Back to The Asylum, this time I was escorted arm in arm with Kent whilst a reluctant Romero agreed to linger outside in case I escaped. I considered crying out to the drunks we passed but I doubted they would take me seriously and Kent had promised to rip out my throat if I tried. The place was packed when we entered, but then it was a Friday night and there was nowhere else in Santa Monica. Alright there were other bars and one other club I was aware of but The Asylum had always been the place.
Heavy rock music pounded from the worn, black speakers, people fought for the large, tattooed, freakish looking barman's attention and the scantily dressed barmaids who wore low cut, tight, black, belly tops, studded chokers and short miniskirts that were black, red, chequered or tartan. I recalled being envious of these barmaids once, thinking that if I had their enviable figures and confidence I might be able to impress him. Him, who was he again? His name was just out of reach, a whisper too faint to hear over the others.
I shuddered, perfumes, aftershaves, alcohol and stale vomit stank the air, almost nauseating me, I wondered if everyone had just gone to extra effort because it was a Friday but I was suspecting it was something more than that. Kent pulled me into the crowds and made an effort to bury us amongst them. Judging from his smile and leering grey gaze at several scantily clad patrons who smiled back at him I was getting the impression that the pretty poet wanted me gone.
"Why don't you just let me loose and have some fun?" I suggested.
I wasn't quite sure how he managed to hear me over the music but he did and rewarded me with a wilting stare.
"You have no loyalty to me rebel," I said icily, "so let me go. Just forget you ever met us."
"Oh that I could," he lamented with a scowl, "but do you really think Isaac would forgive me for that? No," he chose to answer himself. Hmm was I perhaps not the only one who spoke to themselves? "He likes you, who knows why, Hell he loves you, so if I let anything happen to you I can safely assume with regards to the Baron, my ass is toast."
Loves? Someone I had never heard off loved me? Oh don't lie Sarah, not to yourself, can't keep that deception up for long. Just amnesia, a fun game of memory loss. I shook my head angrily, trying to silence the voices once more. "Well that's nice," I muttered dryly, "but you could lie, tell him you lost me, that someone else took me, I don't know but don't subject yourself to this." I tried my best to sound persuasive and gestured to a group of women somewhere in their twenties with skinny bodies, tanned, supple flesh, slender throats, ah pulsing throats... "You could have any one of them tonight," I murmured softly. Anyone would do, just one, one little bite. "You could be rid of me for good, just let me go and we will pretend it never happened. Go on, look they're smiling at you, do you really want to give up a chance with them to mind me? I mean, what am I to you anyway? Is this Isaac guy so important? Is he worth all this hassle? Will he really never get over it? Are you going to get over it if you miss out on a night with them to try and what...restore my memory? What if that doesn't even happen and you've wasted your chance for nothing?"
I could tell that my words were having their desired effect, for one thing Kent had yet to interrupt me and for another thing, he had not stopped staring at the silvery blonde, blue eyed beauty who was giving him a shy, hopeful smile. "The timid looking ones are usually best in bed," I lied, "and nicest to taste. They have the sweetest blood." Yes, it was so sugary when it came out with each panicked heartbeat. Not quite as good as unicorn's blood drizzled on stuffed peppers might be but close.
Kent's hand slackened and I took the opportunity to slip free from him. I pushed myself into the crowds, determined to get lost on them. As I wandered through numerous people shouting at one another, giggling, singing and drinking, I realised I did not know where to go. Romero was at the front doors with a shotgun barely obscured beneath his coat and whilst I did not think he would shoot someone in such a crowded area I was not certain of it.
In my confusion and my efforts to avoid elbows, glasses and feet I ended up bumping into someone. Strong hands reached out to steady me as I turned my head up to apologise. I felt myself go still as I was assailed with images, memories. A night here in The Asylum, the last time I had seen him, I had dressed up for him but he had gone with her. Jeanette! The name hissed through me in a jealous, resentful voice, she had taken him, she had taken other things too, memories thought to be hidden away in a shoebox under my bed, she had taken them, confused me, yes I was so confused...
"Sarah?" His voice drew me back to reality, or a shadow of it, and I found myself staring bashfully at his curious, frosty blue eyes. "I thought you were missing," he remarked with a degree of suspicion in his voice, and, I hoped, relief.
"I was," I admitted quietly.
He looked about him and then said, "come with me where it's quieter, I can't hear you." I let him pull me across the dance floor and up the metal stairs to a section of black chairs and tables, most of them occupied. He guided me to two seats at a round table in the corner where it was indeed quieter and sat down. I sat down opposite him, unable to tear my gaze from him. This was Chase, the man who I had fantasised about for years, my college crush he was a fellow art student, creative in a mad manner, producing paintings of Gothic horror. Yes, such a stereotype but how I had adored it. He still had the Mohawk and the wonderful collar with its sharp spikes, he was still wonderful Chase. "Where have you been?" he demanded.
With a zombie hunter and a guy who thought he was a vampire? Hmm maybe best keep that quiet, send a postcard later revealing that information. "Aaround," I stammered lamely.
He gave me a warm smile that sent a tingle through me. Ah we liked the tingles, how they tickled, haven't felt it in a while, only with the Baron and the grave guard. The grave guard? Hmm I didn't want to think who that might be. "I missed you," Chase confessed, "more than I thought I could, it's good to see you again." Ah he was better with words than the poet, what a delight!
"It's good to see you too," I retorted sincerely. The one that got away and into the clutches of an overaged school girl with raccoon eyes and huge breasts. Ah well, couldn't blame him, hard to resist the costume and the breasts, not many men who could.
He glanced about the room again, wincing slightly as the song changed to a more pounding, rockier one before returning his gaze to me. "Look, I know it's a little out of the blue but do you want to head somewhere quieter to talk? Maybe the diner? I mean I know it's sudden but ever since you left, well I thought about you a lot and the things I would say to you if you came back and then days turned into weeks and then months and I thought maybe the chance was gone and you wouldn't come back. So I guess, well you're here now and I can't wait any longer, maybe I'm impatient to tell you things because I've built it up for so long or maybe I'm afraid you'll slip away again before I can talk to you, I don't know, but are you free? Can we get a coffee?"
Yuck, caffeine's no good to us anymore; keep us up to fry in the sun, no something warmer, something redder. I made an effort to suppress these thoughts and the longing to press my lips close to the pulse on his neck and nodded eagerly. "Yes, sure," I said quickly. I then paused remembering the man with the shotgun, hard to forget that one. "Er...but...well this is going to sound weird but I'm being followed," I confessed. I loathed having to tell Chase this, fearful that it would scare him off but I had to, "there's a guy and he's dangerous and he's waiting for me outside."
Chase looked serious and gave a solemn nod at my words. "We'll slip out with a crowd," he said, "and lose the bastard. You can wear my coat, maybe that will help." He reached out across the table and gripped one of my hands, sending another tingle through me. "Don't worry though; if he comes near us I'll protect you." And get your guts splattered all over the ground, how wonderful. With that grim thought I contemplated rearranging our meeting but who knew if that would happen? It had been so long and I had missed an opportunity with him once already, I could not do it again. Besides I needed to get out of here before the psycho Kent decided he had made a mistake in letting me go and if I slipped out arm in arm with someone then maybe he wouldn't notice, and Romero might not either.
"Alright let's go," I said.
We stood up and Chase swiftly took off his leather jacket and bundled it around me. I wondered how he was able to deal with wearing such a heavy thing in the club but then considered that I did not feel warm so maybe he didn't either. I hugged it close, savouring the scent of him and dead cows, before allowing him to link hands with me and pull me close. He led the way down the stairs and through the crowds to the doors. We stopped there and waited for a young group of guys and girls barely out of school to leave and slipped out with them.
I fretted that Kent or Romero would stop us but when we left the grounds without incident I relaxed a little. Chase gave me a confident smile before pulling me down an alleyway.
"Help me," a plea called out from ahead causing us both to halt.
Phil. Why was I hearing Phil's voice? There was a form up ahead in the alleyway beneath a dim, flickering light. I focused in on it and saw him, not so handsome anymore he bore a large, swollen, black eye, a bloodied nose, an inflamed lip and other injuries unseen save for a few telltale crimson stains on his clothes. Oh the smell made me shiver, I needed a taste, it was just too tempting.
"Help me," he begged again.
Chase released my hand and ran over to the man. "Shit what happened to you?" he queried in shock.
"I was attacked," Phil rasped. "I think it was some punk kids, I don't know, please help."
"Look the clinic is nearby," Chase said calmly as he reached out two hands to steady the blonde, "we'll take you there." He looked over at me for help. "Sarah quick, help me with this guy."
I owed Phil I supposed but I was afraid to approach him and let him see me, and yet how could I leave him like this? How could I leave Chase like this? So with reluctance I hurried over, avoiding eye contact with the man and trying to keep my face hidden behind my hair. I gripped one arm and Chase the other and between us we helped him limp in the direction of the clinic.
By the time we reached the clinic I could feel my tongue salivating, my head screamed danger at me, I supposed because biting someone in public would be a very foolish thing, especially someone who was injured. His blood had leaked onto me though, it was just too tempting and when I was certain I wasn't being watched I had taken two licks and then almost vomited with disgust. How could I do this? Why did I like the taste?
When we entered the receptionist with the brunette bob looked at us in repulsion. "Phil!" she shrieked in horror. "What happened? Who are you people? What's happened to him?" she babbled.
"Just let us take him to a doctor," Chase growled out sternly.
"But..." She made to protest but we ignored her and the other gasping, wide eyed people and hurried on.
Chase led the way, barging into a surgery room where a dark skinned doctor with dreadlocks stood looking at a chart with a frown. "Quick," Chase snapped at him before we deposited Phil on the surgery bed. "He needs help and fast."
"It was here," Phil stammered as his golden eyes rolled back in his head, "it was-"
"Don't talk," Chase cut him off swiftly, "save your strength." He looked to the puzzled doctor sternly. "Come on, help him!" he ordered. "Call a nurse, do something!"
"Alright," the doctor grumbled at last as he composed himself, "but you need to get out of here, clear the room!"
We backed out hastily, Chase leading the way up the corridor to avoid two nurses who had come running, summoned by the speaker. Chase stopped, leaned against the wall, swept a hand through his Mohawk and sighed before looking at me. "Not quite the date I envisioned," he joked.
Date, ah the word sent a thrill through me, one which even Phil's predicament could not ruin. Be wary, watch for the cracks, mustn't step out of line and fall down a hole. I shook off the voices, but I could not lose the thirst. This clinic reeked of blood, it drifted out of every room, wafted up and down from the floors above and below, seeping through the cracks and vents, it was just too much. I swayed slightly as a dizzy spell overcame me and felt Chase's hands reach out to me.
"Come on," he murmured, "there's a coffee machine downstairs, not quite the diner's quality but we can grab a cup while we wait to see if that guy's okay."
I nodded weakly against him, too afraid to open my mouth in case I could not resist a bite. I could hear the blood pounding through him, it was fresh and there was so much off it, it was almost impossible to resist. I felt him lead me down a corridor, through a door and down some steps.
"About time."
TRAITOR! The word screamed through me, a warning too late as always. Ah Sarah you know some Judases don't you? I looked to Chase in surprise, hoping for confusion in his eyes but there was only a cold satisfaction. His grasp on my wrist tightened and before I could resist, he stepped behind me and grasped my other wrist as well. "Here as requested," he said brightly.
"As who requested?" I demanded hoarsely. How had I been fooled again? Oh Sarah first a honey trap then a wounded lure, too easy, too easy!
"The queen bitch's twin," Vandal answered me with a sneer. "She's nicer with rewards and easier on the eye too."
I swallowed hard and sank my heels in; I would not go back to that torture!
"That asshole Phil nearly blew the plan," Chase complained, "started becoming delirious with pain and babbling. You beat him good but you should have knocked his jaw in or cut out his tongue."
"Maybe next time," Vandal murmured with a smirk, "Phil's useful yet, unless you want to volunteer to round up the blood bags then I can't replace him just yet."
"No," Chase said with revulsion, "Sarah is the only exception and that's just because Jeanette asked me."
"Oh well aren't you a good little Ghoul," Vandal jeered. Ghoul? She made him her slave, no chance for you then, the blood bond is strong, too strong. "Now bring her over."
I screamed and screamed and kicked and flailed. Vandal cursed and I felt his hands at my ankles as he tried to hoist me up. I kicked his chest hard but it did not slacken his grip. They were beating me. You're weak Sarah, let us back, we're strong, we're not human, you're not human, stop with the games now. No, no, no! Chase was normal, I was normal, two college students at a club, that's all it had been. No vampires, no Ghouls, no- DENIAL! NO DENIAL! Alex, Xander, Alexander, Moon Boy, a beach, Samantha, a sandy embrace, Chase, a violent one, and then a final one in vain. No, no, no!
They were taking me back! Through the door, back to the flower, back to the blood raping, back to bondage, back to imprisonment!
BANG! I felt something damp soak my scalp before Chase's arms immediately lost their grip and my head smacked off the floor.
"Aw fuck," Vandal cursed. He dropped me and when my eyes rolled up to him I saw him standing with his hands in the air. It might have been a comical sight if I was not so dazed and scared. "Don't shoot," he let out a nervous laugh, "she'll kill you if you do. You don't want to piss off the Baron do you?"
"Maybe not," I heard Romero's calm, sardonic, and very much welcome voice, "I've already pissed off one Baron, met the quota I think. Still, maybe you want to back off a little more."
Vandal obediently stepped back. I tried to push myself up but the dizziness was getting stronger and I could not focus. My vision flickered to red and I let out a snarl. I rolled over and sat up to face the man groaning behind me. Chase was slumped against the wall, clutching his right arm and groaning. His arm was drenched with blood, it was a deep wound but he would live if it was treated. If... Time to cull the traitors, let's set an example; let's end the thirst, two birds, one stone.
Chase noticed the look I was giving him too late. "Oh no," he stammered, "shit she's going to bite me!" He looked to Vandal for help first and then to Romero. "Don't let her! You'll have a corpse to explain! Jeanette will have your head!"
"She's frenzying," Romero remarked calmly, "and if it's down to me or you, well I don't mind losing you."
I sprang for him. He screamed only a little before I tore out his throat and gorged on the blood that came gushing forth. Jeanette, the puppet master, used Chase to exploit me, to trick me and poor Phil, a punished pawn. Why though? What had I done to deserve such hate? When does madness need an excuse? It was all a game to her. The memories came as I continued to drink, three vampire attacks in one evening, the execution of Moon Boy, my faux sire, and my forced servitude to Prince Sebastian. I had escaped his shackles in the starry town, submitting myself to the Baron's affections for a while. I had had to return to the Prince, business with Anarchs and the Camarilla, a dangerous game, I tiptoed on a rope between them, oh I liked them both in truth, but Isaac had my love. Nines called me traitor, rich irony given I was the one constantly betrayed. Now here I was, here for the one name relic hunter.
Chase, my crush, polluted and twisted by a mad vampire bitch, and now dead and cold like poor Samantha. Why was it Kine I knew? Was I killing off my life, Sarah's life? I recoiled from his body and threw up. Then the sobs came, I wasn't Sarah, yet I was, Kent had spoken the truth, this was no nightmare but a reality, I was the undead, cursed physically and mentally. I was Ariadne.
"We should go." Romero, he had followed me here, he had rescued me when I should have done it myself. Oh but I had been forced into pretending I was human, the daughter of Janus had committed this wicked deed. A cruel game but amusing I supposed, nice to see how dull Sarah had lived, not so dull after all. I let out another sob, poor Chase, poor Phil, all of us cursed, all of us doomed. I heard Romero crouch down and sensed his wary, olive gaze. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"I knew him," I confessed, "Sarah knew him, Sarah liked him, thought it was love, now he's dead, just meat and flesh, all a waste, another corpse like Samantha."
"You remember then," he murmured approvingly.
I nodded. "Too many things now," I said mournfully, "there's not enough room in my head. Sarah's gotten bigger, greedy bitch wants more space in my mind."
"Right."
"And now Chase is in me too," I felt another mouthful of vomit and swallowed it, "with Samantha, it's getting crowded. Just two voices might be nice, maybe three," I clutched my skull with both bloodied hands and winced, "it's loud and it hurts." I felt the tears trickle down my cheeks. "Why must I play executioner to lost friends?"
I felt his hand reach out tentatively to my shoulder and I burrowed against him seeking a comfort I had been deprived off. "Er..." He was hesitant and tense with nerves but then at last he put his arms around me, continuing to clutch his shotgun in his right hand. Vandal was gone now though, scurried off at Chase's death. "You can't help your nature," Romero murmured, "and that guy, he knew what you were and he still thought to screw you over, he was asking for it."
I could believe that, Chase had betrayed me, but why? Was it because he was cruel now or because she had bid him to do it? He had been Jeanette's ghoul, poisoned by her blood and yet... Romero was a ghoul but his devotion to Isaac was not without limitation. He had taken me in when I had killed Samantha despite fearing the Baron's disapproval. I nuzzled against him, exhausted with my mental debates and denials. I did not want to listen to the voices just yet, I did not want to think of my duties and games, I just wanted peace.
"Come on," Romero said, "we can't stay here." He urged me upright and led the way out. We sneaked out through the side door undetected, back to a cool evening in a deserted alleyway. That was until a frazzled Kent appeared in a blur.
"What happened?" he demanded as he looked at my bloodstains scornfully. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"How did you lose her?" Romero queried calmly.
I glowered back at Kent, I was a burden to him, he had betrayed me, then he had stayed with me only to keep Isaac's approval and then he had left me all too easily. I had been fragile, I could have been broken or drained and he had let me go to wander to my potential end. Ah I had been a burden though, a screaming, delirious, forgetful one. A violent one too as I remembered, his temporary curse because the Baron willed it, because the number man willed it. Had to find out the Prince's secrets.
"I don't want to play with you anymore Kent, and I know you don't want me to either. Tell your number lord that the jester prince wants some beach doughnuts."
"What? Are you back Malk? About fucking time!"
I flipped him off and sidestepped him, naturally he blocked me. "Go back to town," I told him, "I don't need false friends."
"What are you talking about?" he demanded in annoyance.
"You left me for some pretty baubles, guess they turned you down though, did your craft fail you word master?"
Kent frowned. "You told me to leave you!" he protested. "That's beside the point though, I realised it was just to get rid of me and I came looking for you."
"You're a bit slow," Romero commented earning a glower from the vampire.
"You got rid of me," I said dryly, "and you would have done it sooner but then you wouldn't know about La Croix's doughnut fetish. The secret's out now though, he likes the jelly ones best, so run tell the Anarch clan."
Kent pointed at me with a heated look. "I looked after you," he snarled, "when you thought you were a human, you would have fucking fried if it wasn't for me!"
"You did it for others; you call me the Prince's slave, whose slave are you Kent?" I queried with a smirk. "Who makes you stalker and traitor?"
"Fuck you," he snapped. "You told me to leave you so I did, you told me to have fun, and now that you've come to your senses, well half-senses in your case, you're giving me shit. I minded you, stopped you from sun bathing and committing some Masquerade violations, I protected you, mostly from yourself, but I still did it."
"You had some help," Romero chimed in with a hint of annoyance.
"You work for others, just like me," I mused happily, "you are untrustworthy like me, why three names we are but the other's reflection, save for the betraying, I've never done that, hmm guess I slipped up with the copying there."
Kent frowned and sighed. "I said I was sorry for betraying you," he grumbled.
"Ah a good trick," I praised, "a continuation of the betrayal concealed beneath an apology, I have been falling for tricks too easily here, must be the sea air corroding my senses. Chase could have learned from you." I froze up at my own words, Chase, so recently dead, it had been quick, a small comfort. He had gone like Sam, murdered by a friend. I shook my head as I felt the tears again, wretched Sarah, her presence made me weak. "No more Kent," I murmured, "I don't want your company." I turned from him and wandered off.
"I...well...shit..." Kent stammered.
"It's going to be sunrise soon," Romero muttered as he started to walk beside me.
I nodded; I could feel a familiar weariness overcoming me. I needed rest, I needed oblivion, but I did not want to suffer it alone. I turned to the grave guardian and queried, almost shyly, "will you stay with me?"
He nodded without hesitation. "That's what I'm here for."
"Isaac really is okay with it," I said softly, repeating his words from last night. "He is fond of me; he likes my personality, considers it a beautiful tragedy and I'm fond of him and the funny way he talks," I mused, "and makes the voices go quieter. He makes me feel and think strange things that no one else can and I think I do the same for him. You though, it's different with you," I looked at him but he avoided my gaze, "I have fun with you too crypt keeper, a different kind of fun and you, nothing bothers you, you just accept...me."
He nodded. "Well I've met worse than you," he joked nervously.
"Isaac questions, it's his nature, and he listens to others, he doesn't want to anger V.V and Ash, they mean too much to him," I murmured. "Without Alex he would hear their complaints about me and think on them, even if Ash is just being dramatic, I mean I only set his car on fire once."
Romero snickered.
"You don't care though; even when the Baron gets angry you don't shut me out. He won't get angry now though because he gets it I think, better than I can, he's emotional, he understands things like this."
"So what exactly do you want?" Romero asked cautiously.
"You, and him."
"Separately, right?"
I nodded, laughing at his worried expression. We had reached my apartment now, the dump La Croix had gifted me so generously with. I led the way up and in through the door, Romero followed and shut it. I lay on the bed and curled up against myself. Words were enough, no action tonight, I was not yet myselves. I needed to grieve, I needed to rest and forget. Ah but forgetting had caused too many problems already. I just needed to accept.
An hour later Romero joined me quietly, putting his arm around me loosely and lying behind me. He said nothing and tried nothing. I wondered if he had noticed the tears, if they bothered him or if he simply needed to lie down, there was only one bed after all. I moved into him and he did not protest, then I waited for sleep to take me.