Our driver left us on the outskirts of town and we entered an abandoned warehouse sandwiched between a derelict cinema and a dodgy looking bar. Kent led the way into a room, dark, dusty and falling apart, its main features were cracked light bulbs and a large staircase missing several steps. "Come on," Kent murmured, "Nines and the others are up here. We can hide out here for a bit."

"Til the Prince stops looking," I mused as I followed him up, "but his paranoia will keep the eyes staring." I felt my knee give way as I tried to jump over a gap and instead started to fall ungracefully towards the hole. Kent seized me, quick as ever, before I could collide with wood and shower us in splinters. He glanced down at my furry right hand, which had torn through his glove and immediately pushed me into the wall and continued walking.

I hobbled after him, taking care to lean against the wall and using the banister to hoist myself over the gaps. My leg continued to throb and I thought Kent might escape me but he moved slowly though he never looked back. I wondered if he, Isaac or any of the others would ever get over their Toreador prejudices. If not, then why had Kent come for me?

We reached the top floor, a dimly lit room with a couple of wooden chairs, a single, wonky table and a few discarded boxes in it, and several familiar Kindred. I sensed the punch too late, thirst and confusion had made me sloppy. I was reeling backwards but before I could even hit the floor the kicks came, to the ribs, to the back.

"Fuck Nines!" Kent protested. I glanced his way as I rolled from the blows and tried to lash back, but the Brujah had that accursed Celerity and moved too quick for me. I saw Kent seized by an unknown Brujah and Helter Skelter. So he was not a traitor to me once more, well at least that Groundhog Day was over.

Nines stopped his beating as swiftly as he had begun and I sat up hesitantly, regarding him warily. "That's just a taste Malk," he addressed me. "I don't like to beat on others but for the greater good, so to speak, I will. Now you've been trading and holding information as it suits you between that fuck La Croix and Isaac, but there's no more time for your games. I didn't help Kent rescue you out of the goodness of my heart, I want answers. What did La Croix have you chasing up with the Giovanni? What did you find and who else is involved? The Kuei-jin? The Sabbat?"

I grinned back at him, he was not Isaac or the Prince, he was a brutal, misguided thug, he wanted to help the downtrodden but he would not commit to being their champion. Why should he have answers? Would he even believe them? No, he wasn't mad enough, logic was this Kindred's way, he had no fear of the burning bogeyman. "What's happened?" I wondered. "I've been away for a few days, the Prince's guest."

"Guest?" Nines sneered as he folded his arms and spared a glance at the struggling, cursing Kent. "Kent are you hearing this? She was his guest, not his prisoner, look I get it, you miss Abbey, but shit, this Malk isn't her and she's only causing trouble for you."

"He had her in chains!" Kent snarled angrily. "She was his prisoner, and you know that, the cop told Damsel, the Sheriff took her away! And I know she's not Abbey, alright!"

"Do you?" Nines shot back. "Your sister was mad-"

"Not like her!" Kent spat out. "Fuck Nines just stop it! Isaac loves her, and La Croix was probably going to execute her, even if she's too mad to know it."

"No," Nines argued coolly as he returned his frosty blue stare on me. "He wouldn't hesitate if he wanted to kill her, not when he had her in his grasp, he's too paranoid to keep threats he can deal with around. No, she knows something, something he doesn't want anyone but him hearing. Now, what is it Malk? You've got one chance to sort out your voices and tell me."

I giggled and thrust some Hysteria Nines way, of course I did not have the strength to crack his iron will. It was a mistake, but it was worth it to see the outrage in his eyes. Why should I help him? Why help any of them? What had they done to earn it? Best stick with the voices. Nines came for me again, I lashed out in retort but he was bigger, faster and had Potence to make his attacks hurt that little bit more. I used my clawed hand to try and strike out at his eyes but I barely grazed his chin before his boot slammed up my jaw.

"Not telling! Not telling!" I taunted as my ribs cracked beneath his other boot. I tried to drive him into madness as I went for him with a scream and started gnawing at his leg with my fangs. He grabbed me with both hands and flung me into the wall.

"If you don't tell me you won't tell anyone," Nines warned me, "you're too dangerous to keep around." He took out a gun and fired, one shot to the gut, but the second I dodged. Bullets don't kill Kindred unless you nail them with enough of them but damn they still hurt like Hell. I wished I had my sword but the Sheriff had taken it, as if his gigantic blade wasn't enough, greedy bastard.

"Stop it!" Kent protested. "Fuck Nines she didn't tell him and she's not going to!"

Nines ignored him, probably just as well, the Prince might still be my only potential ally despite the hurts he had done me. Who else did I have to shield me from the burning? Alone I was not strong enough, I needed a Prince or Baron to help me, or an elder, was there any, other than the crier on the web? An antediluvian to fight the ancient beast coming for us all. "We will burn!" I hissed. "We will burn!"

He came at me again, fists, feet and more whizzing bullets. BANG! BANG! My eye was leaking, I could not see properly, my knee was sinking, and putting me off balance. I was useless! I had no speed, no strength! Still I tried as a bullet tore my left cheek apart. I sent out hallucinations and cackled with them. Another bullet cut through my already deformed knee and I hit the floor.

"You're too fucking mad," Nines cursed. "I am sorry Malk, I wish it could be different but you're too much of a risk."

"Enough of the beating Nines," Jack called out in his ever mocking voice, "she's not going to tell you anything, probably too mad to even know what it is she's meant to know." He laughed harshly at that.

"We're all going to burn," I sang out, "and blaze, and rot!" I laughed as I forced myself to my feet again. "But why should you be warned? Why should any of you? What have you done for me? Always mistrusting, you won't believe the truth of me whether it's truth or not! I should tell the Prince! Maybe I wasn't imprisoned, just protected!" Oh how I wanted that to be the truth, shielded out of paranoia not hate. I had had enough of revulsion and hate, the Toreadors had given me their fill of it.

I saw Nines raise his gun once more, ready to send another bullet into my lifeless heart. I was too weak now; it would turn me to ash. "I WANTED TO HELP THE ANARCHS! I screeched. "I WANTED TO BELONG! BUT NO ONE WOULD HAVE ME! ONLY THE PRINCE! HE IS NOT DISGUSTED BY MY DEFORMITIES! HE TRUSTS ME! HE SEES MY WORTH! HE DOES! HE DOES!" I grasped at my hair with both hands and pulled it hard until the blood started seeping down my skull. "MY UGLINESS DOES NOT BOTHER HIM! BUT ISAAC ABANDONED ME FOR IT! I WOULD HAVE HELPED HIM! I WOULD HAVE SHARED!" I screamed. "BUT NO ONE BELIEVES THE TONGUE OF A MALKAVIAN!"

BANG!

I flinched, expecting my body to burn anew and only when it didn't did I dare to look. Kent had broken free and pushed Nines' hand into the air. He broke from the Brujah and turned to me with a wild look. "Get out of here!" he snapped.

"Traitor!" The Brujah who had held him cursed at him.

Chaos broke out once more. A Gangrel, Skelter and the Brujah leaped for Kent whilst Nines came for me. Jack stayed out of the ruckus, just as well as I suspected he could rip me apart quicker than Nines. I hurried for the stairs, hesitating when I heard Kent's woeful scream. I turned back and saw his skin being torn from him, he tried to move but three foes were too many for him. His clothes were turning to blood soaked rags, the Gangrel's claws were tearing at his face. Kent had turned coats for the last time.

I could not leave him; he had tried to help me, friend, foe and would be brother. I could not see him perish. I went back to him but Nines blocked me, ready to fire that gun again and end me once and for all. "AN ANCIENT!" I screamed. "THAT'S THE SECRET!"

Nines hesitated and looked at me with a cold curiosity.

"Let Kent go," I begged, "let him go." He was still screaming but his throat was becoming clogged with blood and I knew he was weakening.

Nines' eyes widened in surprise and he glanced sharply over his shoulder. "Leave Kent alone!" he snapped. "He's still one of us even if this Malk has clouded his judgement!"

Obediently, though with a few protesting snarls and glowers, the Anarchs backed from their own, though the Brujah made a point of spitting on Kent's bloodied face. I watched in pity as Kent immediately rubbed at his face with an anxious groan, still vain even in pain, still desperately afraid of dirt and germs, the curse of the Toreador.

Nines let out a grunt before lowering his gun. "I shouldn't have done things this way," he muttered, "I just assumed you were trying to betray us," he grumbled at me. "That you were only La Croix's boot licker and you were trying to get close to Isaac to get information. But you do care, don't you? Somewhere in your madness you love Kent and Isaac." He had gone too far, become like his enemies, hurting his own, it was not the Anarch way, or so they claimed. Camarilla, Anarchs, Sabbat, how could any of them call me mad?

I nodded. "I do," I admitted, "but they would not have me after the crafter played remodelling with me. The Prince took me in; he had faith in me when they had none."

"We drove you to him," Kent choked out. "I tried to warn you...but fuck it was me pushing you to him, I and Isaac...shit. Shows what assholes we were...if you had..." He winced. "Had to go to him." I looked to him as he spat blood onto his ruined shirt and gave a groan of annoyance before he rubbed at it feebly with one hand. "Shit, shit, shit," he cursed as he rubbed furiously with both hands.

"Makes sense," Jack commented dryly, "well as much sense as things make in this place." He laughed again, deep and tauntingly. "You can't blame her Nines, you didn't trust her."

"I still don't," Nines muttered, "but I get that maybe it's just insanity and not intentional treachery. Well look Malk, time to pick a side. Tell me what La Croix had you chasing."

I smirked at him acrimoniously. "You still won't believe me; think it madness causing lies or lies caused by madness. I went for the box, wasn't locked, something else opened from within. A boy but not a boy, a demon, bloodsucker, war wielder, doting priest. He spoke of Haqim and burning, purging, he comes to convert and martyr those he cannot. If I am madness he is war."

"What are you babbling about?" Nines demanded.

"She went to a dd...den of Sabbat to get a relic...for Seb-La Croix," Kent muttered, "the key, remember?"

"Yes," Nines retorted carefully, "so against the odds you got the key and stupidly gave it to his highness."

"For the wolf's studies," I commented brightly. "Twas a key to a relic to a map to a stolen coffin. Ah the Giovanni, gluttony is their vice, drink the blood for the power, couldn't resist, fools. They stole the box before his highness could and..." Burning. I shrieked as I felt my flesh begin to blaze, first an irritation of heat but then a torturous blast of fire. I swatted at myself, fell to the floor, rolled and screamed. "Burn! We will burn! BLAZE! BURN! ROT!"

"This again," I heard Nines comment wearily through my shrieks. "So La Croix thought to get himself an ancient's coffin, but the Giovanni beat him to it. Well it would only be a threat if it's true."

"Nines man," Skelter spoke up, "the ancients, we're all chained to them; it's some powerful shit and she... The way she's been talking, about burning and purging, what if there was an ancient in the coffin?"

"Gone now!" I snapped as I paused to grin at Skelter. "Free! Out to purge and burn!" I laughed wildly as the burning ceased, to be replaced by a thrill of fear instead. "Makes the flesh burn in the mind but soon for real. Poisons the blood. The Kine taste like ash, the blood boils beneath the skin!"

"Blood," Kent murmured wearily, "there's an idea."

Nines glanced back at him and I saw him tense slightly, guilty Anarch, let his own be beat, not much better than the Prince he loathed. Two sides of one coin, Kent could never choose right, both hurt him in the end. "You can't feed like that."

We all looked to the stairs keenly as the presence of a Kindred interrupted our wonderfully awkward scene. Heavy boots clomping up the fragile wood, no sense of subtly, had to be an ally or a very cocky foe. A familiar, furious faced redhead appeared at the top of the stairs, dearest den mother Damsel. "The Cammy fucks are hunting," she greeted us as she glanced about warily. "What the Hell happened here?" she then exclaimed as she took in mine and Kent's beaten states. "Shit I thought we were helping these two, change of plan? Should we throw the Cammy bitch to the Ventrue sniffers?"

"No Damsel," Nines retorted firmly. "How close are the Camarilla?"

"They are circling Downtown, searching everywhere; his royal dickness must want her bad." She looked at me moodily with curious pale eyes. "What do you have that he values?" she demanded.

Kent staggered to his feet with a grunt and limped over to us. "We need to get out of here," he muttered.

"Go back to Hollywood," Nines ordered, "Isaac will be able to protect you."

Was the Baron strong enough to stop the burning? Would he? No, I disgusted him. I shook my head. "He will not help ugly things," I said frostily.

"Ariadne," Kent addressed me softly with a wince, "I know you're hurting...and I know we caused that but please..." He grasped at his right side and swallowed down a mouthful of blood. "La Croix will make you his prisoner then...then he'll learn what he wants to and get rid of you. It's what he does." I saw hurt shining in his grey eyes, his reunion with the Prince had been difficult, for all his hate he still had fondness too.

"And what did Isaac do?" I queried calmly. "He got rid of me." Oh but we left, remember? But it was forced, made to feel most unwelcome, the ugly guest, the mutated thorn in the side.

"You wanna get killed by the Prince, fine, I say go ahead," Damsel snapped, "but do it quick, before those Cammy fucks cause trouble for all of us."

I nodded and started limping for the stairs. I then felt Nines' hand clamping down on me. "Yeah Malk I sympathise, I really do, but I'm still not letting you waltz back to La Croix in case there's something more to tell him that you haven't told us. Everyone come on, we're getting these two out of here."

I would have protested but my wounds bid me to be silence and one of the more sensible voices reminded me that Nines had speed I could not hope to beat. So I allowed Nines to escort me down the rickety steps and outside.

We had to move swiftly, I aided or rather forced by the number man, as we ducked down alleyways and hurried up open streets. Twice we spotted a small cluster of hunting Ventrue, the third time a group of Toreador and Ventrue spotted us and Damsel and two Brujah were forced to confront and distract them. We passed several taxis but it was clear they would query mine and Kent's state too much, and just as we began to despair there was the familiar yellow bug, ready to scuttle us towards destiny. Nines bundled me in the back without a word and gave the driver an order as Kent slid in on the other side, taking care to keep a gap between us. Once we were in, the taxi immediately speeded off and I sagged in exhaustion and thirst.

It seemed an age before we reached the familiar sordid streets of Hollywood and when we did I saw that the sky was dangerously close to lightening. When I opened my door all I could smell was the blood, there were too many Kine, left, right, up, down, blood, blood, blood!

"Hold it together," Kent growled in my ear, oddly feral for a Toreador. I glanced up at him and saw his irises tinged with red, he was as close to our murderous side as me. He gestured loosely ahead to Isaac's suspiciously never open jewellery shop and I limped down the alleyway to the glittering side entrance. I reached for the door with my gnarled furry hand and instead slumped against it in despair; I was too hideous to be granted entry here.

Kent reached over me and knocked loudly. A minute later a moody firespawn answered with a scowl. "Oh joy you have returned," he greeted us both sardonically, "and in a lovely state too."

"Not ended it with a bang yet?" Kent retorted jarringly as he pushed me in.

Ash leaned back from me with a look of revulsion and an obvious shudder before turning a hostile look to Kent. "I expect the insults from the failed artist but I thought you had better taste."

"Sorry, I'm too hungry to have tolerance," Kent growled out.

I tensed up when the door to the living dead room opened and the golden eyed Baron stepped out. Was I welcome? Was he happy? Tolerant? Angry? Was I? I hated him for spurning me and hated myselves for our hideous outer appearance. Yet, the Baron made the yelling, groaning, whispering and muttering quiet, with him there was a slight peace. With him there was safety.

"Ash," Isaac commanded firmly, "procure blood for these two quickly."

"I'm not an errand boy," Ash protested instantly.

"Now!" Isaac snapped back.

I relished the look of shock of pretty dead phoenix's face before the usual miserable scowl returned and he scurried off.

I looked back to Isaac and saw him smudged in a faint light, the sight was ensnaring and terrifying all at once and I could not look away. "You will feed when Ash returns," he addressed us in a serious voice, "and then explain what happened. In the meantime, be still and control yourselves."

I was frozen in immediate obedience, it was something akin to Dominate and yet not quite the same, I followed not because of his voice but because of him, for a moment his whole being sent shivers of fear and awe through me. We were tense for what seemed like hours but was most likely minutes, Isaac remained throughout it watching us carefully and quietly. I sank slightly to one side in pain whilst Kent panted and muttered to himself. When Ash returned all I smelled was the blood.

We attacked like animals, two lions reaching for the zebra, wisely Ash threw the blood packs at us and we were quick to tear them apart. I swallowed mine in one long gulp, not pausing to savour, just needing that familiar tang. Though it was not as pleasant as usual the frenzying began to curb when Ash tossed me another pack and I devoured it too.

"Finest vitae from VV's stash," Ash grumbled, "she wasn't happy about giving it."

"But you were happy to take it," I mused, "better hers than yours. Besides, the snakes steal yours anyway." I licked my lips joyfully and whipped my head round to see if Kent had leftovers, but sadly not.

"Now, what happened?" Isaac demanded.

I let Kent explain what he could, too weary to even try. It was only when Isaac's curious stare fell on me and he queried, "what of this coffin Ariadne?" That I was forced to speak.

"An ancient," I muttered, "a burned boy who will burn, he was in the house. He will purge and burn, make examples of us all. That is what I know and now you do too, though you deserve nothing."

Isaac flinched at the accusation and sighed mournfully. "Your ruination broke my heart," he murmured. "What they did to you...your eye, your hand, your leg, it's too much. I am sorry, so sorry that our time together is tarnished by it, that you too are hurt by it and isolated for it."

"The Prince did not isolate me for it," I interrupted tartly. Oh a half-truth, naughty naughty, had us in the dungeon, all alone, well all of us alone, no one outside the web.

"No but he did isolate you because of what you knew," Kent growled out. "The only reason he didn't execute you is because you hadn't told him about this coffin yet."

"Can an ancient really be among us?" Isaac pondered aloud. "I'm not one for superstitions but if one is it must mean something."

"The Italian masters stole it and woke it," I murmured.

"So it got disturbed from its slumber and is cranky now," Kent grumbled, "awesome. Does it have to mean more than that Isaac? Is that not dangerous enough?"

"If it's true," Ash was swift to sneer. I looked his way and he gave me a condescending stare in return as he folded his arms. "This is coming from someone who thinks there are unicorns, goblins, phoenixes, dwarves and other nonsense everywhere."

"IT BURNS!" I shrieked at him angrily. How dare he disbelieve, the non-believers would be sacrificed first on the pyre. "AND HAS BEEN BURNED! THERE WILL BE A PURGING!"

"Ariadne!" Isaac snapped in annoyance. I purposely avoided the Baron's golden gaze though I felt his heated stare upon me. "We must consider all possibilities," he mused, "and pay special attention to the news for signs of anything amiss. Tomorrow evening though, dawn is fast approaching and you two need your strength back," he addressed Kent and I. "We will all retreat for the morning."

"Where?" I queried savagely. Was the Baron's cold bed still banned to me?

He sighed heavily before Kent spoke up to rescue him from an awkward silence. "I have an apartment nearby but we must go now and be quick." He glanced back to Isaac who nodded solemnly. "Goodbye," he murmured.

"Until this evening," Isaac retorted calmly.

Ash left first without a word, hurrying out as fast as he could without drawing unnecessary attention to himself. Kent looked to me to leave next and so I did with a purposely angry final stare Isaac's way. Once outside we found the sky a worrying shade of pink and lilac and Kent was brisk in leading the way to his apartment. It was not far, though my limping made it seem much farther and caused Kent to give me several glowers, a grunt of impatience and then a pointed stare at the sky. Still he did not offer to assist me and shuddered once when he saw my eye leaking again.

The apartment was in the same block as an infamous model who had some interesting fetishes, a semi-successful script writer, and an aspiring B actress who got her breasts out for several low budgeted horror films. Kent gave a sigh of relief when we made it through his door and into safety. "Look er..." He looked to me awkwardly, his grey gaze lingering too long on my furred hand. "There's only one bed," he confessed.

"The couch may grant me a sweet sleep providing there are no peas," I assured him, too tired to protest or argue. Kent had saved me, Kent had seen his cruel Prince for me, Kent has risked death, I had to be kind, couldn't bear a grudge, though his vain disgust was most unfair.

"Well...That's not what I was going to say," he lied, "but...well it's king sized, so maybe if we...keep our space, it'll be alright."

"You always poke and prod when we are close," I scolded, "for a non-painful slumber you shall have your space." I grinned happily; Kent would not shun me like Isaac, Kent would have me near so long as we were without contact. Well chaste we would be, as innocent as Snow and her seven miniature men.

"Right, good," Kent muttered, "come on then." He led the way through his tasteful living room, naturally large and spacious, decorated with a bookshelf and glass holding globe to impress, as well as glowing tank of fishes, paintings of what was deemed modern art though I found it a rather pointless mixture of shapes and colours, and the finest furniture. The bedroom was plainer; there was a wardrobe of deep reddish-brown and a large, wide bed with a duvet, a soft cover of tarnished gold, six cushions and four pillows, all a deep red or gold in colour. Kent lay down on the right side, close to the edge but still sprawled out and I obediently took the other side, curling into myself and trying to grant the Toreador as much space as I could. I could feel his unease and wondered if he felt my sorrow just as easily, I wanted Isaac's cold, comforting arms or even Romero's tough embrace.