Chapter 8

WILLY'S BAR, SUNNYDALE

MICK ST. JOHN'S P.O.V.

"The Slayer!" exclaimed Willy: "Thank God!"

The blonde girl smiled: "Never thought I'd hear you say something like that, Willy. Especially in a place like this."

I almost couldn't believe my ears. This petite little thing was the Slayer? Then, again; I'm the last one who should judge by appearances. Most people wouldn't believe that I'm technically an octagenarian!

The Shrikes looked at their leader, who looked at the girl.

"We're here on Gangrel business, Slayer. Stay out of it, and we'll be on our way, in short order."

"They're here looking for your boyfriend, Angel!" I blurted out: "He's in a jam, and they don't want anybody helping him."

"Kill him, a lot!" shouted the leader.

Most of them turned right away, to carry out that order. By that point, though, I had already hopped over the bar and grabbed up several bottles of booze. These, I tossed like German World War II "potato-masher" grenades. And, each one landed on target. Cracking and breaking apart on contact with each Shrike's helmet!

That's when I ignited a road-safety flare from the trunk of my car, and used it to set off a Roman candle.

The fireballs that began spewing from the latter ignited the Shrikes I'd doused like dried kindling. The ones I hadn't? Well, let's just say they were too busy learning the hard way not to judge a pony-tailed book by its (admittedly attractive) cover.

MEANWHILE, UP IN SAN FRANCISCO...

The six of them gathered at the long conference table.

At the head of the table sat Julian Luna of the Ventrue Clan. Dark-haired, well-dressed Prince of the City. While to his left, sat the beautiful Lily Langtry; the red-haired, blue-eyed primogen of the local Toreador Clan. And, sitting next to her was Cash; primogen of the local Gangrel Clan.

Seated across from him was Cameron; primogen of the local Brujah since the Final Death of Eddie Fiori, six years earlier. To his left, sat Daedalus; the tall, and often-unnervingly silent, primogen of Clan Nosferatu. And, to Luna's immediate right sat Nicholas DeBrabant; primogen of the Ventrue Clan since the Final Death of Luna's sire, Archon Raine, also six years earlier.

DeBrabant's appointment had been controversial, to say the least. He had been Embraced by the current Prince of Toronto sometime in the 13th-century. And, he had spent a good portion of the preceding decade as a police officer up in that Canadian city! Emigrating to San Francisco only during the last four years.

Yet, there had been no one else among the local Ventrue even half as qualified as Archon had been. Nor could Julian fill the vacancy, himself, as the Kindred Prince of any city had to be seen as officially neutral in all his decision-making. So, after two years of near-chaos, Nick's sudden arrival had been viewed by Julian and the rest of his Conclave as a blessing in disguise.

"Thank you all for coming, on such short notice. I have been told by Lee Pow IV, leader of the Scarfoot Tong, that an anarch named Angel wishes an audience with me. I have learned, from Daedalus, something very interesting about him. Daedalus?"

The Nosferatu primogen rose to his feet.

"Angel was originally called 'Angelus; The Scourge of Europe.' And, two years ago, he turned against his grandsire; the antitribu Nosferatu called the Master. More recently, he brought about the unsanctioned Final Death of Russell Winters. The Ventrue pimogen of Los Angeles. This has resulted in Prince Cyrus declaring a bloodhunt against him. Which means this Angel is most likely seeking political asylum for himself and his two companions."

"Then, it's automatically out of the question," declared Cameron, as Daedalus resumed his seat: "Doing so is an open invitation to war with Cyrus!"

"Never thought I'd hear myself say this," added Lily. "But, I agree with the Brujah. A war with L.A. will do none of us any good."

"Well, I say, give him a chance to be heard," replied Cash: "Maybe there were extenuating circumstances! There always are, where Cyrus and his ilk are concerned."

"Ilk?" echoed Cameron, with a smug half-grin: "Have you been chewing on dictionaries again, you bad dog?"

Cash growled in his throat. But, Nick was quick to stave off any physical violence by raising his right hand.

"Cash is right. I say let him be heard."

Luna looked at the Nosferatu primogen: "Daedalus?"

The latter turned to his right. It was now his turn to smugly grin.

"Let the anarch present his case."

Luna nodded and agreed. He then took out a cellphone and hit the "speed-dial" button for Detective Sonny Toussaint of the SFPD.

"Sonny? It's a 'yes.' Have Lee relay the message."

tbc