fascinating bug. "It's not often I'm misinformed."

Max gave him a cautious smile. "I can see why Sarah thought that. I spend a lot of time with Thinbloods. Still, you can't believe everything you hear."

Rron continued looking him over, eyes thoughtful, questioning. Then his expression firmed. "What is it you want to know?"

Until now, Max hadn't understood Chuck at all. But seeing Rron, he understood why Chuck was such a cheapskate with what he knew. In this world, information was a commodity. A resource.

"I woke up with no memories of my past life. I want to know what happened to me." Rron cut him off with the wave of a hand.

"In due time, you will remember everything. You hardly need my resources for this." His voice held a hint of anger.

"So I've been told, but it's not that simple." Rron rolled his eyes, no doubt he had heard that a thousand times over. Max couldn't afford to lose his interest. I didn't want to give this away so soon, but I don't think I have a choice.

Rron opened his mouth to protest, but Max cut him off. "What if I told you my past is tied to the Monster? Whatever happened to me, that thing is involved." To Max's satisfaction, Rron openly gaped at this.

The info-broker composed himself quickly before saying, "That would be very valuable information if true. But all I have is your word."

The Nosferatu looked eager, but skeptical. It's a start, though. Now that he had piqued Rron's interest, Max could start reeling him in.

"Don't accept my word for it. When we were on that ship, the Monster called me by name. I wasn't the only one to hear it." Max said.

Rron considered him carefully, "The shipyard, yes. I had heard about that… incident. That Monster killed quite a few Kindred that night. He even ate two of them."

Max donned a troubled expression and muttered, "Horrible." He was in dangerous territory here. One slip of the tongue and there were any number of Kindred Rron could run to with his dark secret.

"Yes quite tragic," Rron mocked. "Taken out in the prime of their undead lives. What specifically do you want to know Max?"

Max hesitated before continuing. "My sire, I don't know who she is, or where she is." Max explained his dreams to Rron, what SHE looked like and what SHE had done to him.

The Nosferatu pursed his grotesque lips in a thoughtful scowl. "Her name is Mikayla Presonarr, a young ambitious member of the camarilla. She's from out west, Vegas I believe. She moved here for career advancements. Vegas is a nasty town."

Max took in the details like dry grass soaking in the rain. "Who is she really, though? What is she like, prideful, clever, arrogant? Where is SHE?" Max winced at the sound of his overeager voice, and Rron gave him a twisted smile. Looks like I'm the one who got hooked.

"She's driven, mildly clever, organized, beautiful, and Sadistic as you well know. She does own a nightclub called the Rose Petal. It's near Chalmette on the south side of town. Hard place to miss. Besides," Rron's smile widened, "You've been there before."

And Max had been there before. His dreams were fuzzy at best, but he remembered the neon sign. Remembered waiting in the parking lot sitting in his Camaro scared shitless. He had gone in, not because he wanted to, but because his friend had needed him to. Then, had come a feeling peace and bliss. That was the most fuzzy part of his memory, but what he had done at the end was perfectly clear. He could picture that without trouble.

"There's always some friction between Sires and there Childers." Rron said. "Mine is no exception, but Sires are meant to guide those they turn. Not…"

"I know," Max rasped. "That's why I'm going to end her." He had known from the beginning that this had been his goal, but it still felt good to say it aloud. To declare it.

"And how does the Monster fit into all this?" Rron asked.

Max hesitated, the Monster knew him by his name. Spoke to him as if they had been good friends. And perhaps we were, he mused.

"I'm still figuring that out for myself, but I swear I'll tell you when I do."

"I don't work for promises child." Rron said darkly.

"Gary already paid for this meeting, so my promise is going to have to do. And I still have more questions." Max said.

Rron glared but nodded for him to continue. "You know of touchstones, right?" Max asked.

"Yes, I'm very familiar with them. If you're asking who Mikayla's touchstone is, that's not something I know."

"Who? Touchstones are objects." Max corrected.

Rron shot him a bemused glance, but only muttered, "Of course, continue."

"My Touchstone," Max began. "I don't know where it is."

Rron threw back his head and laughed. "And I assume you want to find it?" Rron managed to ask. "The one thing you can't forget, and you don't know where it is, how wonderful. What is your Touchstone?"

This was the question he had been fearing the most. If Touchstones were as important as Chuck made them seem, then he would have liked to avoid telling this creature what his Touchstone was. But if he wanted his Camaro back, he didn't see any other choice.

"It's a 69 Camaro, black, and in great condition. It's hard to miss."

"I've made my decision Max," Rron said cryptically. Max arched an eyebrow. "I've figured out how you'll fit into all this. So tell you what, let's make a deal. I'll tell you where you're Touchstone is now. And when you figure out how the Monster fits into, you're past, you can tell me. If you do that," Rron held up an unnaturally long, pale finger. "I'll tell you more about your Sire."

"Gary already paid for-"

"WRONG!" Rron interrupted. "Gary got you this meeting. What I decide to tell you is up to me and no one else. Understand child?"

Max gritted his teeth but nodded. "Fine," he said. "Where's my Camaro?"

Rron stalked towards him, but he held his ground. "I've always been amazed," Rron said. "By how even the most trivial pieces of information can be so crucial to others."

"Are you going to tell me, or not?" Max was tired of these games. First with Chuck, now with Rron.

"Perhaps Mikayla cares for you more than you know Max. She's been seen driving around in your Touchstone." Max felt his stomach clench violently. Seeing the expression on his face, Rron smiled. "Don't worry, no doubt she's taking care of her trophy."

"Where is she?" It was the only question he could think to ask. It hadn't been enough to take his friends, his self-respect, his life. She'd taken his fucking Camaro too."

"Tsk-tsk child. That question wasn't apart of our agreement. I already told you where her club is. As for the rest of our deal. I'll meet you in one week's time from now. Sarah will give you the details."

"Rron wait-," Max began, but before he could finish the Nosferatu had disappeared before his very eyes. "Rron you bastard! Tell me where she is!"

The freeway stretched before him like a giant black snake, seemingly endless. Such roads had always made him feel free, but today Max felt trapped. Confined to this city. He had unfinished business, and even though he knew it was probably a bad idea, Max found himself inexplicably pulled toward the location of her club. He followed Rron's directions, but a small part of him already knew the way. And so, like a moth drawn to a flame, Max was pulled toward her club. Toward her.

The city offered many choices in clubs; New Orleans was the Big Easy after all, and Max soon found himself surrounded by flashy buildings blasting loud music. Lights flickered from the buildings. Illuminating people as they filtered past in varying stages of undress and intoxication. Beyond the clubs lay dark alleys and shadowed corners. Place's tourists would avoid if they were smart.

Max found somewhere safe to park the car. After crashing Gary's Cadillac, he felt his boss would appreciate the consideration. The street was far easier to navigate once on foot. Keeping his head down and his hands in his pockets, he set out. Avoiding interacting with any strangers.

I'm just going to look, he told himself. Anything other than looking would be suicide. He shoved his way past a couple arguing and a homeless man talking to a brick wall.

When he reached the edge of the street, he saw it. It was hard to miss. Located at the very end of the long boulevard, the Rose Petal was aptly placed. People would explore the various clubs, heading further down the street, until they arrived here. Even now, Max could see a long line stretching from the front door. Inwardly he cursed, it could take hours to get in.

A long, narrow alley extended toward the back of the club. The exact type tourists avoided, but Max wasn't a tourist, and he wanted to circle the club. Find another entrance, something discreet, he was hoping. When he reached the end of the alley someone was waiting for him. A woman with heavy makeup dressed in a short black skirt and a low-hanging top.

"You looking for a good time baby?" She breathed at him. Even from five feet away he could smell the liquor on her breath. Such women weren't uncommon in these parts of town, but he wasn't looking to draw attention to himself.

"No thanks, I'm meeting someone." He tried to brush past her, but the woman caught onto his shirt, clinging. Max tried to free himself, but she was determined. There was no way to free himself without getting physical, and that would only draw more attention, especially if she started shouting.

"Come on baby, you look lonely." She tried to grab onto his beltloop, but Max caught her hand and looked into her eyes.

Making his voice firm he said, "Look, you need to leave me alone. I'm meeting someone."

The woman froze, her eyes taking on an empty and vapid expression of admiration. "I need to leave you alone. You're meeting someone." She repeated. Confused, Max backed away. Hands falling to her side, the woman continued standing there, staring admiringly at him.

Is she okay? Most women in her line of profession didn't give up so easily. Unsure of what to do, Max said, "You can leave now, if you want."

The woman repeated, "I can leave now," in a breathy voice before walking back down the alley. The entire situation resolving itself without incident. Max marveled at what had occurred. Gary had mentioned that such powers were possible for him, but that he required a mentor to learn them. Yet, without training, he had compelled that woman to do what he wanted. With a power like this, he thought, I'll be unstoppable.

"Having fun Max?" The voice came from behind him, and he let a shocked gasp as he whirled around. There stood Vinny, cracking a lackadaisical grin. "What would Elmira say? Seeing you in a place like this?" He teased.

Shooting a frown at the young Thinblood, he said, "Not in the mood for jokes Vinny. I'm doing something impor-," Max shot him a suspicious glare. "What are you doing here? Is this where you've been going every night?"

Vinny gave him an innocent smile. "Well, I don't know about every night, but Gary has some ongoing business around here. Wanted me to check things out. My gut tells me he'll be very interested you're here."

Max hadn't planned on telling anyone his plan, but perhaps Vinny's arrival was for the best. He filled his friend in on his meeting with Rron. Told him the pertinent details of what had happened to Max. What SHE had done.

"You didn't think to bring along Elmira or Baeric?" Vinny questioned. "You know Elmira would throw a fit if she knew what you were doing.

"Of course, I didn't bring them. I wouldn't endanger my friends like that Vinny." The shipyard had been bad enough, but he had failed his friends in the past. They had gotten hurt, died. That wouldn't happen again.

Vinny narrowed his eyes but didn't challenge the comment. "So what? The plan was to walk through the back door and call Mikayla out like you're the lone ranger?"

Max hadn't really been sure what his intentions were. He just knew he had to see her again. If he saw her face again, it would somehow jog his memory, right? "Something like that, Vinny"

Vinny whistled before muttering, "And I thought I was the reckless one."

"Well I'm open to suggestions." Max spluttered. He was starting to realize just how recklessly suicidal he was being.

Vinny must have seen the expression on his face. "Well don't you worry pardner, deputy Vinny is here to help." The teens voice had taken on a western drawl that bordered on being offensive. "Deputy Vinny has done been casin this here honkeytonk goin on two weeks now. He knows the ins and outs, the comins and goins. You're in good hands pardner."

Grinning, mood already lifted, he asked, "Does deputy Vinny only talk in third person?"

"Naturally Pardner, he's the hero of this here story."

Max snorted, "And what would deputy Vinny recommend?"

"You mean besides getting the posse together?"

"If by posse you mean Baeric ane Elmira, then yes."

"Well besides gatherin other deputies, Sheriff Vinny recooomends usin the back door to get the lay of the land. Only one bouncer, it's discreet, and as long as you ain't planning anything crazy," Vinny shot him a piercing glance. "Then it gives you the best chance of not being seen by anyone you don't want to."

"Sounds perfect," Max said. He headed toward the back door, but Vinny caught his arm. Raising his eyebrows he saw Vinny blush.

"I'm not letting you go alone Max, but I can't get in, I'm not 21."

"No?"

"Well…" Vinny faltered. "Not officially. Turned when I was 17, and that was three years ago."

So young, he thought astonished. Vinny looked like a teenager, acted like one, but only 20? "So this will be your first time in a bar besides Gary's?" He asked. Vinny nodded.

"A special occasion for both of us then. But first we have to focus on distracting the bouncer. Lead me to the back door." Vinny did, winding around the large building until they came to a back entrance that was relatively empty.

"They don't typically let people in this way unless they're V.I.P.s. We're going to have to come up with a good excuse." Vinny said, eyeing the large bouncer standing by the back door. "You could do to him what you did to that, uh…, female entrepreneur back there."

"Entrepreneur? You mean the pros-"

"Yes." Vinny said. "Toreadors can use Presence to convince others."

"I didn't mean to use it. I don't even know how."

"Think about it," Vinny said. "What were you doing when it happened?"

Max thought, "I was just talking to her." He shrugged. "I looked her in the eyes and told her to fuck off."

"Looked her in the eyes?"

"Yeah, I-," and it hit him. He hadn't been able to command her until he had made eye contact with her. "I've got this Vinny." Strolling up to the Bouncer he saw that the man was fidgeting with an earpiece. No doubt he could alert other security with it. Standing well over 6'2" the Bouncer was as wide as a minivan. Max didn't let that deter him.

The bouncer saw him coming and straightened. "No guests through here. You want in you go through the front like everybody else."

"I'm not like everybody else. I'm a V.I.P." He spoke with an air of confidence.

"Your name?" The bouncer asked, looking him in the eyes.

"Max," he said, willing the bouncer to let him in.

"That's what I thought. Sir, you're going to have to go to the front like everybody else."

"Are you sure," Max tried gazing even deeper into the bouncer's eyes.

"Uhh, quite sure," the man looked deeply uncomfortable. Max heard a faint snicker from behind him. Reddening, he walked away.

When he had made it back to the alley, Vinny appeared before him. "If it's any consolation, I thought you did a wonderful job you're first time. You nearly had him. A couple more minutes and you would have gotten his phone number." Vinny burst out laughing, luckily the alley was still empty.

"Still working out some kinks," he muttered. "Let's see you do it."

Vinny gave him a wide smile. "Of course, watch and learn Maxy boy."

Vinny sauntered up to the bouncer and asked him a question. He was too far away to hear what. The bouncer bent down to talk to him. Without warning, Vinny ripped the earpiece away from the large man. He shouted after Vinny as the Thinblood rounded the corner of another alley. Looking torn between the door and the thief, the bouncer decided to follow Vinny into the alley.

Max cautiously walked towards the door, keeping one eye on the alley they had gone down. When he was five feet from walking into the club, Vinny trotted out waving the earpiece around like a trophy.

"Used Obfuscate as soon as he lost sight of me." The teen grinned at him. "Poor guy is probably still running after me."

Max chuckled, "After you, Vinny boy." Vinny put on the earpiece and stepped through the door with Max on his heels.

They passed through a large hallway with dim lighting. Doors on either side led to unknown rooms. Music blasted ahead of them.

"Now what?" Vinny asked. Max pointed toward the end of the hallway.

"First, let's get the layout." The music grew louder with every step. The club had a dance floor situated below the DJ booth. A bar lay on the far side of the room. Tabled balconies overhung it from the second story.

"So this is what it's like?" Vinny was nodding his head to the beat of the music. "I mean, Elmira told me what it's like, but this is even better."

The naivete of his friend made Max smile. "Sorry Vinny boy, but we don't have time to party."

"Yeah, official business and all. So what is the plan?"

"I wanted to see her face. Find my car." Max shrugged and walked over to the bar. The security was sure to be tight-lipped, but bartenders were always more social. He flagged down a girl behind the counter.

"What will it be, honey?" The music was loud, but he didn't have any trouble hearing her.

"Two gimlets, shaken please." He handed her sixty dollars and said, "Keep the change." He flashed her a grin and she smiled appreciatively as she went to make the drinks. It had been a long time since Max had done this. He had spent many nights in bars, clubs, at concerts. The people were always different, but the routine was the same. A bit of money, be polite, be interesting, and be interested in them.

The bartender came back with the two drinks. "I was hoping to meet the owner," Max said casually. "I like this place, I'd like to talk to her about some business opportunities." The excuse made him sound like a petty hustler, but Max doubted she'd care. He had already tipped her after all.

She tilted her head toward the balcony above them. "Not sure she's in, but her office is up there. Demi should be there if she's not."

He was about to ask her who Demi was, but before he could she flitted away to another customer. Walking back toward Vinny with the drinks, he began to think about what to do. If Mikayla was gone for the night, no doubt his Camaro was gone too. Still, Max wanted to see this Demetrius if he could.

A strange sensation prickled the back of his neck as he made his way across the club. Turning, careful not to spill the drinks he was holding, Max looked around. People weaved around him, bustling in a cacophony of motion. It was the lack of movement that caught his eye. On the second floor, leaning over the balcony, a large man in a grey suit stared down at him. His large black eyes followed Max. They seemed to be the only part of the man that moved. He's Kindred. Max had a bad feeling.

Turning, he tried to ignore the feeling that a lion was staring at the back of his neck. He shuffled through the crowd and made his way to Vinny.

"Took you long enough," Vinny teased, taking one of the drinks. Tipping the drink back, he took a swallow of the cocktail. Immediately, his face contorted in disgust.

"Why are you drinking it Vinny, you can't even digest it?"

Vinny looked down at the drink, nauseated. "It's my first drink in a club. That's an important… ACH! Important milestone." He took another large gulp and grimaced. "This is good Max, thanks." He managed to choke out.

Typically, Max would have laughed, but those black eyes were still too clear in his mind. "Behind me, on the balcony above the bar, what do you see?"

Vinny glanced casually above his head. "Nothing unusual, why?"

Already gone? Max had a suspicion that if he tried to visit Mikayla's office, the man in the suit would be there.

"We should leave," he said, "Now." Vinny must have heard urgency in his voice.

"I thought you wanted to explore, get the layout of the place?" Vinny asked, confused.

There was motion in the crowd to his right. People parted before a large man in a security uniform. Vinny's eyes went wide. No doubt he wished no one was looking so he could disappear. The man strode towards them, he wasn't Kindred from what Max could tell, but his presence didn't bode well for them.

Max wasn't going to wait to find out. As a waitress passed, he knocked over a tray full of drinks she was carrying. The glass shattered on the floor, barely audible over the music. The bouncer had to stop as people gathered around the accident, cutting him off. The waitress turned to yell at him, but before she could he grabbed Vinny and towed him toward the back exit.

"Not good Max," Vinny said, holding a hand up to the earpiece he had stolen earlier. "That guy put out our description. They're looking for us." He ignored the panic in Vinny's voice. They were striding down the hallway now. The back door was in sight. If they could just make it to-. A bouncer entered through the back door. It was the same one Vinny had stolen the earpiece from. He caught sight of the two of them and walked forward, hands up.

The man was far bigger than either of them, but only human. A large hand arced towards him. Max caught it before the meaty fist could connect with his face. The bouncer's eyes widened in shock. Before he could recover his wits, Max squeezed the hand and there was a loud CRUNCH! Followed by a groan of pain. He shoved the man hard, hoping to unbalance him. Instead, the bouncer went flying, crashing against the far wall and falling to the floor in an unconscious heap. Sorry bud, I don't know my own strength, Max thought.

The force and speed with which he had disposed of the bouncer surprised him. It must have surprised Vinny too. Max heard him mutter, "Jesus, that's what you can do now?"

"We don't have time to think about it," he said. Grabbing Vinny, he pushed through the back door into the cool night air. One step out of the bar was as far as they got. Before he could even register what was happening, pain lanced through his abdomen and he crumbled to the ground. The man in the suit stood above him like a tall grim, featureless skyscraper.

Vinny charged at him. The man barely glanced at the skinny teen. Waving his hand like he was brushing away a fly, the man backhanded Vinny. A loud SMACK! as Vinny hit the wall of the bar.

"Run," Max groaned, hoping his friend would listen. The man knelt, not even sparing a glance at his last victim.

"I am Demetrius, loyal servant to Prince of New Orleans. Who might you be?" The words were shoveled out in a thick accent that he couldn't place. European, maybe? When Max didn't respond, Demetrius grabbed him and let out a sigh of resignation.

He hoisted Max up against the wall, clutching his throat. The strength he possessed was terrifying. Like a bug caught in a spider's web, Max struggled vainly.

"This new world has no manners. Sires teach not their childers the old way. The way of civility." Max choked as Demetrius tightened his grip. "Copil obraznic. Tell me who you are. Are you with the Anarchs? The Sabbat?" Vision pulsing, heart racing, he tried to make sense of the man's words.

Growing desperate, he locked eyes with Demetrius and choked out, "Let me go, please." The words were simple, but Max willed them to be heeded. He needed Demetrius to follow the words. The kindred's eyes went momentarily slack as his grip loosened. Max began gasping in air as his feet slid back to solid ground.

"Pe Dumnezeu, a Toreador." Demetrius shoved him back into the wall and held him there, but his hand no longer constricted Max's throat.

Glancing to the left, Max looked for Vinny, but didn't see him. Good, I don't want him to die too.

"Who are you?" Demetrius asked. "A Toreador with unpracticed powers. Who is your sire?"

Frustration welled within him. This wasn't a fair fight. It seemed that no fight involving Kindred was fair. "My sire," Max growled. "You know her. This is her place after all." He waved a hand toward the club.

"You are the one elder Craz spoke of?"

Confused, Max held his tongue. There wasn't much he could do either way. Best to wait for an opportunity instead of trying to force one.

"Noroc copil," Demetrius released him and turned back toward the door.

"You're letting me go? Why?" Max asked incredulously.

Demetrius turned, looking over him curiously. "I have said already, new country does not teach old ways. Ways of wisdom. Where I come from abandoning a childer is punished by death. The Prince has given me orders, I will not interfere between Sire and Childer unless this stops me from carrying out his orders."

Hardly believing his luck, he turned to leave, to run as far as he could from this place. "Toreador," Demetrius called out. Grudgingly, Max turned back. "I will make my report. She will know of you. Know also, if you hurt my Prince I will break your body and leave you to dry in sun. This too is old way."

The threat was quiet, calm. Hurrying back to the alley, Max collected a wide-eyed Vinny and guided him to the car. The trip home seemed longer than it should. The words spoken to him, sounding like they were half advice half threat, repeated over and over in his head. He believed the grim bastard.

Love was an illusion, a lie. Love made you weak, vulnerable, desperate. She had seen it a thousand times before. Hell, she had felt it herself. The cold sting of bitter misery that swept through you like the freezing wind of the arctic. The dread. Hopelessly believing that they wouldn't die. Not them, they can't die. They're too important to die. Yet, there they go, ripped from your arms by the cruelty of others. It had been a long time since she'd felt the pain of Isaiah's death.

Better to be the boot than the bug, Mikayla thought. It was a rule she lived by. A philosophy she found pleasure in since the transformation. Like art, pain was beauty if done correctly. Take the young man she had buried alive for example. Through her deceptive ploy, he had murdered his friend's sister. The very person they had both been looking for. Pain inflicted by others was sweet, but nothing is sweeter than the pain that comes from failing those you love. Nothing is worse. Now that young man would wallow as a Kindred forever in his grave. Thinking of his failures. That had been true art. The sort that pleased her most.

The boy through the window fumbled with his broccoli. He was at that tender moment in his life where he was learning to use a fork. Like riding a bike, success could only be preceded by failure. She had to stop herself from making a soft cooing. The young boys mother wiped his face and helped him with the food. The toddler smiled happily. She savored every moment of this interaction.

A hatred for this weakness surged through her. She had found the child completely by accident. The mother and father had been leaving a friend's house at night. Strung between them, holding either's hand, the adorable boy who looked so familiar. The similarity between him and Isaiah had been so close, her jaw had dropped in confusion. She had almost taken the child then. Instead, she had followed the happy family home. Here, to this lovely townhouse. And now she watched, silent, as the boy lived happily, and was loved. Just as her son should have lived.

A small voice screamed at her to kill the toddler, that he made her vulnerable. She shoved the voice down. Drowned it in an ocean of desire for the child. It was her third time coming to watch him. And she knew that even if she wanted to, killing the child would be impossible now. The bond was formed.

As she was gazing down at the boy's happy face; he had just been served dessert, a buzzing issued from her pocket. Grumbling, she withdrew her phone. One day off in a month, and already I'm being called back.

She had four missed calls from Demetrius and a text from her grimy informer. The text read, An old friend is looking for you. You have something important to him. A touchstone. Mikayla frowned. It wasn't like Rron to give her information for free, vague though it was. She bit back the urge to ask for clarification. Seeming desperate wouldn't do. Instead, she called Demetrius. The old Brujah had little use for phones and even less motivation to learn how to use them. If he had called there was trouble.

The phone rang once before a graveled voice answered. "Seful, there was a problem."

"Tell me something I don't know," she snapped back. To his credit, Demtrius remained calm. He always did. In a voice as tranquil and smooth as summer rain, he told her what had happened. Mikayla wasn't calm. She was what nice people might call passionate, but only if they were being friendly. Throughout the conversation her hand trembled in rage.

"You let him go," she hissed.

"Seful, I am the Prince's servant, not yours." Demetrius answered in that intolerably calm voice. "Sires keep their childers in line. This is the way of our order. I suggest you keep yours in line before the Prince becomes involved."

Mikayla felt the phone crumble in her hand. Who was he to tell her what to do? He was a servant. A lackey. He would be taught his place, but first thing is first. Walking back to the car, she finally understood Rron's text. Trailing a finger over the black Camaro, Mikayla smiled. It wasn't a smile of happiness, rather it stemmed from the gleeful thought of how much pain this would cause him. What was his name again? She was drawing a blank, but it wouldn't matter soon.