Chapter 4: The Passion Play
1. Flames of Desire
Vince slowed his bike outside the neon-bathed entrance of the Santa Monica club. Throbbing music and raucous laughter spilled into the night through its open doors. Vince steeled himself and headed inside.
He passed through the crowd with dangerous purpose, his instincts on full alert. Contact with the club's eccentric owner tonight was a necessity, not a pleasure. Jeanette's connections continued providing Vince with much needed intel on the city's vampire drug traffickers. But her attempted seduction during their last meeting was dangerously distracting from the hunt. Vince had to walk that line carefully between business ally and temptation.
At the bar, he flagged down a skittish attendant. "Tell Ms Voerman I'm here. She's expecting me."
On stage nearby, a dancer in lingerie performed enticingly for drunken patrons. Vince kept his focus cold and sharp, filtering out the carnal distractions surrounding him. A brush on his arm made him turn.
Jeanette greeted him with a dazzling smile, wrapped in a skintight red dress. "Vince darling, so good of you to come by. Can I get you a drink?"
Vince waved it off. "I'm not here to socialize. You said your twin had a promising lead? Where is she?"
Jeanette pouted. "All work and no play, how droll. At least come upstairs where we can talk in private. Therese is busy again with politics, so it is my pleasure tonight."
Before he could object she took his arm, leading Vince through a staff door and up a winding stairwell. Her suite was lavishly decorated with plush red velvet, a canopied bed and fine art. Vince stood uneasily amidst the opulence as Jeanette poured herself wine the color of blood.
"Make yourself comfortable, I insist," she purred, reclining on the bed.
Vince remained standing. "The lead, Jeanette. I won't be bought with niceties or seduction. You hired me to stop these drugs and their spread."
Jeanette's eyes flashed with amusement. "So stoic! I don't know whether to kiss you or slap you." She smiled hungrily. "Perhaps both..."
"Enough games," Vince cut her off. "You promised information. Let's keep this professional."
Jeanette sighed dramatically. "Very well, back to business it is. You're no fun at all, little wolf." She sipped her wine. "I have a promising tip about increased activity down at the harbor warehouses. A possible distribution hub."
Vince nodded, turning this over. "Any specifics on location?"
"Not yet, but the girls are asking around." She smiled. "Does this satisfy you, or would you care to interrogate me more thoroughly?"
Vince ignored the provocation. "Appreciated. Contact me as soon as you have details. And Jeanette - don't make promises you don't intend to keep."
He turned for the door, eager to exit this compromising scene. Behind him Jeanette's voice turned icy.
"Rumors circle of a new woman in your life, Vince. But take care - fire burns those who get too close."
Vince hesitated, then continued on without looking back. "And sometimes rumors are just that... rumors." Jeanette's connections were vital, but he refused to become a pawn in her twisted games. Once the supplier was found, Vince could cut ties with her for good.
Until then, he would keep his distance - physically and emotionally. Her world held only ruin for those drawn in by Jeanette's allure. Vince's path led away from temptations of the flesh. Love would guide not lead him astray again.
2. The Forbidden Dance
Only one night later Vince leaned against the shadowed wall, observing the gyrating crowd on the dance floor. He was unwillingly back at Jeanette's club per her urgent request. She had new intel to share, though her motives were suspect as always. He had to hear her out, but refused to let down his guard.
Jeanette's message had provided the password for entry tonight - "Absolution". Fitting for their complicated association. Vince's role often required certain moral compromises for the greater good. But he studied his soul's ledger closely. Some stains could never be removed.
A nearby couple's public blood-drinking shook Vince from his reflections. Their reckless indulgence was precisely what had plunged so many into drug addiction and mania lately. Vince turned away, it wasn't his job to police them tonight.
He caught sight of platinum blonde curls on the dance floor, swaying enticingly between thrilled partners. Vince watched Jeanette gyrate beneath the lurid lights, instincts warning him away even as she beckoned him with a crooked smile. Her dancing held worlds of unspoken temptation, and lustful nights.
Vince checked his desire firmly. She was his client and source, nothing more. Toying with her unstable temper was dangerous, despite her gracious facade. Jeanette's true depths were icy and treacherous, dragging all down who dove carelessly into them. Vince knew the deadly consequences that came with giving into baser passions. Never again.
The dance ended, leaving Jeanette flushed and glowing in its wake. She floated towards him, perspiration dewing her pale skin. Vince kept his face impassive despite her provocative appearance.
"Enjoying the show?" Jeanette purred, sidling closer. Vince stood firm against her attempted entwining.
"You mentioned new information," he said brusquely.
Jeanette rolled her eyes. "So impolite! At least allow a lady one dance before interrogating her." She tugged insistently at his arm. "Come, before I change my mind."
Vince resisted a moment more, then reluctantly allowed himself to be led towards the dancers. He felt dangerously exposed under the pulsing lights as Jeanette pulled his body against hers.
"There now, just move with me," she murmured in his ear. "Feel the music's rhythm... It isn't that bad now, is it?"
Vince reluctantly swayed with her, hyperaware of each point their bodies met and parted. Her subtle sensuality mixed with his raw hunger into a volatile cocktail, as dangerous as any drug. Vince clung to the lifeline of duty that drew him here, refusing to drown in desire's undertow. Sometimes it was hard to be Gangrel. Being so close to the beast at all times.
Jeanette needled him with questions about his investigation between whispered provocations. Vince gave little away beyond what was already known, trying to steer the dance back to business. But his restraint was growing strained.
The song seemed to last an eternity before its final crashing note. Vince gratefully withdrew the moment it ended, fishing a business card from his coat and pressing it into Jeanette's hand.
"Call me once the intel is complete."
Jeanette's eyes narrowed, but she accepted the card with a gracious bow. "Until next time then. Don't be a stranger, Vince."
Vince was already moving towards the exit, putting distance between them. He was relieved to again be alone in the quiet streets, with his tattered honor intact. But agitation lingered in his mind like the ghost of her touch. He could not afford distraction or compromise with so much at stake.
Vince took a deep breath, the night air cold enough to clear his head. This city's decadence concealed foes and enigmas whose danger went beyond the physical. Restraint and focus would guide him. Vince knew that once this job was done, he would need some time away from the city to run with the beast.
3. Temptation's Edge
The next night Vince slowly regained consciousness to the musty dark of his basement haven. Night's sheltering embrace soothed his restless mind. Here he was safe from complications beyond these barricaded walls.
But with awakening came that ceaseless hollow craving inside - the thirst was never satisfied for long. Vince focused within, leashing his darkest impulses behind sheer discipline. Control was what separated the civilized kindred from the monsters. He would walk that narrow line, neither denying nor indulging the gnawing need.
Once prepared, Vince ascended to street level, savoring the calm before the hunt resumed. Tonight he would press sources for leads on the drug pipeline at the harbor that had Jeanette mentioned. But contacting her directly was dangerous while her attempted seduction remained fresh and raw. Better to keep communication indirect for now.
Vince swung a leg over his motorcycle, his system flooding with predatory momentum as the engine roared to life beneath him. This was his true shelter, the road his only home. The simplicity of his purpose steadied him for the struggles ahead.
But as he merged onto the empty downtown streets, his thoughts drifted back to the charged dance at her club. Vince gritted his teeth against the tempest of unwanted emotion. Desire was a liability he could not afford when enemies were watching from every shadow.
Still, loneliness wore like an old injury beneath his stoic facade. Isolation had long seemed his destined burden. But Jeanette's forbidden allure conjured treacherous hope.
Vince sped onward, fleeing his own racing mind. The city's lights and sordid commerce engulfed him fully in the present. He had to stay vigilant - many more would suffer if this drug's spread continued unchecked. His needs were unimportant next to the existence of the kindred.
He arrived at a seedy dive bar on the outskirts of Hollywood, well known for underworld dealings. Inside, the tang of spilled beer and blood permeated the grimy rooms. Vince descended to the basement, senses alert for threats. In a corner booth sat his disreputable contact, Sax, reeking of vices ancient and modern.
Vince slid into the booth opposite to Sax. "Talk. What's the latest news on the streets?"
Sax leered, clearly amused at Vince's brusqueness. "Rumor says you've gone sweet on that Voerman chick. Never figured you for a femme fatale type. But hey, I don't judge."
Vince stared hard, unamused. "The drugs. Any new distribution hubs?"
Sax shrugged, relenting. "Cool your jets, I was just having fun. Word is new shipments have been moving through a textile warehouse downtown. Industrial district." He grinned. "Now can we talk more about your new lady friend?"
Vince was already standing. "We're done here." He dropped a wad of bills on the table.
The lead rang true and matched Jeanette's intel, as the downtown warehouse was connected to the warehouse at the harbour. It was time to investigate this warehouse more closely. Vince strode out, thoughts focused now on reconnaissance and tactical approach. This intel revived his sense of purpose. And kept the temptations of the flesh in check, no matter how alluring.
Clarity of action dissolved ambiguity. Tonight, he was the hunter once more, free of doubts and desires that would only weaken him. That liberating purity of the mission was what Vince needed right now.
4. Professional Boundaries
Later that night Vince was once again meeting Jeanette to keep her up to date and collect the rest of her intel. He knew it was stupid idea, and that he could have sent her an email or called her.
Instead Vince sat in her office with his rolled up sleeves, baring the corded muscles of his forearm. Jeanette traced a perfectly manicured fingernail up the prominent vein, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"My my, so delightfully... vascular," she purred. "Are you quite sure you won't indulge me?"
Vince gently pulled his arm back. "My vitae is my own. But I appreciate the offer."
Jeanette reclined back on the divan with a petulant expression of disgust. "You're no fun at all!" Her changeable eyes glittered with malice. "Has your new plaything already drained you dry?"
Vince ignored the barbs. "We have business to discuss."
The atmosphere in the opulent office was thick with temptation, from the ornate furnishings to his hostess's wardrobe of diamond-patterned silk. Vince refused to be swayed. He needed Jeanette's information too much to indulge her unstable moods now.
Jeanette idly examined her immaculate nails. "I'm not some dog to come when called. You want my help, we play by my rules."
"Within reason," Vince countered. "Our relationship must remain professional for both our sakes."
Jeanette sat up abruptly. "Rules, always more rules! Don't you ever tire of your stoicism?" She leaned close, voice dropping. "Life is short, even for us. Take pleasures where you find them."
Her hand traced Vince's chest suggestively before he grasped it. Jeanette's eyes flashed at the restraint. She twisted free and rose to refill her wine glass, an angry set to her shoulders.
Vince stood as well. "I apologize for the misunderstanding. I mean no offense, but you hired me to do a job. And it wasn't to be your toy."
Jeanette didn't turn, staring out the window into the rain-filled night. "Of course. You're devoted to your precious hunt." Her voice turned icy. "So be on it then."
"The intel you promised-?" Vince began carefully.
Jeanette whirled on him. "What does it matter now? You have more than enough, so be gone. My club demands attention if you will not."
She emptied her glass in one long drink, blood-hued rivulets streaking her chin. Vince weighed his next words cautiously. Her temper was unpredictable at the best of times.
"Please, Jeanette. Too many will suffer if I don't end this plague of drugs swiftly. I need your help. You asked for my help." He softened his tone. "I ask as a friend, not a rival."
Jeanette glanced back, anger fading. She sighed and rose to retrieve a folder from her desk, holding it out towards Vince. "Here. Everything I've gathered so far."
Vince accepted with quiet thanks. Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. Jeanette turned away.
"Now go. Be the dashing hero elsewhere tonight. I'm weary of this dance."
Vince bowed and took his leave. The night's chill air was bracing after the den of decadence and temptation. Away from her alluring presence, his job and purpose gave him strength once more.
This was for the best. Entanglement went against Vince's solitary nature. He worked alone, unbound by intimate loyalty. He might be a pack animal as a part of Clan Gangrel, but for the last 200 years he had kept to himself.
Vince unlocked his bike with the clarity of thought that he needed. The dossier in hand, promising progress in this shadow war. He had a role to play, and could not turn aside.
Not even for the most alluring of diversions.
5. A Cold Goodnight
The following night Vince slowed his motorcycle outside Jeanette's neon-bathed club. He steeled himself and headed inside, senses alert. Jeanette's tip about a local drug hub had panned out, yielding more valuable intel. Now he had to update her on the bust, however dangerous her erratic temper proved.
The thudding music and raucous laughter enveloping him, setting Vince's nerves on edge. He moved with quiet purpose through the crowd, their intoxication and pheromones an assault on his predatory senses. Cold control and logic must rule this actions, not hunger.
At the bar, he inquired discreetly about Jeanette's whereabouts. The nervous tender indicated her usual upstairs haunt. Vince ascended the plush-carpeted steps warily. Her ornate office stood empty, but he heard her raised voice from the adjacent bedroom. Vince knocked firmly.
"Leave me be!" Jeanette shouted petulantly. Vince ignored the warning and entered.
Jeanette reclined before her vanity in a satin negligee, viciously yanking a brush through her snarled curls. Her eyes flashed in the mirror at Vince's intrusion.
"How dare you enter without permission!" She hurled her hairbrush, dodged easily by Vince. "Have you no manners?"
Vince stood his ground. "Sorry, but news can't wait. The drug hub you pinpointed was raided successfully tonight. Several key traffickers captured. Your intel was solid."
Jeanette glared scornfully. "So the heroic detective triumphs again, yes? Bravo on your latest victory." She turned away dismissively.
Vince hesitated at her flippant response. "This is an important break in the case. But many leads remain. I still need your connections across the city."
Jeanette laughed bitterly. "Oh little wolf, when will you learn? I care nothing for your hunt. It was amusing and Therese needed it done." She met his eyes in the mirror with sudden lucidity. "We all play our roles. Yours is inglorious martyr. Mine, Wine and pleasure while Rome burns."
She rose and approached until they were only inches apart. "If you insist on chasing your white whale, so be it. But without me." Jeanette placed a palm on his chest. "I release you from my employment."
Vince covered her delicate hand with his own calloused one. "I cannot pretend to understand your shifting moods and motivations. But I appreciate all you've shared these nights." He stepped back decisively. "This is goodbye then."
Jeanette searched his face with an inscrutable expression. "Ever the stoic. Go then, and may fortune follow." She turned away.
Vince departed without looking back. The cold night air was bracing after the club's claustrophobic heat. Whatever her mysteries, Jeanette was a complication best shed.
He kicked his motorcycle to snarling life, speeding off into the neon cityscape. This parting had been inevitable, once boundaries grew blurred. Only separation could bring back clarity and focus.