Disclaimer: The characters in the following story, with the exception of "Loral Williams" and a few other auxiliary characters

Disclaimer: The characters in the following story, with the exception of "Loral Williams" and a few other auxiliary characters, are owned by Spelling Television Inc. [A subsidiary of Spelling Entertainment Group Inc.]. Vampire: The Masquerade is owned by Mark Rein*Hagan/White Wolf Publishing. The words to "Kathy's Song" belong to Apoptygma Berzerk, and was released and marketed by Metropolis Records. My use is in no way a challenge to their copyrights.

Note to the Reader: The vampire legend is not the creation of anyone person, and no one set of rules or myths interprets what a vampire is. Every storyteller redefines what is logical and permissible in his or her story's universe. If I stray from the World of Darkness interpretation, it is only because I am endeavoring to write a fuller and richer tale.

Shameless Promotion: "Kathy's Song (Victoria Mix by VNV Nation)" is currently (as of 2-4-01) on the top of the Melodic Trance/RPM charts. It's not too dancy, but not to slow either. Definitely a personal fav' and is alluded to in this chapter. J

A Double Edge

Part I

Chapter 4

She snatched the clip.

Cash didn't move.

'Great, what do I do now?' her brain usually so adept at solving these sorts of problems drew a blank. Instinct told her to blow him away and make a run for her truck…. she could make it, but the thought of spilling blood curdled her thoughts. Maybe just maybe this was real…. maybe this was a way out.

Slowly she lowered her gun.

Still no sign of aggression, from her opponent.

She slid the clip out of the gun and dislodged the round in the chamber.

Cash smiled, the gamble had paid off.

She pocketed the clips and handed him the gun. Finding a little comfort in the thought that if he tried anything she still had her knife. He didn't seem about to jump her, so she looked around, trying to remember how to play this game. She used to be so good at it.

"How is she?" She asked finally breaking the silence.

"Surviving…the mugging really shook her up."

'Mugging, yeah right' she thought.

"So why are you out here?"

"I came to find you…we have had coyote sightings on the property…thought you might not be safe."

'Coyotes, good one'.

"Oh, I thought that you had come to…"

"It's okay I understand. You'd be surprised how many people think that way."

'Would I?'

"Which doesn't answer what you are doing out here." Cash concluded.

"Felt like a walk." She answered testily.

"So, you ran into the woods in the middle of the night?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes…. yes I did." For the life of her she couldn't quiet explain to herself why she hadn't just left in her pick-up, and blown out of town. It would have been the smart thing to do, but she still felt like she needed to be close to Sasha, so the woods had presented the only real escape for her.

Her attention shifted back to Cash. She needed to keep him on his toes.

"Well, while we are being blunt with each other…. maybe you can tell me if you love her as much as she loves you."

The question caught him completely off guard.

"I-I do love her, but it's hard. She can be so stubborn…." He hadn't meant to say all that to a total stranger.

Loral laughed, breaking the tension. He had given the right answer. Maybe there was hope for this guy after all "Yeah, she's always been like that."

A bit more relaxed now Cash figured he might be able to get some information out of the stranger. "You met her at school right?"

"Yep, she and I were the terrors of St. Clair's Preparatory School. Neither of us fit in at Rich Girl High. She was a born rebel and I came from the other side of the tracks, so we naturally gravitated toward each other."

Sasha had told him a little bit about her year at St. Clair's. According to her it was the equivalent of "Clueless" meets "Carrie". She had been sent there on her sixteenth birthday a month after her parents had been killed.

"You knew her when her parents died?"

"Yeah, I think it helped that I had already experienced what she was going through. I mean even if your family is as screwed up as Sasha's was, it's still hard to be that alone"

Cash looked at her inquisitively.

"My parents died when I was thirteen… got into St. Clair's on scholarship." She explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He wasn't really, but that was what was expected of him. He had never known his own parents, and from what he had heard about Sasha's, he was the lucky one.

"It's okay, besides Mercy House for Homeless Children was a great place to learn how to evade 'coyote' hunters." She smirked at him.

"I wondered where you had picked that up." He laughed.

"What about you? You don't really strike me as the kind of man who makes a habit of catering to the rich and famous."

"I don't cater. Mr. Luna was a friend of a friend." He shot her an annoyed look.

Silence fell between them again, and Cash grew contemplative.

"Does she always push people away when she needs help?"

"Yes." She stated frankly. "In fact that's why I'm here. Four weeks ago I got an E-mail from her. Sasha told me a little about you and her uncle but also that she was going through somethings and that I shouldn't come to San Francisco."

Cash thought back, it had only been a little over four weeks since Sasha had been embraced. He clenched his fists at the memory of the Brujah pinning her down and ripping at her neck.

"So you came."

"She was raped wasn't she."? It was more of a statement than a question. She already knew the answer. She knew it four weeks ago when her arm bled for the first time.

It took him a moment to realize that she was crying. She wore the tears well, he mused. She wasn't slobbering, but letting them fall gently down her face. Sasha had cried like that after that Brujah bastard stole her mortality. "Yeah, she was." In truth he wasn't lying.

"I should have been here. We promised each other that we would always be there…We promised…" Her voice was sure but her breathing was ragged.

The moonlight was almost gone, and the darkest hour of the night was upon them. The cool bay breeze seemed to animate the forest with a thousand whispering voices, each telling the other the that this had been no light promise.

Cash woke to the sound of a lone mockingbird's song echoing in the mist. The horizon was a deep gray, as the early twilight waged war with the retreating night. Shaking off the morning due, he looked around him. He was still under the oak, but Loral was gone. Two ammunition clips lay in her place.

By the time he had found Loral it was too dark for him to lead them back to the compound without raising her suspicion. He had suggested that they try to rest before morning and then make it back when the sky lightened. She had agreed and fallen asleep under the oak. He had intended to stay awake, and watch her, but with everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours he was dead tired, and drifted from consciousness.

This was all rather disconcerting. He should have heard her leave. Maybe another thing she picked up at Mercy House? He knew from experience how much a place like that could teach you about the need to be discrete. Sighing, he decided to focus on finding her. It wasn't hard to pick up the trail. She must have an impeccable sense of direction because it led straight back to the mansion.

He waded through the whirling fog, until in the distance he thought her heard the stains of an entirely different song.

When Loral had crashed through the woods the night before, she had chased the setting sun. Now she found herself running to meet the dawn. The mansion loomed before her between the thinning vegetation. The night had been surreal. She had let herself open to a complete stranger. She had chosen neither fight nor flight, but friend. Was this possible?

Dawn and a new day were awaiting. She thought of Sasha, and all the pain she had gone through. She thought of her own decision not to fight. Today would be a day to celebrate, and forget their hurt.

She slipped between the guard stations, knowing that her passage would be noticed, but only well after the fact. Sticking to the shadows she reached the courtyard. Nothing to do now but blatantly announce her presence. She walked out on to the lightening brick, past a rather ornate fountain towards her truck. She spotted two people at the gates of the house pointing at her, but they made no movement to stop her. She smiled and waved, then quickly jumped into the bed of the pick-up.

It wasn't that the music was unpleasant, or that it was to early in the morning, honestly all the occupant of the Luna compound had been up since 6 pm the day before, it was just that it was entirely out of place. A simple melody suspended over a rounded base and a dance-beat-cord-progression hummed threw the most prestigious house in San Francisco.

The resident began to collect on the steps of grand entrance to view the spectacle unfolding before them. A young women clad in a black suit stood silhouetted atop a beaten old pick-up. A microphone hung loose in one of her hand, and her body seemed to move as one with the music.

The crowd grew, as more and more Kindred came to see who would dare to pull this stunt. Through the collection of gawkers and pointers moved the fiery curls of the one person who seemed to understand what was happening. Sasha pushed her way to the front lines, and couldn't help but smile as she saw Loral at the apex of the commotion.

From her perch on top of the truck Loral spotted her friend, among the strange faces. It was a welcome sight. She raised the mic to her mouth and sang out.

"Oh my love its time

You know how it feels

You read between the lines

You know me better than I do

I'm lost again my friend

You know I'm not a saint

You've known it all this time

So you've been waiting for me"

Sasha knew what Loral was trying to do. This had been the song, both of them had survived school by. It was the song that had told them they weren't alone. It was the song that had given them hope. Slowly she walked toward her friend.

Loral watched Sasha's approach and neatly dismounted from the cabin roof. The two women met eyes. The last time they had seen each other they had been girls…so much had changed. Sasha gently reached for the mic and sang the chorus.

"No I'm not a saint, not a saint

No I'm not a saint, not a saint."

The guilt was still there, but she had made it through the night.

The spontaneous dance party lasted well into the morning. At first the crowd just watched Sasha and Loral dance, but it didn't take long for a group of rather flamboyant artsy types to join them. A few songs later the majority of the property's guards had given into the music. Loral's prize possession, a one Speaker P.A. system, was set up in the back of her truck, and pounded out tunes that pulsed through the bodies of the cavorters below. Everyone it seemed could use a release form the stress of the past 12 hours. As the sun burned away the remaining bay fog, though the party slowly died. Cash's had finally shown up but at the sight of him Sasha nearly ran for the house. In futility Cash followed suit. Ultimately, Loral was left alone in the courtyard, to pick up her belongings and muse over the morning.

All and all it had gone rather well.

While they weren't busy dancing or DJing the two friends had caught up with each other. Sasha had dropped out of St. Clair's after Loral graduated, and roamed the country for almost two full years. Then her grandfather had died and she had come to San Francisco to live with Julian. Loral had entered college and with the help of summer school had graduated in two and a half years with a degree in social work and a minor in music. She figured she would settle down in San Fran for a while and see what the city had to offer. Sasha didn't mention the rape, and Loral didn't mention the promise.

A women in her early thirties, who Sasha introduced as Lilly Langtree had come over and just about demanded that Loral DJ at her club, in the near future.

Loral had apologized to Jeffery for her rude behavior.

Sasha said she had even spotted Julian at one of the windows giving a condescending glance downward at the revelry. Everyone found that rather amusing.

Loral sighed; it looked like her luck was changing. She picked her body up from where she had been sunning on the rim of the fountain, and lazily made her way to her truck. For the first time in…well she couldn't remember the last time…but she had actually let her guard down and just lived. It felt so good.

For some reason she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. 'Old habits die hard' she reassured herself, but still she gave her surroundings a quick scan just in case. The sight that met her eyes made her stop dead in her tracks. On the top of the stairs blocking the weak morning light stood the visage of Julian Luna glowering down at her. His shadow spilled down the steps and seemed to fill the entire courtyard. It threatened to swallow her too. In a momentary lapse her mind was seized by fear, but she fought down the urge to panic. Defiantly she returned his gaze.

If this was a challenge, she would meet it.

If this was a threat, Julian Luna had no idea who he was dealing with.