Prince of Los Angeles. Ethan had to admit it had a certain ring to it. And all he had to do to gain his throne was to fight his way through about six hundred Sabbat and a good amount of Black Spiral Dancers and Get of Fennris who were hunting the Black Sprial Dancers.

"A walk in the park."

"Excuse me, sire?" said Strahd.

"Nothing, childe. Thinking out loud."

Strahd just nodded. He never intruded into his Master's thoughts. Ethan looked at his charge for a moment. Regarded his thin nose and strong chin. His cold eyes hidden behind the sunglasses he always wore. Strahd was a daywalker. The only daywalker ever born. Ethan had read a piece of the Book of Nod once, how it foretold a daywalker would rise to power at the onset of Gehenna. The daywalker, or iLvahvlogx/i as the roughly translated version of Nug-soth's version of The Book referred to it, would give rise to the last, great city. Ethan's dark thoughts turned to how Nug-soth referred to the daywalker's service to his master as unconditional, when they were interrupted by a question.

"- the Brujah."

"I'm sorry, Strahd, what were you saying?"

"Sir, how are we going to involve the Brujah?"

Ethan took a deep breath and straightened his back. "I'm not sure. If they want to join in they are certainly welcome to do so. Max?"

A large, well-dressed vampire stepped from the shadows, "Yes, sire?"

"Go to Dallas and buy everything we'll need for the raid. And call Tony. We'll need his help."




The werewolves were Gaia's gift to herself, really. They lived to protect her. They were bestial, even more than the leeches. Goggles knew this. And the vision he had received from Gaia was a testament to her. Why did he have to spare the vampires? They were but an extension of the Wyrm. But he had never questioned his visions. He simply obeyed.

"Gorrith! Send for my nephew. Gaia has sent me a vision."

"At once, my king."

Goggles sat back in his chair and considered his vision. Considered it very, very carefully.



Ethan was worried. More than Max had ever seen him worry. And Ethan was always worried.

"Yeah, I'm looking for Tony."

"This is Tony. Max?"

"Yeah, hey. I need a favor..."



Tomorrow night. They would march under the full moon to the San Francisco Bay. The challenge had been sent to Goggles himself, and the response was concise.

"My people and I will see you there. May Gaia's will be done."

Ethan had never much thought about Gaia. He knew the werewolves had supposedly been created by Gaia herself, but had regarded that as more of a myth than truth. Gaia was about as real as Enoch as far as he was concerned. The werewolves were probably some sort of genetic byproduct. Some sort of species that had never been categorized.

iIt turned into a beast in front of me. I only escaped because I ran while my beloved was being torn to shreds./i

Ethan closed his eyes and mind to the pain. He could never forgive them for taking Mia away from him. He would never forgive them, either.

"Sire, it is almost midnight."

Ethan took a breath and reached for his sword, "Then we should be off. It is time."




The battle was almost here. Goggles could see the lights of their vehicles approaching, smell the scent of their dead skin.

"Remember my orders," he called out, "None but their weakest is to die. You will retreat on my signal."



There was a lump in Ethan's throat. He had lived for so long he could no longer count the years, but something about him still abhorred killing, in any form. He did his best not show it.

"Throw the silver frag grenades first. Once they detonate, everyone exit. We'll have a better chance that way."

Goggles checked his tommy gun was loaded. He aimed for the front vehicle, an armed jeep, it looked like.

"On my mark!" he called.

"Throw the grenades!" yelled Ethan.

There was a blast, something stung his cheek with a burning that made his toes curl and his eyes want to bleed, "Charge!" Goggles screamed.

"Jump!" screamed Ethan

Somehow, the Tremeres had done their job. Every human in the city was either asleep or completely uninterested in driving around tonight. The clash was bloody, horrifying. It reminded Ethan of The Burning Times. As if the ashes of the past had risen once again, fueling himself and those around him into making cinders of their enemies. The new moon aided him in his wolf form. He tore out throats, ripped off ears, and generally made havoc in all the ways that he could.

"Ethan!"

Ethan turned behind him to see a truly massive form. Never in his millennia of un-life had he ever seen a werewolf so massive.

"The king!" he said.

The werewolf's eyes seemed to glitter, and he charged toward Ethan, tommy gun firing rounds that split the concrete around him.

Ethan took on the form of mist, and glided over to the massive werewolf, turning to human form at the last second, and letting his protean claws rip the beast's flesh open. It roared and turned on him, batting Ethan aside with a fist that was almost as large as he was. He slammed into one of the bridge's steel cords, and felt the breath knocked from him. He hit the ground on his feet barely, his knees screaming under the sudden pressure. The beast was roaring and charging towards him. Ethan waited until the last second, then jumped, flipping and slamming his feet into the back of the beast's head. It fell forward, its face smashing into the same steel cord Ethan hit. However, it seemed to recover faster, turning to match Ethan's eyes as he once again landed on to the pavement with too much force for his aged knees.

There was a blast of gunfire from somewhere on his left, and the screeching of tires. Ethan saw four red marks erupt on the werewolf's chest. It seemed to smile, hardly acknowledging the pain, then scampered off, faster than Ethan could imagine. He got the feeling somehow the huge beast had been toying with him somehow. Then the jeep stopped in front of him, and arms grabbed him and pulled him inside to safety.

"We've won, sire!" Max called from the driver's seat, "The sabbat have been destroyed and the werewolves are on the run! Southern California is ours!"

"His," Strahd interjected; "It's Ethan's. If he decides to give any of it to us, then we should feel privileged."

Ethan felt weary. Reached for his sword and found someone had sliced his side open. He was bleeding profusely.

"Lie back, master. Let me heal you."

Ethan tasted the sweet blood Strahd poured into his mouth, then fell into a deep and fitful sleep.

The unlit moon fell behind the Earth, waiting for the sun to come again and bathe it's surface in light.