We had to take refuge Downtown which Isaac was unhappy about as it was Camarilla town. Even with the prince deposed this side of LA still answered to the masked men guided, appropriately, by a magician. After a day's rest I set out to explore with Kent, Yukie and Heather in tow. Isaac had gone to grumble reluctant promises of non-violence to Strauss, refusing to go so far as to use the word peace as he had yet to forgive the magic master for our stony gargoyle guest in the theatre. Damsel had gone to reconcile with Nines Rodriguez, the resident rebel this side of town and Rob had tagged along. Beckett was attempting to go over the stolen Egyptian goods with Anatole. Even Romero had business, slinking off to, in his words, 'find an old friend' which apparently wasn't an euphemism for seeking out a whore, at least not this time.

Kent grumbled about being a ghoul babysitter, ignoring Yukie's protests that she wasn't a ghoul before he lamented over there being nowhere interesting or new to take us. He dismissed my suggestion of the love goddess' church as a 'tired scene'. Overhearing some women in sequins talk about going to a private party in the Empire Arms Hotel he determined that we would get some decent clothes and go there. Of course this involved going to the late night boutique store with one of Kent's many stolen credit cards, an idea he regretted the moment we entered the shop.

"Oh sugar daddy Kent can I have this one?" I squealed out as I rushed over to a mini skirt made of gold sequins.

"Don't call me that!" Kent spluttered as the shop keeper frowned at us.

I smiled over at him innocently and quipped, "but why else could you be buying outfits for three women to party in?"

"Fuck sake kid you're doing that on purpose," he snarled before he put on a show of presence for the female shop assistance who looked ready to throw us out. When he caught her mousey brown stare she was instantly ensnared.

"Is that necessary?" Yukie complained as she frowned at him.

"As necessary as getting you out of that atrocious outfit is," Kent retorted heatedly. "Seriously, you have sauce stains on the jacket and blood on the top, why even wear white when you work in a noddle shop?"

Yukie shook her head at the Toreador and folded her arms in a show of refusal.

I snatched up a black, silk skirt and hurried over to Yukie with it. "Come on," I urged her with a smile, "it will be fun to spend Kent's money and go dancing. Have you ever been dancing?" I looked at her questioningly.

"Iie," she retorted with a shake of her head.

"It's almost as fun as hunting for unicorn bunnies," I informed her sincerely.

Heather had already selected a couple of outfits and headed off to the changing room. The redhead was disappointingly anti-sociable with myself, a pity since I liked friends and was in need of more mortal ones to balance them against the vampires. I looked to Yukie hopefully, I missed the nights of getting ready with Samantha, sipping at cheap alcohol whilst singing along badly to our favourite tunes as we swapped bargain bought outfits and tried to enhance them with glittering jewellery that was all deceptively false.

Yukie sighed. "Alright," she gave in, "if we must attend this...party." She looked over at Kent curiously but he was busy chatting up the sales' woman. "Is it a ruse?" Yukie asked hopefully. "Perhaps we are to intrude upon demons in secret?" she quipped quietly.

I shrugged and smiled. "Hotels have many secrets, gangsters, brotherhoods, royalty, they are built for sinful nights."

I snatched up a few more outfits and led Yukie to the changing rooms. With effort and time we finally chose our outfits for the evening. By the time we did Kent had fed off the assistant and grown bored and Heather's outfit had already been purchased and she had changed into it.

With our outfits picked, purchased and put on we were ready to party. It was odd that I felt a thrill of excitement at the thought, how could attending a mortal drunken gathering seem so appealing when I spent my nights on adventures with vampires that included raiding museums and fighting snake monsters? I realised as I linked arms with Kent and Yukie that perhaps there were some aspects of my mortal life that I missed more than I realised.

"You know you look elegant," Kent remarked to me as we walked, "at least for you."

I smiled as I gazed down at my dress, it was black with a V neck embroidered in gold, thin gold straps and it was backless with a slit up the right thigh. "I no longer have the beauty of the vampire," I remarked remorsefully, "but perhaps this classic style will keep the Baron's interest."

"Oh kid don't get gloomy," Kent chided me as we arrived at the entrance to the hotel, "Isaac will always be interested in you."

We entered with ease, the security guard barely blinked at us whilst the receptionist eyed us only briefly before Kent led us to the elevator. We rode it up to the fifth floor with two other men and two women who were dressed to party just as we were. When we exited we found the party in full swing having already spilled out of the rooms and into the lobby. It was a wonder the hotel hadn't shut it down.

Music blasted from all directions, modern pop tunes that were easy to dance too, and everyone seemed in high spirits. Kent used his presence to influence some space and create a path to the centre point, a large bedroom thriving with action. When we entered we found nothing had been left to the imagination.

"Er are they..." Heather left her revolted question unspoken.

We all looked to the bed and I filled with a rush of emotions. Pleasure filled this area, a warm, seductive presence bid us to be calm, happy, open and free, to welcome the pleasure in all its forms. Groaning and moaning mingled with the music as bodies writhed together in many forms of dance and love.

"Almost," Kent mused.

"What kind of party is this again?" Yukie quipped with disgust.

"They've probably just had too much to drink," Kent said dismissively as he turned us away.

We all tensed as the hostess appeared before us. She was bright and welcoming, a sultry beauty who mesmerised me with her looks and charm. She smiled at us and I instantly felt elated by it. "Welcome to the gathering of the Brotherhood," she addressed us softly though her pale grey gaze was for Kent alone, "are you here to join us brother?"

"Kent you didn't tell us you had another sister!" I cried out in annoyance.

"I don't," Kent grumbled as he looked back at the woman with wariness.

She let out a gentle giggle. "Come now, you are all welcome here. Mingle morsels, make friends, drink and fill yourself with pleasure."

I felt a warm tingle dance through me and broke free from Kent to obey.

"It's alright, everyone is safe here," she said assuringly, "this is a place of fun and freedom. Come handsome stranger, you are a guest, I am the hostess, a dance is due."

I glanced over my shoulder to see the woman extended a slender golden hued hand out to Kent much to Heather's displeasure.

Kent smiled back almost with a dazed expression and accepted. Lured by the call of music I hastened on.

I drank and danced until I was tired and dizzy. I felt many hands and lips brush against me but I resisted, none would have me tonight save the Baron. It was odd but much as I didn't want the party to end I wanted to leave, my selves were at a rivalry yet again, silly selves did often struggle to be whole. Occasionally I thought the moans of pleasure were full of pain and I remembered the hedonistic and sadistic whims of my dead master. I caught flashes of red at the edges of my eye but I could not focus on them.

I was hot, too hot, shiny with sweat and panting. My chest heaved against my dress as I fought from a breath. I was striding towards something, hands were reaching to the straps of my dress to reach my bust so I might breathe better. I tensed against the hands and realised they were my own. I needed to go, we all needed to go!

I started to run when a cold arm reached about my arms and waist and pulled me back. I glimpsed Kent just ahead and opened my mouth to scream but an icy palm clamped against my lips and silenced me.

"We need to go now you fool!" That arrogant, commanding voice, I knew it! It called to Kent. I glimpsed a blonde in the crowd as I struggled vainly against my captor. The fallen prince! He was facing Kent, forcing Kent's attentions upon him. How was he here? Was this his trap?

"Shush little morsel," a male's voice murmured in my ear, "you are mine now. Let me be your midnight guide to the Brotherhood."

I tried to struggle and protest but his hand moved down to my throat and I found myself strangled into unconsciousness.

I awoke to bonds and darkness. My hands were tied with rope in front of me, my feet were also tied together, a bindfold kept me in a perpetual darkness and a gag bid me to silence. My gladness at being able to awaken was immediately banished by my fear of my new predicament. I felt wood beneath my legs and smelt a sickly odour of rot in the air. There was a moaning noise in the air, faint and distant but still unnerving.

"Little morsel I hear your heart pounding," a voice called out mockingly.

I tensed feeling cold hands clamp down on my shoulders from behind without warning. I felt a cold breath brush against the skin on my neck and was desperate to recoil from the stale stench of sickness that came with it.

"You don't have to be frightened I am here to help you, to enlighten you," he murmured as he rubbed his fingers up and down my bare arms sending fresh chills through me. "I thought you were part of the cattle to feed upon but you're different, not enlightened yet but close perhaps."

I whimpered unwittingly when his tongue licked along the edge of my neck.

He let out a low snicker and leaned into my right ear. "You are one of those Ghoul creatures," he mused. "You can be a warrior for us, a carrier of the disease, let it spread to the masses and bring about the end so we can journey to the Ninth Circle together."

I had no idea what he was talking about, he sounded mad but he was no Malkavian. Kindred yes but this one had an odd flair of dramatics about him that suited the Toreadors best. Yet I could not imagine he bore Kent's style or Isaac's grace, odd sort of Toreador if he was one. Ah but yes he was sick, unwell in the mind and body, diseased Toreador!

I heard the moaning again but now it was closer and accompanied by the sound of feet being dragged along the floor. It was akin to the sound the zombies had made in Hollywood and with it came the sweet sickly odour of rot.

"You have nothing to fear, I'll show you, to the diseased cattle I am god."

My blindfold was removed and I immediately wished it wasn't. Before me were mortals caught between life and death, poisoned, they were mad in the mind and flesh, akin to zombies but not quite the same. They moved about the large, tired looking room we occupied without any obvious purpose. They were the carriers of pestilence, servants of the rider on the white horse. When one, a pus faced man, came limping towards me I instinctively recoiled back into the cold waiting arms of death.

"It is better to have a purpose," he murmured, "to be part of something. They will help me usher in the end and you will too."

I shook my head in protest and felt his hot breath brush against me again as he laughed in my right ear. "You do not get a choice in that." He reached along my cheek, brushing his fingertips against it softly before gripping the gag and tugging it down. "This is the only choice I will grant you tonight morsel, you can sleep up here with the shambling servants of the Brotherhood or down with me."

I tensed when his tongue licked along my cheek promising worse things. A female stumbled in her shambling and landed at my feet with a loud groan. She pressed her disease ridden hands against my bare legs, rotting fingers gripping along my limbs as she started to crawl, climbing up my body towards my torso. I jerked my bound feet hard, slamming them up and into her torso. My feet slipped through her ribcage like butter and doused my legs in a spray of blood and rotting flesh. All the while the woman continued to climb, ignorant to her body tearing apart.

""Make your choice," my captor murmured before his hands slipped away from me.

He stood up and started walking off, granting me a glimpse of himself at last. He was tall with skin so pale it had a bluish hue to it. He was topless showing off a toned body spoiled with bloody sores, his lower half hidden beneath stained, worn jeans. He turned to cock his head over his shoulder and grin at me. I sensed the power of his presence and knew I should resist but I was frightened so I let its false warmth brush against me in an attempt to calm my nerves. He had a roguishly handsome face, scruffy, dark brown hair, messy stubble and sharp, penetrating, frosty blue eyes. Smears of blood at his mouth and dark brown stains about his eyes added a frightening element to his appearance but did not detract from his looks.

"I'm a monster," he remarked, "but at least I admit it unlike so many demons that plague these streets, taking life without permission and sullying so many. What God watched over me when that demon tore into my neck and made me into this monster you see before you?" he quipped bitterly. "Who is the real evil, the originator who does it knowingly or the child who has no choice?"

The cursed people had started to encircle me, moaning and shuffling as they drew closer, limbs reaching out to me hungrily. My feet had slipped free from the female but still she tried to clamber up me. My captor's grin widened just before two men blocked him from view.

Hands pawed at my hair and limbs. I jerked left and right but could not avoid them. He said I had a choice, the frying pan or the fire, the lesser demons or the prince of hell. He was walking off.

"Wait!" I shrieked as too many sweaty, pus plagued hands brushed against me. "I'll go with you!"

He let out a low chuckle before shouting, "away from her!"

I filled with relief as the zombies shuffled away but it was short lived as his icy gaze was upon me again. He faced me fully and stepped up to me. "Call me Bishop Vick," he said with a frightening, fanged grin. He bent down and plucked me up sideways before he started to carry me away from one horror and towards another.

I filled with despair and wondered if Beckett could feel it. Where was Kent? Had he noticed my absence? Had Yukie or Heather? Were they safe or in the same kind of danger as me?

"What about my friends?" I asked quietly.

"I left them with sister Jezebel, they are her concern not yours or mine," Bishop Vick answered dismissively.

Jezebel, our treacherous hostess. "The diseased whoremaster," I murmured.

Bishop Vick chuckled. "She spreads the message of the Brotherhood, each new whore is a new seed of corruption ready to blossom and bear poisoned fruits to take this world to the next and into the Ninth Circle."

"Why do we pass Circles One to Eight?" I pondered.

"There is only the Ninth."

I staggered weakly through the streets. My head was pounding, and my flesh both cold and hot as it bubbled with goosebumps and yet stank with sweat. My vision was blurred and each step cost me as I swayed and my body threatened to fall. Where was I? I pressed against a cold brick wall and clutched at it desperately with both hands. My throat was burning. I reached my right hand to it and my fingers came away with a smearing of thick, red blood. Diseased blood. I caught a flashback of fangs intruding against my flesh, bruising it as I tried and failed to resist the invasion. I had been filled with sickness, a vessel to carry rot upon the world.

I slipped to my knees and landed ungracefully in a puddle. My ears were ringing and the world was spinning.

"Ariadne!"

No, not now, please, too late, too late!

"Ariadne!"
I looked ahead and shook my head as I recoiled back from the anxiously approaching figures. "You can't! You can't!" I protested as I waved them back. "Please, I'm infected!"

The Baron's feet skidded to a halt as he looked at me aghast. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Where have you been all this time?"

All this time? How long had it been? How many days had been stolen from me this time? I winced as my stomach churned and let out a moan as the vomit came charging up soaking my tattered dress.

"She is sick," Beckett commented dryly.

"No shit," Damsel's no nonsense voice sneered. I heard a pang of worry in her voice.

"In the blood," Beckett murmured, "I feel it."

"The withered horse took me on a poisoned ride," I rasped miserably as I gasped for air. "The disease will only worsen and spread, do not touch me."

"Ariadne you're mortal, no mortal sickness could harm us," Isaac called to me pleadingly.

"Nines talked about this," Damsel remarked. "A disease in town, plague bearers who are part of some doomsday cult."

"Plague bearer," Isaac snarled with disgust. He looked at me with woe before his amber stare filled with determination. "Well it can't be spread by mere touch," he said sternly. "Let me help you Ariadne, we will find a cure for this, I promise." He came at me too quickly for me to evade him and plucked me up with ease.

I groaned in protest as my vision danced to red. "What about Kent?" I queried weakly.

Isaac sighed. "We've been looking for him too but he hasn't turned up yet."

"The hotel with the arms," I murmured tiredly. "The whore queen." I flinched as I caught an image of Bishop Vick naked and lapping at tiny, bloody bite marks on my body. Pain and pleasure like only a Toreador could give. Pleasuring and spoiling me all in one go before he cast me out to the streets to disease others.

"Shush," Isaac murmured softly as tears slipped down my cheeks, "we will find Kent, don't worry. You're not well Ariadne, close your eyes and I'll get you to a bed."

"It's no normal disease Isaac," Beckett cautioned.

"I know," the Baron grumbled. "Strauss mentioned the plague bearers. I suppose I must go back to that damnable Tremere and see if a cure is known yet. What about your blood?"
"It can perhaps stave off the effects for her," Beckett murmured, "but the disease is in the blood, it wouldn't be easily banished."

"Drain her," Anatole spoke up brightly. I had not even noticed him nearby. "Every drop."

"She would die foolish madman," Isaac scorned him.

I shut my eyes at last as the street lights stung at my eyes and made my head sting. I hated being mortal, mortals were too vulnerable.