Author's Notes: I know I told a few of you that I would be working on a rewrite for the last chapter, but I found a way to explain the attack and it's mentioned in this chapter.

Hope everyone likes this chapter, though it is dialogue heavy. The fun begins next chapter as this story goes off its rails in a bat-shit crazy, kindred on kindred fight that's sure to be a hoot to write.

Also, loving all the recent likes, follows, faves I've been getting. It gives me incentive to write, but often makes me wonder if my loyal readers aren't creating ghost accounts to give me more incentives to write so they can enjoy my story on a more steady basis. It's only been two weeks...

Oh well.

Like it? Hate it? I won't know if you don't leave a review!

Chapter 61 – Run For Your Life

October 9, 2004 = Saturday

~Eliza Flores~

Shadow-stepping into my motel room, I was met with a rather violent Yukie who already had her katana out of its sheath before she recognized me. She then slid the katana back into its sheath with a solid click, before setting the katana aside.

"Mistress," she said, bowing her head. "I am sorry to raise a blade against you."

"At least you're on your toes," I commended her. "Yukie, this is my friend, Samantha. She has my permission to stay here."

"As you wish, mistress," Yukie said with another bow of her head, before cocking her head to the side as I unzipped my Bolero-style leather jacket. "Shall I bring you clothes?"

"Yes," I told her, and she moved towards the bathroom to get me some. "A suit for me and Samantha."

Yukie soon returned with a pair of suits, and Samantha and I donned them in relative silence. Mine went on like the tailored piece it was, but Samantha was a size too large all the way around.

"That's about what I was afraid of," she lamented as she looked down at the nearly bursting buttons on her blouse.

"Alright, so if I have Andrei's abilities," I began as I studied her body. "I should be able to mold your body to fit the suit."

"And then some," she commented with a lascivious smile. "Vicissitude, or flesh crafting, is all about change. With it, skin, muscle and bone can all be molded like clay. Just see the changes you want to make and let your hands make the change."

"Alright," I said, moving forward. I figured to start with Samantha's bust, so that it wouldn't be trying to burst forth. Remembering what she said about needing to mold her like clay, I undid the buttons of her blouse, then pressed my hands against her skin.

A purple haze coated my hands as I began to rub, making changes to her body. I slimmed her rib cage and hips, then decreased her breast size. When I pulled my hands back, Sammie redid the buttons and everything fit perfectly.

"Like a professional Tzimisci fleshcrafter," she said, giving me a smile. "Now the hips."

I continued to modify her body as she pointed it out, and it was telling how much weight I had lost before becoming kindred on the Sabbat crash diet/torture plan. The overall look was stunning, but not in a good way. Was I really that close to skin and bone?

"Done," I said, as I watched her pull a pair of my taller heels on while I took the more comfortable two inch tall pair

"Off to the prince?" she asked as I finished dressing myself. I was leaving my weapons behind, mainly because I wouldn't need them in the tower itself, and had no plans for any big fights.

"To the prince," I confirmed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and taking us to the car near the ruin of the Sabbat hotel. We appeared near my Honda, and Sammy and I got inside and I drove to the garage and parked near the elevator doors. I could have just taken us straight to the prince's office, but I didn't want to alarm anyone by showing up with a known Sabbat so soon after their most recent attack.

As it was, I was shocked to see a figure hiding in the shadows nearby when we got out, and more so as I recognized them.

"Be at peace, kindred," Ming Xiao said as she stepped into the light to be easier seen. "I mean you no harm."

"Your agents at the Giovanni mansion didn't share your ideas," I told her as I shut the car door.

"Indeed, the Chang brothers," she said, giving me a smile but there was no warmth behind it. "My greatest agents, undone by the young soldier of LaCroix. It was obvious your path was greater than I, or he had anticipated."

"You've talked with LaCroix?" I asked her and she nodded.

"We did have an arrangement, LaCroix and I," she said, confirming what I had long thought since the Chang brothers first mentioned it. "A mutually beneficial pact to drive the lesser factions from the city."

That didn't tell me much, except that the Anarchs were screwed. "So what happened?"

"LaCroix's zeal in recovering the Ankaran Sarcophagus has been to the exclusion of many relationships, mine included," she told me. "And I, like yourself, have been used by him in his desperate quest for power."

It fit with what I knew, that LaCroix had been desperate for the Sarcophagus, but to what end?

"How did he use you?" Samantha asked as I was thinking. Ming Xiao was up to something, and afraid. Very, very afraid.

"LaCroix feared Alistair Grout, the Malkavian primogen," she told continued, "for the cursed insight of his bloodline was strong and brought him uncomfortably close to the truth about LaCroix's ambitions."

"And so?" I asked, and Ming Xiao's form began to change as she gained height and mass. Suddenly it made since as I was looking at an exact copy of Nines Rodriguez.

"LaCroix saw an opportunity to rid himself of two problems," the form of Nines said, still carrying Ming Xia's tone and inflections, but it couldn't be that much harder to copy that as well. "A hardened rebel leader and a problematic primogen, in one fell stroke. And, as you can see, I was integral to the plan."

"Fascinating," Samantha whispered, and huddled close in behind me.

"So you were the one I saw at Grout's mansion," I said, more as a statement than a question. Nines had been framed and I was the dupe. If it hadn't been for me warning him, the prince would have likely had him killed during his arrest claiming the Anarch had resisted and no one would have doubted it.

Yes," she told me. "You were made to be the witness, for your political naiveté put your word beyond reproach; no one would believe you'd devise such a story. LaCroix used you and once again turned a problem to his advantage."

"Yeah, he's good at that," I groused. "Why question the alliance now?"

"It's obvious to me that he wishes to obtain it only so that he might use its power against those who would oppose him. If he betrays his own kind in these pursuits, can I trust him to honor our allegiances? Can you?"

"I see your point," I said, trying to think fast. If Lacroix, who already had the sarcophagus, was going to use its power against his enemies, why hadn't he already done it.

"Because he hadn't opened it yet," I said hitting on the answer.

"Hear these words, kindred," Ming Xiao told me. "The sarcophagus is sealed against the ages; only the proper key will break this seal. That key now lies safely in Kuei-jin hands. Your prince's prize cannot be had without it."

"Thank you for your honesty," I told her, knowing now I'd be facing down Ming Xiao sometime soon.

"I hope you recognize my sincerity, kindred," she said, shifting back to her normal form. "I would like to see you reach your destination before your path is cut short. I hope when next we meet, it is again as friends."

"I hope so, too," I lied, knowing full well the next time we met I'd likely be killing her and prying the key from her dead hands.

Ming Xiao nodded in acceptance, then was enveloped in light. When the light faded, it took her with it, and I nodded in thought. At least now I knew where the key was, so I could always bargain that with the prince. If nothing else, maybe it might save my neck if the prince was as hard up for the key as Ming Xiao thought he was.

"So, who was that?" Samantha asked to bring me back to the here and now.

"Ming Xiao, head of the Kue-Jin in Chinatown," I told her.

"Another clan?" she asked, and I shook my head.

"Different breed of supernatural altogether," I told her. "Not kindred, but still made from humans. Some kind of cousin to the kindred. You might ask around, but they can be difficult to kill."

"Sorry I asked," she muttered as we turned to the elevator. "So, she has the key, the prince has the sarcophagus, and you're going to have to go get it, right?"

"Not tonight," I told her. "Remember what I said about them being hard to kill? The local Anarchs just ended a war with them, it's how the Camarilla was able to get a foothold back in Los Angeles without getting staked their first day. The chaos the city was in also allowed the Sabbat in, and the Anarchs have paid a heavy toll keeping their turf. No one side really has the power to kick another out of the city, yet."

"Yet," she said as I called the elevator down. "What about an Anarch-Camarilla alliance?"

"The only guy who could rally for an Alliance would be Nines, and the prince has him under a hunt," I told her, wondering what was holding the elevator. It was usually here by now.

"So, what do you think is going to happen?" Sammy asked me.

"I doubt Nines goes for it," I said, shaking my head. "If he does, the moment the last Kue-Jin dies, they go back to killing Cammies for sport, starting with whomever is handy."

"Even you?" she asked as the elevator door opened. I was saved from responding when a pair of large barrels raised up with the opening of the doors, pointed directly at Sammy.

"Jean!" I yelled, pushing the barrels aside as I nearly tackled the deputy. "She's with me!"

"I thought I smelled something familiar," she said, giving me a chuckle. "I just thought it was an old scent."

"No, it's me," I told her, watching as she holstered the big gun. "We've come to see the prince."

"Then I'll escort you up," she said, motioning for us to come inside. "We had reports of two people in the parking garage, and one of the Malks said it was a Sabbat."

"Well, technically she is," I hedged, noticing that Sammy hid herself as far from the starlet as she could get. "She's here to ask to join the Camarilla."

"Good luck, kiddo," Jean said as the doors closed. "The prince hasn't been told yet, but according to Walsh he's been antsy all night. We're just waiting for the report on Andrei, himself."

"Dead," I told her, making the starlet's shadow of a grin grow wicked.

"Was it a good hunt?"

"It was a tough fight, for sure," I told her. "Almost went the other way."

"Those are the best," she said, really surprising me. She'd come a long from her Hollywood superstar days, but it was still easy to see the valley girl when you saw her.

"It was scary to me," Sammy piped up. "My salvation lay in her getting me out. Otherwise I'd have had to fight you Cammies with my pack."

"We had you outgunned, ten to one," Jean sniped back. "Plus, you were locked in tight with no escape. Walsh needs to update our equipment to bust down buildings."

"He can afford it," I quipped. "Hell, he was doling out millions trying to buy his way to have me in his favor when we first started to get along."

"Ventrue are like that," Jean told me. "Honestly, I know I bitch about Gangrel but I can't see life as any other clan. Too uptight for me."

"I do seem to remember an old TV show about you once that said you'd rather eat hot dogs than fine cuisine," I told her.

"I would and have," she said. "A lot of Hollywood legends who came into their money and fame late were the same way. Hugh, Hepburn, me."

Our conversation was cut short when the doors opened and Walsh stood there with ten guards and a handful of kindred, all with heavy weapons and armor that would protect them from most harm. Walsh himself was still dressed in his suit, but he carried a large broadsword on his shoulder, something the kindred with him mirrored.

"Ah, Eliza," he said cordially as I lead Jean and Sammy out. "Due to your clan curse, you are not picked up on camera so we only saw Miss Timms whom we know as a Sabbat."

"She's here to swear fealty to the prince," I told him, staring down the near twenty men in the lobby. They all suddenly looked unsure of themselves, their hands fidgeting on their weapons. "Are we going to have a problem with that?"

"That isn't for me to decide," Walsh finally said, his eyes going briefly to a guy in a gold embroidered vest as he replaced the sword in its scabbard at his waist. Vest had sheathed his sword also and was writing furiously on a notepad.

"Miss Baker, the night is yours," Walsh said as he dismissed Jean. "Miss Flores, Miss Timms, with me."

We followed Walsh towards the elevator, Vest ripping off the page and handing it to Walsh who quickly read it before stuffing it in his pocket. Walsh, Samantha and I were the only ones to enter the elevator, and in seconds we were stepping out of the elevator looking at the door to the prince's office.

The guards opened the doors at seeing Walsh, revealing LaCroix as he stood dead center of the room. He didn't look happy, but his face brightened a bit at seeing me.

"The Sabbat?" he said as we stopped about five feet away.

"Are finished in this city," I told him confidently. "Samantha Timms is one of the last known Sabbat in the city and she wishes to join the Camarilla."

"Why leave the Sabbat?" he asked her.

"I didn't join the Sabbat willingly," she told him. "I only did it to save my life and hope my friend Eliza could rescue me. Now that she has, I want to live."

"Have you been instructed in the Traditions?"

"Well, no," Samantha admitted. "But I'm sure Eliza would be willing to train me."

"Miss Flores?" the prince asked.

"I will take responsibility for her," I said.

"A moment, sir," Walsh said as he stepped forward. He had fished the page that the guy in the vest had written and showed it the prince. When the prince's eyes had reached the bottom, he looked a bit furious.

"You have committed diablerie?" he asked, his voice high as if he didn't believe it. He looked deep into my eyes, then I felt his will hit me like a light breeze. "Tell me the truth of what happened."

"Unfortunate but necessary," I told the prince whose eyes never wavered off mine and I had the brief thought that he was trying to dominate me so I played along. "My fight with Andrei came down to a grapple. I wasn't able to get the upper hand, and Andrei used his powers to grow a second set of arms. It was either diablerize him, or fail."

"I see," he said, finally shifting his gaze away. "You are excused this one time, and you may train Miss Timms in the Traditions. I must say, I'm glad that you have allied with the Camarilla. Many of my victories of late have been due in large part to you.

"And you heard that, right?" the prince said, turning to the sheriff. "You were never able to wipe them out completely! Keep this up," he said, facing me again, "and I might make you my sheriff."

"I serve at your request, sir," I said, bowing my head to the prince as if I were his loyal subject.

"About the key to the sarcophagus, sir," I said, deciding that since I was no longer needing a trump card, I might as well go for broke. "Ming Xiao was in the parking lot earlier, trying to turn me against you. She boasted that she has it. She also boasted that there was an alliance between you, and that that alliance is now over."

"This nonsense again?" he said, face twisting into a mask of disdain.

"I can't believe it anymore than a trick, but she also showed that she has a discipline that allows her to mimic physical forms, thereby using my naivete to frame Nines," I said, hoping to save the Anarch leader.

"Damn!" he said spinning in anger. "And we played into her trap!"

The prince spun back to me, but one look said any anger he had wasn't at me. "As of this moment there is no blood hunt against Nines Rodriguez," he snarled. "The Kui-Jin have now revealed their plot. They want us to war with each other?! Well, to that end I propose an alliance with the Anarchs. Together we shall drive out these foreigners once and for all!"

"Do you think we can get the Anarchs to trust us?" I asked him.

"Whether they trust me or not, the Kue-Jin are the greater threat," he said, sounding like a true politician. "They do trust you, however. After all, you've been working for them all this time."

If my jaw wasn't attached, it would have hit the floor. How did he know? I was so careful.

"Miss Riviere would be the better choice, naturally," he said, continuing on in my shocked silence, "But my intelligence indicates that she has fallen out favor with the Anarchs in general."

"I," I finally stuttered out, but the prince held up his hand.

"Spare me the explanation," he said, and my shoulders slumped in relief. "I don't hold it against you. Your affiliation is a trite concern next to your accomplishments. In fact, you alone can bridge the two kindred communities and sound the Kue-Jin's death knll. You'd be a legend."

"I'll do my best," I told him with all honesty.

"Go to the Last Round, immediately," he said, trying to sound like a general and take charge of the situation as he drifted towards his desk. "Tell them the Kue-Jin have admitted to killing Grout and that the blood hunt against Nines Rodriguez is officially over. Tell them I have realized the true threat the Kuei-jin pose and wish to negotiate a pact."

As the prince reached his desk, he opened a drawer then removed a jewelry case. When he opened it up, it revealed a lapel pin with an ankh symbol. He then removed the pin from the case, and fastened it to my collar.

"You will be my emissary for the alliance, so naturally, you speak on behalf of the Camarilla," he said and I had the feeling this was a prelude to something akin to a cabinet position in his government. "Choose your words carefully. I will begin organizing plans for war. Good luck, the prosperity of all this city's Kindred depends on your success tonight."

"Thank you, sir," I said, as I shook his hand. "Their future's in good hands."

As the prince turned and moved back to his desk, I put an arm around Sammie's shoulders and teleported us back to the Honda. We got inside, and I drove us to the Last Round while giving Sammie directions back to the motel where she'd be safe.

As I watched Sammie drive off in my car, I had the feeling that it was all going to go to hell. The feeling was fleeting, and I dismissed it as general fears. I opened the door and went inside, finding the lower floor was packed with ghouls who gave me a withering stare. Upstairs a guy was shouting, but no music was to be heard.

I pushed through the crowd, heading for the stairwell. The shouting was at times punctuated with the roar of a crowd, making it seem more like a rally of some type. The guy that was shouting upstairs was talking shit about the prince, which got a roar of approval every time he finished a sentence.

I finally got a brief glimpse Damsel on the stairs, a small smile on her face as she listened to the guy pump up the rabble. It wasn't until I got to the bottom of the stairs that I found more familiar faces, namely that of Copper and Todd. I thought it odd that Michele's ghouls would be here, considering she was hiding her status as an Anarch.

"Shouldn't you be protecting your mistress?" I asked the pair once we were standing shoulder to shoulder. "The Sabbat are going to hit her."

"Yeah," Todd said, then gave a dark laugh. "Ever wonder why Michele keeps a pair of rednecks around when we have the social graces of a bull in a China shop?"

"Because you have your uses?" I said and Copper gave a bark of a laugh.

"We were onto the them the moment they pulled up at the gate," Copper told me. "And our mistress?" he said with more laughter. "Never come to a Toreador's house to destroy it. It makes them angry."

"What makes her angrier," Todd said, joining in the laughter, "Was that she had to rip one of her fancy dresses to save her artwork."

"From the Louvre?" I asked and they nodded as they tried to control themselves. "Did they destroy anything?"

"Not a thing," Todd told me. "Michele didn't let them get inside her sanctum, killed them all in the driveway. She's having everything moved to a safer spot right now, said something was going to happen in the next few nights and didn't want the collection destroyed."

"How does she know?" I asked them, wondering if it was some sort of kindred power to see the future.

"It is my power of auspex," I heard from behind me. I spun to see Michele in a very dressed down pair of jeans and T-shirt, looking practically common without her jewelry. "It allows me to see in supernatural ways, such as into people's minds or the details of an object such as art. For example, I can tell what a person was thinking and feeling when an object was made allowing me to discern what a piece is supposed to mean."

"Does it have any useful purposes?" I asked her and she nodded.

"Turn to face my ghoul," she said as she nodded to Copper. I turned to face him, then suddenly took him in my arms and bent him over as I kissed him deeply. It wasn't until several long moments had passed that I realized what I was doing and dropped him.

"What?" I said, spinning back to a grinning Michele.

"I can also implant thoughts into a person that they must act on," she said, explaining what had happened.

"So, if a person with powerful enough auspex wanted me to attack..."

"They could indeed force you to attack," she said. "However, it does leave it's mark on one's aura, and I can tell you've been subjected to this power before. Recently, in fact."

"Damn Spike," I said through gritted teeth.

"Spike?" she said, looking deep into my eyes. "Was there a woman with him named Drusilla?"

"Dru?" I said, remembering the name he called her by.

"Merde," she breathed, her face going slack in shock. "Were they all you saw? Was there a third?"

"No, just the two," I said, then remembered they talked about a comrade dying. "They mentioned another who was dead..."

"Angelus," she breathed. "Les Terreurs impies de l'Europe."

"Do what?" I asked and she shook her head.

"The unholy terrors of Europe," she translated. "It started with Angelus in the mid-seventeenth century. He lives for terror and is a master at spreading it, something he passed onto his childe, Drusilla. Spike himself was sired by Drusilla, and he took his master's lessons to the extreme. Any one alone is cause for concern, but together they have toppled princes.

"What would bring them to Los Angeles?" she mused.

"A Thaumaturgical spell to cause an epidemic capable of killing ghouls and bring the dead back as zombies," I told her, thinking that page was getting burned when I got home. It was too dangerous to keep written down.

"Mon dieu," she breathed. "Whom would create such a deadly spell?"

"Celeste Evans," I said, filling the primogen in on the Baali's sordid past. "Good news is I dusted her."

"Très bon," Michele said, nodding in thought. "So, what brings you to the Rant, tonight?"

"An alliance with the Anarchs," as I told her about Ming Xiao.

"La prostituée mérite que son cul lui soit remis sur des plateaux d'argent," Michele ground out through clenched teeth. I had no idea what she said, but it didn't sound complimentary. "The prince knows this?"

"He does, and this alliance was his idea," I told her.

"Then we need to see Miss Swan," she said, then raised her arms and somehow raised herself above the crowd. When her hands hit the roof, she flipped herself over then stood on the ceiling to walk across it like it was the floor and lead the way over the crowd. I followed, the crowd parting as I followed the elder Toreador, and soon I was starting up the steps to the landing where Damsel stood. She gave me a questioning look as we approached, but didn't say anything until Michele flipped and landed beside me.

"What's up?" Damsel said, apparently unphased by Michele's feat of anti-gravity.

"LaCroix wants to form an alliance with the Anarchs," I told her, keeping myself on track.

"LaCroix?" she said, mouth dropping open in disbelief. "Has he...you're fucking with me, right? Do I look like a goddamn source of amusement to you?"

"I'm serious, Damsel," I told her. "The Kue-Jin have confessed to framing Nines."

"WE TOLD HIM NINES DIDN'T DO IT!" Damsel yelled loud enough to silence the whole bar. Suddenly I had hundreds of eyes, human and kindred, on me and my back itched.

"That son of a..." she started to say, then had to hold up her hands as to hold off the tsunami of kindred getting ready to jump the railing to trounce me. "If I ever get my hands on that Kue-jin bitch I'll tie her eyelashes to her cunt hairs and bowl her ass into a car compactor!"

"Problem here?" one of the big guys said.

"We're cool, Nick," Damsel said as she forced herself to calm down.

"Do I need to, uh, 'escort' this bitch out for causing problems?" he asked.

"Actually," I said as I looked him right in the eyes to stare him down. "I'm here to inform the Anarchs that the blood hunt has been called off Nines," I told him and the bar erupted in cheers. "Also, the prince wants to team up with the Anarchs to kick the Kue-Jin out of LA, once and for all. We done kicked the Sabbat out."

"So it'll be down to just us and him," Nick said as he grinned evilly.

"I like the odds," Damsel said, cocking a hip and smiling. "Nines is at Griffith Park. Come on, I'll give you a ride."

"Thanks," I said, the followed her to the back as Nick began pumping the crowd up for a fight. Michele stayed behind, presumably to shepherd the flock, and soon Damsel and I were speeding away from the Last Round.

"So, how did Michele walk on the ceiling?" I asked her as I tried to fill the quietness of the midnight car ride.

"She's an elder Toreador," she explained. "Remember what I said about celerity allowing us to dodge bullets and that Nines could if he knew he was being shot at? Michele is at the far end of the spectrum. She can move so fast that cameras can't catch her and she can defy gravity."

"Even high speed cameras?" I asked and Damsel shrugged as she drove.

"Supposedly," she said. "Most of the elders who can move that fast don't tolerate being treated like guinea pigs. Of course, those that really master the higher levels have issues dealing with the world, claim it's too slow for their liking. They usually enter torpor when that happens."

"Interesting," I said as I thought it over. The car ride continued in silence after that, until Damsel parked us in the observatory parking lot. The sign on the door said the place would be closed until noon, but that didn't worry me.

"Just take the tram up," she told me, handing me a key. "That's for the lock. I haven't personally seen Nines in days, but he'll be keeping an eye out and notice my car and the tram, so he should be waiting at the top. If nothing else, poke around. He knows you're friendly. I'll be waiting for you to come back down."

"Don't," I told her. "I'll pop us back to the Last Round when I find him. Probably beat you there by five minutes.

"Oh, you're on," she said as she plopped her car in gear and back out, then peeled out as she shifted forward.

I took the key and unlocked the door to the trams, finding one staged and ready. I'd no sooner got on the thing than it locked the door on me, kicking off into motion up the hill. I rode in silence, happy to find Nines waiting on me on the hill outside the tram station. He looked pissed though, then surprised when a passing light illuminated me.

"Good to see you again, kid," he said when I exited the tram station. "Heard you made quite a name for yourself. No small feat in this city. Now I hear LaCroix needs us all of a sudden. Well I'll be damned."

"Good to see you too, Nines." I said, taking the compliment he was giving as intended. "The prince wants to ally up with the Anarchs to wipe out the Kue-Jin."

"Does he, now?" Nine said, kicking at a rock. "You know, we just ended a war with them and we lost a lotta people. Too many. Does he expect us to do all the fighting while the Camarilla throws mean looks from the sidelines? Or are they ready to go toe-to-toe with those goddamn devils?"

"Considering the sheriff's job is about to be open, I think the sheriff will lead the attack himself just to improve himself in the eyes of the prince. Plus, LaCroix wants the Kue-Jin wiped out so he doesn't have to answer questions about possible alliance he's had with them."

"I still don't trust LaCroix," Nines said as he put his hands on his hips and thought. "But then again, the Camarilla didn't wholesale slaughter us upon arrival. Goddamnit! I'm stuck between a rock and a son of a bitch."

"Your people need a leader right now," I said, trying to persuade him into the alliance. If nothing else, it helped keep the Anarchs together. "Now more than ever. If you go, there's nothing left but the Camarilla."

"Hmm," he said, accepting my argument. "It just seems strange, LaCroix wanting to go to war with them all of a sudden. Something's not right."

"I think, but can't prove it, that LaCroix had Grout killed," I said, finally voicing my concerns over their possible alliance.

"Not what I mean, kid," he said as he turned around and scanned the trees. "Smell that? Smells like smoke. We gotta get outta here."

"What do you mean?" I asked him, looking around. Suddenly I felt funny, like water had just pooled out of me, but the feeling passed quickl.

"Kid, we've been followed," he said, and he seemed agitated? That was weird. "That fire's coming from all directions, it's man-made. We gotta get outt here. This is bad."

I looked around to find we were ringed by an orange glow. "It's pretty far off."

"No, kid, you don't understand," he told me as he backed up towards the station. "The fire wasn't set to kill us. Come on, we gotta get to the tram!"

"What are you talking about?" I asked him as he pulled me along. "What's the problem?"

"I didn't hide out here because it was a nice view," he told me as we walked. "I did it because no one would come lookin' for me in these parts. This is werewolf country."

"Werewolf?" I asked, wondering what they looked like. Then I remembered Vandal's words that no kindred would dare take one on. "Maybe you're right. Let's go."

"Shit! It's leaving!" he said as we watched the tram leave the station and head back down the hill, before he grabbed my arm and began dragging me towards the observatory. "C'mon, Eliza, we've got to get inside that building before it comes ba..."

Nines never got the chance to finish his sentence before something large, white and very hairy grabbed Nines in its teeth and bound off over the trees in one leap. I thought it looked like a wolf, but it was at least ten feet tall.

Scared, I stayed rooted to the spot as a loud howl filled the air. It came from deeper in the timber, and my eyes tracked a two story tall wolf as it emerged from the trees to send a chill down my spine. I tried to shadow-step immediately, but nothing happened. I then tried to form a blade, but the shadows remained unphased.

"Shit," I said as the werewolf howled again before lowering its head and charging me. I turned to the observatory and tried to pull speed from my body but the familiar world shift that accompanied it never happened.

Forced to run at normal speed, I tried to use my potence to burst through the door for some extra time but hit the door hard and it didn't budge. I was pushed through with the door when the werewolf smacked into me from behind, and I landed amid the debris of the doorway. I scrambled to my feet, my heels slipping on the tile as I did so.

The next room I found myself in contained the telescope, and I ran up the stairs to try and exit out the dome. The open switch was easily found, but nothing happened when I switched it on. After flipping it a few times, I finally just left it and jumped off the platform as the werewolf smashed its way into the room. My heels broke as I landed, and I kicked out of them as the werewolf scrambled to attack.

I finally got to my feet and ran deeper into the building, hoping that the walls and small doors would slow the creature down enough for me to run away but I could tell the werewolf was hot on my heels by its howls and the sound of nails on tile as it scrambled to get through the small doors.

I finally came out the other end facing nothing but a shack, which I ran towards as I hoped to hide inside it. The door was locked though, and without my powers, knew I couldn't break it down. The placard on the side that was illuminated by a single bulb caught my eye, telling me this was the Electrical room, and an on/off switch.

The fact that it was currently in the off position, brought an idea as I saw floodlights around the buildings as well. Flipping the switch, the floodlights came on, getting a painful howl from the werewolf as it struggled with the last door.

Knowing I was out of time, I ran along the outside of the building just as the werewolf freed itself from the last door. I went through a chain link fence and took a set of stairs towards the dome. I didn't even dare look back as I scrambled for safety and was driven by blind panic.

Diving for the soft warm glow of interior lights, I found myself going through the now open dome where the telescope was housed. The gap was small, barely large enough for me, and I was no more through when a blow sent me rolling across the platform and into the far railing.

I looked back to see that the werewolf was struggling to fit through, having already forced its head and arm through. The reach was almost enough to reach me, and seeing the switch for the dome, flipped it from the floor to keep the werewolf from reaching me.

The doors began to close, and the werewolf growled as it scrambled to free itself. The motors started to whine as the pinched the werewolf's chest, and its free arm clawed at the dome itself.

I watched in horror for several minutes as the doors struggled to close. The werewolf howled and growled, struggled and clawed, but soon all that was left was a dead wolf, its tongue dripping drool on the platform.

When I finally found my feet, I made my way back to the tram station, noting the damage from our chase. Feeling that a call about the masquerade breach was warranted, I pulled my phone from a pocket and tried to call Walsh, but there was no signal.

And why was I powerless, anyway? Some sort of side-effect of werewolves? Was that the reason it was suicide to fight them because they took your powers at away by their mere presence?

Figuring the only way to know was to get away, I rode the tram out, figuring I'd call a cab when I got to the bottom and feeling worse with each moment that passed. Nines was dead, as there was no way to survive without your powers. Any alliance between the Anarchs and Camarilla was doomed because both sides would claim the other was lying.

I needed to report to the tower, and do that fast, because shit hadn't just hit the fan, someone had just nuked the toilet and the shit that was my life now coated the walls. There was no way to make this look good.

I just hoped the prince understood and had some ideas on what to do next.