One week, one week since Chase had died and the madness of Sarah had lost control. One week of wandering through the streets of Santa Monica, never straying into any building except my own hovel, heading out only to feed from Kine before returning to try and entice Romero into a dance beneath the sheets. It was only on the fifth night that he had finally given up resisting, but only after I had wrestled the Baron's consent from him down the phone, albeit in an awkward, somewhat subtle manner. It had been a relief and a joy to hear the Baron's voice, though he claimed the joy was his, I wondered which of us felt it most. I had praised Romero to him, made murmurings of hunting a hunter of artefacts and promised to return. Kent I did not mention and when Isaac queried about him I was forced to hang up to chase away thieving fey, what a terrible coincidence.

Isaac had informed Romero that 'he did not wish to know of his deeds, that the affairs of Santa Monica stayed in Santa Monica, that he could do as he pleased without fear of reprimanding so long as he acted with discretion and that he kept me safe.' Romero had muttered some nervous retorts of consent and a string of promises before the conversation ended and he accepted that the Baron would not cut off something the grave guard, in his own words, rather admired.

So for two nights now we had made the soiled sheets of my cheap apartment even dirtier. It was as I awoke on the seventh night that I considered resuming my duties. It was a woeful thing to ponder but then the Prince would grow grouchy and there was a whiff of relics in the air, my dear treasure hunter was bound to be close.

I jumped with a squeal when a loud ringing called through the room. Romero grabbed his shotgun with a grunt of alarm before giving me a glower. "I thought we were being attacked," he grumbled.

I pointed accusingly at the bringing black beast. "I thought it dead but it must have been a slumber, now it's awake and angry!"

"Right, right, just answer it crazy cat," Romero dismissed me with a gesture to the phone.

I approached it tentatively and dared to grasp the receiver.

"Hello." A sharp, cold, feminine voice called out to me.

"Ah voice in my head!" I said appreciatively.

"Afraid not," came a snarl. "Got the right Kindred then, good, that saves some time."

Ah not my voice, what a shame, just the dark daughter of Janus. "What does the esteemed ruler of the Lady by the Sea want with little young me?" I queried curiously.

"Well to be frank if I could avoid needing you for anything I would but my sister has acquired a new pet and she's become so obsessed with him that she's neglecting business. Now normally I'm glad to see Jeanette distracted and out of the way but the club is a prime source for income and more importantly, I do suspect this pet of hers might be of some importance to the Hollywood Baron." She sighed. "At least that's what Jeanette's bragging, I've never heard of him. Nor do I care to learn anything more about him; personally I don't think much of Anarchs-"

"But you're a Baron," I commented in confusion.

She gave a cool, dismissive laugh. "Yes but then I saw sense and my fealty will soon be pledged to the Camarilla. However, despite my viewpoints I really have no wish to upset Isaac-"

"Because he's got a badass army," I commented brightly, "and the pretty Anarch has pretty friends."

"Yes," she said curtly, "well, if you could come get him, that would be great."

Hmm back into the lion's den? A poet was in the silken clutches of the white daughter then but he was a traitor. "What prize do I get for this?" I queried.

"Prize?" she retorted in indignation. "Isn't he your friend?"

"No, we parted ways, most tragic, he shall write poems of Sebastian's doughnut fetish now."

"What? Oh forget it, I just want rid of him, what do you want?"

"Well it shall be hard taking a toy from the spoiled princess, very hard and she had done some damage to me already, a grave risk." I nodded solemnly and grinned at Romero, thinking he might appreciate my choice of words but he merely looked curious. "Can you tell me of the relic hunter?"

"The relic hunter?" she echoed.

"Yes, yes!" I said eagerly. "Tell me where he might be spied and I shall come steal the poet pet for you!"

She gave a dramatic sigh, ah how Ventrue, to let one's annoyance be so heavily felt. "I would suggest either down at the beach, considering there has been mentioning of treasure thought to be buried there-"

"ARR pirate booty!"

"Or," she continued on loudly, "he will soon be at the Gallery Noir," her voice became smug, "because I am holding an exhibition there, one about our history, which should certainly interest him. Of course it's all quite subtle, lest you think the Kine will get suspicious."

"Him?" I chortled. "You know it's a him."

"Well," she repeated with a slight fluster to her voice, "there's only one relic hunter worth finding and that's Beckett, most Kindred know of him."

"I don't, now I feel left out," I pouted.

"Right, I've told you what you need to know, come get my sister's pet, you'll find them in her room on the top floor of The Asylum, that's where she keeps him."

"Alright but no mind games, let's play Twister, I like Twister!" The dial tone was my answer to that suggestion.

"So," Romero spoke in his deadpan voice, "what was that all about?"

I turned to him and smiled. "We must go to the Gothic dance floor and save dear Kent!"

"We're saving the vampire you called a traitor and whose company you said you didn't want anymore?" he queried dryly.

"Yes, 'twas in exchange for a favour, now I shall be able to find the knower of history and please the Prince, perhaps then he will tell me secrets for the Baron's ear."

"So you are working for the Prince for Isaac then," Romero murmured.

I leaned out and patted his dark head, earning a frown in retort. "Of course. Now, back to the witch's den, bring the boom stick, the mind messer might need slain!"

"Oh sure, because that won't bring trouble on us," Romero grumbled sardonically even as he strapped his shotgun against him and put on his trench coat to hide it. "And how exactly did the Toreador end up in this situation to begin with?"

I shrugged and smiled again. "Wants to prove loyalties, can't resist a legal schoolgirl, likes the way she makes tea, who knows. A sacrifice, devotion, poor poet has a dead heart."

Romero shook his head. "I will never get used to the way you talk. Let's just go if you're insisting on this. Me, I think it's stupid and dangerous, but then I do like dangerous," he said thoughtfully.

I grabbed the crypt keeper and pulled him out of the room, down this stairs and outside to a drizzly evening. I released him once we were outside and we walked side by side to The Asylum.

The club was busy as usual and I had to use some Hysteria to clear the crowds from the bar. When a young woman burst into laughter, doubling over and clutching her waist with both hands I could almost feel Romero's accusing gaze on me, ah it reminded me of my lovely stern Baron. I skipped up to the tattooed ogre and grinned.

"You," he grunted as he polished a glass with a filthy rag.

"Me!" I retorted happily with a smile. "I'm here to see the mischievous white daughter of Janus."

"Riight...why?" He paused to look at me with a cautious beady gaze.

I leaned across the bar, sticking out my chest as I did, it worked for other women so why not me? "I'm a new dancer and Jeanette wants me to model some thongs for her."

Suddenly he was cleaning super fast and there was a faint tinge of pink at his neck. "Lucky job for some," he grumbled as he attempted to compose himself. "Go to the left, back wall; I'll hit the button for you." He pressed a button under the bar.

"Many thanks. Oh and if you leave the glasses out at night with a jar of honey the elves will do the cleaning for you," I informed him merrily before turning and skipping towards the lift.

Romero followed closely and queried, "so that thong modelling, do you fancy maybe doing that later?"

I giggled as I reached the lift and marvelled as the button glowed when I pushed it. The doors opened with a ping and I jumped in. I was disappointed to see only two buttons, one for our current floor and one for the second, no secret floors alas, at least not with lift access. I wondered curiously if there were secret passages through the walls as I hit the button and began to hum along with the lift music.

"I still don't get why we're here," Romero murmured, "or why the Toreador is here."

"Oh the marvelling mind of a poet," I retorted as the lift stopped and the doors opened. There were red walls that looked like they badly needed a new coat of paint, wooden floor, an unused desk and a single door into the dragon's lair. "Have faith Sir Romero," I said enthusiastically, "and have the boom stick ready for the demon within."

"Uh huh, I'm sure using a shotgun on the head honcho's sister will be a great idea," he retorted sardonically.

I nodded before reaching for the handle and pushing it down slowly. I then opened the door into Jeanette's idea of a love dungeon. Against the far right wall was a king-sized, heart shaped, crimson bed with silk sheets and a Kent shackled to it with furry handcuffs and only a plump, crimson pillow to give him any modesty. Some odd music played out of the speakers and there before the bed was Jeanette with a black riding crop in one hand.

"So...is he in trouble or are we just interrupting?" Romero wondered in his deadpan manner.

Jeanette whirled round to glower at us and I glowered back. "Back again kitten," she addressed me with a smirk, "looking for some more memories?"

"No just a poet, some carrots, a can opener, a phoenix egg, and a new bat key ring will be fine thanks," I retorted merrily as I scanned the room, avoiding Kent. On the left side was Therese's domain, a computer on a desk with an antique wooden chair, a large, expensive Persian rug and some interesting paintings. The room seemed to be two perfect halves, met in the middle at the wall behind us with a large portrait of two identical, young, blonde, creepy eyed girls and an imposing grey haired man behind them.

"Why are you here?" Kent queried in surprise.

I looked back at him and felt my fangs poke out as a sudden flash of thirst raced through me. Dear Kent had some interesting marks on him, cuts, bites and bruises, all freshly made and rather deeply too. "You have some odd interests," I informed him curtly.

"I have odd interests?" he snapped back at me. "This coming from you."

"You're the one shackled to a maniac's bed," I retorted as I raised my hands to my hips and stuck my chin up in the air in a form of ignorance.

"Maniac?" Jeanette wailed. "Duckling that's harsh, all I did was play a little game."

There on the web, reaching out to me, kindred spirit, open the doors, let them in, we do so enjoy similar company. Yes, let her in, let the pain go away, let the confusion be silenced... She had such seductive grey eyes.

"Stop that," Kent growled out in a feral tone worthy of a Gangrel.

I flinched and looked around in surprise, what had I been doing there?

"We have an agreement Jeanette," Kent strained himself to look at the deceptive schoolgirl attired vampire. "You play with me instead."

The blonde pouted. "Oh but I want both," she said sulkily before giggling and turning back to Kent. "She's so much fun, especially Sarah." She glanced back at me venomously. Sarah, Sarah, wants control, wants it all just to be a dream. Poor Chase is dead, Samantha is dead, Ariadne murdered them, Ariadne should die too. Let Sarah back, Sarah doesn't kill friends.

"STOP IT! STOP IT!" Someone was shrieking, someone was grabbing my hair and pulling hard, how rude, someone was making my head ache, making me confused. "STOP IT!"

"Jeanette!"

"I'm sorry Kent, you've been my umbrella on a rainy day but duckling here is something different."

Sarah is the sane one, Sarah is the normal one, she will make it all stop, no more voices, no more confusion, no more-

A blur moved towards Jeanette and I watched as she tumbled to the floor with a squeal. I turned to Kent in slack jawed astonishment, didn't think he would hit a girl, what a gentleman!

"Oh that wasn't nice," Jeanette squealed as tears filled her eyes.

Kent rubbed his wrists and flexed them as he glared down at her. "You broke the agreement," he snapped at her. "I said you could play with me if you left her alone, fuck I let you spank me and bite me, I mean what the hell?"

"Do you like getting spanked?" I queried curiously.

Kent spared a glower at me. "Not now Malk," he growled at me. "Leave her alone Jeanette, she's Isaac's if you fuck with her again he will send his troops here and maybe you don't care about that but your sister just might. More to the point, screw with her mind and I will set your bed sheets on fire."

"You wouldn't!" Jeanette flung herself at his feet and howled.

Kent nodded before he moved once more in a blur. The wardrobe doors opened and clattered shut and he returned to us, now decently clothed. Ah how handy that speed must be, particularly when one wanted to a snare a Pegasus, they were fast beasties!

"I'll do it and I'll take your rubber duck collection and send it back to you in pieces!" Kent vowed as he rubbed a hickey on his throat absentmindedly.

"You are such a bastard," Jeanette cursed as she stood up. She turned to me with a vicious gaze. "This is your fault!" she accused me. "You have to come here and ruin all the fun, why? I let you have Chase! Why can't I enjoy the Toreador without you interfering?" She frowned at me. "Can't you share?"

I shrugged. "Your sister traded useful words in exchange for the liberation of the poet; she thinks he's bad for business."

"What? How am I?" Kent demanded.

"Are we done with the liberation yet?" Romero queried, evidently bored.

Jeanette screamed and suddenly I felt as if something was tearing at me, trying to pull something out of me. Laugh, laugh and laugh and be sick, round and round the merry go round, when it stops off Sarah will jump. Laugh, laugh. The snickers escaped me before I could help it. Yes, laugh, laugh then scream and vomit and-

Kent grabbed me and marched me from the room and Jeanette's lure. I was shaking when we returned to the lift and trying to contain some giggles. When we returned to the ground floor, Kent ushered us out of the building and only when we were safely away from its grounds did he stop. He looked at me, gripped my shoulders tight and shook me. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you? What's your name?"

"Only three questions," I retorted brightly, "or is it wishes? Hmm choose carefully anyway."

He sighed. "You're still you, good. What were you doing here anyway?"

"Therese asked me to get you," I said sincerely, "she didn't want you dragging down the business or distracting Jeanette. She gave me clues to the relic hunter."

"Relic hunter?" Kent echoed.

Oops said too much, silly tongue, how dare you betray us!

Kent studied me waiting for more but I said nothing. He sighed. "You know I was there for you," he told me. "I knew Jeanette would be after you, after you killed that ghoul, so I went to her instead. She agreed that if I let her play with me she wouldn't try to play with you instead."

"How did you know of the ghoul's death?" I queried. "Do the voices talk to you too?"

"Er no, only Alex manages to be a mad Toreador, I'm quite normal. I investigated after you stormed off and found the body and another Ghoul who I," he grinned, "persuaded to talk."

"I'm sure that was a real sacrifice," Romero taunted, "getting tied up by a chick like her." I could almost sense the longing in his voice. Romero did have such strange fetishes; he appreciated my outfits more than anyone else.

"It damn well was," Kent defended himself, "she's nuts and violent." He rubbed his neck again. "There was no pleasure in that shit believe me, well... okay maybe some, she's not bad looking but fuck, she's a Malkavian, only other nut jobs would sleep with them and enjoy it."

Romero and I exchanged a look and then turned simultaneous glowers on Kent. He looked back at us nonplussed. "What?"

"So you bedded the dragon to save the damsel?" I queried.

"Damsel," he sneered, "don't flatter yourself kid, but yeah, I made a sacrifice for you," he leaned close to me, "to prove my loyalty to you once and for all. Whatever you're doing I'll keep it quiet from Nines, okay? I swear."

"Thus rendering your presence here pointless," Romero pointed out cheerfully before I could.

"Hey I'm still useful to you two," Kent replied moodily before turning his grey gaze on me. "So Malk, are we friends again?"

"Can we build sandcastles?"

He sighed. "Fine."

I let out a cry of delight and grabbed him in a hug. He leaned back in surprise and half-lifted his arms before relaxing. "Well Nines is going to be pissed when I return with nothing but hey, I'm sure it's totally worth it to build sandcastles."

"It will be when the shrimp people come and thank us for their new homes," I assured him.

"Great, great, come on then Malk, I need to feed and I'm sure you do too."

I broke from him and nodded.

"Let's hunt then."

"I'll go back to the apartment," Romero said.

"Which apartment?" Kent queried suspiciously. "That rat infested dump?"

"I think they're just abnormally large mice actually," I pointed out. "Or miniature squirrels dressed as rats to avoid suspicion."

Kent shuddered. "Go back to the one on Main Street," he looked at Romero, "Main Street 24, I forget the room number, just go for the vacant one."

Romero glanced at me for confirmation. The luxurious home of a missing guest, with the fleet footed princely ghoul and a hunter of bounties for company. I nodded, it would do and it would be nice to break in a newer bed. "Back left," I instructed. He nodded and then headed off.

Kent led the way to our hunt. He found a couple for us to follow and we walked at a discreet distance waiting for them to wander into a quieter area. "You know something," I said brightly.

"What?" Kent grumbled.

"Have you ever noticed there are no female cops about?"

"What are you talking about?" he retorted. "Of course there are."

"Well I've never seen one."

"Don't you have a police getup?" he queried.

I nodded happily. "Yes but I'm only a legal cop in the centaur lands."

"Of course you are Malk, of course you are."

We pounced on the couple when they headed into a car park, which was otherwise void of life. As I savoured I caught flashes of Sarah, calling Phil when she was drunk and had failed to chat up Chase, always jumping into Phil's bed to let him use and abuse her when she couldn't get satisfied elsewhere. Getting kicked out the next morning because he had his 'studies'. I tried to shake the memories away as a dog would shake off water but they clung to me like glue. Ah poor Phil, would Vandal kill him for his almost treachery or keep him alive now that Chase was dead and help was hard to find? Chase, oh stupid Sarah had such a soft spot for him!

"Pull back Malk," Kent said before tugging me back from my prey.

I turned on him with a snarl of annoyance and fought against him to go back. More blood, I needed it, it created such a wonderful fire within him, such a beautiful burn. Kent was stronger though and held me tightly until I gave up.

"You really need to stop feeding like that," he scolded me, "and don't kick either, it hurts. Seriously, I'm just stopping you from making a terrible Masquerade violation."

"You don't care for the rule makers," I scorned.

He shrugged. "Not really but there are more of them than you and I and I don't think your darling prince would enjoy hearing about your violations."

"Maybe not," I relented, "or maybe bad girls turn him on."

"Well that's an image I didn't need or want."

"Like you getting spanked by a crazy schoolgirl?" I queried innocently.

Kent scowled at me. "Alright, fair play," he grumbled, "come on; let's get back to your boyfriend."

"The zombie shooter isn't my boyfriend," I retorted as we started walking, "just my casual, long living, mortal lover."

"Oh, silly me for misunderstanding," came the sardonic reply. "Well whatever he is no sexual activity of any kind while I'm around, I don't want to see or hear it."

I pouted but gave no retort. Maybe if we were extra quiet Kent wouldn't even notice. When we reached the apartment however my plans were thwarted as Kent made Romero take the couch in the living room whilst he took the bed for himself, saying he needed the comfort. He then forbade me from cuddling up to Romero in the living room, and only after I nipped him a couple of times did he agree to share the bed.

I managed to fall asleep as the sun started to rise despite having only one pillow and a foot digging into my lower right leg.