I shifted about the taxi uncomfortably, I was suspicious of the driver, purple, everything about him was purple and those shades of his, what were they hiding? More to the point why was he always driving the taxi I got into? Why was it always him? He just seemed to be everywhere, but how? It was quite a handy trick really; one I would like, then I could divide up my minds and see what it was like to exist with just one at a time.

I felt Kent's grey eyes boring into me, he had ignored me for the first hour of the journey before I finally coerced him into three games of eye spy but eventually he had grown bored of that and turned grumpy. He was more interested in fixing his hair, typical Toreador I supposed.

I was longing to see Isaac again, to persuade him that he needed me with him; to tell him how lonely I had been without him even though I had the voices for company. Yet there was a reluctance in me too, one side of me was quite content to rush to his side and stay there but the other, the other was like that part of me that seemed dragged down with Sarah when I fed, it was my complicated half, twisted and turned by past events. That half of me was remembering how last night had ended and questioning whether I really was ready to completely throw my lot in with Isaac. Certainly I was devoted to him and his mixture of sentimental Toreador and tough, ruthless Baron, but the Anarch side; well could I devote myself to that?

In truth I cared little for the politics of humans or vampires, I had enough debates in my head without joining anyone else's. I liked the Prince, I like the Baron, couldn't we all just be happy and I would have a summer home with one and a winter home with the other? Feeding with Sebastian had been nothing short of spectacular, he had been a whole different Prince then, prompting me to wonder if he was a secret Malkavian. He had become ruthless and wild, a predator through and through, driven by the blood hunger, spurred on by his hunger and his need to survive. I had joined in with equal desire, invigorated by the scent and taste of fresh, hot, boiling blood. I had rejoiced as my fangs had broken soft flesh, and greedily sucked up all the carmine ambrosia that had come pooling up into my mouth.

It should have gone quicker since it was shared but for once I had been calm, slow and delicate about the matter, perhaps influenced or restrained by Sebastian's presence. He did not tear like a Gangrel or torture like a cruel Sabbat of the Tzimisce kind, even as he fed he still showed signs of his Ventrue kind, he had our victim Mesmerised, kept under a spooky trance that kept her quiet even as we slowly drained her.

He had pulled back, satiated with his fill and I had felt his cold blue eyes willing me to stop. All of my minds united for a rare moment to inform me that killing a human before the Prince was probably not a good idea, not quite an insult to the masked men but not exactly a good move either. So with reluctance I had stopped. It was strange because Sarah had not come throughout the feeding, not once had that whelp annoyed me, instead I had merely been dominated by both the feeding and Sebastian's very obvious presence. When I had turned and eyed the crimson blood glistening down his chin and neck I had been unable to resist licking it from him.

He should have thrown me off and scolded me but he had not, instead he had lapped up the blood soiling my own pallid skin with as much eagerness as I had done. It had been intimate in a fashion, after all we vampires did not come together through sex the way the Kine did, no feeding was our only real passion, our truest desire.

"We're here Malk, are you deaf?" Kent's rude voice drew at least half of my minds back to what some called reality but I was certain was maybe just a dream or a crazy game, who could say?

The taxi had stopped and I was beneath Hollywood's neon lights once more. I jumped out of the taxi hastily with a cry of delight. Kent regarded me coldly before muttering something to the driver and shutting the door. I grabbed the Toreador in a tight hug. "We're here," I squealed with delight. "Now to the Baron, you must make him take me back."

"And if I don't?" he queried testily as he tried to shrug me off and failed.

"Then I'm your problem for all eternity," I told him as I grinned up with him.

"Good threat Malk, off we go to Isaac's then. Try to be quiet though, best to let me do the talking if you really want him to be conned into taking you back."

"Conned?" I frowned as I released him at last. "He should want to take me back; you're just going to remind him why is all!"

He shrugged and carefully fixed his designer, black, leather jacket back into place. "Tomato, tomatoe," he murmured before striding on ahead of me.

I immediately linked arms with him lest he lose me on the busy streets and started skipping. I marvelled at the billboards, the flyers and posters littering the roads, the skimpy dressed prostitutes, the hopeful actors and actresses and the usual drunk college students as we walked up the cracked pavement, ah how I had missed it all. Several women who passed us by gave Kent eager looks of lust that quickly turned to giggles when I waved at them. After this had happened six times Kent gave a loud groan and halted. "Malk let go of me," he ordered, "you are really cramping my style."

"Cramping, how? I'm not sitting on it, am I standing on it?" I looked down at the ground curiously and lifted each of my feet but there was nothing there.

"Never mind just stop skipping and waving at least," he muttered.

"But people wave here," I protested, "well some do, they ones who are allergic to moonlight."

"Allergic to moonlight? What the Hell are you on?"

"They wear moonglasses," I said proudly, "that's what you call them at night, right?"

"The sooner Isaac stakes you the better," he grumbled as he pulled me on.

We reached the Cavoletti Cafe and there a vaguely familiar sight was. Dear old Samantha, only she wasn't quite how I remembered her, but then I had so many different memories... She was hunched against the short, brick walls not quite under the maroon canopy. I broke from Kent and wandered over to her, giving her a playful nudge with my shoe.

She looked up at me, pale and ghastly, her golden skin faded to a dull, yellow tinged hue, her amber eyes were dull and sunken and her brown curls were a tangle. I had thought Samantha was usually well-kept, and nicely groomed, the only way to fit in with Hollywood really. She wore a high necked, black jumper and some worn, black trousers that were stained and ripped at the bottom; her feet were bare and black with dirt. "Did you go crazy too Sam?" I queried curiously.

"Wha...what?" She stared up at me dopily before her eyes slowly started to focus. "You," she murmured quietly, "I know you don't I?" She shook her head and touched her head with her right hand. "No I don't."

"You do, you don't, I've missed this game," I said happily.

"She has definitely had one of our kind near here," Kent grumbled.

"What?" I glanced up at him curiously. "How do you know?"

"Oh come on look at her, smell her, I would bet money she's just another delirious ghoul."

"No she's not," I protested, "confused yes but no ghoul." That much I was certain about Samantha, she had no knowledge of our kind otherwise she would have figured out the mystery of me by now, well one of the mysteries.

"Ghoul?" She looked up at us weakly and gave a groan. "Who are you?" She was looking at Kent suspiciously.

"No one you need to know," he retorted moodily.

Samantha started to stand shakily, she moved slowly and with several grunts. I waited patiently until she was on her feet, leaning back against the wall for support. She was certainly weak as if she had been drained of something but was it blood or was she merely sick?

"Do you know her?" Kent asked scornfully in my ear. "Or can we hurry along here? I don't like lingering near strays."

I looked to Kent and grinned; he had visibly recoiled from Samantha and was eyeing the dirt on her dark clothes warily. "She's no stray, she has a home somewhere," I informed him brightly, "so did I once."

He frowned and shook his head at me. "Look just give her some money or something then and let's get going."

I giggled, it was always amusing to see a Toreador uncomfortable, and turned my stare back on Sam who was finally looking at me with some recognition. "I do know you, yes!" She bit her lip and a tremble escaped her as the whites on her eyes became more prominent. "He wanted me to forget you," she reached up one hand to her tangled hair and clutched it tightly, "to leave you alone. He would have..." She let out a frightened gasp. "He was going to kill me I think but someone saw, too crowded, too many people." She shook her head as tears came to her eyes. "Oh I don't know." She looked to me in horror as if begging me to somehow end her trauma.

"Who was he?" I asked the obvious question calmly.

She shook her head again as confusion took over the fear in her brown eyes. "I don't know," she mumbled, "I don't know much, I feel so tired."

"Seems like someone has either being using Dominate or some form of Dementation on this one," Kent said in a low voice that Sam could not hear.

"Wasn't me," I said swiftly. I always got blamed for everything suspicious- missing spoons, dead policemen, graffiti in The Last Round, tourists babbling about griffins, arson near the Museum of Natural History, no one ever believed that it was the elves and fairies at work, well them and the fire breathing sheep.

"Indeed," Kent grumbled, "well you won't be getting much out of her at any rate so just leave her in peace."

"Alright, alright, grumpy," I scorned back before digging into my pockets for money. I found a light up spinning top, a wooden soldier, a crumpled up leaflet for Blues Night at the Asp Hole, I had painted the tables and chairs bright blue for that evening without a word of thanks from spoilt Ash, a Pokémon card and lockpicks before I finally found some balled up notes. I put the other things back, smoothed out the notes and then handed them over to Samantha. "Go to the Red Spot and get some food," I suggested, "no Twinkies though, unicorns are addicted to them and they will skewer you with their horns to get them." I patted the money down into her palm and clenched her fingers over it. "We'll talk later."

I released Samantha's hand and turned from her vacant expression back to Kent. I then linked arms with him and smiled up at him. "Let's follow the dirt brick road to the Baron's then," I said enthusiastically.

"You must be my penance for something," Kent muttered as a cluster of sparkle wearing and shiny clothed females giggled at us.

I could see the jewellers lingering ahead, we were close now, soon the movie master and I would be reunited in a cliché embrace, he would forgive me and I could go back to slumbering with him and my voices.

"Now remember, if it's not too hard," Kent sneered sarcastically, "just keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking. I don't know if the only reason Isaac is mad with you is because you banged his ghoul or not, I'm trusting you on that, which is bloody difficult. If it turns out it's because you are a traitorous Cammy bitch then I'm only going to be too happy to hold you down while he stakes you."

"I'm not," I huffed, "I like the jester prince but I'm not a traitor." So I had exaggerated the truth a few times about the number man and the baron's special friendship but it was no lie, the alliance was there and obvious, I hadn't revealed any big secret to Seb and as for the missing Ventrue, well I had only offered speculation.

"Liking him is bad enough," Kent grumbled as he pulled me down the alleyway beside Isaac's shop. We both halted at the sight of a tall figure stepping out of the building and closing the door behind him. He immediately looked our way with keen, green eyes.

"Alex!" I exclaimed cheerfully as I released Kent and flung myself at the redheaded Toreador.

Alex caught me with surprise and embraced me lightly. "You're back then," he remarked calmly, "I thought you would be gone longer."

"Downtown is so boring," I moaned, "no one wants to play there, everyone is too paranoid about disease." I pulled back slightly to grin up at him. "Did you miss me?"

Alex's eyes were on Kent rather than me as he studied him curiously. "Isaac has been depressed without you," he admitted softly as he kept his stare on Kent, "and things have gotten dull without you around."

"Isaac is depressed," I commented with a slight tinge of what might have been guilt, "does he forgive me then? I mean really I didn't do anything wrong anyway, he was probably just grumpy because the imps keep poking him in his sleep."

"Uh huh." Alex was still distracted by Kent.

I pulled back at him and gestured to Kent carelessly with one hand. "That is the grand Kent Alan Ryan, another artsy loving emo, he's here to speak with Isaac although he's just telling him stuff he heard from me that I could tell him, I think. Or did he have his own news? Maybe we were just taxi buddies." I smiled at Kent. "Alex will tell Isaac I'm sorry, you don't have to."

"He knows who I am," Kent said stiffly and I noticed that he was looking at Alex with the closest thing a Toreador could manage to a feral gaze. "I didn't think you were in Hollywood Alexander, how long have you been around?"

Alexander? I gasped in mock alarm and looked to Alex with renewed respect. "All hail the conqueror!" I exclaimed dramatically.

He did not even glance my way. "Long enough," he said dryly, "months, a year maybe, I come and go as it suits me. Hollywood has such a wonderful display of life and there are so many budding writers and producers and directors, art is everywhere here, so much passion and devotion."

"And so much despair and letdowns," Kent added, "the tragedies of life and fiction come together in one pulsing hub. That always was your special interest, wasn't it? The great tragedies, you preferred to see how grief and horror changed people, how they coped with it."

"Even in sorrow life is beautiful," Alex retorted in his typical Toreador manner. "Beauty is everywhere Kent don't limit yourself to the shallow images of joy and rainbows, look for something deeper, look for art created by pain and suffering, entire lives poured into finishing paintings and buildings, money squandered, families forgotten all so that with one piece of creation someone might find a kind of immortality that is lost to us."

"Indeed."

"Okay," I commented as I looked from one to the other in puzzlement, "I don't really understand this art rambling, I mean finger painting is great and all, and so is chalk, which I tried to explain to his highness but he refused to see my scribbles on his wallpaper as art, anyway, I want to see Isaac. So who's going to help me explain that I'm sorry?"

"I will," Kent retorted hastily, "if only because I said I would and I have business with Isaac anyway."

"Well I'll come too," Alex retorted with a thin smile, "just in case you need extra support in persuading Isaac with anything." He turned and led the way in before Kent or I could say anymore.

I followed, humming as I did, Isaac was depressed without me, I couldn't have received better news! Well actually the dwarves could have returned my cowboy hat and I could have finally found where the phoenix's golden egg was but this news was in the top five. Even my other personalities were in a good mood, we were home, we could play now and...feed. A growl whirled around inside my stomach, low and soft for now but it would grow soon, turning into a ferocious, demanding howl. It had been a few hours now, I had drank briefly from a Downtown hooker before catching our taxi but her tainted blood was now but a bitter memory. I would need to drink soon or risk frenzying from thirst. In my excitement and eagerness I had somehow managed to forget my need for survival, how silly of me.

Isaac stood in his office, poised tall with his hands behind his back, staring at the two screens on his desk with disinterest. He looked over at Alex with mildly curious amber eyes that turned to surprise when I appeared from behind. "Surprise!" I couldn't resist.

Isaac's dazzling golden stare flickered from me to Alex to Kent and then back to me. "Good evening," he said stiffly, "has the baby-faced two-bit Prince sent you back on business?"

I was taken aback by this blunt accusation and raised a hand to my breast in sincere hurt.

"In a way," Kent spoke up before I could say anything, "which is why I am here also but that's not her real goal. The mad brat really missed you or so she claims, says she's bored and depressed without you, begged me to bring her with me back here."

I was not sure if I liked Kent's aloof and somewhat sardonic tone or not but I did appreciate his words, nice to have someone defending me, well someone that Isaac could hear, he seemed immune to the joyous cheers and vehement protests of the dust bunnies and the glowing bat eared dogs that had cheese breath.

"You're here on Prince business?" Alex queried coolly with a raised eyebrow as he stared calmly at Kent.

Kent stepped from around me and scowled. "I don't work for that stuck up asshole if that's what you are implying," he snarled, "I am an Anarch and true to the cause."

"Well what's the business then?" Isaac queried warily as he deliberately looked at Kent instead of me.

Kent spared me a glance with his steely eyes. "Missing Venture, two of them, in Hollywood," he explained bluntly.

"A male and female," I chirped up, determined to both be useful and draw Isaac's attention to me, "both blonde, he with the green eyes of a pine tree, she with grey iron, Sebby sent them here to form an alliance with the former star, the sewer lord but they disappeared."

"How long ago?" Isaac queried sharply though he stubbornly refrained from looking at me.

I shrugged. "Months maybe, I forgot, I got caught up in the lights and the music and tormenting Ash, it was all too much fun."

"It's why the smug princeling sent her here," Kent explained, "and why he's sent her again or so he thinks." He gave me a suspicious stare. "She claims it's all a cover, that she's leading him on but who knows? Maybe she is his willing whore."

A blur. I blinked hard and wondered what I had missed. Kent was lying on the floor stunned and angry with a thin trickle of crimson liquid flowing down from his lip. Beautiful, beautiful crimson, my throat felt so rough and dry, like sandpaper, my stomach was hollow and empty, a cave lonely for substance. Kindred blood, tempting but forbidden and not the fix I wanted anyway. Kent touched one black gloved finger to his lip and wiped away the blood hastily as he glared up at Isaac.

Isaac stood exactly where he had with his hands behind his back still, and his expression void of emotion. Alex was staring at him too with a mixture of awe and surprise. Had Isaac moved? Had he hurt Kent? How had I not seen that? I looked around them suspiciously certain that a mage was at work and had deceived me, blinded me with magic so that I had missed the show.

"I don't know her," Kent snarled angrily, "and she's a Malk, she could be working for anyone and not even know herself, probably has one personality serving him and the other serving you, how the Hell would you know? I believe that she believes otherwise but what the Hell is that worth? She wouldn't even remember if one of her other crazy sides was up to no good!"

Hmm now there was a thought and what a good excuse for future crimes- pardon me but it's my second personality you're looking for, my first and third are innocent of this crime. Still, I did not think it was the case, I was certain that I really was just bluffing Sebastian to an extent rather than secretly siding with him in a manner so subtle I did not even know it myself. No I liked Sebastian well enough but I was not willing to turn on Isaac for him.

"So these missing Ventrue were here to treat with Gary then," Alex mused, "but they disappeared. Funny but I don't recall any Ventrue and no one has ever mentioned any stopping through, how strange."

"Well maybe someone didn't want to mention it," Kent muttered darkly as he stood up at last and composed himself.

"Or maybe it's not just Kine who are dropping off the map," I suggested. At last all eyes on me, I was finally the star in a Hollywood production! "Just a thought," I murmured sheepishly. "I mean some of the disappearances are strange, you know that from that girl who didn't quite vanish Copperfield style, torture, maiming." Maiming, the rose! Thirst, it crippled me then, causing me to double over and let out a hungry snarl, the sight of Kent's blood had apparently quickened up my need for nutrition.

"Still not feeding properly," Isaac scorned me.

"I've been trying," I protested.

"How did you get away with that in Downtown?" Alex taunted with a teasing smile. "I'm sure the Prince wasn't happy with your frenzying."

I was tempted to confess then that the Prince was well aware of my feeding habits having experienced them up close and personal but I did not think that titbit would help with winning back Isaac. "I didn't frenzy," I grumbled.

"I'll take you to feed," Alex offered, "and make sure you don't cause anymore public spectacles."

"No," Isaac said sternly.

I looked at him eagerly, daring to hope.

"I will take her, I could do with some blood."

I let out a shrill of happiness and flung myself at him groping him hard and gripping his neck close as I pulled myself up to kiss him. He stiffened as expected but instead of shoving me off he merely fumbled to support me before gently tugging me down. "That is enough Ariadne," he said in his firm way. I knew he was secretly happy though, he was just toning it down for company. "We will go and find your supper."

I nodded eagerly, slipping my hand into his larger one and letting him lead the way out to the noisy, welcoming streets of Hollywood. Being a man of style and grace it was no surprise that he took us to the restaurant and immediately set about chatting up two youthful, slender women out in their finest silk dresses to dine with friends. Samantha was gone, hopefully in the Red Spot or a hotel and not a gutter somewhere. I felt a pang of something for leaving her but I did not know what that pang was- curiosity, guilt, reluctance, anger? Maybe even mild worry? Her probing into my existence could lead to a Masquerade violation after all and I was not so naive as to think that the Camarilla's claws could not stretch into Anarch territory.

I let Isaac do the talking, my babbling usually scared people away unless I put some effort into my Seduction skills. Isaac was naturally charming; it was easier to let him do the brunt of the work. It did not take long before he had persuaded them to tag along with us, explaining that we were members of a film production and that if they wanted they could come and see the filming first hand, maybe even be some lovely extras. My police costume only helped enforce the ruse as I nodded when Isaac told them I was a cast member.

Isaac led us down the streets, weaving smoothly past groups of students, fallen actors, desperate writers, drunken revellers, work alcoholics and the usual riffraff. After several twists and turns we were finally alone down a foreboding alleyway where no sane person would come looking. Isaac and I moved simultaneously, mesmerising them into silence with cold stares before sinking our fangs into their tender necks. I sprung onto my victim, wrapping my legs around her and forcing her to support my weight as I gripped her shoulders hard with my nails. She let out a smothered yelp before going silent as my fangs broke her skin.

Sarah again, gods wouldn't that drip go away? The named Moon Boy jeering at Samantha, laughing hysterically at her, pointing with the mockery of a drunken fool. Samantha scowling, snapping something rude at him, gripping my hand and pulling me off. I glanced back briefly at him, he seemed stranger than strange could be; there was something off about him, something Sarah had foolishly missed.

Deep into the throng of people, dancing, drinking, mingling, the music pounding through my ears, not loud enough to drown out those pesky voices though. They whispered and warned, spoke of danger and death, Sarah shook them off, ignoring them, always ignoring them insisting to herself that they would go away. Poor, naive, stupid Sarah.

A man, a tall man in her vision, gripping her hands with two ice cold ones, pulling her into a dance, forcing her, smothering down on her with his heavy presence. She could not resist, could not tear herself from his gaze or his grip, she wanted to though. She was terrified; she almost wanted to wet herself with sheer fright, this man, where had he come from? He reeked of death. I tried to force Sarah to snap out of the trance and look at him properly, I tried to see him, to take him in but it was a memory frustratingly locked to me. Moon Boy's laughter filled my head.

Isaac's gentle hands pulled me back, easing me from my trembling victim before I went too far. I looked at him, frightened for a moment, scared shitless by some stupid memory or was it just a dream, a nightmare my minds conjured and tried to claim was a memory? His amber eyes softened and he pulled me into him.

I tentatively stretched out my tongue to lick the blood spatters on his neck and weirdly he allowed me though I felt him tense up and his grip tighten as he considered pushing me back. He was too uptight to allow or enjoy anything too sexual, ironic really given how loose and racy Hollywood had become. I wondered how he even put up being near V.V, surely her sexuality had him stammering and shaking.

"Don't send me away again," I pleaded, "I won't go near your ghoul, I won't even egg Ash's club if that's what you want," Zeus knows I was praying he didn't ask that, "whatever you say, I'll be good, I'll be a bloodsucking angel, just keep me with you." I could not say why but for some reason Isaac made me calmer, without him I fretted that Sarah would devour and destroy me, trapping me in her memories forever, that I would force myself to walk in the sun out of misery and boredom, that LaCroix would succeed in brainwashing me and I would die a minion of his. I was so indecisive, too many minds competing, too many voices to listen to, it confused me but with Isaac the voices were quieter, less demanding and I knew to side with him without doubt, to always be in his bed when the sun came up instead of wandering from building to building taking sanctuary where I found it.

"You can visit Romero as you please," Isaac murmured in my ear, he spoke reluctantly, "I know you still have baser needs and you lack the emotion we Toreadors are cursed with. I was silly to think otherwise, you cannot help what you are and I will not force you to be otherwise. You are flawed but still beautiful, and I admire that, a handful yes but one I chose to take on. Just..." He paused for a moment obviously considering his words. "I am old-fashioned but I am proud of that, just wash his scent off you before you come to me and don't speak of it. I will accept that."

I nuzzled him hard then, I wished I could say that I would never go near Romero again despite having permission but I knew the freedom to do it would just encourage me, the grave guard was fun and interesting and he was deprived, I did still feel pity for him. "There was a rose," I remembered David Hatter's words, "on the girl's waist, the hat man told me." I felt my mind blurring at the edges and my vision tinged in smoke as I thought of the Hatter's words. A single thorn on a rose... "Toreador, it was a Toreador." Our nameless, faceless killer had a clan then.