Chapter 32 – Monster Mash

October 2, 2004 = Saturday

VV was still posing on the couch when I returned. She sat up, patting the seat beside her where I sat down. As soon as I was seated, she slid herself across my lap, curling herself around me and preventing me from moving. Taking advantage of the situation, and for the sole reason to have something to do with my arms, wrapped my arms around VV's petite body.

"The hunter?" she asked, her silvery eyes locked on to mine.

"Dead," I told her. VV didn't flinch, but her eyes were intense as she stared into mine.

"And the innocent?"

"There were none," I told her and she stared into my eyes for a few seconds more before breaking eye contact. She curled up on my chest, a soft purr of contentment coming from her.

"If we'd never taken the paths we did in life, coud we have grown fond of each other?" she asked out of nowhere. I didn't know how to respond, but she continued on anyway. "A shame you had to take her life, but you've saved mine, and I won't forget that."

"I don't much like killing," I told her, getting a soft hmm in response as if she fully agreed with me, "But she would gladly kill us all if she could."

"Indeed," she said agreeing with me. "Hopefully, though, I'll have some lovely young kindred by my side to protect me."

"I'll do my best, Velvet," I said, and she looked up at me and smiled.

"Call me VV," she said, smiling as she said it. I might protect her, but I'd also somehow make her pay for it too. I felt her muscles tense a bit, but the smile never fell from her face.

"VV," I said, correcting myself. "So about the club situation..."

"Yes," she drawled, making it almost like a purr in my ear.

"How do you sort the girls into those that will draw men, and those that won't?" I asked her, getting a chuckle back.

"That's why I'm so interested in Angel," she said. "I know she makes Duke a lot of money, and she has the looks that men are interested in, so my work is mostly done. What Duke does, that I don't do, is break girls into this business. Every girl at Vesuvius is a proven professional, while most of Duke's are just starting out and have no clue about dancing, exotic or otherwise."

"Oh," I said, thinking it over. It was a valid point, and maybe I had to talk to Duke about that. "So, what if you have a girl that isn't make money, anymore. What do you do then?"

"I have one girl, Ginger, who's getting past her prime," she told me. I hmm'd, and she continued on. "The important thing is to keep in mind an amount for each to girl to make you every night, keeping in mind that not every night is the same. She barely makes the cut, but as long as she does, I'll keep her on. When her time comes that she can't make my cut anymore, I'll have to let her go, even though it breaks my heart. That's the trouble with this business, you can't get too emotionally attached. It can take you down."

"So what will you have her do after her time dancing?" I then asked.

"That's the where the part about emotional attachments come in," she said, and it made sense. "We can't protect the kine their whole lives, and it's a threat to the masquerade if we stay around them too long. Let them come and go, and live in the moment, for that's all we have. This moment," she said, rubbing her heels suggestively against my leg, "here now."

"So, would you consider breaking in a girl to dancing?" I asked, trying to keep our conversation on topic.

"No," she sighed. "It's a terrible thing, and I don't have the heart for it. Breaking a girl to this is the worst thing you can do to her, it takes a certain light out of them, a light they'll never get back."

"Sounds like you had experience," I said, noting the sadness in her words.

"I did," she said, and I held her tight against me. "And I won't do that to another human being."

"Me neither," I said, getting a smile from VV. "I ghouled Duke a few nights ago, so he won't be bothering the girls again. I'm just trying to figure out how to run a club so the girls aren't harmed but we can still make money."

"Very noble," she said, giving me a peck on my cheek. "I wonder if I might get your help with another problem."

"Another hunter you know about?" I asked but she shook her head.

"Poor, poor David Hatter," she said and I looked down at her lithe body. "David Hatter's an aspiring screenwriter and hotel manager. He comes in more often than he would admit, several years now. Poor dear just can't get a break. I overheard him talking about his new screenplay with one of my girls. It was about secret societies and creatures that found themselves dealing with inner beasts and persecution by elder monsters," she said, then looked up into my eyes and laid her head on my shoulder, her strawberry lips inches from my chin. "Sound reminiscent of something to you?"

I nodded my head, my lips brushing hers because she was so close. "It's about kindred," I said.

"The details of his story were too insightful to be coincidental. I think someone's working with David, a kindred who doesn't realize the consequences of their actions. Do you know the penalty for revealing ourselves to kine is?" she asked, her voice still low and sultry but I think that was just her normal way of talking. It also carried a pain in it that cried at my soul, wanting me to help her even though my brain screamed I was still being played.

"With Lacroix in charge, they'd be looking at their own beheading," I said, the words making VV flinch with their honesty.

"I'm afraid poor David's big break, the screenplay he's worked so hard on, must be destroyed and his less than silent partner must be," she said, pausing at the last word as if she didn't want to say it and make herself accessory to the fact.

"Killed?" I said and she nodded her head.

"I know David too well, I'm very fond of him, and I'm too close to do what needs to be done," she said.

"You want me to just destroy his screenplay?" I asked her.

"I don't think David knows his collaborator is kindred," she spoke almost in my ear. "You'll have to take David's screenplay, and somehow, you'll have to coax the name of his source out of him. Once you've found out who, kill," she said, the last word almost a sob, "the traitor, but do not touch David."

"And what do I get for this little favor?" I asked her. She looked up at me again, but my eyes fell just south of her chin to her neck and the little silk choker she wore. Something in me wanted to bury my fangs in her neck and suck her blood out like I had Damsel, and it was a feeling I had to force myself to not follow.

VV must have noticed my view had drifted south, but she didn't know I was looking at her neck and not her chest. "I promise you can have all of me once all of this is over."

I looked into her eyes, seeing the promise that was there and nodded my assent. "David works at the Luckee Star Motel. He's very passionate about his writing, and loves to talk about his craft. I'm sure he'll talk about his screenplay. It may take some persuasion to get him to ive up his collaborator's name, however."

"I'll sort it out," I said, hugging VV close as I used my potence to lift her as I stood. She giggled as I found my feet, and I lowered her to her spiked heels. "And you can tell me about the club scene when I get back."

"I promise you'll have my full attention when you return," she said, smiling as I slipped down the stairs.

I went back out to my back, finding a few police cars at the Sin Bin as the processed the crime scene I left behind. No one looked twice at me, dismissing me as they noticed I came from Vesuvius, and obviously not their killer. I could smile at the simplicity of it and headed down the street to the gas station. I parked under the awning, filling the tank on my bike with a few dollars in gas when I heard a phone ring. I checked a nearby clock, finding it was time for DMP to call the payphone, so I ran over and picked it up.

"The moon is a mysterious mistress," I heard a deep voice say.

"Who walks the night with demons of dread," I replied, hearing a quick chuckle.

"Luckee Star Motel, room 106," he said then the line went dead.

I laughed, knowing I can kill two birds with one stone. I went inside to pay for the gas, finding a young kid with long brown hair sitting behind the register. A quick look around told me that we were alone, so I walked up to the counter.

"S'up," he said in a somewhat bored and stoned out voice. "Welcome to the Red Spot, home of the Monstro-Chug, seventy-two ounces of your favorite blah blah blah. You need some help or something?"

"Pump three," I told him.

"Three twenty-five," he said after ringing it up. I paid him, noticing his guitar case behind the counter.

"You play?" I asked, and he smiled.

"Totally," he said, becoming slightly more animated. "You should come out and see my band, Ebola Cereal. We're playing tomorrow night at the Crematorium. No cover for chicks. We're gonna RUIN the place."

"I'd love to be in on that," I said with a smile. "Anything else going on in town?"

"Yeah!" he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "The Vesuvius rocks! They don't let me in anymore, but damn, the girls in there…"

"Bare naked models?" I asked and he nodded emphatically.

"Totally," he said, in a tone only a California stoner could do. "Hey, you should REALLY ask me about the special."

"Okay, I'll bite," I said, giving him a somewhat toothy grin. "What's the special?"

"I'm glad you asked that, baby," he said, bringing up a duffel bag from behind the counter and opening it up. "Seeing as how you look, trustworthy or something, I got this special where you buy some really expensive burritos or Grapple juice, you get a free weapon of your choice. Interested?"

"Sure," I said, looking inside.

Most of it was ammunition, a few other things including a shoulder holster like Jean wore, and one pistol. I pulled it out, and inspected it. I remember seeing one just like it once before, Jean had one, but I hadn't touched it. Inspecting it now, I found it was so similar to the thirty-eight I already knew how to use it.

"How much for the forty-four?" I asked him, clicking the drum into place and testing the weight of the piece. It only weighed a few pounds, maybe a pound more than my Glock, but the trigger stuck out further. Pulling the trigger back a bit, I was surprised to see it start cocking and rotating the drum. Letting off the trigger, I dropped the hammer back gently and turned to the clerk.

"Five hundred," he said with a smile on his lips. "I'll even throw in the shoulder rig it came with and a box of shells."

"Deal," I said, laying the pistol down and pulling out the wad of money I had taken from the Sin Bin's coin machine. It took it all, but I had enough to get the pistol.

I slipped my messenger bag and duster off, doing my best to hide the sword hidden in the duster, but the clerk didn't take notice of the thunk the supposedly all cloth duster made when I set it on the counter. The shoulder holster was simple, a cloth strap like affair that resembled a harness with a latch in the front.

After adjusting it to be tight, I slipped my new forty-four into place, finding it stayed snug on my side with the handle just under my lady. Slipping my duster back on, I found the gun was so well hidden, it didn't even show, but pulling it required I leave the top buttons open. I pulled the gun out, using bullets from the box of shells to load the gun up full, stashing the rest of the shells in a duster pocket and throwing away the box.

"Thanks," I said as I sauntered back out to my bike. I had a few things to do, and quickly headed down the street for the Luckee Star Motel, finding it with no trouble since I'd passed it on the way to the Sin Bin. The lot was full, but I parked next to the entrance since I didn't plan to stay long and walked in.

David Hatter sat behind the counter, a brown haired guy in a dirty white and black windbreaker. He looked lonely as he sat there, scribbling in a pad and often chewing on the end of his pencil in thought. He looked up and noticed me, then shook his head before going back to his writing.

"No vacancies," he said in a completely bored tone.

I walked over and looked at what he was scribbling but he quickly blocked my view with his arm. I saw enough to know it looked like some sort of screenplay, and I smiled at him. "You a writer?"

"Writer's is such a tarnished term, you know what I mean?" he said, in a high pitched voice. "It's like, like every other guy says he's a writer, right? You write a letter, you're a writer, you know? I-it's like, what I do," that's like screenwriting, like, I encapsulate the essence of excellent film in my scripts, alright? Like, I'm a, a," he said, stuttering for a word as he snapped his fingers, "blacksmith with pens, right? I'm a welder of montage."

"What do you write?" I asked him, giving him a smile and leaning over the counter a bit but keeping my eyes glued on his.

"Does a writer write, or does he just ink the flotsom and jetsam floating in his subconscious into a hundred-twenty page piece of film genius?" he asked, avoiding the question. I give him a curious glance to let him know I wasn't buying it, and he stammered on. "But, y-y-you know, most of my subconscious is filled with old horror films, so that-that's what I write mostly, I guess."

"Like vampire films?" I asked and he shook his head.

"Me? I'm like, looking to redefine the vampire movie, okay? Like tons of people make vampire flicks, popular characters, but me I'm gonna be doing the real deal. Like, not only is it going to be scary, but it's gonna be like, it's gonna be believable."

"How do you make vampires believable?" I asked, and he rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Well, in my story, it's not like about garlic and bats, it's about vampire societies and stuff," he said, and I nodded my head for him to keep going. "Like, what would vampires be really all about? How do they blend into society without being discovered."

"Well," I said, giving him a wan smile as I looked once at his pad to see it was mostly character dialogue between to names I didn't recognize, "I have a friend in the movie industry that's always looking for a good script. He'd love to look your screenplay over. Have a copy on you?"

"A friend, huh?" he said, sounding somewhat skeptical. "And what's his name?"

"Isaac Abrams," I said, and Hatter's mouth fell open. "I'm supposed to meet him in a bit at his jewelry shop to talk about his upcoming film."

"You know Isaac Abrams? He's like a legend in this town!" he said, then bent under his desk to reach something.

"He can be a bit of a dick at first, but if you show him the proper respect, he'll treat you right," I said when Hatter came up with a bundle of pages in his hand.

"Man, that's fantastic!" he said as he showed me the screenplay. "I'll give you my only copy of the screenplay if you promise to keep it safe and show to Mister Abrams. Hopefully he'll like it."

"Sure," I said, taking the screenplay from him. "Did you have any help writing it or any collaborators?"

"I really can't talk about it," he said, grimacing a bit. "He likes his privacy."

"Don't you think he wants to be famous too?" I said, smiling and turning on my presence to influence the sap. "I mean, who doesn't?"

"Okay, okay," he said, getting a bit nervous, but smiling to show it wasn't directed at me. "Guy calls himself Julius. Don't know if he has a last name or what it is, but he lives under the Santa Monica Pier. Weird guy, weird guy, but really creative, you know? I love how his mind works."

"Thanks," I said, tucking the screenplay into my messenger bag. "I have to go see a friend here for a moment, make sure they're staying sober," I lied, hiding my meeting with DMP, "But then I'll go see Isaac about this."

"Thanks," he said, going back to his pad.

I went out the door, finding it was like a backwards motel in that the doors had outside access, but the doors were all protected behind a fence and night clerk. Piss poor excuse for security it seemed, as I saw one girl that could only be a hooker in her fishnets, tight mini and tube top. I headed over to DMP's room and knocked, and didn't get an answer.

I pulled my new magnum out and used my potence to bust the old lock, and entered the motel room. Blood painted the floor, especially in the back where the bathroom was. The door leading to the tub and toilet area was shredded, giving evidence to the little monster that was becoming the bane of my nights.

I looked the room over, finding a row of tapes in the drawers. I searched each drawer, not finding one marked 'Monster Eats Chick' in the mix. I instead took one of each that they did have, though their titles weren't the most revealing or sounded even close. It was only when I was about to leave that I noticed a key ring under the bed. I pulled it out, finding it only held three keys. One was marked 'Internet Cafe' with 'Ground Zero' on the other side.

Taking the key, I left Luckee Star and gave Hatter a cheerful wave as I passed by, not wanting to impicate myself in any crime. I took my bike back down the internet cafe, going in the front way. Pulling the key out, I checked it against the back door marked 'employees only' but it wasn't locked to begin with.

The door behind that one though, was, and I unlocked it with the key and stepped through to a stairwell. A sudden feeling of unease hit me. If those little monsters found the motel room, did whoever sent them find this place as well?

With that thought in mind, I pulled my magnum out and cocked it, proceeding slowly up the stairs. The door at the top of the stairs started to bang in its frame, and I aimed for the door. I was almost to the top when the little devil burst through the door, a loud howl announcing its arrival.

It was far faster than I thought, and I no more had my pistol lined up then it jumped for me. I ducked, my shot going wide as my target ended up leaping over me to the bottom of the stairwell. I fell on my backside as I twisted to get the target back in my gunsights, slipping a few stairs down in my haste. The little monster acted confused for a minute, and I put one into it's brain just to watch it explode in a ball of blood and viscera. I held my gun on the remains for a second, before reloading the magnum and going back up the stairs.

I followed the gun into the improvised studio, hammer back in case any more of those things showed up. A naked lady cowered against the wall to my right, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at the far wall. A monster suddenly leaped towards her, and I began yanking the trigger back as fast as I could to kill it before it landed on its next victim.

One of my bullets hit it, causing it to explode before it could reach it's target, saving her life but a noise in the back of the studio yanked my attention as another monster chased a man from around a corner, catching and shredding him with what had to be potence-like strength.

I aimed my magnum at it, firing once but it just went click. The monster noticed me, leaving its now dead victim to charge at me. I dropped the magnum, reaching under my duster as time seemed to slow and the monster hung in mid-air. I grabbed my katana, pulling the sword and getting into a ready position just before the monster reached me. With a solid swipe, I cut the creature's leg off as it sailed past me and it landed and rolled once before exploding.

Holstering the katana, I went over to the surviving woman, who still stared at the wall opposite us. "Hey," I said, snapping my fingers in her face. She finally jerked her face to me, but the fear was evident in her eyes. "Get out of here," I yelled, and she bolted for the ruined door, not even bothering to find something to cover herself with.

I picked up my magnum, reloading it and stashed it back in its holster. It packed a punch, but it took too long to reload and only carried six shots. I reached under my duster and pulled out my Glock, hoping the smaller pistol would work better on these fast little monsters.

Heading through the studio, I checked all around me for more of those monsters. They were too fast and lethal not to be taken seriously. It also afforded me a chance to see more of the studio, each of it's little 'rooms' showing a different setting; a motel room, possible bedroom, dining room, and a dumpster surrounded by wooden 'brick' paneling to resemble an outside scene.

I was just about to turn my back on the dumpster when a monster jumped out of the dumpster, it's scream my only warning as I spun and fired several shots into it's forehead as it leaped at me. Changing the clip, I continued on, finding another door in the back next to a scene with a stuffed zebra and some potted plants.

I opened the door, finding myself in a hallway that had windows along one wall, showing a storeroom full of tapes and the equipment to make copies with. A man stood at a table, oblivious to what was going on around him. I had just found the door when one of the monsters burst through a vent. I brought my gun up, hoping I wasn't dealing with bulletproof glass as my first shots ripped.

Damn little monsters were too fast though, as the one in the room made short work of the guy inside, loud techno music assaulting me now that the glass was shattered. I kept firing, eventually killing the monster and covering the area with blood and splattered meat. The windows had that built-in mesh designed to keep intruders out. I tried the door, but it was locked with an electronic lock I couldn't pick.

Heading around the corner, hoping to find someone with an access card, and found a door with DMP scratched into the hard wood. 'Bingo,' I thought as I went through and found myself in a dungeon from hell. Two of the creatures stood scratching and eating at a woman on an improvised rack. I stashed my Glock in a pocket, pulling my magnum out and taking careful aim.

I exploded one over the girl, the other taking notice and screeching as it turned to face me. I forced myself to be calm, thumbed the hammer back and took careful aim as it raced for the stairs up to me. I held my aim, waiting for the overly fast and brainless creature to hit the wall, which it did. Momentarily stunned, I had the perfect shot, and I blew into a bloody mess.

I reloaded the magnum, not wanting to take a chance on needing the hard hitting weapon and not having enough bullets in it. I then stashed it back in the shoulder holster and reloaded my Glock's clips. Glock in hand, I went down the stairs and looked at the familiar face of the woman that had been tied up in the dungeon.

I found I knew her, one of the hookers I had fed from while I was on probation in Santa Monica. Leaving the corpse behind, I went through the small room which dead ended in a utility closet.

"Damn," I muttered, slightly angered at not finding anybody alive.

One of the boxes moved slightly in the corner, and I brought my gun up and fired, thinking I was about to get ambushed. A guy in a gray tank top and red bandanna burst out from under the boxes, scrambling almost on all fours as he tried to get by me in a blind panic. I reached down with a hand and grabbed him by his tank top and threw him back against a shelf, pointing my Glock in his face.

"Oh, Jesus, man," he nearly screamed, tears coming from his eyes as he stared at my gun, almost going cross-eyed from it being so close to his nose. "What the, what the FUCK is going on up there? Huh? Don't make any noise, th-they'll hear us."

"You DMP?" I asked him, voice stern as he was likely my only source of information.

"Y-Yeah," he started to say, before finding his brains and shaking his head. "I-I, uh, mean, n-no," he said, then I stuck the Glock on the end of his noise. "Aw, fuck it! Yeah, I with DMP. You five-oh?"

"What the hell is going on?!" I shouted at him, giving him a shake to keep his attention on me. "Those are the same creatures on your tape!"

"Yeah, yeah, I-I know," the guy said, terror evident in his eyes, "but we didn't make that shit. Uh, one of the guys stole it, f-found it in the creepy house in the hills while he was cleaning the pool. We just copied it and put our names on it. Worse than anything we ever did. Worst thing I ever saw!"

"What house!" I demanded, shaking him to keep his attention on me. "Where is it?"

"Please, please, please," he begged, and I suddenly got a whiff of piss.

"Jus-just get me outta here!" he yelled, then he screamed, long and high pitched as I was knocked hard into him and fell into a pile of boxes. I had a close up view as the monster recovered, literally at my feet as the thug I had been questioning bolted in an attempt to escape. The monster recovered in seconds, and with one loud screech, brought the thug down and ripped his back to shreds.

I calmly lined up the Glock, putting several bullets into it's head and destroying it, but the thug was already dead. It was from my vantage point on the floor that I saw the vent above me and what looked like the locked room above that. Climbing up the shelving, I managed to climb into the room through the smallish vents.

I searched the equipment, finally coming up with the original tape. I took it, stashing it in my bag, then started to leave. I was just coming up on the main studio area when two cops burst through the ruined door. I ducked back out of sight, apparently not seen. I then used my shadows to step out to my bike, finding the area crawling with cops.

I hopped on, calmly leaving before I was noticed and went back to Isaac's, and hid my bike in the alley. Isaac was talking with a pretty woman in a blue satin suit when I came in through the door, and the annoyance at being interrupted settled quickly into grim lines on his face.

"Did you find it?" he asked me and I pulled it out of my bag.

"Yes," I said, and he dismissed the woman, saying that they could finish up later. After she left, shutting the interior door to the store behind her, I added, "And the creatures on the tape are real. Small, fast, and very deadly if you're not armed."

"Then this is no doubt the work of a fiend," he said, extending his hand for the tape. "Hand me the tape, there might be something on it that will give us some insight into what its motives are."

I handed him the tape, and he put it into the entertainment system and played it. My earlier suspicion was bore out, it wasn't something that had been shot by a tall individual, the time and date stamp had been removed from the now obvious security footage. It showed the brown haired woman as she arrived by taxi, walking bravely up to the door.

She knocked, and the double doors opened and the scene changed to an interior shot, showing her shock at seeing nothing on the other side. Still, she walked in, calling out for an Andrei when the doors suddenly closed on her. There was nothing to show how the trick was done on opening and closing the doors, but the walls looked as if they were coated in a layer of blood, the paintings by the door showing mutilated bodies in the dim light. The woman tried the door, but it refused to open.

The camera showed the monsters as they lined up along the door, as if they were just servants waiting for orders from the mistress of the house. The woman didn't seem to see them, and fumbled along the wall until she found a light switch. She screamed the moment she saw them, and run deeper into the house and up the stairs.

The rest of the tape was what we'd already been able to see before, where the woman ran through the rest of the house until she locked herself in a room with two more monsters and was killed. This time, the tape didn't fade to black immediately, but showed them lapping at her insides, trying to get to her blood the only way they could, as it pooled inside her wounds.

When it ended, it was Isaac who broke the silence. "The house in the tape, I know it. It's in the Hills, on King's way. My guess is that the fiend that made this tape is using these creatures to hound the Nosferatu, which would explain their sudden absence. They're trapped."

He turned around in his chair to face me, after taking the tape from the VCR and putting it in his desk. "Well, it's unfortunate that the prince needs you to see the Nosferatu, because it looks like this fiend know how to get at them, and I doubt he's going to draw a map for you. King's way is your only way in, unfortunately."

"I'll just follow the little critters to their target," I said aloud, trying to think and plan. I was going to need a lot of ammunition and weapons.

"If I don't hear from the Nosferatu within the next few nights, I'll tell Lacroix he's going to need a new leading lady and march a few of my own troops up there," he said, a smug expression on his face.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Isaac," I muttered as I turned to leave.

"If I may give you one final word of warning," he said, making me turn back as I wondered if I had crossed the line with my mutterings, "Do not trust LaCroix. Do not play the damned politics of the Camarilla. This city hasn't needed them in a long time, and won't ever."

"I'm at the point in my undead life I don't trust much of anybody, anymore," I told him, "Especially the prince." He smiled at that, knowing I didn't trust LaCroix and was probably looking for a way out. I decided to squash that thought. "He pays me well for my services."

I left him with a scowl on his face, knowing his pockets weren't deeper than a Ventrue's. According to Walsh, money didn't matter to a Ventrue. Made me wonder what did, though. I hopped on my bike, deciding I needed to take care of Julius before heading to Fat Larry's for something to take down these monsters with and stock up on ammo.

I was almost to the pier when I spotted Mercurio getting a large duffel out of the trunk of a Mercedes. He spotted me too, and shouted at me, but I didn't hear it over the roar of my Harley. I circled back, parking beside his car to see him smiling.

"Just got back from seeing a friend of mine," he said as he set the duffel on the trunk of his car. "Guy's been miffed about a pay freeze, so he's agreed to start filling my wish list for a cut. Got two rifles outta this trip. Interested?" he said as opened it to reveal the contents.

The first weapon he pulled out looked like an AK-47 assault rifle, wood grips gleaming in the streetlight. "This baby is the Spas fifteen. Twelve gauge semi-automatic rifle. Dual-fire modes, but why anyone would want to go pump is beyond me, and eight round magazine. About the only gun I can get to beat it is a Saiga twelve with a drum magazine. This thing was designed to rip kindred apart, especially if you use these," he said, holding up a box marked Dragon's Breath.

"Dragon's Breath ammo is illegal in Cali," he said, grinning, "but it turns a twelve gauge into a flamethrower with a punch. Hit a kindred with this, they'll frenzy and burn, and burn damage takes much longer to heal. Add to that you can put eight rounds into 'em in a heartbeat…"

"And you can take a kindred down with ease," I said as I looked lovingly at the rifle. "Ooh, I'll definitely take one."

"Thought so, since the master has you running all of his rougher errands," he said, pulling out a case. When he opened it up, he pulled out a rifle that was long and sleek except for the two sticks attached under the barrel, and it was done all in black with a telescope mounted on top of it. Setting the Spas to the side, I took the rifle, finding I really didn't know much about it.

"This one is from my buddy's private stock," he said as he laid the Spas to the side. "Remington Em-twenty-four sniper rifle with Leupold Mark Four scope and Harris bipod and all the other goodies are accounted for in the carrying case. It's one of the most accurate weapons in the world, and almost impossible to get, outside of law enforcement."

I looked the rifle over, noticing its simple lines and lack of sophistication. "How far away is a weapon like this supposed to be used?" I asked, lining the telescope up to my eyes and flicking the covers open. The range I could see clearly was astonishing, easily allowing me to see the bolts on a distant light post as if they were at my feet. I ranged the rifle further down the street, finding a guy sitting in his car smoking a cigarette, his face briefly lit as he puffed.

"Nine hundred yards," he said, and I whistled. "A good marksman is lethal at further ranges."

"Like that ghoul in Hollywood Forever Cemetery?" I asked and Mercurio nodded.

"Romero's one of my best customers," he said as I lowered the rifle. "And I've never seen a better shooter. Man could take the wing off a fly clear across town."

"This rifle is probably right up his alley," I said as I handed it back to him. "I don't usually get the chance to fight at a long range. Half the time, I'm close enough to use a sword," I told him as I handed him the rifle.

He shrugged as he took it back. "That I can understand," he said, putting it back in its case. "Has the Sabbat hit your place yet?"

"No," I said, thinking of my mansion. It was a sitting duck out there in the middle of nowhere, but I had only just acquired it. "I did only just get it though, so I'm hoping they won't attack it for a bit. What's one of their hits like?"

"They hit like a Mack truck, and that's just on their worst days," he said as he turned to face me. "Back in New York, I was working bodyguard for one of the old boys. There was me, a couple of other ghouls and some young kindred types like you. Sabbat hit us, hard, tried to pull a dine and dash. Just two of us walked away, and one was the elder."

"Sounds rough," I said, thinking that if only two people walked out of a hit, one of them an elder, he was either very good, or very lucky. Probably lucky. "Any advice for my ghouls on how to survive their hit?"

"Yeah," he said, hefting the Spas. "Flamethrowers, or leiu thereof, a line of Spas and Dragon's Breath ammo. If you could get access to one, a belt fed automatic and tracer rounds would be best. Tracer rounds work better than normal bullets because they burn as they're shot, and you types don't heal that damage very well."

"Preach," I said with a smile, remembering the pain and difficulty I had when the sun had burned me on my way home. "So how much for the Spas?"

"I can let you have it for five, mainly because you saved my ass," he said as he handed me the Spas fifteen again.

Thinking of my upcoming meeting with Julius, it was a perfect chance to test it out when I executed the traitor. It didn't sit well with me, being an executioner, but we did live under strict laws. I couldn't expect everyone I met to be as understanding as Samantha and accept my unnatural hunger. In fact, most people would probably freak out if they saw me feeding.

If there was one thing I could agree with the prince about, it was the need for our secrecy. Mortals couldn't handle the fact that undead predators walked among them. The hunter I had killed in the Sin Bin was proof of that. I hadn't no more appeared than she pulled a weapon and tried to kill me. I could have been coming to her with information about a dangerous kindred that needed to be killed, and she didn't care.

Shaking my head at my train of thought, I reached into my messenger bag for my money. I'd kept several grand in here, or so I thought, only finding a few hundreds. Frowning, I checked the rest of my bag, eventually finding the rest of the required money, though I was down to just a few dollars. It seemed my ghouls were using my cash on hand, though I couldn't fault them for following my orders. Maybe I needed to start a ledger and any expenses they made could be tallied on it. I had to keep track of their expenses somehow.

Counting out the five hundred dollars, most of it in fives and ones, I handed it all to Mercurio. He handed me a box of Dragon's Breath ammo, and he helped me load up the Spas. It carried eight rounds in its magazine, and we put nothing but Dragon rounds in it.

Once we had it loaded, Mercurio stuffed it back in the duffle and I slung it over my back, making it impractical to carry all the time. It wasn't that it was heavy, but it was kind of easy to guess what I had in a large duffle bag slung over my back as I rode. And all I needed was a cop to pull me over and ask to search me to end up on the wrong side of mortal law enforcement.

Taking the bag and bidding Mercurio farewell, I headed down to the beach access under the pier, and walked down the steps and out onto the beach. There was only one person out here, a kindred in a white t-shirt and a mohawk. I walked up, shifting the duffle bag so I could pull the Spas if I needed it. The kindred noticed me as I walked up, shifting around to get on his feet, ready to bolt.

"You Julius," I asked him.

"W- wh-wh-what de-d-do you want" he stammered, looking at me. He seemed ready to bolt, and E's earlier warning when we first met about Thin Bloods being hunted rang through me.

I pulled the Spas from the duffle and aimed it at him. "You goddamn traitor!" I yelled, shouldering the Spas and getting ready to blow him to ash.

Julius backpedaled hard, falling into the sand where he lay frozen. "Nuh-n nuh-nuh-nuh-no," he stammered fast, looking at the wicked shotgun I held.

"What were you thinking? Telling a human about us? Do you know what the consequences are?" I yelled at him.

"Puh-puh-puh-please! I-I-I duh-doh-don-d-dinon't know!"

"You know what the penalty is for breaking the Masquerade, Julius! Do you?!" I yelled at him. I wanted to pull the trigger, to end his suffering before my own nerve failed.

"I-I-I I'm suh-suh-sorry! Puh-please," he stammered on. "I'll never do it again!"

"The punishment is death!" I yelled at him. I knew I should fire the gun, incinerating the poor sap, but I couldn't do it.

"Y-y-you cuh-could lemme go!" he said, stammering on as he pleaded for his life. "I-I-I puh-puh-promise I-I-I wuh-would leave Los A-Angeles, I swear!"

"I don't know, Julius," I told him. "I could end up in just as much trouble as you."

"N-nuh-no one ha-has t-to know!" he yelled, and my heart fell.

One person did, besides me and him, and if one did, more might know. Running the various scenarios through my mind, I couldn't help but remember something the prince had said. Lowering my gun, I knew I was taking a risk, but since I had plugged the leak in the masquerade, it should be over and done with.

"Get out of here, tonight," I said and Julius nodded emphatically. "And if I ever see you in Los Angeles again, Julius, I will kill you."

"Th-thank y-you," he said, as he scrambled to his feet and ran off down the beach.

I watched him go, then put the Spaz back in the duffle, wondering if I'd saved or damned myself by not killing Julius when I had the chance. At least the Nosferatu weren't around to leak that back to the prince.