Chapter 23 – Rising Shadow

September 30, 2004 = Thursday

I rode my Harley down the street, hoping I was heading the right way. Griffith Street was actually an easy find not a few blocks away, so I turned south and found the overpass for I-10. I parked underneath it, pulling the key so it was less likely to be stolen. I looked around, seeing a few old abandoned cars, then I heard it.

Coughing.

I followed the sound to a guy leaned up against a building. He was drinking from a large bottle, and just downed the last of it before attempting to toss the empty bottle away only to have it fall beside him and not even break. I walked up to him, kneeling beside him as he tried to physically cough up a lung. He reminded me of Hannah, how she sounded right before she died, and I was glad I hurried over to find him. His eyes were already glossing over, and I shook him a bit to rouse him.

"Betty? That you?" he said, before coughing again. "I ain't got no booze tonight, so you may as well get out of here before you get sick too."

"It's not Betty," I told him, trying to keep him upright. "I heard you were kidnapped by a monster, Bill. I need to find him, so where is he?"

"I might be able to tell ya," he said, coughing again. I couldn't help but notice the thin red line form at the corner of his mouth. "But I'm awful thirsty tonight miss, and I done run out. Spare five bucks for a man down on his luck?"

"Sure," I said, trying to sound happy when I was pissed. This damn plague didn't need to be, and another one was about to die. I pulled a bill from my bag and held it up. "Just tell me where."

Bill started to laugh, but quickly turned into coughing. "He came up out of that manhole down the alley," he said, barely lifting his hand to point towards it. "I been watching for him, see if he comes back out, but he hasn't showed yet."

"Thanks," I said, handing the man the money. The man tried to stand, but ended up falling back against the wall.

"I think I need a rest," he said, his eyes rolling back in his head. I laid him back against the wall, where he seemed to pass out. He was still breathing, so I let him sleep peacefully while he could.

I went over to the manhole cover, using my potence to lift it and set it aside. This didn't seem to be a sewage line, to which I was thankful for, but a utility maintenance line. The room it opened up into was bare concrete, with anything beyond lost to the shadows, so I switched over to my shadow vision. I could see the room much better now, so I continued on, heading down a dark corridor for several hundred feet before coming on a set of steel bars that looked more reminiscent of a set of prison bars with a swinging door.

I pushed on the door to find it unlocked, and headed through into a large, dimly lit room with corpses hung on the wall, entrails spilling out. I walked into the room, and a man misted into existence in front of me. I could tell by his grotesque appearance he was a Nosferatu, dressed in ragged pants with no other clothes visible and an earring hanging from a leathery ear, but his skin was pulled so tight over his head it was ripping apart, revealing the pink flesh beneath.

"Found your way down here, did you? Looking for a free meal, little bloodsucker? Follow the smell of entrails and rotting flesh to my kingdom?" he said, almost growling every word. He was probably American, but his growling voice made it hard to tell if he was local or not.

I looked around my surroundings, at the various bodies strung up on the walls and decided it truly was a cult. But why hang them up like this? So I asked, "What's going on down here?"

"The doors have been opened, the seals broken, and the final steps into the abyss; the terrible mysteries of the ninth circle!"

I laughed a bit. "You know nothing of shadows," I told him, my anger at his callous regard for life causing the room to darken around us. He sneered, at me, then pulled a piece of paper from behind his back.

"The darkest dawn is almost upon us! Join us in these last nights, spreading our disease upon the earth, and share this unholy communion with our human herd!"

"You got a name I can tell the Scourge to collect on your masquerade breaking hide?" I asked him.

"Brother Kanker, they call me. High Lord in the diseased halls of the dead. Look around you!" He said, waving his arms at the hanging corpses, "The blood, the maggot-ridden mortal shells, These are the signs, the coming of a new age!"

I pulled my pistol from its holster. "I think it's time someone pulled your card."

He charged me, and I barely got my gun up before we were grappling on the floor. Surprisingly, he wasn't as strong in his potence as I was, and I managed to line the gun up with his face before he did something unexpected. With me using all my force to line the gun up, he suddenly yanked my arm in that same direction, and I felt my shoulder pop out of place.

I kicked him away, screaming from the pain. My gun fell from my now limp arm, and I rolled to my knees. Kanker came up, grinning wickedly at me as he saw me practically defenseless on my knees. I smiled, pulling on the shadows, intent on enveloping him in the darkness so scary that it could kill. Kanker saw the shadows start to envelope him and he tackled me, pulling me in along with him.

In the inky blackness, Kanker screamed at something he saw and I rolled free, my right arm still useless. I looked around, seeing a man walking towards us. He was tall and lithe, with white milky skin and long dark hair. His eyes were black pits of blackness, and he caught Kanker in one arm, lifting the Nos into the air as if holding a winning ticket.

"You, are a diseased sewer rat," the man told the Nos. He gave a shake of his hand, and the Nos crumpled to ash at his feet. I stood as the man approached me, and I couldn't help but feel fear. I was sure I'd never seen him before, but yet he seemed so familiar to me.

"Should I know you?" I asked him, not sure if I should try to communicate with him or not.

"You should, young one. You intrigue me," he said, walking around me and studying me closely. "You have done by accident what few do by intent. And here you are again in the Void, facing me."

"And yet you have not given me your name. What might I call you?"

"I was known by many names, and you carry one of those names still, childe," he said, his odd accent hinting to Europe. I tried to think, why would he be familiar, and have a name I carry?

"You're Lasombra?" I breathed, as he came to stand back in front of me. He nodded, then grinned at me and scared me down to my soul.

"My own childe, Montano, banished me here. I was blinded to the true nature of the Void then, and let it happen. That was many centuries ago," he said, drawing his words out. I tried to figure his intentions, then decided to just ask.

"So, what do you want from me?" I asked him.

"I wish to be free of this prison. My power is limited here. I can see out, but I cannot affect the events that are unfolding. I will be free of this prison, young one, and you will be my vessel to freedom."

I stepped back, afraid of what he might do. "And how do you intend to bring this about?" I asked him.

His smile deepened, and then with a sudden movement jumped towards me. I never felt him hit me, but my beast suddenly roared to life, crawling through my skin from my hair to my toes. I clawed at my skin, but there wasn't anything to grab hold of. I could feel something in me, and I fell to my knees as things in me felt like they were shifting. I struggled with the pain, and soon it eased, leaving me very hungry.

I rose from the ground, dusting myself off. I turned to leave, when my I heard a paper crunch under my heel. I picked it up, finding it said 'I am enlightened' in fancy script. There was a large drawing in the middle of the page, and I couldn't help think that it might be a way of identifying the cult. It was a bloody star, with a fanged skull in the center of it, and I stowed it in my bag, then left the Nos's lair.

My bike was where I left it, and I put the key back in it and started it up. I started to cruise the streets, checking for that symbol. It was likely to be ignored as graffiti, so I went slow, finally finding it after almost an hour of searching. I ducked down the alley it was marked on, finding that there was a door that had the same mark on it about halfway down. I parked my bike next to it, then went in. It looked like some sort of old doctor's office, with run down chairs around the wall and large glass windows with one of those teller slots in the middle one.

I walked to the slot, finding a dark-skinned man behind the glass waiting for people to arrive while he read a book. He closed the book as he noticed me. "What's up, sister," he said, eying me. "You enlightened?"

I pulled the flier I had and slipped it through the slot, as I looked at the shadows behind him. Somehow I knew I could just jump straight out of it if I wanted. The man looked at the flyer before setting aside. "I see. The Bishop is upstairs. He'll be seeing you now."

"Is the Bishop the one in charge of everything?" I asked him, wanting to make sure all the plaguebearers would be stopped, or if more were out there.

"He is. The kindred of the city aren't very welcoming of his message, so currently it's just him, Brother Kanker, and Sister Celeste."

"Well, thank you for that information, ghoul. But I'm here for the Bishop, and I'll take care of Celeste later," I said, and his face went slack as he realized what I was here to do. I jumped through the shadow, coming out behind him and knocked him against the glass as he reached for something I couldn't see. I pulled my pistol, aiming for his head as he slumped down. With a gentle squeeze of the trigger, I ended his life.

I then pulled out the pistol he was reaching for, an ugly little revolver that had a rhino engraved on the side in front of the drum with 'Rhino 50DS' written there. Under that it read '.357 Magnum.' I didn't know if that was any good or not, so I stashed it in my bag. I didn't know much about guns, but the numbering system was messed up.

With my Glock in hand, I went through the side door, finding myself in some kind of lobby. The place was completely trashed, with only one girl huddled in the corner beside a sofa. She looked about my age, and whimpered when she saw my gun.

"Are you going t-to kill me?" she asked timidly. I looked her over, from her brunette hair, hazel eyes and well tanned skin to her ragged jeans, wrinkled shirt and cheap sneakers. It was hard to say if she was a ghoul or not, but I could tell she wasn't kindred.

"Why would I kill a kindred?" I asked, wondering if the term had ever been told to her before.

"Oh," she said brightening. "You're one of the sisters? I've not been su-summoned yet. S-Still t-trying to shed my f-f-fears," she said, shaking.

"Have you heard what goes on in the temple," I prodded, figuring she wasn't even bound or anything.

"I-I had a friend once. She snuck up there, a f-few days ago. Said s-she saw things...bad things, y-yeah."

I shook my head, as the girl hugged her knees tighter to her chest as she huddled by a pillar. "She said, ummm, b-blood everywhere. There were a f-few of the summoned, t-tried to talk to them, but they j-just...stared at her with these b-blank looks, ya-know. One of t-them started to r-reach for her, and she ran away! K-Kyle, the guy who watches the door ran a-after her. I-I was tempted to go too, but he brought her back."

"Where is she now?" I asked and then noticed a tear run silently down her face.

"I-I heard her scream. S-She…" she tried to say before she lowered her head and let out a sob. I pushed the couch aside and knelt beside her, putting my hand on her back. "B-bishop said, w-we have to s-shed our, umm, our earthly f-f-fears on our journey to the N-Ninth Circle, but I'm scared to go upstairs and l-look for her. I, uh, I just w-wanna go home, y'know? I just wanna go home," she said, then put her head between her knees and cried.

I put an arm around her, hugging her close to me while I had a silent war with myself. She had maybe seen too much of kindred happenings to be allowed to live, but I don't know if I could kill her without sacrificing a part of my soul. And if I let her leave, it might be my own life that was lost. Needing an answer, I pulled my phone out, and dialed the only contact I had.

"This is Walsh," his voice said, coming through my phone.

"Walsh, this is Eliza. Got a problem. Young kine that's maybe seen too much, but its hard to say because she's too frightened to talk," I said, trying to keep any clues to the nature of my call private. I didn't want to make her any more scared than she already was.

"Has she mentioned anything remotely masquerade breaking?"

"No, she said there was lots of blood, and her friend got scared by something upstairs and is likely dead because of it," I told him, laying the truth out for him to judge the situation.

"Then she has nothing concrete and the masquerade is safe. You may let her live, and thank you for calling me," he said, sounding sincere in his concern for the girl and that I interrupted his night with such a small matter. But that was what he was paid for, I guess.

I let the girl cry for a moment, then helped her to her feet. "You go on home. There's not going to be a brotherhood after tonight anyway," I told her and she nodded, slowly walking for the door. When she opened the door, she screamed at the side of blood on the teller window where I had blown the ghoul's brains out then bolted out of sight. I let her go, before readying my gun and taking the stairs up.

I could hear groaning, and thinking I might be able to save another victim charged that last few steps to find several people standing around. One noticed me, a frail looking man, and started to amble forward. I watched him, and his shuffling step, and tried to figure him out. He had the skin pallor of a dead man, but his eyes were lacking of any intelligence.

"Are you kindred," I asked him, as he got close. The man didn't respond as he got within arms reach, then he lunged at me and knocked my arms to the side grabbing for my shoulders. I immediately brought a knee up, scoring one between his legs. The guy didn't even flinch as he grabbed my shoulders and bit my neck, ripping at my flesh. I jammed the gun against his head, and put one through an ear which dropped the guy lack a bag of potatoes.

I held my neck with my free hand, feeling blood seep around my fingers. I saw the other two approach, and I took careful aim with my pistol. I shot the first in the left eye, felling him, and the other I managed to hit it just under the scalp. It fell to the floor, twitched a few times, then stopped. I wiped my hand off on a nearby ruin of a couch, then felt my wounded neck again.

With the bleeding somewhat curtailed, I started to turn and go up the stairs. I found several more of the walking dead, all standing around. They just stood there, unmoving, until one noticed me, then she started forward. I took careful aim, using the three for target practice. They were surprisingly easy to kill, one shot dropping each before they could move far. I was about to start up the stairs again when I noticed a trail of blood.

I followed it down a hall, dropping each corpse as I found it. The trail went into a room, but as I tried the door, I found it locked. I reloaded my pistol, then kicked in the door. One of the corpses was ripping pieces of flesh off a dead girl in the corner. I calmly put a bullet in him, dropping him before he noticed me. I went over and pulled him off the girl, but she was long dead judging by the smell that was just starting to become noticeable.

I left her there, going back to the stairwell and went up another floor. There weren't any corpses walking here so I went up again, finding that the stairwell ended here. There wasn't any corpses here either, but the lobby-type area was bricked off, with only one door accessible. I reloaded my pistol and all my clips before stashing my gun back in its holster. I then slid my shotgun out from its simple sling and unfolded the stock. I racked in a fresh shell, then replaced the one in the tube. I was as ready as I ever was going to, and decided to end this. Opening the door, I saw several of the corpses standing around, but the man who sat on a raised platform in a highback chair was the one who caught my eye.

He looked at me, smiling before standing up and holding his arms wide, "Greetings, sister. Welcome to the Temple. I see you've been enlightened. Are you searching for something, truth maybe? Well you've come to the right place, sister. We've got more truth here than we can handle," he said, sounding like a TV preacher. It was so tempting to raise my gun and fire into his ugly mug, but I needed to find Celeste. Or at least more about her.

"Celeste enlightened me," I lied, lowering the shotgun but keeping my hand on it so I could use it if I needed to. "She said we were bringing the kindred down with our disease."

"Disease, sister? You've got to open your mind! One man's disease is another man's sanctity! Here among the Brotherhood of the Ninth Circle, we have shed these earthly labels! Come! Partake of our divine communion!"

I approached him, surprised the corpses didn't start approaching me as I got close. "Who are you, anyway? All she called you was Bishop."

"They call me Bishop Vick, Shepherd of the Damned, your midnight guide through our last days here on earth," he said, going over to a corpse still draped on a ruined couch. "Do you feel it sister? The curtain being drawn back at last, drawn back by my hand, by the Brotherhood of the Ninth Circle!"

"You mean when our ancestor's rise to eat us?" I asked, knowing Lasombra was already rising through me. I could still feel him shifting inside of me, but clamped down on it.

"Gehenna? Judgment Day? The Apocalypse? Oh again, sister, you are too indoctrinated into the antiquated beliefs of this material world," he said, inspecting the corpse on the couch. "There is no rhyme or reason, no all powerful and terrible gods who watch over and protect their chosen children. We are all damned to hell," he said, raising his eyes to look at me.

"You talk of disease, what about the disease that you and I both carry, our flesh remade into nothing more than an abomination, feeding on our brothers and sisters like so many cattle? What god watched over me when that demon tore into my neck and made me this monster you see before you?" he said, his eyes burning with an intense hatred over his fate. "No, sister. There is no god who would tolerate such a thing. So I have become God, and the diseases I carry to the masses will bring about an end of my own making, until we have all journeyed into the Ninth Circle."

"So, who gave you the disease? Celeste?"

"It's been her pet project since she was ripped from her coven," Vick said, moving around the couch. "She was just as infuriated with her gods and goddesses for not protecting her when she needed it most. So she devised this disease, molded it, created it, and gave it it's terrible power. Those that now die of our new disease ridden blood will rise like zombies. Feeding on all they came across, spreading their taint and amassing a great following! It will be glorious, sister."

"I understand how you feel about being ripped from your life," I told him, meaning the words. "But this is no way to deal with it. You are killing innocents! Hannah did nothing to deserve dying alone in her bed! She was just a poor girl trying to survive this harsh world, and I'm going to avenge her death by killing you and every one of these walking corpses you've made, and then I will find Celeste and avenge Hannah's death on her too."

"The time for words is gone, sister," he said, "You and I will take those last steps together, and see what truth lies behind the curtain!" With that he became a blur as he ran to a crumbling wall. I readied my shotgun, firing just as he was bringing a shotgun of his own out from behind the wall. My blast knocked him over a turned over table, but before I could even ratchet a fresh round into my shotgun, he came over the table with his and blasted at me.

I felt the blow strike me, and I tumbled across the floor from the force of the impact, but it didn't hurt. As I got to my knees, I could see I was now wearing some kind of inky black armor which moved like a second skin. I reading my shotgun, just as I was hit again, the blast knocking me further away. I got up, hiding behind the wall just as another blast blew through the wall beside my shoulder. I couldn't fight this guy head on, so I needed to outsmart him. I looked past the edge of the wall, then ran fast to another of the crumbling walls just as Vick blasted at me again. I wasn't hit so I hid there, waiting. I saw Vick change vantage points, just as he blasted at me again, the blast striking the wall by my head and pelting my armor with splinters. I blasted back, hitting him in the shoulder and making him drop his shotgun. I charged across the room, firing as I went. My next shot hit him in the chest, rolling him against a wall. My next two shots ripped his guts open, then I put one into his leg.

I was about to start putting rounds through his head when I felt a club like blow from behind which made me stumble forward. I rolled over, losing the shotgun along the way to see one of the corpses marching towards me. I reached behind my back for the pistol, barely getting it lined up to squeeze off two shots before he could pin me to the floor. He fell over backwards, and I fired hard and fast at the others who were close by, dropping four more.

I barely saw Vick as he went running by, shotgun in hand. I emptied my pistol into his general direction, and he ended up rolling behind the wall. I scrambled for my shotgun, ducking behind a wall just as Vick started to blast his shotgun towards me. I reloaded both my pistol and my shotgun, kneeling in the corner while Vick blew holes near the corner.

Once I was reloaded, I crept to the corner to see Vick fire once more into the corner where I had just been. I could see his shadow as he set the gun stock first to the floor as he began reloading it. I smiled, then jumped into the shadow and come out right on top of him. He looked up, slack jawed at seeing me as I put a round into his face. I began to ratchet the gun as and fire into him as fast as I could, hitting him in the face and chest. He crumbled into ash just as my last round fired into him as he disintegrated.

I looked around, and began plugging the last remaining corpses with my pistol. When I had the last one dropped, I took a round for my shotgun and used my lockpicks to open the end up, pulling out the bullets. When I did, I put the round in the shotgun and ratcheted it into place, then loaded it up full. I fired it into the sofa where the corpse lay, the half-ignited gunpowder burning the fabric. The fire caught, and in moments the fire was burning hot enough to push me back to the door. Once the fire spread to the whole couch, the flames went all the way to the ceiling, already burning a hole in the old wood there and catching the insulation on fire.

I went ahead and left the room, heading down to the ground floor. I checked the ghoul, finding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in a pocket. I took the lighter and the body, dragging both to the old sofa the scared girl had hidden behind when I first got here. I dumped the corpse on the sofa, then lit the sofa with the lighter. Once it had caught, I left the building, stuffing the lighter in a pocket along with the cigarettes. I used to love a good smoke, never developing the habit, myself. If nothing else, it helped complete my biker girl image.

I got back on my back just as flames poured through the roof. I could barely make out the smoke, but it was spreading fast. At least any surviving walkers in the building would die before they could be found, and the heat from the fire would destroy their diseased corpses and hide the evidence. That just left Celeste, so I dialed Walsh again.

"This is Walsh," I heard once the call went through.

"Scouge Walsh, this is Eliza Flores. I just stopped the main source of the epidemic. I'm currently at Pico and San Julian and I set fire to the building they were holed up in. The disease has changed. The dead turn into zombies now."

"But you stopped all the plaguebearers?"

"One remains. Her name is Celeste, and she was into magic pretty heavily."

"Magic? I see," he said, pausing for a moment. "Her name is Celeste Evans, and she is a Tremere."

"So I'd find her at the Tremere Chantry?"

"Yes, you would. Would you like to bring her in? I've even posted an award for making the epidemic stop."

"If I can, I will. I assume she will be given her Trial tomorrow right after the Brujah?"

"She will, if she can be caught. Be careful of the mages. They might not seem powerful at first, but they are deceptively powerful."

"Noted. I'm on my way to the Chantry now."

"Godspeed, young one," he said and the line disconnected. I started my bike, heading for the chantry as fast as I could. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but I was going to be damned sure I got all of them.

Out in front of the chantry, I stopped the bike and shut it down. I walked in the front door to find a three people coming down the stairs and I could feel the hairs on my neck stand on end. Two were female, and one was male, none of them were familiar to me, so I decided to ask a simple question.

"Can you tell me where I might find Celeste Evans?" I asked the group. They all stopped and surveyed me, when the guy spoke up.

"She's Celeste. If you have need of us, we request that you speak to Regent Strauss. He is the master of this chantry," he told me, his voice only mildly annoyed at my interruption. "Nyx, come," he said, looking up at the banister to several cats and what looked like looked like living winged fairies hiding behind it. It was downright eerie.

"Celeste Evans, you're under arrest for masquerade violation," I said, just as the group turned to walk deeper into the chantry's ground level. They all stopped, with blood pooling in the guy's hands, as he spun to face me.

"That's a serious accusation, Lasombra," he snarled and a black cat hissed from where she was ready to jump down from the banister.

"I have authorization from Scourge Walsh to bring her to the tower. Her Trial is tomorrow, right after the Brujah's," I said, hoping that wasn't going to be a problem.

"What am I being accused of," Celeste said, her own hand coating itself in blood as she readied herself to fight.

"Being one of the plaguebearers, and more importantly, being the one who masterminded the disease's creation and mutation, probably through your clan's blood magic," I said, watching her eyes. They widened in shock when I told her about the mutation part, so I decided to see if I could pin it better. "Bishop Vick was glad to lay it out for me. He said you were mad that your goddess didn't protect you from your sire, so you wanted to punish all of us."

I watched her face as she tried to hide her anger, but she was ready to snap. The other two started to glance between us, then the woman spoke. "Keenan, go get Strauss. Bring him here, okay?" A large tabby meowed above us, then jumped down and took the left branch of the hallway, it's tail high in the air. The others continued to watch the drama unfold, and I connected myself to the shadows.

I knew if they all attacked, this could go south fast, and likely I'd be a greasy smear on the wall. My best chance was that they didn't press the issue, but common sense told me Celeste, at least, would try.

The other female dropped back a few steps, getting behind Celeste. The move didn't go unnoticed, and I knew this was about to go south like an undercover drug bust. Celeste finally snarled, and balled the blood around her hand and threw it at the Tremere guy standing almost next to me. I expected it to go splat like a paintball, but the blood ball fused into him and he began convulsing in pain.

"Run," he groaned, and I sprinted up the stairs as he blew apart, literally, as if he'd been wearing a suicide vest. I was knocked off my feet by the blast, and could hear sounds of fighting below me. Celeste and the other woman were grappling and rolling around on the floor. I rushed down the stairs, grabbing a stray piece of wood off the bannister and rushed over to the two women. The other woman must have noticed me as she suddenly threw Celeste back against the wall. I wasted no time in burying the piece of wood in her chest, and her eyes rolled up like a light.

Strauss strolled through the door as she slid to the floor, the big bellied tabby right behind him. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

"Celeste killed Kenny," she said, gesturing to the blood stained entryway. "She also apparently used her advanced thaumaturgy skills to create the disease we've been trying to obliterate. Oh, I'm Eloise, by the way. I'm the magister of the Chantry."

Strauss gazed around, eyes going to the cats and living fairies then said, "Grab her familiar. It's the gargoyle in blue cloth." he said, and one of the living fairies suddenly bolted for the door, using its wings to glide the length of the staircase. Several more of the 'fairies' took after it, and several streaks of cat could be seen. I was certain that the familiar-in-question was about to be mauled to death, but as I got closer, saw that they'd actually just pinned it down, with a large black cat being the last one to back away, a low warning yowl issuing from it.

Eloise brought a carrier out of a closet, and then reached down and grabbed the familiar and put it in, before locking the door so it couldn't escape. "Your master has been a very bad person," she said, the fairy pouting as she wrapped her arms around itself and settled itself in a corner.

"What is that?" I asked, entranced by the living doll.

"Familiars," Strauss said, observing the pouting creature. "They are, servants, of a sort. Guardians of our havens. They are constructed using our magic, and its usually one of the first things an acolyte learns upon entering a chantry."

"Wow," I said, looking at the creature.

"They are not so easy to look at when first created, but it has become something of a fad amongst the apprentices and acolytes to transform their creations into more pleasing shapes," Eloise said, holding the creature up for inspection. "I say its vanity, but the young are more foolish and prideful and don't accept the fact that a beautiful object doesn't always equate to more power or increased usefulness. There's even talk of hosting a beauty pageant next month."

"Let the young have their fun," Strauss said. "It gives them ideas, and allows them to innovate."

"Some innovations shouldn't be found," I said, and Strauss nodded.

"Too true, but such innovations often lead to useful innovations," Eloise added.

"I'll give you a hundred if you can name one," I smarted off, wondering what hideous weapon could lead to improvements in something else.

"How about the atomic bomb? It started off as nothing more than the world's foremost destructive device. Today, that same basic technology has led to nuclear technology that powers entire cities."

I fished in my bag for a hundred, feeling a bit dumb. I handed the bill to Eloise, who shoved the bill down her cleavage. "Having lived it, I can say it was a very scary day indeed, when you learn the kine kill an entire city while you sleep."

"So what happens to the familiar now?"

"They kill me," she said, looking more like a scared eight year old than any creature I ever saw before.

"Only if your mage dies," Eloise said. "If she lives, you'll be returned to her. Until then, we'll keep you secure so you can't escape."

"Well, you've done well, neonate," Strauss said, looking back to me. "You've solved the epidemic, including it's mastermind. That just leaves your reward."

"My reflection, you can restore it?"

"Unfortunately, that's not possible," Eloise said. "Our magic is powerful, but to overcome a clan curse? That's like making a Nosferatu a supermodel. We do have a workaround. It's not a real reflection, but a living fairth, or magical painting. It will capture and reflect your essence, and as it will be tied to you by blood, will perfectly reflect your image."

"How hard is it to do?"

"Not that hard, as the painting is ready. All we need to do is sketch some symbols in Tremere blood, then apply your blood," Eloise said, stashing the familiar in the closet. She then led me into the maze, and I wondered how they found their way around. Soon we arrived at a door, which Eloise opened with a key. Inside was a large frame which had to be ten foot by ten foot. It was actually so big it had to be leaned at a slight angle to fit in the room.

Eloise picked up a knife, slicing her left hand before placing the dagger back on the table. She started by sketching a circle, then started sketching symbols above it and circling around to back to where she started. I was sure they had meaning, but it was beyond me. After finishing, she stepped and cleaned her hand and the blade with a rag. Then she offered the knife to me.

"Just slice your dominant hand, let the blood coat your palm, then place it in the center circle. The symbols are written in my blood so it'll get its power from me. There's little maintenance involved. It'll never need to be dusted, and if it gets blurry, just smear some of your blood on the painting. It'll be absorbed into the painting and rejuvenate itself, just like a ghoul."

I nodded, then taking the knife in my left hand, sliced my right. Blood pooled over my hand and I partially squeezed my hand so blood would coat the edges, then placed it in the center of the circle. The effect was instantaneous. The colors coalesced into an image, which then formed into a person by a beach on a moonlit night. I looked at the image, and it was like looking at an imperfect reflection. Nothing itself was wrong, but as she didn't reflect my movement it was more like a perfect double of myself.

"Wow," I said, studying her. I was thinner than I used to be, and my hair had lost its shine. My eyes were just gone now, leaving black orbs in their place, and my skin tone had gone from luscious tan to light peach. More importantly, it was me. I could finally see myself.

"Are you satisfied with your payment?" Strauss asked me. I nodded my approval, then watched as my painting started to move around, finally settling herself into a chaise lounge and assuming a provocative pose.

"That's amazing," I finally whispered.

"We'll have it delivered to your haven tomorrow night, after the affairs of the trial are concluded," Strauss said.

"Good," I said, finally stepping back from looking at my own image. I couldn't help but stare at it, then forced myself to look away. "There is one last thing I need to speak to you about. First off, this is rather sensitive, and do you trust all people in this room?"

"I do, young one. It is a wise question to ask when one is unsure of loyalties," he said, looking past me to Eloise. Apparently she was a little angry at being called unfaithful. I pulled the tapes from my bag, and held them up.

"When I was at Doctor Grout's earlier, he had left these tapes out in various recorders in his home. I played them, wondering if it might help me find him. They reveal he was afraid of someone rather powerful who was about to do something terrible in the city. Someone who wanted him killed, who might be on the primogen council."

Strauss glanced to Eloise, then back to me. His face was hard to read, but he didn't seem happy. "I am glad you brought this to me. Such rumors might fuel the fires in the city and cause more unrest than is already being displayed."

"Yes, and the Anarchs would be quick to point out the corruption in the Camarilla," Eloise said.

"You are proving quite powerful on both your own, and in social skills, Miss Flores," Strauss told me. Eloise came up and took the tapes I was offering, momentarily leaving to take them somewhere. When she returned, she addressed Strauss.

"I put them in your private study and locked the door, sir," she said.

"Good. If you will pardon us, I will have one of the acolytes bring me my old tape player. Miss Watson, if you will join me once you have shown Miss Flores the door."

"Yes, sir," Eloise said, bowing her head respectfully to her elder.

I nodded myself, "Thanks for your help. I still have things to do, so I'll leave you to it, Regent Strauss."

Strauss nodded, and Eloise led me back to the entryway. Several kindred worked at scrubbing the blood from the walls and floor, while overhead cats and familiars watched from the banister. A sudden thought hit me. "Is it hard to make a familiar?"

"Not in the least. But it is thaumaturgy, so you wouldn't be able to invoke it anyway," Eloise told me. Something in me said I could, and I kept my mouth shut. I was about to walk past the kindred scrubbing the floors when I noticed that Celeste wasn't lying on the floor.

"Where is Celeste?"

Eloise looked around, then walked over to the kindred by the door. "Did you move Celeste's body?"

"No, Magister. We haven't seen Celeste lying down here."

I looked around, then opened the closet where her familiar's cage was kept. One was missing.

"Her familiar must have freed herself, then pulled the stake from her mage's heart," Eloise said. "We're going to have to get better cages if they can free themselves so easily."

"Yeah, well, I'll inform Walsh that we had her, and she escaped. I suppose he'll have the Camarilla deputies looking for her."

"Yes, though it means more scrutiny and hatred for us," Eloise said. "It's not like Tremere stole our immortality from them."

"He stole it?"

"A story for another time, kindred," she said, heading back into the maze of the chantry.

I walked past the scrubbing kindred, and out the door, getting on my bike and heading for the Tower. Chunky butt wasn't at his post, so I went back and called the elevator personally, taking it up to the top, then headed for Walsh's office.

"Come in, my dear," he said as I entered his doorway. "Good work on stopping the epidemic. I assume you got Celeste somewhere?"

"I did, but she has a magical assistant that pulled the stake from her heart. She escaped when we thought she was secure."

"I'll take this to the prince, then," he said getting up from his desk. "The posted amount for stopping the breach of the masquerade will be deposited into your account. It's a million dollars, by the way. If you see Celeste again, you may stake or kill her with full immunity, as she's now under the auspices of a blood hunt."

"Good, because I intend to find her, though I figure she'll probably leave the city."

"Doubtful. If she does, she will have to enter a Sabbat controlled city, or one where we have no control. Once she presents herself to the local prince, her blood hunt will be revealed and she will again be hunted and killed," Walsh told me.

"Well, the longer I stand here, the further she goes," I said, stepping out into the hallway as Walsh closed the door behind him as he joined me.

"Indeed," he said walking down the hall with me. "If your nights become boring, or if your wits fail to find you suitable funds, you can always join my deputies."

"Maybe one day, far in the future," I said, not wanting to burn that bridge just yet. We bid each good night at the elevators, and I went down to the lobby and left. I still had one thing left and with only a few hours left in the night, needed to get it over with. I hopped on my bike, and headed for the Last Round. I parked next to the front door, and went in. Damsel stood by the stairs, waiting, so I walked over.

"Cammie," she said as I got close enough to hear her over the bar's loud music. "Didn't think I'd see you until tomorrow. Can't stay away can ya?"

"Well, you do have your own charm," I said, leaning up against the other side of the door. "I got all the plaguebearers, except one. Her name is Celeste Evans, one of the Tremere," I said and Damsel snarled. "We had her staked but she had her familiar pull the stake out. She's currently running loose, and the Camarilla is putting a blood hunt out for her."

"Great," she said, mood lightening a bit. "Cammies finally get off their ass and did something. Only after we Anarchs started working on the problem."

I shook my head, not wanting to add that no one had told Walsh about the problem and therefore couldn't fix what he didn't know to be broke. I needed to keep my allies as allies and not make enemies. "Well," I said, not knowing what do next. "Nines said this place is Elysium. Mind explaining that?"

Damsel smirked at that. "Any kindred meeting place is considered Elysium. Neutral territory. Basic rules are, no use of your special abilities, and no attacking other kindred. Anyone is free to say what they want without fearing an attack. People that break that rule can be brought before the prince at a trial, where the prince will dole out punishment. Like what happened with Jack and Skelter. You have the right," she said, teeth grinding at the thought, "to take them before the prince and ask them to be punished. Lacroix could punish them by making you owe boons to exiling them from the city to execution. Knowing Lacroix, it'd probably be execution. He's turning into a regular Mary, Queen of Scots."

"Not worth it though," I said, putting the redhead at ease. "Skelter was at least man enough to apologize after I knocked him down the stairs and I mule-kicked Jack across the room. Even Nines was impressed by how I got past Jack."

"Yeah, he said you jumped right through the shadows? I didn't know you could do that," she said, smiling at her own thoughts.

"I can, apparently. Useful if you're on the wrong end of the gun."

"Best I can do is sixty. I hear Nines has been clocked around two hundred, and I thought that was fast."

The conversation lulled, and I looked at the clock. "Well, I need to get home and tend to the ghouls," I said, turning for the door. Damsel put a hand on my shoulder, and I stopped.

"I mean it though. Thanks for helping out, and if you ever need help," she said, her voice gentle for once.

"I'll come see you. And if you want to ride with me after the trial tomorrow, I'd leave the beret at home," I said, taking her hand in mine and Damsel smiled.

"Sure. I'll see you there," she said, and I kissed her hand, not knowing what else to do with it. I was suddenly hit with an urge to get close and feed, but I suppressed it as best I could. I got close to Damsel, pressing against her as leaning my head to the side. I could feel the demand inside of me to feed, and my fangs extended. Damsel kissed my cheek, wrapping her arms around me and pulled me closer, my fangs almost brushing against her skin, I was so close. I could feel the power of her blood in her veins beneath my fangs.

I finally recovered my senses enough to kiss her on the neck, but it was agonizing to feel her skin on my lips and not feed. Almost in a stupor, I pulled away and walked out of the bar, leaving Damsel shocked at the foot of the stairs. I quickly got on my bike and brought the engine to life with a roar. I needed to escape, to settle my mind. I also needed to feed, so before heading off, I pulled out a blood bag I had gotten from Grout's and bit into it, draining both before slaking my thirst. Only then did I head down the interstate for home.

I kept my Harley at almost top speed the entire trip, wanting to get home to look over the houses Walsh had to offer. When I parked it in the alley by the pawnshop, I saw a couple a girl waiting across the street. She was in obvious clothing, most of it being sheer with only her naughty bits actually being covered. I took the key out, and headed inside, finding Brian sitting by the door as he watched two white guys box. Constance and Heather were asleep on the bed, giving evidence that the two could somewhat get along. Or maybe they were just tired from cleaning the apartment. It did look better in here.

"Mistress, you're home," he said, getting up to take my bag.

"It was an interesting night," I said as I handed my bag off, glad I no longer had the tapes to weigh it down. I took the last blood bag I had, storing it in the fridge. The fridge itself was no longer empty, housing various sandwich items and a case of pop and several beers. "Everyone getting along?"

"So far," he said as he set my bag by the desk. I pulled my pistol out, handing it to him to stash in the desk drawer. I then unclipped my shotgun and handed it to him. "Sweet Jesus, what do you do? Go looking for trouble?"

"I wonder about that sometimes," I said, as I bent over and pulled out the gun I had taken from the ghoul. "Care for an upgrade?"

"A .357? Sure you don't want to keep it?" he said, looking the gun over.

"Not sure how to handle it. I can barely use the one I have now," I told him, "And besides. You need a good weapon for defending me during the day. I got a woman gunning for me now. Her name is Celeste Evans, and if I had a picture of her, I'd give it to you. Best advice, if you do encounter her, shoot first, shoot second, and shoot some more. She can, and will, blow you up just by throwing a red ball of blood at you."

"Sounds serious," he said, stashing the pistol on his back.

"Deathly serious. We're hunting her down now. She's wanted by the city for her actions, so hopefully she doesn't last long."

I then reached down and pulled out the binder that Walsh's ghoul had given me, and set it on the desk. "Today, while we sleep, and she can't get to me, I want you, Heather and Constance to go look at new homes. I'm going to check a few out in here, and send you where I think most appropriate. If you don't find anything really wrong with it, tomorrow I'll settle things out with Walsh and maybe day after tomorrow we can move in."

"Good, because they are seriously thinking of making me take a walk while they shower at night."

"Extra bathrooms," I muttered, sitting down to go through the listings. Many of them were simple three and four bedroom homes, though the first dozen are so were even smaller two room apartments. Most seemed to be set up for a kindred and one ghoul, which most newer kindred probably only had, as they meticulously worked to build an empire. I knew I was skipping steps with how I was doing it, but many of the older kindred knew it was necessary to build fast to have something later. The question I asked myself was, can I keep it growing or will I get ripped apart.

I flipped a page, finding I was looking at an even higher price range. The second one caught my eye, as it was a duplex near Ventura with beach front access. I could feel something in me desiring it, and I thought it over. I flipped through several more, finding more properties similar in size, but nothing seemed to settle something in me as seeing pictures of the ocean.

'Definitely going to need to be on the ocean,' I thought, as I saw several properties that were actually duplexes, but that was risking a masquerade violation if anything supernatural happened. No I needed single occupant style home. I flipped a page and my heart skipped a beat. It was a Malibu estate, beach front access, with a georgous three story home not a hundred foot from the water. I looked at the listed price tag and almost whined. Thirty million?

Still, I looked over the ten thousand plus square footage displayed. It had six bedrooms, six full and two half bathrooms, attached three car garage, it's own theater room, game room, artwork room, study, exercise and work rooms. Holy Mary. This place had everything, even a large outdoor hot tub on the patio right at the edge of the sand. This was a palace built for billionaires and movie stars. Way out of my price range.

Still, I couldn't help but think that I had a good sixth of it already, and if I could win that bet with Walsh, another twenty million more. God, I was salivating at the prospect of owning it. It was perfect as every picture showing the ocean seemed to calm my beast, leading me to think that my clan must have a weakness for the sea. Why else would seeing the ocean sooth the beast in me?

"Oh, hey, your back!" Heather said as she rose out of bed. Constance was still rubbing her eyes, and I looked out the window to see the sky brightening.

"Heather, Brian, what do you think? I said, showing them the page with the thirty million dollar estate.

"You can afford that?" Heather gasped.

"If she can, she's no small timer," Brian said, shaking his head. "Makes me feel like I wasted my life."

"There's a bet," I said, flipping past that page to see it started to list rentals for business locations, "That if I can win will provide two-thirds of the funds needed to purchase it outright. I have a sixth of it now."

"And we live here?" Heather said, incredulous. "We are three people living in squalor! And you have millions?"

"To be fair, I just acquired it. Now, I'm going to send you and Brian out to check on these properties. Find out how close the neighbors are and if there are any problems with the house itself. They are all on the beach, so don't worry about not getting yourself a tan. Your personal habits are your own, but Heather, I need you awake when I am. At least when I wake in the evening. Also, I want to get you setup to start making me clothes."

"Yeah, can you model something for me? Brian said you wanted a coat, but there's nothing that fits better than a tailored one," she said, pulling what looked like a long cloth vest off the wall. I slipped in on over what I had, finding it went just past mid thigh. I then realized it was a blank for making things like jackets. "Let me just get this to sit right," she said, and started putting pins in it to make the material fold into a jacket shape.

"Brian, could you get the katana from under the bed?" I asked him, deciding that maybe having Heather rig me a way of carrying the short blade might work better than trying to carry the shotgun in public. Swords were supposed to better against vampires, and with my ability to teleport, I could easily get the upper hand in a fight by appearing behind a kindred and decapitating him before he knew where I was. Brian came back with the sword and I showed it to Heather. "Is there anyway to hide this on my back?"

"I don't know," she said, placing it against my back. "You might have to take your coat off to put it away again, and you're going to have to take your coat off to sit. So taxi driver's are going to notice..."

"Oh, I have a motorcycle now," I told them. "It's down in the alley. Took it from a vampire hunter I came across."

"Sweet," Brian said, as Heather took a marker and sketched the outline of the sword on my back before setting it aside.

"I'll work on it today, but if we're going to be out much," Heather said, concern in her voice as she thought about everything she had to do.

"The coat isn't important right now. I have another that can hide a shotgun, so it will work for a bit. I just wanted something to hide my arsenal while I'm out and about," I said, feeling the sun beginning to rise. It was time to shut down for the day, and Constance came out of the bathroom, as she got ready for her day.

"Okay, I think I have everything," Heather said, slipping the vest off of me. "To hide a sword on your back, and keep it where you can draw it easily, a duster will probably work best. It's like a trench-coat, but it has panels below the waist instead of being solid."

"I leave it to the professional," I said, heading into the bathroom to undress, finding my bed was already ready. I was really going to be glad to have a proper bed and wouldn't be sleeping in a mold covered shower stall. Once I was free of my clothes, I settled into my pallet, pulling the sheet over me to cover my body. The sun cracked over the horizon, and I gave in to the pull of sleep.