Kent calmed down only after Ginger Swan had appeared, made a fuss over his teary, bloodied state, chided Isaac and then dried the Toreador's tears with a delicate lace handkerchief, and jostled him into the more comfortable living room and onto the couch. We had followed them in there and now I sat between Isaac and Alex, Heather stood gingerly close to Kent, whom Ginger sat beside, and Romero lingered uncomfortably against a wall. I wondered if all gingers were naturally cautious and that was how the word gingerly came about and if so, did that mean all black haired individuals had grim thoughts by nature and thus the word blackly was born? Hmm so what emotions then were blondely and brunettely?

After Kent babbled a little Ginger suggested kindly, "start from the beginning dear."

"Oh yes where was the poet born? And was it bloody and long?" I wondered curiously.

"Not that far back," Isaac commented dryly.

Kent spared me an unimpressed glower before turning his wounded stare on Isaac. "I was turned by a member of the Camarilla," he confessed, "a Toreador named Elisabeth, she brought me into the fold and I...well I supported them and I..." He grimaced. "I worked for them alright, I thought at the time that they had the right idea, keeping things secret from the Kine, setting laws down, it made sense then, I had laws to obey as a Kine and so I should as a Kindred otherwise there would only be chaos. So I worked for them and I climbed up the ranks and... Shit you're going to hate me, you're going to fucking hate me and cast me out," he grumbled miserably.

Ginger patted him gently on the head and I let out a growl, why could I not pet the poet? I felt Isaac grip my left hand kindly and yet firmly. "Now Kent," Ginger murmured, "the past is in the past, we cannot condemn people for having a history."

Kent shook his head, keeping his stare on Isaac. "I met him," he confessed, practically spitting out the word 'him', "that fucking charming, snaky, selfish dickhead of a prince."

"Ah the jester!" I exclaimed with delight.

"La Croix," Isaac commented coldly.

Kent nodded and grasped his head with both hands and let out another groan, always with the theatrics these Toreadors. He then dropped his hands by his side, bowed his head briefly and then looked back up with rage filled eyes. "I...fuck I admired him, I hate myself for it but I did, I believed in him even and I wanted to serve his cause. I was one of those deluded, idiotic Camarilla whelps, a slave to the cause, he'd command and I would bark and obey like a good dog," he snarled hatefully.

"What went wrong?" Alex spoke up quietly drawing a glare from Kent.

"Sabbat," Kent retorted angrily. "I had to keep their ranks down, and fuck up their plans, made more than a few enemies doing that, but sure it was all for the Camarilla, I was doing what was right, all for his highness, he paid me well, promoted me and promised me all these things. Ah fuck." He threw his head into hands, grasped at his hair tightly and sobbed.

"There now Kent," Ginger remarked gently, "you know he's bad now and that the Camarilla are too corrupt to be right. You were just a fledgling, you did not know any better and you followed the path your maker set out for you, we cannot blame you for that." As she spoke she looked to Isaac, at first pleadingly and then angrily, bidding the Baron to say something consoling.

All Isaac said was, "what happened Kent?"

"They took her," Kent rasped into his hands before raising his head once more, "my beautiful little sister. She was only fourteen and so innocent, she...well she was never all there, always a little slow at school, had to go to a special school, but it didn't stop her from being so good and happy, she was always happy. She always smiled until those fucks got her. What they did... I...I didn't believe they had her at first, they sent me her hair...her finger...all a ruse...He promised as much too, but how did they know her name? Then the photograph and a demand, me for her. He told me not to go, said it was obviously a trap, but how could I not? She was so sweet and innocent and like a child in the mind, she didn't deserve that, couldn't cope ah... I said I was going, so he promised me aid, said he wouldn't see someone he valued so much go out like that. An ambush, I would merely be bait, keep them distracted and give the troops a chance." Kent shook his head bitterly. "I went and then took me to her just like they promised. THEY HAD BEHEADED HER AND STITCHED A FUCKING HORSE'S HEAD TO HER NECK!" he screamed.

Ginger and Heather both let out gasps and then Heather began to cry quietly as Kent started to sob loudly. "A FUCKING HORSE'S HEAD!" he repeated.

Romero grumbled a curse whilst Alex murmured something that sounded sympathetic.

"And what did they do to you?" Isaac queried. I looked to the Baron and saw no horror or shock on his face; he masked it all too well. No doubt a trait picked up from the acting industry. I felt revulsion but showed only curiosity.

Kent quivered and sobbed and I thought he would not answer but at last he stammered, "lots, I was given to Gangrel rather than Tzimisce, a small mercy I suppose, they just wanted to hurt me not experiment on me. I kept telling myself night after night that help was coming and revenge with it, that that wanker valued me, that he knew where I was, that hundreds would come to wipe them all out. Of course no one did, I had gone into the trap, he wasn't going to reward my stupidity with rescue, at least I'm sure that's how he saw it. If I was foolish enough to go by myself to a Sabbat den then I wasn't worth having around. I should have expected it, if he had really wanted to help he would have sent Kindred with me, but no, I was idiotic, I believed his suggestion that I be bait and distraction. I thought it clever." He laughed bitterly then. "I deserved what I got but not her, not Abbey, oh shit the wounds on her, they kept her alive for four days, that's what they told me, four days of that! Bad enough for a normal adult, tortured by monsters, but her mind was so fragile and torn already, what that must have done to her... She screamed for me, they made her scream for me," he shuddered again, "they taped her doing it and played it to me over and over and over. Oh fuck did she scream."

"Surely he's told us enough," Ginger said as she attempted to embrace him with one hand only to be shrugged off.

"How did you escape?" Alex queried, evidently not agreeing with the featherless swan.

"I didn't," Kent choked out, "the Anarchs bombed the place because the Tzimisce started taking some of their members to...well experiment on. Nines found me in the debris; I was delirious from thirst, mad from pain and suicidal out of guilt. I would have happily burned in the sun and begged to but he wouldn't hear of it. Said I was lucky to survive and shouldn't spurn such fortune, I cursed at him, laughed at his mention of luck and begged to die but he was determined to save me."

"You didn't tell him about La Croix, did you?" Alex accused. "Or the Camarilla?"

"No," Kent grumbled, "I was too delirious to consider telling him, pity since he might have let me burn if I had. When he explained who and what he was and all about his hatred of that asshole, well I had to join. I wanted revenge, I still do, he let me believe he valued me, promised me help and then let me go to that hell and abandoned me to it. Shit I did deserve it but I still want him to pay."

I tugged my hand free from Isaac, stood up and approached Kent then. "Poor poet," I sympathised, "confused loyalties and misplaced guilt. Couldn't burn and still can't so someone else must. Such a loss you would be though, you have your affections and uses." I grinned brightly at him. "You can build sandcastles, and play sex games to keep me safe."

He gave me a stony gaze. "Are you trying to comfort me?" he queried doubtfully.

"The loss cuts deep," I murmured, "and they should pay, not you though, you did not do it to her. Don't believe that poet, remember her as the playful pony lover, not as their victim, memories must be happy."

"I did do it to her," he snapped waspishly, "they took her to get to me, they dragged her into this world because of me and they tortured her as revenge on me. I was too late to believe she was there, she suffered needlessly because I doubted and then I was too late to save her."

"You would have never been on time," I mused, "they held the watch not you Kent, they do not have mercy and they make no fair trades. You earned her death at least, if you had simply ignored, she would have never been given release."

He glowered at me. "Are you trying to suggest that her dying is something I should be thankful for?" he demanded.

"Better than her continuing to suffer," Alex spoke up calmly, "which is what would have happened if you had listened to La Croix and just accepted you could do nothing and left her to her fate. You risked everything Kent and even if you don't realise it you did save her in a way, just not the way that would have been preferable."

Kent shook his head angrily. "You're both wrong," he growled out. "I shouldn't have been so damn thick as to join the Camarilla, I shouldn't have done their dirty work, his dirty work, he asked me to destroy some Sabbat and I did, then they took their revenge out on Abbey, but it should have been him! He never pays the price for his demands!"

"No he doesn't," Isaac spoke up at last, "and too many suffer for it. Kent, you were just another victim of his games, and your sister was a victim of Sabbat brutality, something you cannot blame yourself for. You could not have foreseen what they could and would do; no doubt you were not educated well in the ways of the Sabbat. You went knowingly into a trap to save her, that's brave, not foolish, and I admire you for it. I am only so sad to hear that it did not end well for your sister, but glad that you at least could be saved so that I might have you as a friend and ally."

"Then you still consider me those things?" Kent questioned cautiously. "Even though I hid my alliance with him and the Camarilla from you?"

"You are no longer one of them, and I will not hold your past against you, it is the present you that concerns me," Isaac answered gently.

Kent sighed. "I'm no better than her," he muttered as he gestured up at me loosely with his right hand, "I've served both sides now, it makes me unreliable. Though I am only an Anarch, that I swear, but still, my past taints me, Nines wouldn't trust me, he doesn't trust her despite all she's done for us."

I beamed proudly at that. "Nines is paranoid," I mused, "but Isaac is wiser."

"Indeed," Isaac commented stiffly, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. "Nines has simply suffered too much to be trusting, he dwells close to the Prince, and as such suffers much misfortune, and must question his allies more as they too dwell close to the Prince. I can afford to be more open minded, plus the Brujah blood in him can be unforgiving, but do not hold it against him, either of you. Nines is a good ally and when you have his trust you shall keep it."

"Until he has good reason to take it back," Kent muttered woefully, "which he will when he learns about me. I don't deserve his trust, he saved me and I kept this from him."

"And you should continue to do so," the Baron advised, "for he is bull headed sometimes, he will probably not be as understanding as I, though he should be. It will be a secret kept for the best reasons I think, your silence on your past will not harm the cause after all."

Kent looked at Isaac with surprise whilst I grinned at him happily. "Then...you don't want to kick me out or let Nines know?" he questioned slowly.

Isaac nodded. "I believe you are loyal to us and have been since you joined us, you were with the Camarilla out of misguidance not malice and you are with them no longer. I won't hold that against you. I trust you Kent and shall continue to do so. As for Nines, you are a strong ally to him; it would be a pity for him to lose you simply because he has poor judgement when it comes to one's history. He has already lost Ariadne's usefulness; let us spare him the loss of you."

"I was indeed useful," I lamented.

Isaac turned his golden gaze on me. "So Ariadne, now that you know of this tragedy are you still so ready to go into the Sabbat's den?"

I nodded eagerly. "I must, the Prince depends on me, a key for a treasure, only I can find it," I bragged. "It will be treacherous but I'm brave, I can win this key."

"Idiot," Kent spat out, "fucking idiot. They will torture you like they did me, maybe worse; maybe some Tzimisce will cut you up and reknit you as a mutant. As for your Prince, you are no more valued to him than I was, if you fail at this he won't come to help you, he will simply send another."

"I am not failure, I've already delayed with so many tasks and I should make haste, they key is important, for the nodding relic with the crowned Kindred."

"Noddist relic," Kent corrected in a tired manner as he shook his head. "Well you are on your own I won't go back to one of their hells willingly."

Isaac sighed. "Ariadne, Kent's situation is not unique, he was not the victim of particularly brutal Sabbat, they are all just as brutal and violent." He turned to Romero and I followed his stare. The grave keeper looked back at us as calmly as he could and gave a sardonic smile. "Perhaps we should tell her how you and I met Romero," Isaac suggested.

I clapped my hands with delight. "More secrets and stories, tales of violence and loss to sway the minds but the voices are one in this decision, must find the key."

"Domination," Kent grumbled, "he's so fucking good at dominating."

I glanced at him curiously but he had bowed his head so I could not spy anything in his grey gaze. Did the weeping Toreador speak of experience?

"I'll be blunt," Romero spoke up in his deadpan way, "I didn't know anything about your lot or them, I was just your average guy minding his own business and thinking that the world was dark but not that dark. I was out with two of my friends; we had a few drinks and then went on a stroll through a park where we got jumped. They were monsters, no other way to describe them, ugly, misshapen bastards with horns and weird skin, nothing human about them unlike most of you. They took us to one of their dungeons, needed some new meat they said and well...you know what they do."

"What?" I demanded. He was being purposely vague, name no names and you don't have to relive it, no details and you don't have to see it all over again. Your best friend, his girlfriend that you loved too, all twisted and bent, screaming and shrieking, one is a pile of mixed up bones and flesh now, probably rotted but maybe not and the other, she got away. A great beast, once one now three. "Unhappy trio," I murmured, "the many legged beast with two screaming minds."

Romero stiffened and gave me a wary gaze. "That sight of yours really is a curse," he muttered. "That's what they do, at least it's what they did, cut up people, joined them onto other things, melding the flesh, that's what he called it, reshaped bodies to make minions for themselves."

"He?" Alex echoed.

"Andrei," Isaac answered, "leader of the Sabbat in Los Angeles, a Tzimisce of course, it is they who twist the flesh with their discipline Vicissitude," he explained coldly, "an abhorrent act of nature that they use to make monsters."

"Anyway," Romero continued, with a forced air of calm, "they had some fun with us, and then Isaac and his army showed up."

"I know the details hurt Romero," Isaac commented sympathetically, "but in this case they are necessary, you must tell Ariadne what happened so she will not end up in their clutches."

Romero sighed heavily and fixed his olive gaze on me. "Alright, alright," he muttered. "They tortured all of us, wanted to see how long we could withstand the pain and what pain we could cope with best, they wanted to know how durable our bodies were and what improvements needed made. They started to experiment after a while, picked Rick first, turned him into...well there's no word for it. Somehow kept alive throughout it too, don't know how and I don't want to but that guy...Andrei, he was the best at it and the most involved. He had the rest keep testing Ellie and I while they kept working on Rick, I saw them stretch his skin while they burned me, they broke his bones, took one of his arms clean off and stuck two more on him, turned his organs out, stretched his spine, well you get the idea. They went too far and what they were left with was a clumsy monster, it could barely walk but they kept it. Then they turned on Ellie, I begged them to deal with me instead but hey, they'd already dealt with one man, it was time to see how a woman compared. Well they did worse things to her, and others, I forgot there were others...easy to drown out the screams with your own I suppose. One woman was pregnant now shit, how did I forget that?" He shrugged. "Suppose I just wanted to," he murmured indifferently.

"Fuck," Kent said bluntly.

Heather clapped her hands to her ears, quivered and whimpered. Kent ignored his Ghoul and Ginger was forced to stand and reach out to her sympathetically. Nervous though, the redhead pulled away with a shake of her head. I wanted to console too, to embrace the poor grave keeper but I feared he would lose his resolve if I did.

"Yeah well turns out babies aren't much use to them; they took it out and then...then..." He looked hard at me. "Look either you go into their den or you don't, it's stupid and dangerous but I think you get that now, nothing I say is going to add to that."

I nodded. It was horrid, bloody and almost unbelievable, I should not go to the monsters and yet I could not fail or be late again, the Prince had been clear and he had such faith, surely I could do this. He said I could, so I could, yes, I was strong. Ah but I was just one being, well many beings but only one body, foolish wasn't it? Yet he had said, my handsome Prince had been most firm about the matter and I could not disobey.

"No keep going," Alex urged, "you're getting through to her, I can feel it. She's cracking, a chink in one mind at least." Hmm was that almost Malkavian talk from my beloved Toreador? My sire? No Xander was the sire, remember? Dust now, staked by brave Alex. No sire, the false one was gone too, just a fanged orphan in this world.

Romero flickered a gaze to him and I wondered if he knew the true tale of Alex and Xander, most likely not, probably just told what he needed to be like firespawn and the others. "Alright, well if it helps you crazy cat then you can hear the gory details and I promise, they are gory. They stitched them together, Ellie, the woman they had forced an abortion on and another, a third whose lower half was all they needed, she was fortunate, she got to die. Now understand they're not quick about it, I counted out thirty days before I just stopped counting, thirty days of that hell, ten of which they worked on Rick and five on Ellie and then some, when her screams stopped sounding like hers and instead became the wails of a monster, then I stopped counting."

"What about you grave guard?" I pondered quietly. "What of your pain?"

"Nothing compared to hers," he said dismissively, "of course you could suppose the pain of watching her go through that was enough for me. Pity the Sabbat didn't think that, they flailed my skin, wanted to see how quickly it tore off, then they poured things on and in the blood, things that burned and itched, and poisoned it. I suppose I probably would have died soon enough or simply become one of their things, certainly they were about to twist my skin and add some parts to me that I didn't want but then the Baron came."

"Too late for your friends," Isaac commented wistfully, "and too late to destroy that revolting Tzimisce, he ran before I and my allies arrived."

"And then you gave Romero the blood gift," I concluded the grim tale.

"Well I would've died otherwise," Romero murmured and I saw in his eyes that like Kent he would have preferred death then.

"We both lost people to them," Kent remarked as he looked at Romero before turning his stare on me, "and if you go we'll lose you too."

"He's right crazy cat," Romero commented calmly, "vampire or not you won't stand a chance against them."

I shook my head in irritation. "I've already delayed, he said not to, just for aid but not for bitter memories. Besides, the Sabbat draw hunters to Hollywood, they're bad for everyone, must sniff them out and burn them down."

"They have Kine helping them," Isaac warned me, "even if you could locate them it would be difficult to plant a bomb to obliterate them."

"And it might destroy the key," I scorned, "no bombs, find the treasure then deal out the fire."

"You're determined to be awkward and stupid," Kent scorned. "Domifuckination. Look I need to feed, come with me Malk, you need to feed too and I'm sure his highness permitted delay for that."

I nodded though I was unsure.

"Well come on then." He stood up from the couch and looked guiltily at the trembling Ghoul. "Stay here Heather," he ordered, "you're safe here." He glanced at Isaac. "That is, if you're allowed to."

Isaac nodded. "Indeed, Romero can find her more humane quarters, he knows this building well." He then stood up and stepped close to Kent. "Bring her back tonight," he said pleadingly.

Kent nodded. "I will, don't worry, I know the ins and outs of Domination, typical Ventrue trick, they just have to control everyone one way or another." He turned his attention back to me and grabbed my right arm tightly. "Let's go already," he said gruffly.

So out to the grim streets of Hollywood we went. I thought the sight of scantily clad vulnerable women would cheer Kent up but he barely glanced at them. Instead we kept walking until we reached the pulsing, bubbling Vesuvius, into which Kent escorted me. Perhaps he needed women that were simply not wearing clothes at all then. Not to my tastes but then their blood was bittersweet and it did irk the usually composed V.V so when I dined here.

Inside Kent did not stop to gawk at the dancing women clad in tight underwear, some silk, some leather, some lace and some see through, instead he drew me up to V.V's private quarters where two close friends of hers, both dancing Kine, relaxed in a hot tub. Though they were naked Kent did not stare and I began to worry.

"Kent Alan Ryan," V.V purred at him with a tight smile, "how many women's hearts have you broken now? You know I don't mind you sampling fluids from my girls, but you leave them wet with tears and that is difficult to bear. They all believe your promises."

Kent shrugged. "I'm not here for any of that, I just want somewhere private to talk with Ariadne." He yanked my arm gruffly, pulling me close to him and into V.V's scornful grey vision.

"Oh Kent," she said with a frown, "you could have anyone, you have the looks and the charms, and I really did not think she was your type."

"She's not," he protested vehemently, "it's not like that V.V, I just need to talk to her, somewhere private and safe."

"What about supper?" I queried in a tone of hurt. Had he betrayed me again? And I was growing thirsty too.

"Soon, soon," he grumbled.

V.V stepped round to her desk and hunted through the drawers before producing a silver key with a blue, numbered tag on it. "Down stairs and across the hall, all the private rooms are there and if you do feel the need to get frisky, then please consider my girls, I would rather you break another heart than lower your standards."

I forked out a tongue at her before Kent accepted the key, gave his thanks and dragged me off. We headed down through the crowds of dancers acting as waitresses, ogling men, curious women, groups there for a dare or a party and the usual collection of perverts. Kent was swift in pulling me into a corridor of blue doors, unlocking one, pushing me inside and then locking it again.

He turned to me, his face torn between anger and grief and his grey eyes wide, burning with betrayal and hate. It was not for me though, no but for another who took his heart and savaged it. Now I would hear why the poet had no more attachments to Kine or Kindred that the grave guardian did. Romero had lost his love Ellie, a love he had never even truly had, it had been too much, he would not risk that pain again but who had Kent lost?

"I will tell you this only because I think you really are too naive to understand the danger of him, not the Sabbat, him. He will use and abuse you, mould you to your purpose however he can and then abandon you when you no longer serve it. You cannot tell anyone," his face became tragic then, "I am begging you Malk please don't tell anyone this. I know sometimes you can't help babbling everyone's secrets as you do, or at least you claim you cannot help it but keep this secret, please."

I nodded. "I will keep my tongues silent on the matters of the broken heart."

His gaze widened a touch then before he nodded too. "I worked for a few months for La Croix and I admired him and I respected him and then...then well shit then I liked him, he had a way with words, he was commanding, and he seemed so noble, a self-sacrificing martyr who wanted only justice and sanity. Fuck was I naive. Only once did I question him and then his words were in my head and they never left me. He had some Kindred beheaded for attacking someone in public, they were new, their maker had abandoned them and they did not understand, I thought he was being harsh. He told me one needed to be harsh, sacrifices for the greater good, he then told me to be the same, and he ordered me to be, though subtly. Soon everything he told me to do I was doing without question, he was dominating me and I didn't even realise, his words were always in my head, they never left me."

He paused and gave a bitter laugh. "Something you understand I'm sure. He was always in my mind, I could never stop thinking about him, it was horrible and yet...well shit it was wonderful too, every time I was in his presence I was happy, I would have done anything just to get an audience with him, to please him and he knew that and it amused the hell out of him."

He paused and looked at me coldly, his eyes full of hurt. "Then one night, well he called me to his office, shit I was hopeful but I didn't dare think, well you don't need the details, he made me submit to him like a dog, scream his name, I was there all night begging him to do things I would never fucking beg anyone to do. Ah he just toyed with me, denied me and satisfied himself. I was happy though because I thought it meant we'd made a connection, that he liked me, that I mattered, shit I was so stupid. It was all just domination in the end, and a bet, I learned that a lot later when I was with the Anarchs, overheard some smug Ventrue joking about it, how they remembered when La Croix's skills of domination had been questioned, how he could never persuade the straight handsome Toreador into his bed. Well he always like a challenge and loathed anyone thinking him weak."

"So the Prince lured you with mind tricks and broke your heart," I murmured sorrowfully. "Not all Domination though, you say that and think it but there were feelings there, but Kindred mustn't love, it hurts too much but the Toreadors cannot help it."

Kent shuddered. "Whatever," he snarled, "just know it's what he is doing to you, dominating you, getting inside your head, for a whim, for a service, maybe for a dare. You are a pawn to him, nothing and no one matter to him, he will use and abuse you like he did to me, perhaps not in the same manner but he will do it nonetheless. It's all just a fucking game to him, so shake him off before he goes too far. I know it's hard, I know you're not even really aware of it no matter how many times you are told, that's all part of the domination, that you never really know it because if you did you might resist. You have to though Malk, you've got several voices in there, and they can't all be under his control."

I shook my head in confusion and smiled. "I must get the key," I stated simply.

Thinking of changing the rating to M but then the game is M so anyone reading fanfics for it as already heard the bad language and seen the gore so...