Sophia slowly wound her way though the crowded club. It was just past one in the morning, and the place was packed. Squeezing past one final knot of partiers, she found her table. Allyson was still there, talking to a rather attractive Hispanic woman, her upper body weaving slightly. As Sophia approached her seat, the smaller woman spotted her and waved.
"Gotta go Bea. My date's here.", she said with a leer. "Seeya Tuesday?"
The other woman smiled and agreed. Giving Sophia a speculative look, she headed of into the crowd. Not before Allyson got a good goose in. Sitting down, the Chosen gave the Favorite a withering look. Allyson tried her best to look innocent. The shit-eating grin spoiled the effect.
"Whaaat? Gotta touch base with my girls,ya know." The slur in her speech was quite evident.
"Your girls? You have a clientele?"
Allyson put a little too much effort into her nod, but caught herself before she slid out of her chair. "Yeah babe. Everybody wants to know what Daywalker tastes like." She leaned over the table and smiled seductively at her companion. "You want another go?" A spotlight from the dance floor swept passed over their table, and Sophia was startled to see that only one of Allyson's pupils contracted.
"I think its time for you to retire for the evening Miss Allyson."
Still leaning on the table, Allyson shook her head, giggling when her hair fell in front of her face. "Nope, I haven't started pissing alcohol crystals yet, so there's still room for more. Besides, I can still touch my finger with my nose. See?" Allyson moved her right arm so she could demonstrate. Unfortunately, she was supporting herself on her elbows, and this unbalanced her. She made a pathetic attempt to steady herself on one arm before rolling over and off the table. Sophia was frozen in shock, trying desperately not to laugh at the mercurial woman. She was relieved when the sound of soft giggles came from the floor. A small hand waved over the edge of the table.
"Check please?"
2
Sophia sighed as she sat down at her mahogany writing desk. It had taken almost 30 minutes to get the barely conscious Allyson to the room Fatima let her use when she crashed at the club. Weaving the smaller woman through the crowds was bad enough, but Sophia didn't know where Allyson's room was, and the living section the the back of the club was enormous. Luckily she had run into Casper, and Balthazaar's lieutenant was able to direct her to the correct room. The Daywalker had passed out as soon as she flopped onto the bed. Smiling to herself, Sophia opened one of the side drawers and pulled out a small book. Flipping through the handwritten script until she found the first blank page, she picked up a pen and started to update her journal. She sat absorbed in part of her daily routine for quite some time. She had just come to Allyson's drunken hijinks when she felt a feather-light touch on the back of her neck, sending chills down her spine. It slowly traced the lines of her Glyph before trailing down the exposed skin on her neck. As the finger came to the fabric of her blouse, it withdrew, and was replaced by a warm breath tickling her ear.
"And how is my Chosen tonight?" Sophia could feel Fatima's presence envelope her, making her heart rate skyrocket. She suppress her urge to jerk away, knowing that was what her Mistress was trying to make her do. Calming her breathing, she spoke in a perfectly level voice without turning her head.
"I am well Mistress. I have been working on the assignments you gave to me." The hand resurfaced, this time moving down the side of her blouse. The sensation of the silk against her skin caused her eyes to lose focus.
"Very good. And your progress?
Focus Sophia, focus. Cold water..... "Ah, I was able to finish all 3 passages from the Book of Erebus ...", the hand wandered down to the top of her thigh, and Sophia fought to keep the tremor out of her voice. "... I have my notes and interpretations on your desk." The hand's sibling joined the fun, performing slow circles across Sophia's stomach. "A-and I spent the evening with Miss Allyson in the club. I believe I had several insights."
This time the whisper came in her other ear, and the hands merrily went about their business.
"And what did you learn from observing my Favorite?" As the question was finished, Sophia felt her Mistress's teeth gently clamp down on her ear and giving it a light tug before releasing it. At this point, she was blushing so furiously that she was afraid that the blood would begin leaking out of her pores. She was silent for almost a minute. Finally Sophia was able to get enough moisture back into her mouth to speak.
"Miss Allyson is haunted by her past. S-several times there were points where I think something reminded her of the past, and she didn't seem pleased." The one hand began move its circles higher up Sophia's stomach. "She is also extremely independent. I made the mistake of implying that she wasn't. She also seems to have some sort of problem holding her alcohol. I don't know if its her size or something else, but she became extremely inebriated after consuming less than I thought would effect a Vampire." Her Mistress's Presence faded from her senses, and the hands withdrew from her body, but not before one gentle caressed the underside of Sophia's breast. Relieved that the 'test' was over, she slumped at bit in her chair. Looking down, she realized that she had been holding her journal the entire time, and had unconsciously turned it into something vaguely pretzel shaped. Behind her, she heard liquids being poured. Shortly after, a plain glass goblet of white wine was offered to her. Gratefully accepting, she hesitantly looked at her Mistress. Fatima was smiling one of her patented neutral smiles, but Sophia could see a glimmer of pride in the Vampire's eyes. Downing the wine in one gulp, she set the goblet down before her still-shaking hands could drop it. Fatima sat down in one of the extra chairs, playing with a wine glass of her own. She took several sips, giving Sophia enough time to collect herself.
"Sensuality is both a toy and a weapon in the hands of a Vampire, and one must be prepared to deal with it, not matter the source. You did well Sophia, and you are progressing quickly." A look of true amusement flashed quickly across her face. "If a man had tried to do that to my Favorite, she would have rearranged his skeletal structure. But that is part of the reason you are my Chosen and she is not." Sophia blushed at her Mistress's praise. "As for her reaction to alcohol, it is a quirk of biology. Ghoul's lack the enzymes that metabolize ethanol. As a result, what she consumes does not get broken down in her system, and effects her more strongly. The positive side effect is that the ethanol is flushed out of her system faster, and without leaving the toxic metabolites that are so much fun the next day." She drain her glass and stood, handing the empty goblet to Sophia. "Know I recommend that you get some sleep my dear. We have a fairly busy day tomorrow." With that, she swept from the room. Sophia set the glass down on her desk, and let the remainder of the tension flow out of her body. She had planned on staying up a few more hours, but in the wake of her visitation, the woman was bone tired.
"Sleep good, But first, a bit more wine."
3
Burning. It ate is way up her legs as her flesh charred again. She felt her hair catch and bring the pain up her back. Soon the pain from the spikes in her wrists and ankles were a distant memory, overshadowed by the fire crawling up her torso. She screamed herself hoarse, and continued until she felt the tearing in her throat, just as she had the previous times. Then she felt the fire slip over her face, heat popping her eyes in their sockets. She gasped in pain, and the heat entered her, searing her lungs before she could even try to scream....
"NNNYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Allyson screamed herself awake, thrashing at the tangles that bound her. With a violent jerk, she was falling, and hit the floor without feeling it, the culprit sheets floating down on top of her. Sweat was pouring off her body in rivers, and her heart was practically fibrillating. She could still smell her flesh burning, hear the chanting of the crowd. In a blind panic, she scrambled towards the bathroom, knocking over anything that got in her way. Reaching her destination, she tore open the shower curtain and cranked the cold water to the max. Crawling under the spray, she let the water flow over her. Realizing she was still dressed, Allyson simply ripped the vinyl material off her frame, giving the freezing liquid full access to her body. Curling up into a ball, she sobbed silently to herself, letting the water wash away the memories...
Allyson came to with a start, her chattering teeth nipping her tongue. With a groan, her reach over and turned on the warm water and turned down the cold, changing the flow to a warm rain. Letting her body reabsorb the warmth her panicked cleansing had robbed from it, she sat up in the tub. With dexterity born of practice, she manipulated the controls with her feet, shutting off the shower. Getting out of the tub, she grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around herself, not bothering to dry off. Stepping over the shredded remains of her clothes, she walked to the vanity. Staring back from the mirror was a dreadful sight. It was a frightened little girl, her skin pale from shock and her eyes bloodshot from crying. She was wrapped in a too-big towel making her seem even smaller and more vulnerable.
This definitely would not do. Heading back into the bedroom, she grabbed a set of spare clothes she kept there. While not her customary black vinyl, the black silk blouse and leather pants were cut in an adult fashion. Throwing them on, she headed back to the mirror. It was an improvement. Next she combed out her snarled hair and but it back in its customary ponytail. Now for makeup.
You march right back upstairs and clean that stuff off your face right now young lady!
Allyson smiled. Makeup was one of the rites of passage into womanhood. A little something to highlight her cheekbones, a bit of lip gloss, and a touch of purple eye shadow. Not enough for people to consciously notice, but enough to erase a large amount of the girlishness from her face. And then, the attitude. She straightened out her posture, stretching out to her full 4' 11". Shifting her weight slightly created the 'I could care less' posture. Making eye contact with herself, she pushed a slightly bored expression onto her features. She then put the slightly amused smirk in place, followed by the dangerous look in her eyes. Mentally, she rebuilt the construct she depended on.
That little girl is dead. Buried almost 25 years. My name is Allyson L'ourax. I'm lean, I'm mean, and I don't give a fuck about you unless you got the cash.
Allyson's smirk deepened into a dangerous looking smile, accented by her extended canines.
"Yes boys and girls, the Bitch is back...."
4
The room was sparsely furnished, and what was there looked old and worn. Sounds from the surrounding apartments filtered though the paper-thin walls. The occupant didn't care about any of this. He simply sat on the floor, studying various photographs by candlelight. Small and weak slivers of daylight played around the edge of the garbage bags used to seal off the single window. The man opened up another envelop full of photographs and began to sort them. They were all of Allyson moving about during the day. J'son Arkinas hissed in anger. He had spent this time prior to his activation making arrangements through Clan contacts for support in his assignment. The people that had tailed the diminutive Daywalker had done an excellent job, but the assassin was still frustrated. His target was either very smart, or very paranoid, or both. She did almost all of her business during the daylight hours, leaving only quick back and forth errands at night. Her home was a well disguised fortress, bristling with UV lamps attached to motion sensors. And Al-Roshta's nightclub was a safehouse, making it inviolate to Clan Arkinas 'business', even if he was foolish enough to violate an Old One's turf. The familiars and mercenaries he had at his disposal could certainly ambush the target during the day, but Clan law demanded that he himself complete the assignment he accepted. He would have to devise a way to draw her out into the night. But what bait would be sufficient? His musings were interrupted by a beeping coming from a suitcase on his left. Grunting in irritation, J'son popped the latch and opened it, revealing a small vidcom unit. The screen lit up, showing an icy-cold Marie VanStat.
"Did you receive everything to your satisfaction?", she asked without preamble. J'son nodded. "Good. The meeting has concluded. You are now Activated." The picture blinked off. J'son grinned at the dark screen, baring his canines. He quickly stood up and reached behind the bed's headboard, bringing out his longsword. Unsheathing it, he ran his palm down the edge, drawing blood. Wrapping up his hand with a few quick motions, he assumed a kneeling position, his sword held out in front of him.
By the Blood of the Arkinas, I sanctify this weapon for the Hunt. May the Dark Mother guide my hand, and let this instrument of my Clan taste the Blood of my Prey. The ritual finished, he sheathed the bloody weapon and placed it back behind the bed. Pulling the vidcom onto the bed, he began dialing numbers. He had a Daywalker to flush out....