Brenda woke so abruptly in the evening that at first she thought she must have been disturbed by some noise. She lay still, listening with her newly keen sense of hearing for a sound that could betray the presence of an intruder.
She eventually came to the uneasy conclusion that no one seemed to be there. Perhaps this was just how she would wake up from now on.
She slipped out of the bed slowly, as quietly as she could. No sound came from Simon's room, and Brenda didn't want to disturb him from his sleep yet. She made her bed, folding up the blankets, pushing in the bed, and replacing the cushions on the couch, and then went to take a shower.
By the time she was through, Brenda found herself faced with the same dilemma she'd experienced the night before. She didn't know what she would wear. There was a clean terry cloth robe hanging next to the towels, which she slipped into, but she still didn't have any real clothes.
When she came out of the bathroom she found an outfit laid out on the couch for her. There was a black velvet skirt and a pair of black and red striped stockings, along with a lacy bodice that looked to Brenda more like lingerie than something a woman would wear outside of her home.
She saw Simon sitting in front of his laptop at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette. "Good morning," she said, immediately feeling awkward for the erroneous statement. Simon smiled at her as she gathered up the clothing he'd set out for her and hurried back into the bathroom.
She felt terribly exposed as she emerged from the bathroom, although she was glad that Simon had found clothing that generally fit her. The stockings rode down uncomfortably in the crotch, but she supposed most stockings did that.
Simon was still in front of his laptop, and Brenda could hear the news anchor from where she stood. "Things are looking bleak for missing girl Grace Simmons. Detective Brenda Wild, who was heading the investigation, has gone missing herself. There is evidence that she was forcibly removed from her home." Brenda hurried to Simon's side in time to see her picture on the computer screen.
"This is bad," she said. It wasn't unexpected, however.
Simon turned and looked up at her. "Once you put some make-up on, you'll be unrecognizable to anyone who didn't know you well," he assured her.
"I guess I do look really different," she admitted. "But I'm sure they know you're one of the last people I spoke to. What if they come here?"
"If someone comes here, we'll sneak out the window."
Brenda nodded. "And you know that you don't have to let them in here if they don't have a warrant."
Simon shook his head. "Not everyone in the Denver Police Force shares your ideals and ethics."
She sighed. "I know. Do you want a turn in the shower?"
"Is there going to be any hot water tonight?"
Brenda's face fell. "Probably not."
Simon sighed, but smiled as he rose to his feet. "That's all right. I'll be back."
Brenda watched the news while she waited for Simon to emerge. She carefully applied her make-up during a report about the dimming of the bright neon-blue sign at the top of the Qwest building. Regardless of the fact that it was dimmer, it was still an eye-sore tainting Denver's skyline.
Simon came out of the bathroom fully dressed, with a few strands of his damp blond hair sticking to his forehead. "Do you feel thirsty at all?" he asked her.
Brenda shook her head. She did feel a little thirsty, but not enough to want to brave Liz's club, and she assumed the animals in the Denver Dumb Friends League would need a little more time to recover from her visit.
Simon studied her with a frown for a moment. "In that case, it would be a good idea for me to introduce you to the Prince."
"Will there be many other vampires where we're going?"
"There may be, but you will be safe there. We're going to Elysium, which is a meeting place where our kind need not fear violence. No one will harm you there."
Brenda did not feel satisfied with this. "But the man who . . . kidnapped me is a vampire. What if he's there?"
"He won't be able to do anything do you in Elysium."
"And even if he can't, or if he's not there, what if my going there allows him to find out I'm with you? He'll know where I am, and then you'll be in danger too."
Simon shook his head. "That is a possibility, but it's all the more reason to let the Prince know who you are. You need his recognition as a citizen, and then you will be under the protection of our laws."
Brenda sighed. She was still frightened but she saw that she had no choice. And she wondered, then, if perhaps this Prince could punish her attacker for his crimes. "Do vampires have any laws regarding the treatment of mortals?"
"Not many," Simon admitted. "The Prince doesn't particularly care as long as no one endangers the Masquerade."
"So, they can just do whatever they want to people?"
"Within the limits of the Masquerade, yes. He doesn't care. But not all of us see it that way."
"Thank you." So, there would be no justice for her, and none for Grace.
"Come on. We should go and get this over with."
"Okay. But do you have a jacket I can wear?"
Simon smiled. "I'll get you one."
-
The Denver Public Library was closed for the day, but a man at the door admitted Simon and Brenda when they approached.
Simon led her into the elevator, where he pressed 4 – 2 – 1 – 4 in quick succession. The elevator doors slid shut, and the car traveled downward.
Brenda followed Simon out of the elevator when they reached what she presumed to be the basement. The room was dominated by a large table, and three people were seated at it in conversation.
One was a fairly unremarkable dark-haired woman. But Brenda was immediately repulsed by the monstrous sight of the two men also sitting there. One had a grotesquely oversized and misshapen head, while the other had no lips. Naked muscle came around his teeth as he spoke.
All three turned their heads to look at Brenda.
Something within Brenda woke as these predators turned their attention onto her. A primal sense of terror took hold of her, so intense that she was unaware of her own screams as she turned and fled the nightmare she faced. Once met with the unyielding elevator wall she pounded her fists against it in impotent desperation.
Eventually, she became aware that she was inside the elevator with the doors closed. They hadn't come after her.
Simon materialized out of thin air next to her.
"I'm sorry." She wasn't sure what exactly had come over her.
"I know you're frightened," he told her. "But I've told you, no one will harm you here. You are safe her. No one will hurt you." He reached out and lifted her chin so that she met his eyes. "Do you trust me?"
Brenda nodded guiltily.
"Are you ready to go back in there?" he asked gently.
She nodded once more.
"Will it help you if you hold my hand?"
Brenda considered for a moment. It was something a child would do, she thought. But she supposed that she was a child, in a way, and she did think it would make her feel better. So again, she nodded.
Simon extended his hand and she took it.
He pressed the button to open the elevator doors, and one of the men, the one with the deformed head, was standing and waiting. The other two sat at the table, watching. Brenda felt the flutter of fear once again, but she resisted it this time, repeating to herself that Simon had promised her she would be okay.
"Simon," the stranger hissed in a way that made Brenda cringe. There was obvious animosity in his voice. "You did not have my permission to Embrace a Childe."
"The circumstances were dire," Simon began.
"I do not care," he said, stepping closer. "You will serve me now until I feel you've paid for your transgression. You will come and report here each night for your duties."
Brenda's heart sank. Simon was going to have to serve this Prince indefinitely?
"Your first task is to bring find Morgan and send her here to see me."
"But she won't--" Simon began, and then immediately faltered.
The Prince took another step closer, and Brenda felt suddenly filled with revulsion, exactly like what she'd felt in the presence of her captor down in the sewers. She bit back a whimper as she clutched more tightly at Simon's hand.
"All right," Simon said quickly.
"Go. Don't come back without her."
Brenda went with Simon eagerly back into the elevator, and was flooded with relief as the doors began to slide shut, but felt as though she might jump out of her skin as a hand caught the door at the last moment, pushing the door back open.
The woman stepped inside, eyeing Brenda curiously. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Brenda."
"You don't have to talk to her," Simon said coldly.
For a moment, Brenda wasn't sure if Simon was speaking to her or to the other woman.
The woman ignored Simon and smiled at Brenda. "If you ever need to talk, you can come to me," she said. "I can teach you more than he can, more than he'll be willing to teach you."
"The things she would teach you are worthless," Simon retorted.
The woman continued to ignore Simon. "Here, this is my card," she said, reaching into a pocket and withdrawing a business card, handing it to Brenda.
Brenda looked at the card. It only had the woman's first name on it, which was Bethany, and the words Lancea Sanctum. There was a cross beneath it all. She nodded and slipped the card into her pocket. She was not interested in being recruited by some born again Christian. Apparently they existed even among vampires.
"Give me a call," she said as they reached the top floor and stepped out of the elevator.
Simon glared at her murderously as she walked away. "You might as well throw away her card," he said.
Brenda shrugged. "It's all right. I've never been very religious."
"That's because you've probably only been exposed to people like her."
Brenda shrugged again. Simon was some sort of Pagan, she'd figured. He patronized a metaphysical shop and knew a lot about the occult. She wasn't certain about that either, but she supposed she'd seen more merit in it over the past few days than she had in Christianity throughout her life. "The Prince was familiar," she told Simon in a shaky voice once they were outside.
Simon glanced at her. "What do you mean?"
"You felt it too," she said. "I know you did . . . it's the same thing I experienced when I was held prisoner."
"Oh. That," he said grimly. "I'm afraid that all Nosferatu, the Prince's clan, have that ability, to inspire fear in those around them."
"But it could have been him," she said quietly.
"The Prince is capable of doing something like that," Simon told her, "But I wouldn't put it past either of the Nosferatu you met tonight."
Brenda nodded. "Are there a lot of Nosferatu here?" What she really wanted to know was whether she'd faced her rapist that night without even being able to recognize him.
"It's hard to say. I will say this. If it is a known Nosferatu, it only leaves those two as options."
