The pain in his chest was gone.
That was what drove Jim Corrigan from his unconscious state, and back to the land of the living. The lack of pain – and the cold pavement under his back.
He moaned, and tried to sit up. Nausea flooded his head, and he almost lost balance, when a hand on his back steadied him.
"Easy, my friend. Take it slow. It's quite a shock."
Jim turned his head, and looked at the speaker. It was a woman, in her late 20's, wearing a black coat. Her hair was hidden under a tight fitting hat, which was the current fashion.
"Who…?" Jim began, but the woman raised her hand.
"Not now, and not here. Here, let me help you up."
As he got to his feet, Jim looked around and saw only the empty sidewalk. He remembered the black shape, coming out of the darkness – the man with the burning eyes and the shining teeth, and felt a chill run down his already cold spine.
"Ginger…where's Ginger?" he croaked, and again let his eyes run up and down the deserted street.
The woman pointed to the alleyway about 10 meters away. "In there…but James, I really don't think you want to…"
Jim pushed her aside, and ran for the alley. He only needed to look for a moment, before he knew the full truth.
Ginger lay against the wall, her eyes open, but glazed over and dead, like a fish on a dinner table. Even though her body was arranged so that she lying in an almost relaxed manor, there was no doubt in his mind that she was dead.
Jim walked slowly to her side, knelt and took one of her hands in his. It was colder, but still held a little bit of the warmth of life, that just a few hours ago had burned inside his wife. He kissed the fingers, and then held it against his cheek. The cop in him told him that he was tampering with evidence, but the rest didn't care.
"You were lucky….or I guess that is all depending on your point of view…" the voice sounded behind him.
"What…what the hell do you mean?", Jim asked in a voice as close to crying as he had come in years. And why shouldn't he cry, after all? The woman he loved more than anything, the woman that had given his life meaning in every sense of the word for the past 5 years – was lying dead at his feet, killed by a…a….
"A vampire can't kill you. In fact, not much can."
Jim turned around and looked at the woman standing behind him, her face showing both regret and sympathy.
"A vampire?"
"Yes, I saw him leave after his…meal. He drank you both, and then he left, but he could only kill her. Not you."
"Why not?" The question seemed surreal to him but he had to know.
"Because…you are immortal, James. Like me."
The woman took a step towards him, and put her hand on his shoulder. A strange sensation ran through his body, like an electrical current, and he gasped. Then, it was gone.
"That you just felt, we call the quickening. It tells you when another immortal is nearby. Don't worry, it only hurts the first time."
"Who…who the hell are you, lady?" Jim asked, shock apparent in his voice, and how do you know my name?"
She squeezed his shoulder, and looked him in the eyes.
"I am Gabriella Constanza Devargia, born in La Mancha in the year 1675. But call me Gabriella. And that is all I can tell you now." She put something in his hand, something small and flat – a calling card, he supposed. "When you have done all that needs to be done, come see me. We need to talk."
She gave his shoulder one final squeeze, and then turned around.
"Wait!", Jim called out, his voice almost sounding like his "cop voice", "what the hell is this? You can't just walk away like that!"
"I can, and I will. I realize that you have suffered a great loss right now, and need to work out your feelings. When you are clear in your mind, come to me. I will tell you more then.
She turned the corner. Jim stood for a second and simply looked after her, then he ran to the corner.
But she was nowhere to be seen.
"Ah, come in, James."
Gabriella Devargia stood in her doorway, a vision in a blue dress. Her hair was now loose, and the raven colour of it matched her almost black Spanish eyes.
Jim had used the last week to be both a grieving husband and a determined cop. He had arranged for funeral, flowers and coffin, while at the same time looking into stories that matched his own. Case files, testimonies, anything that could bring him closer to the truth of what had killed Ginger. He had gotten a good look at his – its – face when it came at him, and his memory for faces was excellent. He would recognize him between a thousand others. But the idea of a vampire was still so….so alien to him. Therefore he had decided to follow the only lead he had. Even if it sounded crazy.
"How do you know my name?"
"I read the newspaper. The Chicago Chronicle had an article about your wife's death. And since we are – in a sense – brother and sister, I decided to dispense from "Mr Corrigan. But aside from that, I know your name because the Quickening told me. Come this way."
She led him into a large living room, decorated in an old fashioned style. She turned around and looked Jim in the eyes, her face both serious and determined.
"There is much to tell you, Jim, and I am sure you have many questions. So, I will start by telling you the basic facts. You might want to sit down…this can be quite a shock."
"All right." Jim sat down in a chair, and looked at her attentively.
"As I told you in that alleyway, I am an immortal. And so are you. From this day forward, you cannot die, except in one instance – if your head comes away from your body. You will never age, grow old, get sick or feel pain for more that a short while. The source of this is the same which you felt when I touched you – the Quickening. It is an energy burning inside you, giving you strength and power. In time you will learn to control that energy and use it to your advantage. But what powers you, also powers others like you. There are other immortals, and when one of us dies, his Quickening…his powers, his essence, all that was him or her – gets released. If another immortal is nearby, he or she will suck up that energy like water through a straw. Therefore, all immortals fight an eternal battle with each other. One day, or so it is said, we will all be called to a specific place, to fight each other till the last. In the end…there can be only one."
Jim closed his mouth, which had fallen open in amazement.
"And you are saying that you and I….are both immortals now?"
"Yes. To become an immortal, you must die a violent death. You did, at the hands of the vampire. Then, you came back as an immortal."
"The vampire! I need to find him. I have to find out what or who the hell he is!"
"Finding him would be a very bad idea, Jim. You are so new at this, you would never stand a chance against a vampire. They are powerful creatures…and they are not the only thing that goes bump in the night. I'll tell you all about these things, but all in good time. First of all, you need to learn how to protect yourself, and to use your powers. And that – is something I can help you with."
Gabriella took a long wooden box from a small table by the window, and opened it.
In it, on a pillow of velvet, was a beautiful katana sword. The steel blade shone with a cool radiance in the light.
"This is a sword made by the sword maker Tchu-Yen in 1755. I got it as a present, when I stayed in his house and saved his son from a creature that we westerners would probably call a dragon. Now, I give it to you."
"I….I don't know how to use a sword…" Jim mumbled, his eyes locked on the blade, which seemed almost hypnotic.
"You will. I will teach you all you need to know. It will be part of your body, an extension of yourself. Pick it up."
Jim gripped the hilt of the sword, and lifted it free of the box. If felt fantastically well balanced in his hand. He swung it experimentally, and it felt…it felt right, somehow.
Gabriella's eyes seemed to glow with an inner light.
"It is perfect for you."
Jim parried the blade with a fluent motion, as Gabriella fainted to his right. He caught her sword with his, locked them together for a second, and then pushed them apart. They both took a step back, and Gabriella nodded approvingly.
"Good, Jim. Very good. You anticipated my move, and used that knowledge. However…"
She quickly spun around, and with a lightning fast move, she had her blade on Jim's neck.
"…however, you still have much to learn!", she finished, and smiled.
"Again!", Gabriella commanded, as Jim pulled back from another attack, that almost drove her to her knees.
"What do you mean?" he asked, breathing hard and exited. It had been the first time he had come so close to beating her.
"Never stop before the kill. You will only do yourself harm in spearing another immortal. If you let him live, he will hunt you down and kill you."
"But you were at your knees…"
"And that is how you want me. On my knees, defenceless, so you can take my head and absorb my Quickening. Never hold back. Never expect mercy."
"You're wrong, though."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want you on your knees. I want you on your back."
With that, he extended a hand to her, and she took it. He pulled her up, and into his arms.
"You know, that you will have to leave. And pretty soon."
"Why is that? I like my job here, I like the difference it makes."
"But you have a different set of rules to play by now. You are an immortal. You don't age. People will notice that."
"So what do you suggest I do?"
"I am planning on moving to New York soon. Come with me. We will settle down somewhere on the east coast, and take it from there."
"I'll come with you, but…"
Jim's eyes glazed over, and Gabriella saw it. "What is it, Jim?"
"The vampire. The one that killed me and Ginger. I have been asking around. He has left town too. I want to find him.
"I already told you, we should stay out of their way."
"I can't. Don't you understand that?"
"If you do, I won't be able to help you. It will be your fight."
"All right. I see. You're scared of the vampires?"
"I am scared of nothing, Jim! But why do you insist on wasting your immortal life with a lust for vengeance? Let me tell you something, that may seem hard. In a way, Ginger dying like that was the best thing that could happen. You won't have to leave her behind. Or even worse: Seeing her grow old, weak, her teeth falling out and her hair turning grey. To see someone you love wither away day by day is more painful than you can ever imagine!"
"You sound like…"
"Like I've tried it? I have. Time after time. Some were lovers, some were husbands – some even women. But it doesn't make the pain any less! Trust me. With you, I have finally found someone I can dare to love, someone who will not be left behind in the river of time. Stay with me, Jim. Don't do anything foolish. It's been 5 years – don't you think it is time to let it go?"
Jim took her hand.
"I love you too, Gabriella. But the one thing that makes us different will eventually be our undoing. Remember what you yourself have taught me. If it came down to just the two of us…could you take my head?"
Gabriella lowered her eyes, and Jim saw tears in them, something he only rarely saw. She mostly kept her feelings well guarded, and rarely let herself go. So much so, that when they made love, she rarely made a sound.
"Besides, as much as I love you, I still have this…this wound deep inside me. I want to heal it, to write the end of the chapter that was my old life. Then, you and I might have a future together."
"You are a lousy liar, Jim. You are afraid of getting hurt again, of loosing me. I know."
"You're right, I am. But I have to do it."
She nodded, understanding that his mind was made up.
"Go to the east coast, Gabriella. I will find you there, when I have found the vampire. And if you need me, I'll come. Just call for me."
"I will. And the same to you."
"I have never seen him."
The boy looked like he was 12, but Jim knew the looks were deceiving. The kid was probably older than he was.
"Come on, buddy. I know for a fact that this fellow came through your town 3 weeks ago. I have witnesses. Now, if he came through, it is a sure bet he would have talked to the Elysium. And I'm told you know everything that goes on there."
The years on the road had learned Jim a thing or two about vampire society – or Kindred, as they preferred to call themselves. Gabriella had been right, they were powerful creatures.
"Look, I am telling you I don't know him."
"Then I don't believe you." Jim handed him an envelope. The kid looked in it, snorted with contempt and then seemed to change his mind.
"All right, all right. I saw him. He came through, went to the Elysium, stayed at the motel 6 by the highway. He was here maybe 3 days."
"Where did he go?"
"How should I know?"
Jim grabbed his collar and shoved him against the wall, using the Quickening to increase his strength to something that would match the kids.
"Because I'm such a nice guy, and because I'm ASKING nicely!"
"Frisco!" the kid hissed, his face a mask of surprise over being gripped with that kind of strength.
Jim put him down again. Finally, after all these years, a solid lead.
The train swayed back and forth, as it moved through the dark night on the plains of the Midwest. Jim sat in his compartment, dozing, when he suddenly felt a strange sensation. It was a feeling he had learned to associate with supernatural things over the years, but it felt slightly different.
"The Quickening! An immortal is near!" he thought.
He got up from his seat, and reached into his bag, pulling out his sword and putting it under his coat. Then, he went into the corridor.
The train seemed deserted, as he walked through the cars, following the strange feeling in his mind. Most people seemed to sleep, but a few were sitting in the dining car, sipping drinks. Jim opened the door, and stepped in, looking around the car with a quick glance.
His eyes stopped at a man, sitting at a table by a window, staring into the night. The man turned his head and looked at Jim.
"My god, after all this time!" Jim thought, staring at the man, and feeling the man stare back at him. "He doesn't look like one of the ones Gabriella told me about – the ones that are ancient. But that means nothing. He could be four thousand for all I know."
The man had locked eyes with Jim, and he stared at him with a strange mixture of excitement and regret. It was as if the air in the dining car was slowly being charged with electricity, as Jim felt the quickening rush from both of their bodies and create the energy field that surrounded immortals when they fought.
"I almost didn't think there would BE any others! As she told it, there were so few of us that before the gathering, you could go for decades without meeting another immortal. And here he is…and I'm not so sure I want to fight him!"
What went through the other man's head, he could not know. But he slowly got up from his chair, put a couple of bills on the table, and took two steps away from the table, so he now stood right in front of Jim.
"Does he have a family? Friends? A woman that is waiting at the end of the line for him? What right do I have to fight and maybe kill him? He has done me absolutely no harm."
Gabriella's voice came from inside his head, so clear that it was like she was standing right behind him: "If you go into a fight with an attitude like that, you don't have to worry about what he will lose, because he won't lose anything. You will."
As the thought ended, the man turned around and walked away from Jim, opening the door in the other end of the dining car. Jim quickly stepped after him, and came into a short corridor, leading to the luggage car. The door to the luggage car was standing slightly ajar.
Jim opened the door with his left hand, carefully looking into the darkness. He saw a figure in the shadows, and ducked back, just in time. A shining blade came within an inch of his face.
Jim reached under his coat and drew his sword. He held it up in a parry stance, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"I am Jim Corrigan, of Chicago!" he exclaimed, as Gabriella had taught him was the custom before beginning a battle.
"I am Jean Bisson, of La Tour Rouge!", came the answer, the accent vague but obviously french.
"I have no quarrel with you, Bisson!"
"No Quarrel, indeed. There can be only ONE!"
Bisson lunged at him, and Jim parried, his blade sliding along Bisson's with a shine of sparks.
Jim turned the blade in his hand, and went on the offensive, spinning around with the sword over his head in a bold move. A clattering sound filled the room, as the tip of his blade pushed over several suitcases and wooden boxes.
Bisson saw his opportunity and kicked a shelf, making it fall into Jim, who lost balance. Bisson leapt for the door in the end of the car – the door leading to the open air. A stroke of his sword cut open the lock, and with a rush of wind, the door opened. Bisson was outside in the dark the next instant.
Jim got to his feet, crawled over the fallen suitcases, and followed him – but there was no sign of Bisson. Jim looked out into the darkness rushing by – and then it struck him: The roof.
Jim called upon the power of his Quickening, and leaped up, jumping higher than a normal person would have been able to. He gripped the metal edge of the train's roof, and swung himself up.
The wind howled around him, as he got to his feet and saw Bisson a few meters away, standing in fighting stance, barely holding his balance. Jim raised his sword and charged.
As the blades met, sparks lit up the night, and cast flickering shadows on the two men's faces. Jim felt both fear and excitement, since this was the first real battle he had been in.
Bisson turned around and slashed at Jim in broad arcs, forcing Jim backwards towards the edge of the car. Jim parried every one, but was quickly loosing ground. Then, he saw something coming out of the darkness, looming behind Bisson.
With only his reflexes saving him, Jim threw himself flat to the ground. Bisson only had a split second to wonder why his opponent moved in such a strange manner, before he was struck in his back by something large and hard. The impact made him loose his sword and it flew from his hand, clattering over the roof. In the instant where his feet did not touch the roof, Bisson saw the darkness was no longer far away, but all around him – they had driven into a tunnel. He was thrown face first into the metal roof, and only random chance kept him from falling out over the side of the train. He groped blindly for something to hold on to, found only the roofs uneven metal surface, and tried with his last ounce of strength to do so. Then, the thundering sound of the tunnel was gone, and he tried to get to his feet again, even though his body was in enormous pain and felt like several things were broken…
…and he saw Jim Corrigan pick up his sword, holding it for a moment – and then throwing it out into the darkness.
Jim stepped forward, and pulled Bisson up on his knees. Bisson stared at him, hatefully.
"Finish it!" he hissed, or tried to – with most of his teeth broken it was hard to be sure.
"I intend to!", Jim responded with a coldness in his voice that chilled even himself. He raised his sword over his head.
"There can be only one!" he exclaimed, and brought the blade down in a final slashing motion.
The headless body fell down like a rag doll on the roof, and the head rolled like a ball off the roof and down to the ground. Jim saw electric sparks begin to form around the now headless body, and gripped one of the little handholds in the roof, bracing him self for what he had been told would be a very painful experience. And he was not disappointed.
A bright light, like lightning bolts, sparked out from the dead body and enveloped him. He felt a rush of power so intense that he had never felt anything like it. His muscles burned with energy, as if he had been petting a dynamo. Then, finally, a lightning bolt made him scream with pain, almost losing his sword. At the same instant, every window in the train exploded outward in a shower of sparks. The brakes of the train drowned out Jim's scream, as the driver frantically tried to stop the train.
Finally, the light vanished, and Jim got to his knees. The train stood still, so getting to his feet was easier this time. With his last strength, Jim managed to drag himself to his seat in his compartment, and waited for the train to move again. Ahead were San Francisco, and the vampire. But inside Jim Corrigan, something, maybe the last part of innocence, had finally been wiped away.
The three men in the car looked at the man in the long coat coming out of the hotel.
"What's the deal with this guy, anyway?", one of them asked.
"He's been asking too many questions!", another answered, and the prince wants him taken care of."
"He's different, though", the third man commented from the back seat, "The Tremere said that he has magic energy in him. He could be a mage."
"Or he could be a lupine. Does it matter? The prince wants him out of the game, so we take him out."
"I don't know…it just seems like he could be dangerous."
The first man turned around, and his eyes glowed with a dangerous red colour.
"Are you a coward, Niklos? I always knew the Ventrue were more talk than action!"
"I am no coward, Jameson. I am merely thinking things over. Something the Bruhah have never been good at."
"If you two could stop insulting each other, maybe we could catch this guy before the turn of the century? It's only 6 months away, you know…"the second man said dryly, and started the car.
The three men followed the man in the coat down the street, and watched as he turned into a parking lot. The men exchanged looks, stopped the car and got out.
"Mister?" Jameson said. The man in the coat turned around, seeming to size them up.
"What do you want?", the man asked, his voice cool and relaxed.
"This is a dangerous city, mister", Jameson continued, "especially to go around asking questions about things that don't concerns you. People have noticed you, in a bad way!"
"Really?" the man said. He kept his eyes on all three of them, which was increasingly difficult, since they now spread out around him.
"We've been sent to make sure you don't ask any more!"
The second man – whose name was Grisham, although it has no bearing on the story – moved towards the man in the coat, moving superhumanly fast and gripped his arm. His plan was simple – simply rip the arm out of the socket and open the way for his 2 compatriots to attack from the other side. When his fingers gripped the fabric of the man's coat, however, things started happening very quickly.
The man reached under his coat, and suddenly he was holding a long and shining sword in his hand. He spun, and in the next instance, Grisham felt a sharp pain in his neck. Then, he sensed nothing more, as his body turned into ashes and fell to the ground in a small pile.
Jameson and Niklos didn't even have time to react, as the man swung his sword around again, holding it at the ready. He moved as fast as a kindred using celarity, but how could that be? He was human!
"So you're going to make sure? How are you planning to do that?" the man in the coat asked in a conversational voice, slowly spinning his sword in his hand.
Jameson and Niklos exchanged looks, and then they both moved forward, both of them intent on killing this man who mocked them so.
The man swung around, swinging his blade and with an inhuman dexterity moved out of the range of the vampire's hands. Then, a swing more – and Niklos felt a sharp pain in his arm, as it dislodged from the shoulder and fell to the ground. He staggered back, getting his bearings, just in time to see Jameson's head come off his shoulders. The whole fight had taken less than 10 seconds.
"Are you going to insist on me cutting off your head too? Or do you want to live another day?" The man in the coat asked.
"No…no…" Niklos mumbled, holding his bleeding stump. He tried to use his blood powers to heal the wound, but nothing happened. The arm just lay there on the ground.
Then, he turned on his heel, and ran out of the parking lot. This was out of his league, and the Prince needed to know.
Jim stood for a moment, looking at the severed arm and the two piles of dust. Then, he picked the arm up and threw it in a dumpster, put his sword back under his coat, and headed for his car.
The knock on the door woke Jim up from a dream of Gabriella, but he was alert and ready at a moments notice. He didn't feel anything outside the door that was supernatural, so he opened the door without his sword. He was aware, however, that his little fight 2 days ago in the parking lot would have consequences, so he was prepared for everything.
Except for a beautiful woman handing him an envelope.
"This is for you, Mr. Corrigan", she said in a voice that had a slight accent. She looked Hawaiian, and her smile was intoxicating. "I am supposed to wait until you have read it, and then drive you to the prince."
"The prince, huh?"
Jim opened the envelope, and disposed of my first three messengers, I am now sending a slightly less threatening envoy, to notify you of my will.
It seems, that we have a conflict of interests. I have a city to manage, and you apparently would be able to cause me considerable grievances, decapitating my subjects. This is of course, unacceptable in the long run.
I would like to meet with you. Please, let my envoy take you to the Elysium, where I wish to speak to you. I offer you immunity until we have come to an agreement.
Yours,
Robin A Rousseau
Toreador prince of San Francisco
Jim smiled at the Hawaiian woman.
"All right, let's go."
As Jim entered through the doors of the Elysium, he was struck by how little it was like he had expected. In his mind, he had seen something like the Peters church in Rome – but this seemed much more modern and stylish. He walked through what looked like an amphitheater, following his female guide. Behind the stage, they went through a few corridors that looked like any office building, and finally arriving at a elevator door.
"The prince will meet you upstairs, Mr. Corrigan. Have a nice day."
She pushed the button, and the elevator door slid open, revealing an elevator car with wooden panels and inlaid gold. No mirrors, though, Jim thought, and wondered if the prince was one of those few vampires that actually did not cast a reflection.
After a smooth ride, the doors opened again, onto a large and luxurious living room. The drapes were closed, giving the room a dark, but cozy feel to it. The only thing that seemed unnerving was the chill in the air…it felt like walking into a refrigerator.
At a desk by the window sat a man, tall and thin, with his hair combed back over his scalp. He had grey hair and a grey beard, and his eyes seemed both intelligent and alert behind the small glasses.
"Ahh, Jim Corrigan, I presume. Please, come in and sit down. We have much to discuss."
Jim stepped inside, slowly, trying to act cool without overdoing it and being cocky. It was after all, the first time in his long life he had met a prince of a city in person. This was a vampire that was not only hundred, but perhaps several hundred years old.
As Jim stepped closer to the table, he got a better look at the Prince, and felt a chill run up his spine. The man's skin was beyond pale, it was white like a fish's stomach. Also, when you were close to him, he emanated a feeling of raw power so enormous, that Jim had never felt anything like it. It made him feel like small animals was crawling on his skin, and he shivered.
The Prince looked at him intently. Jim felt it like the eyes looked deep inside his body, reading him as casually as he himself would flip through his file cabinet. He blinked, trying to break the connection to the prince's eyes, but to no avail. Fear crept in over him, not for his life, but a primal fear of the monster in the darkness, the thing in the closet or under the bed. The Prince was all of these things, collected into a creature that was the most dangerous of them all, because he had a hint of friendliness as well. This man could probably lift a finger and have hundreds of vampires jump him…and even though he thought he could put up a good fight, he didn't think he could stand against the entire army of the Prince. Briefly, he thought of Gabriella saying that she could not help him, should he choose to go up against the vampires, and wondered if he had finally bitten off more than he could chew.
Finally, the Prince spoke.
"I am Robin Rousseau, prince of San Francisco", he said, and gestured for Jim to sit down in the chair in front of the desk, "And you are the man that…disposed…of my three men quite efficiently. What is your secret, Jim?"
"With all respect, Mr. Rousseau, if I told you my secrets, I would not be a very intelligent man, would I?" Jim immediately regretted his tone of voice, but apparently, the prince took it in stride. He smiled.
"Indeed. But you can see my position here – I have a man who appears in my city, killing my subjects and generally making life difficult for me. I need to know if you and I can come to some sort of agreement, or if I have to take more drastic steps to insure my city. Do you understand where I am going with this, Jim?"
Jim swallowed.
"I must confess that I have never met anyone quite like you, Jim, and I mean that in a positive way. You are obviously not Kindred, but you don't have the feel of neither a Mage nor a Lupine…so what are you? Speak. And be aware that I already know part of the story from your…your aura, I suppose you would call it. So do not insult me by lying."
"All right, Mr. Rousseau – I will give you my story, so that you can see where I stand…."
The discussion lasted for several hours. The prince insisted that Jim told him about the immortals, asking him in-depth questions about the life of an immortal. Jim told him most of it, but conveniently left out the way to KILL an immortal. He did, however, tell that no immortal could be blood bound, ghouled or touched by the magic of the Mages.
At no point were they disturbed, but Jim most of the time had the feeling that someone else was nearby. He suspected it to be one of the vampires that could turn themselves invisible, but since he sensed no danger from it, he did not remark on it.
After he was done, the prince nodded thoughtfully.
"I see you could be a powerful player in this town, Jim. But I also see that you and I COULD co-exist, if need be. Tell me, what is your purpose of coming to my city in the first place?"
"Two things. First of all, I am looking for a place to set up a detective agency to deal in supernatural problems. I want to help people that get caught in a bad situation."
"Commendable. And the other?"
"I need information about a vampire. A very specific vampire, named Leonardo Giovanni. He's been in this city, and might still be here. Do you know him?"
The prince stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"I might be able to help you there, Jim. But – it will take some time, and some recourses."
"And…what would your price be for such a use of your time?"
The prince smiled, and looked at Jim. "Price? You insult me, Jim. I have no need of money. No, I will do this for you as a favour, because we are friends. And one day, you will remember this favour, when I ask one of you. That is how I run my city, Jim. What do you say, do we have an agreement?"
"I suppose we do, Mr. Rousseau."
"Good. I will also suggest that we keep our…interests…separated. I am not out to fight a war in the streets. I trust you will remember that, if you get into any entanglements with my subjects."
And as Jim left the office, he wondered how you were supposed to feel when you made a deal with the devil.
TEMPUS DETECTIVE AGENCY
J. Corrigan, P.I.
Jim looked at the door, and the new paint on it. It felt good to be back in the law enforcement business again.
He sat down behind his desk, looking at the framed PI licence over the desk chair. He picked up his sword, and started cleaning it with a piece of cloth. At times like this, he missed the two women of his life. Ginger, for her smile, her kindness and her gentleness, and Gabriella for her strength, passion and dark beauty. But he was alone now. As the immortals was meant to be. But still, he longed…