Chapter 1--The Homecoming

Paris, France 2004

Hotel Elavanta, 8:21 pm

The night was like any other. The soft currents of the breeze swept into the room to tease the shadows against the wall as the sheer curtains lapped lazily in protest. Eyes blacker than the satin decor stared endlessly out the open doors, past the irreverence of the clouds gathering beneath the low hanging silver orb of persuasion. His thoughts just as fleeing as the scattering stars that were painted like a diamond snake in the black sky. He was troubled tonight, and even the blood doll that lay tangled in the sheets next to him couldn't tame his mind. He was tired, and the road had been a long flight for him over the past several years. Sometimes the death he delivered was sating to the fire in his soul, other times it turned the very core of his existence to distrainment. Going home would be a good change, he was in need of holiday..but under the circumstances, it seemed as if he had no choice. Still..he would go.

The faithful son that he was would return to his home soil, and to his beloved family. It was what awaited him that troubled him so. He had a million questions as to why his father chose now to tuck himself away into that suspended sleep known to kindred as Tupor. But, he knew that it was the only way that they have survived this world. The only way to insure their species survived the course of time. He chuckled lightly then as he turned and slipped from the young vixen's grasp around him. Leaving her to sleep off the dizziness of his insatiable lust for both her body and blood, finding it harder and harder not to drain her dry in the throes of passion..or in his case, blood lust. He no longer took in pets..and swore under his breath not to entice such as this tender flower ever again. He feared he was growing soft of heart, that is if he still had one.

Blade was a most peculiar creature of the night, and his thinking was indeed random and scattered most of the time, but alas, that is what made him who he was. But, the unpredictable had became the ho hum of his ways, and sadly even his membership within the Black Hand was losing it's appeal. Indeed, he was bored. As he leaned down to retrieve his pants, he shook off the uneventful evening then moved on over to the desk where he had left the ancient parchment. His father was of the old world, and his little trivial sentiments of scolls sealed in wax that bore the family crest was kind of refreashing to a new age vampire such as himself. Reading over the perfect calligraphy once more brought on another faded smile before he rolled it back up and deposited it into the gold foil. Yes, indeed, at long last...the prodigal son would return home. "Romaina, my sweet homeland, Beware..."

A deep inhale as Laurellei would take her first deep breath,sour and thick it seemed,she had been born.Those silver hues would blink open and she laid limp peering up at her creator,her master,and the one she would obey and desire for the rest of her exsitence... Master Blade. She would protect him until her death, long radiant claws would protrude from her knuckles,a single swipe of hand and it would be done,sharp as razor blades, blood of the fools that dare hurt her master would trickle quickly after a single blow. Rising to her feet she would stand before her master,sheer white lace would engolf tightly to her entire body. Long sun kissed curls would flow to her waste,as she stood next to him now and for an eternity.

It seemed she had fell into a daze, her eyes fluttered open as she would awake from her dream of becoming,sitting quietly outside the masters window watching for any approachers,taking a moment to watch him from outside.She would see him placing the scroll away and sigh as the desire continued to grow within her,her hues would move to the bed at the blood shed that she had missed. Disappointed with herself she would grumble loudly and return her gaze to the gates, slumping her perfectly shaped body.

His attentiveness of his pet didn't go unnoticed. A frightful creature she had become over the course of their lifetime together. Her wants an insatiable thirst with the siring of the demonic species. Still, Laurel would protect, even at times like these when Blade felt alone and disassociated with who he really was. Soon they would be upon their birth soil, and soon all would be forgotten of the coldness and this road that he was on.

The sound of the ringing was what drew his attention from sleep. Just past sundown, the first biding of his awakening cut short by the annoying persistence of the telephone. He stumbled to his feet and moved over, swiping the ringing instrument into his grasp as he leaned in against the dresser for balance. A rough hand rose to swipe at the unruly, dark mass of his hair as strands were flipped from his eyes. His voice gravel laden, the sleepiness in his tone still lingering as he spoke.

 

"Yes..? Yes. ...Tonight...? " The ultra high pitch of the woman on the other end annoyed his delicate ears as the phone was readjusted, falling into the nook of his neck and shoulder, He rubbed his hand further along his chin and across the stubble of his jawline and breathed a sigh. "I see, well if it cannot wait, then I am in position. Paris, yes. The airport. My flight is due out at 1 am, that should give me sufficient time to make it."

Again, the high pitched voice clawed at his nerves as if fingers were bring drug along the chalk board. He collected himself enough to stand by then, his mind already plotting out his evening with the change of events as free hand fumbled for a cigarette on the dressertop. Sometimes he loathed being just a call away, but alas, such was the way of life for his sect; for what he was. Death would arrive as scheduled this evening, with a side order of anger for altering his plans. "No, I have Laurel with me, that should be quite enough to surfiest... You worry too much, Emerald. Yes..yes, you too...chao..."

 

With a slam of the reciever he sighed again, then stood to scan about the silent bedroom. From somewhere in the suite, the sound of the fax machine begin to bleep with incoming data. He turned then and threw open the doors to his closet, rummaging about for his leather armor. The last thing he wanted was to be out mixing it up at the airport with some dirty Camarilla fiends. Like he had a choice. He'd mull and chew over the fact he was given a last minute assignment, but in the end, he would carry it out just as he always had. As the door cracked on open, the shadowy figure of his servant crept into the doorway, awaiting his orders for the night. Without looking, Blade felt his presence as he continued to dig around for his suit.

"Change of plans, Knox. I've a mark tonight. Have my bags packed and sent on to the airport, I'll arrive before the flight takes off. If not, I'll simply be alittle later than I intended.."  He spun on his heels to toss the weathered black leather garments upon the bed, then paused as he gave the Tzi fiend a passing glance. With an exhaled plume of smoke, he stepped on around the bed, heading to the shower. The acknowledgment of the fiend was his usual silence and a simple head nod to the master's orders.

She would hear the ring of the telephone and sit to a halt, listening queitly to her masters words. After the conversation ended and he climbed from his slumber, swiftly and silently she would creep in through the window making sure not to startle him, she would watch him closely, her eyes followed him to his bathroom she would then sit upon his bed facing the bathroom door awaiting his finish. With a long sigh she would bite her lip, so badly she would wish to join him, but that would not be exceptable for she was a pet and a protector not a lover, she would lie back on the bed, taking in a few deep breaths of his scent, her eyes would fall quickly closed as that strange mind would fill of thoughts that would never be.

Still quite annoyed with the last minute change of plans, he hurried through his bathing ritual. The steam of the room escaping as he tugged the door open and stepped out. Towel draping loosely around his waist as another was briskly rubbed against wet locks. He sensed her before dark eyes set sights upon the silent beauty. A crack of a smile gave way to his soft words as he watched her at play. " Dark Eve, my pet...enjoying the night, are you? "  He tossed the wet towel away from his head and stood in his steps, letting dark eyes shift over her. Another smile offered down to her as one hand beckoned to her. "Come, we have a lot to accomplish this eve.."  He could sense her boredom, knowing that once the dirty deed was taken care of, both could share equal leisure time together at the estate.

Startled she would jump quickly to her feet and lower her eyes to the ground,truely embarrassed by what she was doing, hoped he hadn't seen much and she would slide her hands respectfully behind her back.  "I'm sorry M'Lord, I didnt expect you to be out so soon. So what are the plans for this evening? Bloodshed I hope "  Those silver eyes would sparkle unnoticed, did the master even realize what he had created, she would hope so.

He offered her a grin as he watched her eyes hold within them the true spirit of the Tzi blood. A light nod of his head was issued as he went on to offer a gentle touch of his fingers to her face. Drawing each down against the porclian features to gather a few strands of gold, tucking then lightly back behind her ear.  " Indeed so, but we must be stealthy in our slaughter. For the Setites must not know of our presence. Snakes they are..I shant have harm come to my precious.."

A smirk would form upon that pretty face, as much for his touch as for the blood letting that would happen not long from now. That sweet face, that sweet touch is what kept her there,without him she would be nothing. She would wait calmly for his embrace that may never come, then the blood came to her mind again,oh how good it would feel to have blood on her hands it had bee awhile and she was anticipating it very much, shivers rocked her body and she would only look at him and smile. "Mmm....I cant wait M'Lord."

He could only marvel in his creation. Leaning over, a kiss was placed to her forehead then he patted her cheeks gently.  "Excellent. I've your leathers lain out..get to it.."  With this in mind, he turned and went to the task of suiting himself as well. The armor they wore was fused with a thinly woven mesh of pliable steel coils..light and giving to all sorts of combative moves, but yet strong enough to prevent bullet, or claws from penetrating into their flesh. Just one of the many wonders that Wolfbane Laboratories were responsible for. His mind turned to the objective of the eve as he carefully dressed. After that task was done, he went to work checking over his weapons. He frowned on the use of new age things such as pistols and machinegun quality firepower, but in this case, the death was to be swift.

She would nod and turn, sliding that sheer material from her skin, it fell quickly to the floor, being nude didnt not bother her, she was practically nude all the time. She would bend over and slide those armored pants on quickly, a quick zip and button and on to the armored shirt quickly it slipped over that beautiful blonde hair and she would then turn to her master.  "Im ready to go..."  With in a single breath those silver claws would protrude from her knuckles and she would giggle quietly to herself.

He turned to watch her, the extended talons of her hands making their presence known in perfect unison to that giggle. "Your enjoying yourself too much.."  He smiled to her once again and leaned over to pick up his duffle bag, stowing away the last of his things before those duel Colt's were slid into the shoulder holsters under his trench.  " I'm afraid we'll have to walk most of the way. But, that will give us one long and languid moment to enjoy the last of our stay here. "

 

In retrospect, he hated Paris, hated the filth that littered the streets. He dared to venture out to feed most nights, trouble always seemed to come in packs here. He moved to the door and tugged it open, an arm rising out to beckon her on through before he would silently follow. The tight leather suit giving a crackle here and there in protest to the motions.

She would smirk and nod.  "I enjoy it very much... tis why you made me this way."  With a quick silence she was next to him, those claws would return to their places and that arm would wrap around his.  "Do I really have to wear all this stuff?"

"...Tonight you do. Think of it as a special treat... "  He frowned with his bad choice in words, then laughed lightly at his attempt to sugar-coat the fact of what she truely is.  "Ok, scratch that. I'm sure you are quite capible of handling youself, but as I said before, these aren't your average vamp on the street. Their blood is almost as ancient as our blood. Besides.."  He said noncalantly as they moved from the elevator to the ground floor, then along the garage area to where the streets would open up to them.  "Their blood contains a certain acid that will mar the flesh..and it's irreversible..not even I would be able to heal them with the craft. "  Dark eyes were almost illuminated to a cold blackness under the night, shifting about as they moved on towards the terminals. Other than a few lone couples, the evening showed nothing much in the way of activity.

Pouts slightly and gives a fake sniffle.  "But master I wanted to feel their blood on my hands, its been to long."  Those silver hues peered about as she took in deep breaths from the surroundings, the moisture in the air would tickle her nose but she could only smile, she loved this time with her master. Cautiously she would lie her head on his shoulder, eyes and ears still perked to every noise.  "I cant wait to get home."

All his senses went on alert as they moved closer still to their destination. "Neither can I, Precious. This homecoming is long overdue. Remind me next time we're out on the road not to dilly dally about like this..for so long, I mean."  Eyes shifted down a moment to look to her, a lift of his brow then he stopped. He thought about what she said about the blood, but he could not risk either of them getting burnt by the acid. He'd think up something to make up for the missed play time here..if only..shifting backwards, their lean silhouettes merged into the shadows as the flicker of headlights became noticeable. They turned up the street as the car inched closer to where they stood. Their guests had arrived. Silently they would watch.

Deep breaths would be taken as she was pulled into the shadows,she would watch closely as her arms would slide behind her back and silently those claws would be protruding once more. She would stand before her master,she was his protector of course, almost instantly that grim smirk would appear on her face.

With a single lift of his finger, he summonsed her. The blood within him calling out and withering his voice into her mind..he needed her and her talons to peel open the auto's roof, that's where he would attack. Knowing she was quite capable of that kind of destruction, in a breath he was gone, disappearing into the tendrils of shadows that were now snaking in and around the small gap in the alleyway. Whether or not their presence had been detected, the ambush would commence. He could feel the rush of the blood, like a primal animal in the thick of the hunt..the prey's scent already washing it's musky odor of ancient death upon his senses..he breathed in the night as he patiently awaited his opening.

With his stern voice in her mind she would quickly take off toward the car, running swiftly up the hood of the car she would slam those talons quickly into the roof of the car in two quick motions it had been cut and she grabbed one end and pulled it down over the windshield,hands cut and dripping she did a quick back flip onto the ground infront of the car.

 He watched hoovering from above, and as soon as the rooftop was cut away, he descended. The harbinger of death simply dropped into the awaiting lap of corruption, the occupants of no use to him tossed upward and out of his way ... two Setites ghouls came out for the taking, the first offering to his pet for her rewards...his mind connecting with her..allowing her the full slaughter she was anxiously awaiting while the coil of the serpent begun to transform before the Deathdealer's eyes. Many times had the old passages spoke of this blood discipline, now witnessing it first hand, it enraged his blood even more..acid or not..he would drink, and feast on his victory.

She smiled as one would fall face first quickly and savagely he was dead before he could even get up,that oh so angelic being behind she sat on his back,lifted his head and sliced quickly threw his throat,quickly he was flipped over and she would jam those claws deep into his eye sockets, by now the other had reached her,grabbing her from behind he would throw her to a nearby brick wall. Her back flying into the wall she would fall to the ground,he was coming toward her again,she lay as it appears helplessly upon his arrival a quick claw would pierce his stomache with a single flood motion up it went to his chest before the other claw swung around slashing his face, a quick kick and he would fall from those blades. A quick glance for others, none of which she could sense nearby , no she would play again a quick slash of the throat and a few claws to his eyes she would carve an 'L' in his forehead not for loser but for Laurel. Up to her feet as she would wait for her masters call.

The serpent came swiftly, the coil of death finding the lean torso of the Tzi, but he was yet to be done in by a simple trick of the mind and a meaty hand that produced a slender sia to impale repeatedly into his armor. It began to rip and give under the lashings..the scorpion's sting nipping away at tender flesh..fangs grew from the Deathdealer's mouth, the growls and snarls going unnoticed under the hissing of the gold slithering snake. Claws of his own darted out from fingers, and what once was the belly of the snake became rolling mush and black blood as it flooded the interior of the car. Teeth bared and set in to take their first sweet bite of death found pulpy flesh just under it's teetering diamond shaped head..the rush of time and sand became apparent in the Tzi's mind as he began to drain the Setites of his lifeforce..the sour taste of the blood thick and the smell coppery. One last flicker of that stinger caught the Tzi up under his ribs as he was impaled up and out of the car..but Blade brought the Setites along for the ride and as they fell to the concrete the thing that once resembled a snake was drained of all his vitae. Blade let go then and rolled away to stand. The piercing scream broke the night's breeze as golden scales of the snake were quickly fading to dust, and then to nothing.

Quickly she would run to her master,standing before him she only watched him,those claws would return to their place,her hands still freshly cut from the metal of the car,they would be placed behind her back for she was ashamed of even a scratch caused by herself,her cold eyes looked to her master angrily as she had seen him drain the Setites,she was hurt,and worried,she was nothing without him and she would speak loudly.  "Are you crazy!!"  What the hell was she thinking speaking to him like that,she would drop to her knees. "Forgive me for my rudeness M'Lord, I just care for you more then you will ever know."

He teetered in his stance, a lift of one brow then to her words..then without as much as a sternness to his features, he simply smiled down to her. "Yes, Precious, I am..."  Then, turning his head, he examined the remains of the slaughter that his pet had left. Proud of her work, he let one arm go to her shoulder as he lifted a thoughtful brow. He was undoubtedly going to be sick soon. He could already feel the taint of poison flowing through his veins, but as he warned her, he didn't heed his own words, and would suffer for it soon enough. As she fell to her knee, he touched to her head with the back of his hand.  "There's no harm in worrying, Love. Now get up and let me take a look at your injuries.."  Yes, he knew, even though she tired to hide them, he smelt her blood thick in the air.

She would nod and rise showing him the inside of her hands,palms up,eyes down shameful for being so careless. "They are fine M'Lord just scratches."  Through her voice the lie could not be hidden. Scratches, she wished,t hey were deep and dripping.  "Do not worry of me we need to get you to the station before you are to weak."

He gave her a knowing look from the corner of his eye as he inspected the cuts to her palms. Any other time, he would allow her to drink from him to heal herself, but not right at that moment, he wasn't entirely sure what the Setites' blood was harboring. He lifted a finger to silence her.  "In a few hours I'll be throwing up more blood and ...Snake " ...for the lack of a better word... "...shyt ...that you can possibly imagine..as for your injuries, we need to bind them..my duffle has clothing in them that might prove useful, but we must hurry, Pet or we'll be caught out in the sun come the morrow in midflight."  He shewed her towards where he dropped the bag to the alley..and then turned to give one last look to the auto, and to the dead ghouls.

Quickly with silent steps she would get the bag and return to his side, she knows, she will be by his side when he does infact become sick,and she his Pet will take care of him, if it takes every drop of blood in her body, she thought deeply as she stood beside him, 'He is too great for you and you are lucky to have such a caring master.' She would hand him the bag. "Here you go master."

Taking the bag, he knelt down and began to rummage through it, then taking strips of clean cloth, he began to wind them gently around first one sliced palm, and then the other. Those eyes dulling from the vibrant red back to their usual shine of brown "I'll need to improvise on your talons..maybe give you some brand new ones, some that will meet the need of things such as shredding autos.."  He smiled again as he finished and tied each off just as gently.  "There. You did well, tonight, Laurel. I wouldn't have succeeded without your help. "

She smiled and touched his face gently, she was very bold tonight, what had come over her, she would punish herself later once they returned home,she thought about it almost out loud and she would speak quietly...."Punish"...  She hadnt realized she said it out loud and smiled at her Master.  "We must get going now."

Though he had heard her soft whisper, it puzzled him, but he remianed silent, the ways of this creature was quite amazing to him, he was forever learning things about her..and many things were yet to come in knowing who she truely was.  "Yes pet..we'll go now."  He stood and collected the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, then slipping his other arm around her, he began to lead them off from the slaughtered scene and onward to the airport terminal...and would ultimately lead them home.

She would walk quickly by his side,as she was weary of their sourroundings,ears perked she would listen for others to approach her master,he was weak and could probably not fend for himself at this state,with a sigh she would look to him as she could see and feel his sickness growing. "Sir are you ok?"

"Yes, yes, Laurel, I am quite alright... "  A whispered conveyance offered to his kindling companion as he rushed her onward toward the airport. Their flight they would catch just in the nick of time. But, his condition was far from the truth. Oh, he was fine for the most part. The poison that his blood now contained highly toxic to the bite, and would prove to be both fatal and life threatening over time. How long, he did not know, or the effects were a mystery. Only those internal instincts told he something wasn't right. He would have to race between time and information to try to reverse the effects. A hard lesson learned at the hands of greed, he would most likely have to seek his father's expertise, and with that came the lectures and the scolding he was all too familiar with. He would deal with his father..and with this minor tainting, somehow. Right now, he just wanted to go home without any more hindrance.

 

 

Chapter 2--Along came a Spider...

 

Los Angeles, California, 2004

Bethany's Flat, 7:23 pm

Glowing green hues peered from the darkness as the second red dark flew through the air and stuck neatly in a black portion of cork. Maggie's music was posing as a distraction as usual, but this song... She could at least deal with a few of the lyrics. The final red dart followed, sticking right dead in the center of the board as the words flowed from brightly painted, red lips. "...You think you're precious... And I think you're shyt... And I'd kill your father to destroy his seed...." The slim figure emerged from the darkness with a light squeak of the latex that coated her form like second skin... A black long sleeved corset type top with red ribs and a neckline that showed enough milky flesh to catch just about anyone's attention... And black latex pants that slid under the corset giving it the one piece effect with knee high block platform boots. In other words, she was dressed to literately kill. "Ohhhh, nothing will ever destroy your greed..." She sneered as a slim hand snapped the darts from the board. The free hand reached up to tuck a few fiery tresses behind one ear, revealing those signature eyeliner runs... The same ones her Mother wore when she was still among the living. "Maggie my dearest... What is it you call this band again?" She said, turning to the young lady playing jacks in the corner.

And jacks flew everywhere as she heard the words of her Sire echo across the cabin. A twisted grin crossed those onyx lips as she looked up to Beth, collecting the straying pieces of her game at the same time. "The band is called Filter, why do you ask?"  She said, pushing herself off the plush crimson carpet, oh and was she a sight for sore eyes, clad in a black corset mini dress, complete with zippers everywhere. Garters with skull clips and polkadot knickers could be seen every so often... But it was those black and orange striped thigh highs, arm warmers and six-inch platform boots that made her Maggie the great. Orange marabou feathers flew everywhere as she stepped over to Beth, naturally towering over her in those damn boots. Heavily lined hues studied her Sire for a moment as that grin widened. "You like them don't you? I knew it, I knew it!"  She said, plopping down on the couch.

A nod was issued to her chydle as she moved back unto her resting place in the darkness. "Just curious... The tune seems catchy."  She paused for a moment to hurl another dart through the air. "Although, it isn't something I'd craft to."  She said as a smirk twisted and curled across those fiery lips. "You know my taste in music... The old-world composers such and Bach, Beethoven and Mozart."  Hues cut to Maggie for a moment before another dart whizzed through the air. "But I do keep forgetting, you are young and speaking of the old-world, some of the things you see and people you meet at this..."  She paused for a moment, trying to grasp the correct wording. "Whatever the hell you want to call it aren't like you. Their... Well..."  And at that point she shut up, not really knowing how to describe her family and their acquaintances. But knowing Maggie, she would think it was "cool" and adept quite well, the only problem is... How -would- her family foresee Maggie?

The rubber ball began to bounce one more as she listened to Beth. She was in for a treat no doubt, coming from the slums of LA, she was pretty much in hog heaven. Just to be in the presence of rich folks made her feel like one of them. "Well, it's ok I guess... I'm still eager to meet that brother of yours though. The way you talk about him, he's Satan himself."  She snickered lightly, scooping up a hand full of the colored metal pieces. "I guess twistedness runs in the Wolfbane family, no?"  She had seen enough of Beth's morbid sense first hand to know. And what bothered her the most was that she was Beth's chydle... She carried the tainted blood also. But it wouldn't be so bad once she got used to it. She was still young after all.

All she could do was laugh. Never in her life had she met someone to daring. "Eager to meet Vincent are you."  She paused, almost falling over laughing. "Excuse me, Blade... He don't like to be called Vincent."  She gave a light shrug, hurling the last dart at the board, then pushing her slim frame from the soft sofa. They were almost there, the presence of so many familiar drove her senses to insanity. "Well my dear, shall we get ready to depart the flying steel coffin?"  A black trench coat slid around her as she stepped towards the cockpit to check on their good pilot. She was as happy to be home as a bear with it's nose stuck in a bee hive.

"Hey Beth, what kind of car did ya say this was?"  Maggie asked, crawling around in the back seat. A gloved hand ran across the plush black leather as she sat for a moment, then scrambled back to the front passengers seat. Hues studied the large door panel, as she found what she was looking for... The window controls. "It's pretty neat... Think you could hook me up with something like it? I am your chylde after all..."  She said as she hung her head out the open window. A deep breath of cool, dank country air filled her lungs. She had never been to Transylvania... Hell, she'd never been over seas until she met Beth, just drab city life for Miss. Maggie.

Beth was the driver of course, didn't trust a soul with her new toy... But of course, it cost Daddy Dearest $325,000... A snicker was given to that thought as the deep black coat of paint shined a bloody wine color in the full moon light, a custom color of course. "Maggie my dear, this is a 2004 Rolls-Royce Phantom, customized of course..."  Hues darted to her Chylde then back to the road. "Watch out for that tree Maggs..." She said as a smirk crossed those cherry kissed lips. She knew Maggie meant well, but she was just plain nuts sometimes... And it still tickled her to death knowing that the poor kid was so eager to meet Blade. "My dear, I'm sure something can be arranged, you are part of the family."  She finished, turning off onto a winding mountain dirt road.

She quickly slid in as they passed an extremely close tree. She giggled lightly as the window rolled up, listening to what Beth had to say. "A Rolls-Royce huh? And a nice color at that... And a nice leather interior too..." She said, playing with all kinds of buttons. "So, if we're all one big family now... That means your Father is my grandfather... And Blade is my Uncle?"  She snickered, digging through the glove box, pulling out all kinds of stuff... Snagging the owners manual... And began to read out loud.

She shook her head at Maggie... The kid had too much spunk, but she was nice to have around. "I'm sure it works that way... I don't know how Blade will feel if you call him Uncle Blade... But we'll see."  She said, stifling a laugh. She knew exactly what he'd say and it would be funny as hell. They were all characters in some shape or form. She remembered when she was younger... How she'd run around in skin tight leather and terrorize people with blades and a harpoon... Well, not much has changed, she's just grown up too much. But now that she was home... It was another story. She didn't want to be there... She had a bad feeling about things... But as usual, no one would listen... Maybe, just maybe her Brother Dearest would...

The clicking of big boots echoed through the darkness. "Don't knock... Just go on in... Alright..."  She muttered to herself, arms full of long, black hard cases. What her Sire had in these was beyond her... But she had a hunch they were silver and sharp. The thump... Thump.. Thump of one of the cases banging against the door echoed through the main foyer like a loud clap of thunder. "Stupid.... Door..... OPEN!"  She yelled as the door did just that, taking her and the cases with it.

 

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!" Was heard as she landed on top of the cases, quickly hopping up and surveying the surroundings. "Hot damn, this is your house? Sweeeet..."  She muttered, as heavily lined hues took in the riches of the room.

A sigh followed by a shake of the head was given as she followed Maggie into the mansion. 'Twas a simple task and yet the chylde does it again... "Maggie dear, didn't I tell you to be careful with those?" She asked stepping into the main foyer. The familiar sent filled her lungs as hues glowed for a moment. "Yes Mag, this is my home... It's funny though because I don't really want to be here..." A sigh passed those fiery lips as the bags she was carrying dropped to the polished marble floor.

Perched upon the top of the staircase, dark eyes peered down to the noise below. A tilt of his head issued as he recognized Beth's voice, then her presence as she moved into the doorway. But, it was to the strange creature did his attention return to as careful steps brought him down along the red plushness of the stairs.  "Well well, I'll be damned to the nine hells, look what the dogs drug in that the cat wouldn't have.." Stopping to the tiled floor, a flutter of his hand was issued in a wave Beth's way before BDU clad lower half lowered to kneel to the other one piled atop the suitcases.  "And whom do we have here, hmm?"

A grin crept across her lips as hues darted to her dear brother. "Ha! The damn dogs wouldn't even have us..."  She shook her head and looked to Maggie. "Blade, this is Maggie, your fan club."  A snicker followed as she picked up her bags. "Play nice or I'll have to hurt you both..."  She finished, heading up the steps.

A grin crosses those onyx kissed lips as she looked to Blade. "So you're Beth's rotten brother, no?"  She giggled lightly and slowly stepped towards him. "She's told me all about you... And everyone else..."  She gave a light shrug. "Marcus... Your daddy... Some Jinx fellow and the Lycans... And and and.... Watch and learn she always says. So, can you teach me anything new?"

He grinned to Beth's words then gave a double take to this 'fan club' before him.   "Erm, I'm not one to suffer chyldes, Beth..Remember."  He called to her departing figure, then gaze fell back down to Maggie as he stood and offered his hand to her, helping her to his feet. "Yes, I am the rotten brother..and don't believe everything your faithful sire reveals to you about her past, or her family. "

 

He raised up a hand to silence her and then tweaked her nose lightly with the edge if his outstretched finger. "And, Yes, you can learn a great deal here, and to teach you one valuable lesson would be not to step too closely to the walls around this house, they have more than just pictures hanging from them...if you get my drift?"

She snickered lightly, Slowly pushing herself up.:: "And what do you have against offspring? Thats what makes the night go round!!"  She looked to Beth at the top of the stairs. "You're right he is messed up in the head." She picked up the cases and followed Beth up the stairs. "And lemmie guess, the walls... Have eyes, ears and in certain spots they'll grab at you... The townhouse in Germany is like that... Sometimes even the chairs don't wanna let go."   She finished with a slight nod.

"You'll do well to remember that this family is not all they appear to be."  He offered the chylde in her going. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he watched her then turned to move on into the study, the doors slowly closing in his wake as he moved over to where the display of fresh blood was offered. It wasn't like his sister to take to siring others, he wondered why this one was chosen. Oh well, such is the ways of his sister, knowing she probably held a good reasoning behind it, at least he wouldn't have to worry about her protection while she was here. This one's faltering attention was proof enough of that. The mind is a wonderful playground for the blood.

 

Chapter 3--Wolfbane Estate

 

Stationside, Romania 2004

History, 5:44 pm
There is an ancient mansion in the heart of the old world Transylvanian Alps. It overlooks the shores of the black sea , this stony harbinger of death unlike any lighthouse that would beckon out upon the land in guidence; this sshadow's purpose quite the opposite, to deter. A silent forewarning of impending darkness over the land. In order to find this abode, it is necessary to traverse several kilometers of haunted forest. In this dread grove, the earth is covered by the fallen, rotting leaves of interlaced, skeletal trees. There is no wind, but in its place, there is a dense cloud of fog that renders the atmosphere cold and wet. The shadows of unknown things complete the sentiment of fear that reigns here. There are not even the howls of strang, savage wolves to betray a sole sign of life. Puddles of still water hide the bones of those who lost hope of traversing this black wood that surrounds and protects the ancient castle.

In order to approach this monument of somber splendor, it is necessary to keep your courage. The exterior is composed of grey stone. Green and black ivy creep up the walls, which are beginning to crumble into decay. The stained glass windows are closed, and no light passes through them. They resemble the empty eyes of a skull on the wall of the mansion. Upon the gables there are hovering statues of gargoyles and angelic gestures of stone. They shriek in silence, their visages as cold as the stone from which they are sculpted. The high towers of the mansion disappear in the fog cloud, which hides the details of the Gothicsque architecture. A large set of oaken doors, reinforced with black iron, forms a dark mouth, dominating the face of the mansion, finishing the skull.

The owner of the mansion is the Tzi Regent of the old ways of Transylvania. His protective curse on the terrain prohibits all except those of his family and coven from entering the surroundings, except upon invitation, that is. Therefore, there exists no one in the woods. The inhabitants are the those that make up the Coven, they are masters and mistresses of all one surveys, their presence felt throughout this gloomy land.

Behind the heavy door, everything is dark. On entering, a feeble light reveals fine but old-fashioned furniture, covered in places with lingering dust and spider webs. The light also allows one to guess a corridor that offers doors to the left and right, each one closed. Between the doors, the cold stone is hidden underneath tapestries and portraits. At the end of the corridor, there is an immense room. A chandelier is suspended from the ceiling. The light reveals a stairway and split balconies, which are supported by columns, in the form of a circle that surrounds the room. The shadow of the balcony hides several other staircases, which lead underground to unknown places. On top of the balcony, there hangs a portrait of the late Aubrey Wolfbane, timeless expression captured in complimenting colors of a loving mother and loyal mistress to this estate, and behind that lies hidden a passage that leads more deeply into the mansion.

If one has the courage to follow the somber passage straight ahead, one will find a chamber sculpted into a cavern. Here, the columns are of natural stone. The ceiling and the walls are lost in the darkness. The air is tranquil and very humid. It is cold in this cavern, and one hears the drops of water drip on the floor somewhere. Approapiatly dubbed the "Dungeon", the walls are stitched shut in eternal silence to the horror that has been developed her for centuries. Something that no mortal eye has even had the opportunity to gaze upon...and live. The feeble light permits one to dimly see a little staircase that climbs to a stone platform, upon which a grand slab elevates itself. Upon that is the newest workings of a very old and well developed practice of fleshcrafting that comes alive within the mansion itself. Pale flesh and vivid crimson becomes the canvas in which these masters of madness create upon. What else exists behind closed doors remains to be discovered, but only to those that are invited. Invade the inner sanctum of the Tzi, and one may never be seen, nor heard from again.

 

Chapter 4--Return Home, Formal

 

Paris, France 2004

Jakob's Flat, 9:30 pm
It would appear that the devil's play ground had grown dull and in need of a descent reality check. The blue collar world renounly decresing in stocks and investments. How was a man to survive? Women seemed to becoming inpowered. Ridiculous really, who would have thought the quant house wife hair in snarls sweat pants baring holes had tricks up that tailored office skirt all of a sudden. It would seem someone wasn't handling their business appropriately at home now would it. Locks kept their dirty color messily shaped as fignertips brushed through creatively dispensing strands everywhere. Cotton T fitted, chisled features making it a bit snug, casual dark jeans and boots wore, typical travel geer , nothing over the top. The black and white ink ruffled before him as the pilot of the private jet scratched over the intercom system .. We are now descending ..and with the annoyance of his interuption did that Fasten Seat Belt sign above go "ding" ...a roll of those baby blue's given obedience never a strong suit to follow for him...as that flighty stewertess waddled over, for once why couldn't I get the young hot one for a change. A glance raised as pools met her own...that Nanny Fine of a voice from brooklyn ringing obnoxiously. "Excuse me Sir the Pilot announced our descent please fasten your seat belt..." All he wanted to do was read the friggen paper, was that so hard to believe. Hours in flight spent in slumber and this is what his green got him. A nod given to the fatty servant as calloused hands clasped the belt securly.

Business had improved with his trip to the states, ah the majestic lime light of New York New York. Far from the ettiquette he was acquired to of Paris. Indulgant morons really, too easy to swindel. A notion concieved, an idea birthed as he had established ties to substain the Underground in New York as well. Though the tunnels and subways of Paris made it easily obtained and managed. His mind swormed with intrigue to the challenge of subsidizing means to distribute weapons, drugs and his favorite means of disposal. The paper flared once more the ride bit bumpy, eyes widen to headlines enclosed. Things had seemingly gotten worse in the area with his departure. Lips coiled against each other rising at its corners to a smirk, lovely. Returning home was going to be fun. He would need no introductions to the cast of dense fog that had seemed to lay low in the lands. Something out of balance. Something not quite right.

He had left after visiting Kara his mind uneased with her words and actions...ungreetful for his offering. Typical female intuition, to make a man's life living hell. However, twisted as he was it was enjoyed. Couldn't a brother out of devotion and love extend a hand to blood? Well perhaps not without gaining something in return, but it was still heart felt none the less, give a guy some credit. Can't go from slimy a**hole to purified angel in one step, take it or leave it. The offer had been made once, rejection uncared for it wont be offered again. He hadn't time to play cat and mouse with her now, more important matters layed in pieces. Thoughts unrested as front wheels of the plane touched down, and then the back..a few thuds given as he braced....wondering where the hell this pilot got his license. A shake of his head given..as seat belt undone..he traveled light no need for a prissy carry-on he began heavy footing and got off the plane. Touch reached behind withdrawing the cell..presto with a flip it opened..voice activation noted in that rugged masculine tone kept low.. "Zachery" Phone to ear he stepped off the plane..Jakob knew it was damn good to be home.

 

Chapter 5--New Arrival

 

Stationside, Romania 2004

Lupine Territory, 5:30 pm
Kerry sucked a deep breath into her lungs as she shouldered the heavy duffel bag she'd left haphazardly slung over one shoulder. Much like the bag, her hiking boots had seen better days, the mud encrusted soles clomping their way down the steps of the train station to hit the sun-craked sidewalk below. She paused there a moment, her free hand raised to brush her hair from her face, several strands of the chocolate mass having escaped the loose clip at the back of scalp sometime during the ride from the nearest city large enough to mention aloud. She paused there for several long moments, drinking in the sight of the tiny, mountain town where she was to spend the next several weeks for her assignment. It may not have been in the midst of ripe Midwest farmland, but as far as she was concerned, Lois Lane would have called it "Dullsville" in mockery of Kent's hometown anyway. Kerry was inclined to agree.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered beneath her breath, the lingering of her charming Irish accent tinting her voice. "Do they honestly expect me to drum up stories about werewolves from what has problem been the local yokel legend for generations? The things I do for a paycheck." Indeed, she despised working for that tawdry little tabloid, the Inquiring Minds. When they weren't running stories about President Bush's tawdry love affair with an intern, a male intern at that, they were announcing the reincarnation of Elvis in the body of a Japanese pop singer who couldn't carry a tune.

Wrinkling her pert nose in disgust, though where it was directed towards the paper she freelanced for or herself for supplying them, she stirred herself into motion once more, one hand hoisting the duffel back while the other curled inwards to protect the camera bag that nestled against her side. She ignored the bite of the strap where it dug into her shoulder, the durable black material cutting across her chest of her babydoll T-shirt with it's black and green emblem of the Flogging Molly band. The first thing she had to do was find herself a hotel. Preferably a cheap hotel. The conductor at the station had provided with her vague directions to one such establishment and she set off down the center of town in search of it.

 

 

Chapter 6--Shattered Mirror: Fragments

 

Western Romania 2004

Somewhere in the scattered mind of a Malk

 

In the singing, shattered midnight
By the coral sands of time
Through the bloody gates of heaven
Past the sentries in my mind
[The Book of Nod, The Book of Secrets, Pg. 80, "Malkav's Words," First Stanza]
~I~
A Weary Traveler

Shadows crept and danced along the gravel-covered earth. The cool breeze from the East shifted through the large trees nearby causing them to sway to an unknown rhythm. Leaves rustled together adding their part to a chilling yet simple symphony of the night, which included the sound of chirping crickets, nearby wildlife, and my staggered footsteps along the loose gravel. A full moon hung brightly in a cloudless sky. Its silvery rays beaming down casting my shadow far out ahead of me. It was like walking a dark frightening gauntlet. To my right, the cold, foreboding forest and to my left an equal mirror image of the same bleak sight, and I walking down the center planks of a railroad track that I had been following for days on end now. At least I wasn't alone. My shadow kept me company. It was comforting to know that wherever I went, he went. Clutching my diary to my breast, I adjust my stride stepping up onto the adjacent right railroad track. Maintaining a sense of balance carefully moving along the thin metal rail making sure to keep one foot in front of the other.

How long have I've been running down these tracks? Why am I running? Form whom am I running? I thought to myself as I continued to walk along the rail. Holding the diary closer to my chest my eyes cast down to its leather bound cover. Placing a hand on the textured surface of the cover, striving to remember the passages I had written into the diary not more than a few days ago.

The Primogen was in an uproar. Over 27 million dollars had vanished over the course of a few weeks, and the Prince was furious. The Prince had summoned all the chapter leaders in the city for a surprise meeting. I remember it. We sat at a large round table. The Prince had chosen his office of operations to be located on the top 5 floors of the city federal taxation bureau. Leave it to a Venture prince to be in charge of tax money. He quickly brought up the issue and fingers automatically were being pointed. It was like a Salem witch trial that cold rainy night. It was like reading the pages of the well-known play by Arthur Miller, "The Crucible" all over again but when the page was turned, nothing prepared me for what was to happen next…

Continuing along the tracks, moving carefully and keeping excellent progress on the rail. My thoughts were striven harder to dig deeper into the cracks of my mind and search out the answers on my own. Striding off the rail I continue off to the sides of the tracks still following them in step. My feet dragging again along the loose gavel, until they step onto the hard smooth surface of blacktop. A road! A tiny back road, but it was a road nonetheless, and roads led to cities, or so I was lead to believe. I clutched my diary tightly again to my chest, as if it was her holding me tightly. Like she always did when I needed her.

"Here my precious. It's a gift from me to you," Dahlia spoke as she ran a hand through my hair and handed me a large leather blank paged book. "This is going to be your Diary my dear. There may come a time, when I will no longer be around, and this will help you when the cracks begin to go deeper."

I shook my head taking the book from her happy of the gift but also in denial of the truth as I locked her into a powerful loving almost worshipping hug. "Don't be silly mistress," I said. "You will always be with me, and we will never be apart for all eternity." She gave a face that could make even the stoutest of men worry. I licked my lip in worry as I crawled into her lap. locking our eyes together  "Won't we?" I asked innocently.

My train of thought would be interrupted as the ringing and tolling of the nearby railroad marker. The two adjacent borders falling down to block off access to the tracks as the red slow strobe lights fill the night air. I turn to face it the red light blinking along all my features. …The crowd murmuring and yelling, until the finger was pointed a last time. My mind going in and out of reality watching the red lights my eyes widening in terror, as the train rushes by. Dahlia's face was shocked as she tried rebuking but their mind was made. Justice needed to be served as they reached for their weapons. The train moving by quickly the gaps of lights making a mesmerizing and terrifying state as its whistle blew its haunting blare into the night. Dahlia shrieked with horror backing me out of the room and then into an adjacent elevator. Her blood tears falling freely as she kissed me deeply and whispered the words: I shall always love you.

"Now run!" she screamed and I felt her push me away and behind the safe walls of the elevator doors I could here her screams followed by a hail of gunshots.

Her and my screams in my mind were in unison with the train whistle as I quiver. The turning and cranking of the trains wheels the bullet shots. That cold reality slowly was making its way, back into my mind. I could only cry and fall to me knees as the train then passed by, the lights stop flashing, and the borders rising. Everything returned back to the way it should, but I still on my knees crying my crimson tears, alone, and still very much insane in the cold full moon night.

*The tiny café was dimly lit. The owner had noticed this tall, lanky, soaking wet man slump through his door not but a few minutes ago and proceed to a table in the back and sit down. To describe the man he would say he was a Caucasian male, pale, with long dark hair with funky purple streaks, blue eyes, back pants, and a blood splattered purple dress shirt. Now maybe the owner should have been a bit more cautious, but it was the trend not to ask questions in this small town. He offered the shaken and frantic man drink by setting down a hot cup of coffee onto the checkered table clothed table he sat at.*

Need a pen. Need a pen. I have to write this down. Have to focus come on please! I begged myself, my hands diving into my pockets, frantically searching for some kind of writing instrument. I couldn't remember how many days I had been traveling and hadn't been writing along the journey on the railroad tracks, perhaps I had forgotten? "You all right?" He asked the bloodied thin male in a thick Germanic accent, and in the best English he could muster. Looking to him licking my chapped lips and nodded stuttering a bit from shock, but acknowledged that I would be okay. With that answer the owner walked away going to attend his other guests in the front of the café. My eyes looked at the steaming cup of coffee shuddering; the events that just took place running through my head like a bullet train. The coffee, undrinkable, kept a mesmerized state over me for the greater part of an hour.

I had just entered town not but a few hours ago and combed the streets looking about. The road had lead to a decently sized town, with quite a population, a bit rural none the less but showing signs of a modern world making its way into daily life. Steam rose from sewer vents giving the place a very creepy sense of darkness. The old town homes and cobblestone pathway was a relic of the past. Distant lights beamed their auras in the misty air from afar. I looked for some place to bed for the evening somewhere I would be safe. Skimming through the pages of the diary gazing at the name of the person that I had come all this way to see. That name was an acquaintance of Dahlia's, and in the book it read as….

I would be distracted by a quick shout in my direction. It was a subtle but commanding order as eyes would turn to look into an adjacent alleyway, and a large muscular, hairy, poorly dressed man aiming a pistol right at this young protagonist.

"He Sie! In die Gasse jetzt." The voice called out persisting with the firearm.  Clueless as to what the man wanted but with that pistol he had a good idea. Instinctively throwing arms up in a defeated gesture, the man quickly grabbed my shoulder, gripping the shirt and drug this whelp of a Malkavian into the darkness of the alleyway.

"Geben Sie mir alles Ihr Geld und Juwelen jetzt!" The man yelled continuing to threaten with the gun. "Jetzt!" He yelled again threatening to pull the trigger. Still clueless as to what the petty robber wanted it all sounded like gibberish to me.

Returning too normal I looked around the now almost empty Café. The coffee now nuke warm. The steam was now just like a fading cigarette. Rubbing my temples and shuddering trying to force myself to remember what else happened, not wanting to at all, and then shift eyes back down into the coffee cup taking a nearby spoon and beginning to stir the dark liquid watching it ripple…

…Expect the unexpected. That's what my Sire Dahlia always said. Pondering that as I sat there at a lone cafe table, a cup of nuke warm, not drunken coffee sitting before me. How long have I been sitting here, an hour now, maybe two? I came to a conclusion that one can never really expect the unexpected. Especially in that moment when your starring down the barrel of a pistol.

 

Then the trigger was pulled, and I did something stupid. Freeze, and make a funny face, maybe even attempted to run away. Then I felt that bullet enter my body, splitting the flesh, then exiting. No, bursting from the other side. Splattering my vitae through the air and onto any near by obstacles in a nearly anime fashion. In that moment time seems to...freeze in a sense. I didn't seem to feel the pain yet. It's a numbing cold feeling that fills you all over. Then the pain kicks in as I try to reach for something to cling to. A brick wall with vitae spilled all over it is the only thing I had as my body pressed against it to try and stay on my feet. Clenching my teeth I pushed back to my feet and faced the assailant. To me it was a strong accomplishment, but my attacker would give very little regard, and would reward me with two more slugs. The lead erupting from a cylindrical chamber, and seeking target. Again ripping past my pale slender body, then embedding into the brickwork behind. The pain is immense and I found myself backing up against the wall again, as the cold numbness became a hot searing, stinging, pain. The assailant now is slightly worried. Three shots to vital parts of the body, and still I stood. Couldn't hear anything do to the nagging ringing in my ears, but watched his lips move in a curse gesture of disbelief containing three words the last word not a very nice one either. He reached for the trigger again to finish it by placing a bullet between my brow. Then that's when the unexpected happens...

 

...That's when time then returns to normal. I thought and groaned feeling the bullet wounds in my cold flesh shuddering, and looking back to the coffee. The memory was slowly fading, like a Polaroid picture developing in reverse and I strove again for a writing utensil. Forcing myself to remember what else happened.

 

Back against that brick wall. Rage building inside me, as the punk hoodlum got ready to try and put me out of my sick insane misery. I remember his voice as my hearing cleared. I heard his burly and confident voice as he spoke his Greek.

" Scheiße sind Sie verrückter als ich. Zum Schlechten habe ich Tötung Sie. Sagen hallo zu Satan für mich wurde Sie?" He grinned slowly pulling the trigger, and then time sped up. I've noticed when you know what to do time goes by in an instant without delay, when something unexpected happens time seems to slow so your brain can take in all the detail of what seems to not be. For me it was but a millisecond, but to my assailant it was an eternity as I leaped form my position on the wall moving over to him gripping the barrel of his gun with my pale boney left hand and twist it inside toward him. Having it aim right for his slowly becoming fearful visage...just as he had pulled the trigger.

 

I watched in horror. I didn't mean to kill him. I didn't expect him to pull the trigger so fast. Maybe that's why it went so slow. I could only watch in fear after I heard the hammer retract. My eyes narrowed seeing the bullet enter right below his nose and then exit somewhere in the back of his head in my mind. Seeing that gray matter and blood splattering now as his eyes rolled back and his body collapsed leaving me alone now in the quiet slum alleyway. I didn't mean to kill him. I didn't know what to do. I stood there in awe a moment, before snapping into sense and escaping through the curtain of steam made form the sewers that escaped from the man hole lids, and rain gutters that reminded me of the steam from my coffee. I didn't mean to kill him! Thus, I escaped to this tiny cafe in my passion frenzy, and here I am now on the verge of blood tears. I didn't mean to kill him! I lay my head resting them on my folded arms shuddering. My motion spilling the coffee. The cold dark brown liquid now spreading across the table, along the generic checkered plastic tablecloth and dripping onto the hard carpeted floor. I didn't mean to kill him!! I heard my Sires teachings in my head sending me into another crying whimper.

 

"Always remember my childe. That no matter what. No one has the right to take the life of another. Like the Dark Father had done to his brother and realized that life is precious and we forget to realize that if we do destroy we cannot bring it back. Remember this my dear Leo."

 

And I remembered. I remembered it all to well. Oh Dahlia, I wish you were here to take care of me. I miss you. I'm lost without you, I said to myself. In my tears however my cursed mind took hold and as my hand brushed along the cloth and touched that icy liquid I would snapped awake looking left and right. Where was I? What time was it? I wiped my face seeing that I had been crying. Tears? Why was I crying just now? Whatever memory I had right after I found my way to get to my destination by the railroad tracks had been erased and totally lost. So was I now. I began to panic and ask why was I here? Where was I going?

Gaze shifted to my diary that sat open before me. It was open to blank pages and me with no pen. I quickly flipped back to where my writing had been most recent to find the answers to my questions. I read that I was seeking a man that had known my sire in some way, and maybe able to help me. I read my handwriting and it told of this man that lived east of my Russian home in the lands of Romania. I had little to no information on this man except for the location and a name that a Nosferatu contact provided me with, and that name was…

"…Sir Antoine Vincent Wolfbane," I read out loud and looked up from my diary closing it and running a pale hand over the leather bound cover, again lost in whatever memory that was left to cherish, that had not vanished.

A mysterious rain had slowed any quick progress. Tired and hungry my legs carried me further through the streets, and even sometimes through the mud. The air was bitter against any living creature, chilling all the pay past the flesh to the bone. I had been sent from city to city to city looking for this alleged acquaintance of Dahlia's. My mind urged myself to remember my trek. My diary was tucked under my arm in an attempt keeping it dry. I wanted answers, but to open my diary now would be a catastrophe. I rose my hand to shield my eyes from the rain looking about the wilds, until I noted a message written on my palm in black ink. My eyes squint as if it was foreign. I lower my hand and rub my opposite thumb over it as if to remove it. When it doesn't, I then stroke the writing trying to remember what it stood for.

 

The bar was dimly lit and smoke filled, the wood furnishings giving it a very rustic and dark appearance. I had been sent too three other places before I landed in this small hive of uncleanness, all the while in the same bullet ridden and blood splattered clothing. Little by little my hope was running out as my anxiety rose, but somehow I knew this was the place where I would find my answers.

I held out a small scrap of paper with a note on meeting a fellow here by 11 p.m. to get the information I required. The fellow I was meeting was named "Gregory." Apparently he was friendly, could speak English, and better of all a Nosferatu. Eyes shifted to a shady figure in the corner who waved me down, this was my man apparently.

We began talking, after normal exchange of introductions. He was a short male, with a slight unpleasant odor. Gregory from what I saw was garbed in heavy hooded coat. His lower half was covered in multiple pocketed pants of some kind and thick leather boots that traveled up his calves. We spoke for a bit on light conversation before he gave me some information that would be useful. I tried reaching for my pen. Damn, still no pen, I try to keep reminding myself to write a note to remember to get one, but how can I remember to write the note, when I don't have a pen to write the note with!

He noted my trouble and took my hand. His hand was repulsive, green scaled, rotting, and his skin seemed to peel like sunburn. My eyes widened in fright at first, until I saw he was holding an ultra- fine point sharpie black permanent marker in his opposite hand. With that he began inscribing directions into my dead flesh.

He finished and nodded taking his pen back. I was tempted to steal it as he nodded. I thanked him and was quick to leave. I remembered his voice as he called my crazy, and that a powerful storm was beginning to brew. I shrugged off his warning and made my way out of the tavern remembering his more promising words about how: "…This will help you when you get lost." I then look down to what he wrote.

I mouthed the address that was written on my palm looking around in the dark forest. A lightning bolt striking across the placid skies. The energy lighting the area as a shadow loomed over me in the area. I blinked looking to it. It appeared to be a sign. In confusion and blurred vision, I moved closer to investigate the sign, and compared it with the palm. The lightning strikes lit the reading as it came to an exact match. I was on the right track. A soft smile would come across, but would be removed with another investigation. Aside from the sigh was a long and dark pathway looming like some undeniable death trap.

Gulping and nodding. I knew I had to proceed into the darkness, and thus I did, and plunged myself into the darkness of the unknown. His courage very much at a nothing, but the diary clutched to his body gave him the will. Along my way I then remembered one of the things I wish I hadn't remembered from Gregory's meeting.

I heard his raspy voice say: "This man…This Antoine? He's a dangerous man, and god willing if he doesn't tear you apart. Then he may help you. Just be careful young one."

"I will." I replied. "I will."

 

Chapter 7--A Sweet Little Visit

 

Caparthian Mountians 2004

Shadowlight Magick Shop, 6:43 pm
Jakob wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do for the tribe, but as he entered the front of the small shop, dark eyes scanned about in search of his sister. Would she recognize him after all these years?

Kara was busy keeping the dust from clinging to those spell books she sold for a living. A faint smile came to her lovely face as her mind wandered. It would still wander until a faint ring of a bell sounded. The bell that was tied to that front door of the shops door. A few blinks were given before she set that duster aside and stepped through the beaded curtain. Before even looking up to see who entered she spoke. " Can I help you with somethi---" She paused quickly when her eyes landed upon her brother Jakob. She brought her lower lip inward and gave a few light nips to it. She wrinkled her nose as she would move to pick up a candle and move closer to her brother. She freed her bottom lip now as she parted them to speak once again. " What brings you all the way out here Jakob? "

Jakob gave a weak smile towards his sister as he would let that door shut and the sound of that small bell would ring through the shop once again. Hands moved to hide within his blazer. Dark eyes moved about the small magic shop and finally fell back onto his sister.  "You have a nice little shop here Kara. They always said you had the power to run your own place. "

Her brows furrowed a bit as she just gave a light nod towards her brothers words. She placed that candle down and moved over towards the oils and such. Head tilted a bit to the side and those long locks of raven colored hair feel to the side. She brought her arms up and lightly crossed them and lightly pressed them to her body. "I know you did not come her for some small talk Jakob. What is it that you are after here?"

A hurt look came quickly to his face as he moved to close the distance between himself and his sister. "Come now Kara. Not every visit I give you is me trying to get things from you. "

She just shook her head now and let a soft smirk settle upon her face. Arms were uncrossed and fell to her sides. "Jakob. Im not stupid. I know your games and your always out for yourself. So if your here for any reason to get information out of me. You might want to exit the same what you came in."

 He gave her a smirk as he would turn about on his heels and moved towards that door. A light shake of her head was given to his older sister. "What a pity . You could be welcomed back into the clan Kara if only you would work with me. But if you enjoy your solitude here in this mountain place you call your home. Then so be it."  And with those words he made his way out leaving the last thing Kara heard from him was that small bell that hung on the shops door. Jakob wasn't surprised by the cold greeting of his long, lost sister. Truth be told, he was only there to gather information. There wasn't any real love lost, after all, she did break the covantant and bed with a wyrm.

 

That in itself would warrant death from him, no matter who it was. Father had been to far too lenient with her. But, guess what? Father is dead now, no savior for the princess anymore. So sad. And another point, His hunch was right, she did know something, and was damn well suspicious of even him....her own flesh and blood. Imagine that!!! But, it really put a big dent in his plans of sweet talking her out of the map. Guess sister dear wasn't as dumb as he had her pegged as.

On the drive back into Ridgefield, he could only ponder his next move. All roads led back to Kara and that sisterhood she was with. Facts gathered from a few tribal elders, with a greasing of palms with a few bucks, of course, had him confirmation on the lore. Now if he could only get his hands on the map. Yes, he needed that. Marcus wouldn't understand the politics of the Lycans. Rather than use greed as their guidence, they used what was called their brains. Something Jakob was learning the vamps did not poscess. Well, not Marcus at any rate.

Now would be time to play the dark knight in his little game of chess. Zack would have to go in and try to pry the map out from his sister Kara's tight fist. The old 'Trojan in the city of Troy' plot would work. Zack wasn't connected with Jakob in the public's eye. To them, he was just a mere business owner struggling in a tourist town. Club Insomina. And seeings how his sister wouldn't come to town to drink like the rest of the split tails around here, he would ultimatly need to send Zack to her.

After a quick call to him via his cell, things were put into motion. Zack would be on his way to the mountain by nightfall to visit with his dear sister..Now if he could stall the vampyre just a little bit longer, he would aquire the map, and the problem would be solved. With that map turned over to the kindred, he was planting his own seeds of victory. If the blood suckers were dumb enough to actually raise this dead race of old lore, then..."....they will be in a world of shyt...."  Jakob could only laugh to that one. But, with or without the resurection of these monsters, the Lycan tribes would begin their walk across Kindred country and soon, trampling them under their feet as they marched on to victory. Ruling the immortal world wasn't really that big of a goal that you couldn't obtain easily, especially if you were Jakob Kristen.

 

 

Chapter 8--Lust is only the Beginning

 

Stationside, Romania 2004

Club Insomnia, 4:30 pm
No...Zach wasnt stupid. Watching the young woman walk away from him he balled his hands into fists. NO one turned him down...No one! Growling under his breath, he knew she was drunk but that didnt matter. Looking around the street with his sea foam green eyes he spotted a group of young women that were smiling and carying on about something or another. Shaking his head, he wanted something new...not street trash. He wanted...Kara....turning away he walked away from the club with its bright red lights reading "Club Insomnia". Remembering Jakobs words "Get the map from Kara, do what it must take." Grumbling under his breath, yes he was glad that Jakob trusted him but of course Zach had to do all the dirty work. But now that Kara was involved he was alittle bit happier.

 

Running his fingers over his spiked jet black hair he walked towards his 1975 Dodge Charger, it was his baby...sort of. Shoving the key into the small lock he twisted it to the right and felt the latches unlock allowing him to enter the car. Slipping inside with a grace only a Lycan could have he put the key into the ignition and closed the door with a thud. Taking a deep breath he blew it out and looked down at himself...did he look good enough to try to lure Kara into his grasp? A black shirt clung tighlty to his chest and showed off that he was not at all someone that didnt work out, washboard abs were perfectly toned and his arms were perfectly shaped. A black leather jacket was covering his shirt...it was necissary. That jacket went everywhere. Black jeans were slightly tight on his legs and other areas but what lay under them was not to be revealed yet. Smirking softly he turned the key hearing the engine roar, it sent a shiver through his body. A good car and a good woman was all he would ever need.

 

Pulling away from the curb he drove up the winding roads that led to the mountains. Spotting the little shop that Kara owned he pulled into a spot and let the engine die. Laughing under his breath at the occult shop she owned he slid out of his car and walked up to the door. Pushing his way inside the little bell rang out and made his presence clear. But if you knew Zach you would know that the second he walked in, it would be obvious. Sexual air radiated off of him like a second blanket, laughing under his breath he spotted the beauty then...oh yes this was going to be worthwhile. Hopefully he didnt get his heart caught up in the game or he would be dead. "Hello Kara"..

Smiling softly he had it...after leaving Kara's shop..he had it! Proud of himself slightly...but Zachery wasnt very nice to Kara about it. A beauty she was, he took every chance he had to touch her, even if it was just a brush of the shoulders. The map rolled up in a scroll like wrap he put it into a small drawer and then locking it. Jumping onto his bed he sighs softly, another dirty deed done for Jacob. The Map had to be drawn by Kara, for all he knew it was a fake but what did he know? He was just there for the dirty deeds ....and the women. Sighing again he needed to start thinking of finding a mate but could he possibly be commited to just one female? There were afew females he could think of that would make good mates...Kara....Kara...Hummm Genisis....no she was to into the skinny coward who always had his tail tucked between his legs...what was his name? Corey? yes..yes that was it. Laying down he pulled the covers around him and slowly fell into a state of darkness.

 

 

Chapter 9--Haunted Steps

 

Lupine Territory Romania 2004

Tribal Gardens, 9:30 pm
Genesis' feet haunted the ground they were gently placed upon. The night was that of darkness- the moon, covered by clouds, did not give the light this soul had often looked to for guidance. But still, she wandered the gardens she had cultivated so lovingly, searching for an answer that could never be found.

Genesis was very beautiful, indeed. But it was not the cutting edge beauty that so many possessed in this day and age, but more the soft, unearthly beauty so cherished in an ancient world. She wore no revealing, skintight adornments. A simple white tee rested upon those slender shoulders, framing her figure ever so lightly. A skirt trailed upon the earth behind her, the soft silk carressing slender legs. The length of cloth was tied at her hips by a simple length of white rope, a picture of contrastment to the obsidian cloth it rested upon. A soft breeze caught up golden tressess, the silken strands carressing flawless bronze cheeks. Striking cobalt hues, framed by thick lashes, sifted through her lovely garden, a soft sigh escaping lips whom rivaled the rose for beauty. She moved with a serpentine grace so effortlessly, the slender figure she possessed seeming to glide. But as beautiful and calm the exterior may seem, the interior of this unearthly woman was a rather different story...

Why were they leaving? She had known for a time that her people were leaving the sacred ranks, off to fight in that so-called "glorious" war. No war she had ever known of had been "glorious". Remembered and written about in history books, it may seem fantastic, like fanciful tales of knights and dragons. But it was all death- shadows and darkness. Did they never wonder why the survivors often went mad? But it was no use, thinking this way. "Should have"'s and "What if's" were of no use to her now. She needed guidance...ironic- she, the one so many looked to for help, counsel. Yet she had no idea what to do. She was not only thinking for herself, her own safety. She must also think of her child...the tender life growing within her. If not for that, she would have done something- perhaps gone to Jakob, to plead for peace. But she would not risk the danger for her child.

But as she wandered the gardens, admiring the beauty which blossomed about her- she knew she could only hope. Hope for times better than this, both for her and her child. A slight glance upwards told her the moon would offer no guidance this night...it was hidden by darkness, its futile attempts to break free made in vain. A soft sigh escaped those tender rose-petal tiers, cobalt hues once again grazing upon the blossoms.

 

Chapter 10--Returning Home, Getting Started

 

Paris, France 2004

Jakob's Flat, 10:00 pm
The night had proven itself inadiquate to Jakob's taste. Distained with misfortune and rude acquantances he knew not how to approach or be approached any more. Obviously Zachery wasn't answering , by the third call he grew highly impatient. Rather disturbing for a right hand man to be untouchable, it made wheels turn in wonder. As his voice message clicked over, an ackward brow quarked to his choice of music selection playing in the message , what was this shit? Sir mix alot, something about he likes big butts and he cannot lie? he shook his head who the hell did he have working for him. Finally the oh so anticipated "beep" that masculine tone annoyed spoke sternly. "Zach , Jacob. You should have called me back like yesterday when you see my number. Don't know the problem, fix it and CALL" Phone flipped shut, as with a raise of his hand a taxi was hailed. Ridiculous he had to take a cab. First, few seconds home already disobediance. He had enough of that from his theiving sister Kara. The cab pulled up heavy boots hit against paved grounds a twenty thrown to the driver as he glaced to the building a sigh of relief -Home.

A key in lock turned as he pressed the door opened keys tossed casually to counter top as hands slipped within pockets to empty out, always loving to have found money; instead an empty gum wrapper and a number on paper. A roll of his eyes given damned if that had only been a twenty. The paper joined the keys ontop the counter as he walked down the narrow hall . The end table that kept the machine and phone passed, a press given to the flashing button as messages were spit one after the other...volume at full he moved to undress to retire for the night. Balcony windows left in opening the breeze soft hit against that baren flesh as each part was slowly exposed.."beep" Jacob baby where you been all my life it's Tasha. Listen doll I need a favor, some big wigs are flying into town need ya, love ya , call the cell. "beep" ~ next message "beep" ..Seriously Jacob we need to talk its Maria , remember your f*ck friend, well I guess ex now. Listen I just dont think this is working out. I'll call you. "beep" .. end of messages... he blinked gently, chuckle escaped to her selection of words at least she knew where she stood..what the fuck she broke up with my machine? a growl caused lips to curl ..as he tossed his clothes to the floor and stepped out of the pants that had been undone and fell about ankles...can't win them all I suppose.

 

Digits reached for a towel as it was wrapped about his nude form to cover..he stepped back out from the bedroom to the hall passing the machine once again the button hit as the phone was placed off the hook...no disturbances this evening. He reached the kitchen to where the counter was, baby blue's shifted to the paper, contemplating if the chic at the other end of that number minded flying out to Europe seeing how Maria couldn't handle being simply what everyone was to him a piece fo meat. Women never did understand them, probably never will. His body craved a nice hot shower for now, the cell placed on charger was put to vibrate. Obvious Zach found no need to return his call promtly therefore now he could wait until ready to answer the god damn phone.

Walking into his room, Zach saw his answering machine blinking like a bat out of hell. Walking over to it he threw his keys onto the four poster bed and pushed the button. The words rang out "Zach, Jacob. You should have called me back like yesterday when you see my number. Don't know the problem, fix it and CALL". Jesus Christ in heaven what was eating him? Maybe he didn't want to know...picking up the phone he dialed the number and listened. Oh sure...now he wasn't going to ANSWER! A growl erupted from his lips, hearing the beep he left this simple short message "You know where I live..if you need me then come here or to the club". Shaking his head he threw the phone down and walked to his bed laying down on it. God he needed a nice pair of legs and a derriere to gaze on. Picking up his phone he dialed a number and heard the sweet sultry voice of Carla come onto the line. Making arrangements he hung up the phone and lay there waiting....

In stride did his belt begin to vibrate, the number ringing through Zachery. Well about god damn time. He had only returned home to no welcoming, no ride....and yet a surprise no Zachery to be found. The end call button was pressed sending him to voice mail...though it was no Mix alot....but that roughed monotoned accent of displeasure to greet his message awaiting to be left.... "You've reached the cell , do your thing, leave one and maybe I will get back to you" a prick perhaps...more like a**hole but he would deal with it as should others he could careless for anothers opinion, after all did they run things? Non. Another couple vibrations signalling message left as the cell was grabbed and flipped. Voice mail listened to as those baby blue's darkened, pupil absent in their setting to his message left. Teeth gritted agaisnt one another.

 

If he wished to continue this mascarade so be it, Zachery treded on thin ice. If I want him I know where to find him at home? I shouldn't have to go to such lengths so we shall see what exactly Zachery is trully made of. Though did I have it in myself to use my sister to get to him. His drewling had grown tired of. A simple task was asked and had he yet the map in hand? Of coarse not. Digits hit redial...awaiting his message ....."Beep" ...as he cleared his throat ... "Ahem... If you wish not to work for me consider it done. If your not at the old cathedral club on 20-1st street down town within the hour . I will consider your lack of presence your notice...and consider Kara my concern not yours. I do hope we understand one another."

The phone shooved into pocket as his walk continued. F*cking idiots all of them...a sigh given to the notion. A shame to lose Zachery, but easily replaced. I think while away someone's head had grown abnormally large and that stick wedged up his a** needed removal, and quickly. Had he been so indulged with his torrid thoughts of Kara to not realize Jacob had seen in the way he spoke of her what was thought? Obviously, he could care less who his sister spread her legs to even if she had not....let a boy dream of such wonders. It was evident the task in hand was not going to be done and he could no longer depend on Zachery to do so. Things had been recently put into place to asure the map obtained. Zachery just a middle man, distraction and the more he played off the wooing the better Jacob stood a chance of gaining access by other means. Quant the small minded toils. Lovely the grand scheme and how its played out in the end. Let the games begin.

 

The cathedral club around the block boomed with music. Seldom did it render silence from its walls. If only they could talk the stories they would have. Heavy boots treded against the cool pavement of the streets. A slight brivato in the grounds felt as he neared the entrance. That bulky bouncer with brow raised gave a nod...white letters spelling out S.E.C.U.R.I.T.Y. , a deprived child he was indeed. Most muscle bound wonders were at one point or another that nerdy school kid with thick glasses head slammed down toilets. Funny how they grow to be the bully's themselves. A gestured nod given as that crushed red velvet rope was let open to allow his entrance within. The line encompassed about the building. Popluar the night hours had become for mortals to quench their own thirsts. Perhaps a morsel awaits within. He entered and waited.

 

 

Chapter 11--A Strange Visitor

 

Stationside, Romania 2004

Wolfbane Estate, Midnight

A secret I shall tell... If you promise to stay...
I do get lonely... So please, don't stray...

 

'Taptap... Taptap... Taptap...' Was all that echoed off the Victorian papered walls of the estate... And the sound was that of dripping water so it seemed... But no, it was the sound of sharp heeled ballerina boots against fine marble tile. The sound of that Controlled Experiment in her seemingly possessed state, roaming the halls she was confined to. As the tapping drew nearer and nearer to the gold painted archway, the faint voices of children could be heard... Gibbering in a backwards fashion along with twisted giggles, morbid cries and screams of terror. But it was just her, no taller than 5 foot, 7 inches and weighed not more that 115 pounds, she appeared frail indeed, as did most of the Malkavian breed. But the insanity that lied beneath that milky flesh...

 

Marked by her 'Guardians long past.' The insanity most take for granted, can also be ones strong point. Other than the insanity, her senses were heightened to the extreme as of late... She could hear the mice in the basement and the maids gossiping on the other end of the estate. Odds are it was the virus playing tricks with her again, but it wasn't minded one bit... And she felt a presence from afar, one she hadn't felt in years something that made her tainted blood boil. 'Master? Is that you?' She thought to herself, but received no answer. Once again, she had come to terms that her kindred master was long gone, even the researches at the lab blamed it on her insanity. 'But their Tzimisce, what do they know?' Were the words that passed onyx tiers. 'The only thing they know about the Malkavian is...' She paused for a moment, icy blues unnaturally glassy as a smirk now crossed those lips. 'Absolutely, positively nothing! Auspex... And nothing else, Sabbat is much feared by us indeedy...' She babbled, referring to herself in the third person... But then a knock was heard as she reached the top step... Then another and another, bringing her back into reality... The voices stopped, the 'possession' was over... Which only meant one thing, she had company.

A gloved hand wrapped tightly around the oak bannister, metal talons sinking into the wood slightly as she struggled to keep that thin frame balanced. Ohhhh... Who could that be... She grumbled as those black feathered wings fluttered for a moment. A simple sigh escaped those lips as she slowly descended the marble steps, the clicking of sharp heels echoing through the main foyer over the loud knocking. Yes, yes, yes... I'm coming damnit, hold your bloody horses... She muttered, her voice light and subtle. Terra was indeed a gentile soul, not meaning harm to any other... But at the same time, she was just flat out insane... 'Twas the bloodline of course. Icy blue hues darted around as she reached the lower floor, and not a house worker in sight... Of all the... She shook her head stepping towards the door and with a hard tug she managed to pull the heavy door open just enough to peek out, the pale features of her face encased in darkness... Nothing visible but black and the sparkle of those hues. Yes, what is it? What do you want? That voice cut through the black, slightly irritated... But still, with her usual sweetness.

And with that her hues would fall upon the slumped form of Leonovan right on their doorstep collapsed to the ground the travel and weather wearing him down as he lays there mud covered and weak. The rain still pouring with such vigor in the dark night. He lay there resting half against the ornate entrance of the estate. His hands clinging at the stonework. Eyes wincing a bit as he opens them to view her. His vision unclear and dizzy as lights seemed to spin like an astral plain. Her form was spinning as well maybe it was his weakened condition. Maybe it was he and mud in his eyes, maybe he was just crazy, but for a moment the stranger in the doorway resembled Dahlia as he leaned forward a bit lips opening to release a soft breath muttering Dahlia's name imploringly as he clutches the diary to his chest again shivering, and blacks out slipping into a deep unconscious.

Ohhhhh, sheesh... She muttered, pulling the door now all the way open, revealing her black satin covered frame and wild curly black hair. Pale blue ribbons were laced across her chest and down the sides of the dress with a matching pleat near the hem that flared it out quite a bit. Now what do I do? She muttered as those teeth ground together. Another soft sigh was issued as she grabbed his arms... Feeling a sudden shock... There was a likeness between the two... Something strange she hadn't felt in a good while. She drug the dirty, soaked on in and shoved the door shut, locking it tight, then turning to the on laying on the marble floor. She knelt down beside him and began to poke at his chest with one of those metal claws. You... A twisted grin crossed those onyx kissed lips as she continued to poke. You're like me... You're a Malkavian... That twisted grin slowly faded as hues darted around. Oh, but they mustn't know... She said low, grabbing his arms once more. Come Kindred, I shall make you at home... She finished, heading towards the stairs with the poor soul in her clutches.

He was heavy like a sack of bricks as she clutched that muddy blood splattered from. Garmented in a purple dress shirt, and black pants. Body still and quivering. His diary held close, as she made her way with him. Very still and lost within his own mind he groans trying to snap into some form of consciousness as they move alone his hand falls to the side and that leather bound diary falls from his grasp falling as if in slow motion and impacting with the ground flipping open, and sliding along the smooth floors. His body feeling like it was ascending to heaven being carried by an angel. His mind disoriented as to what exactly was going on, as he clenched his eyes and prayed whatever would happen would turn out for the best.

She stopped for a moment, hearing something hit the floor... 'Twas a leather bound book that she quickly snatched up and tucked into her dress. Now was not the time to pry... Who knows what the master would do to the poor soul if he found him... She began to ascend the stairs, dragging him up with all the might she had in her frail body. She sighed heavily upon reaching the to step, falling to her knees. Ok, now would be a very good time for you to wake up... She muttered, poking his chest again, trying to remember her disciplines. She was taught well by he deceased master indeed, but still, the virus had it's effects. The light fluttering of wings created a slight breeze in the hallway, she was frustrated indeed knowing Master Wolfbane could return any moment.

He groans softly landing on the floor slightly awake as he groggily stirs. Hand moving along the marble floors. Her breeze arousing him slightly he wondered in his mid if he was dead, or is something happened. Senses still out of order he coughs curling up a bit coming too slightly, as if reviving from a deep slumber his mind a bit lost now as his horrible curse kicks in, and he begins to stir softly. Those soft slender features moving before her eyes as he weakly opens those icy blue eyes gazing through the forest of his jet black, and plum streaked hair. His vision coming to a soft focus as he notices the floor he is laying on quietly... He wasn't outside... Where was he? How long was he asleep those questions ran through his mind at a million miles an hour.

That twisted grin returned to her lips as she slowly pushed herself up. Those hues darted around once more as she offered him a hand. Good mourning sunshine... She said with a slight nod. C'mon, I'll take you somewhere where you can rest some more... If you want to anyway... She shrugged lightly. Or I can always serve you lady fingers and tea like a good hostess... She had to snicker at that one, her sense of humor was always a bit off.

He groans sitting up coughing again looking about his vision trying to fix itself, a shiver as he was looking up to her. She was so beautiful, yet he very, very sacred of what he had gotten himself into a he looked to her hand shakily, taking it in his pale grip.  "where...where am I?"  a simple question, he shivered and got staggerdly to his knees looking about.  "who are you?"

She helped him to his feet, that twisted grin converting to a slightly warm smile. My name is Terra Raven, well... The mad men in white coats call me T-666 as well as the red headed demon crafter and her Father. She said, her voice was of childlike innocence holding a hint of insanity. And you my dear, are at the Wolfbane Estate... Make yourself at home, but be careful... The walls... Hues darted wildly this time. They have eyes and ears... She finished with a nod. But no mind, c'mon, we're in Tzimisce territory.... And they may not like um.... Guests? She said, now dragging him down the long corridor.

"What? who? where?"  He was so lost his near incapacitation, moving about his head as he follows, he realizes he has a condition about loosing his memory. As he follows the beautiful Terra, he looked about then started repeating her name over and over in his mind. She didn't seem to want to hurt him, and he strove to at least go with her for now, but he felt like he was missing something but couldn't remember what as he followed like a lost little scared puppy. At sometimes his movements going with her. "all..all right then.." He takes a gulp.

 

 

Chapter 12--Lipstick and Bruises

 

Paris, France 2004

Streets of the City, 12:14 am

"Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart ...
Those who look outside ..dreams. Those who look inside ...awakens."

 

"What the fuck does that mean?" The mutter was pressed between a thin line of her otherwise full lips. The crimson smudged along red flesh as the gloss was awakened. The thin slip of paper was crumpled up by slender digits then tossed to the shining black of wet pavement as heavy boots made sure to punctuate the disgruntlement of the girl. "Spend fifty cents to gain a fortune? What a crock." she could have used that money to get a cup of tea later. But nooOooo! She had to be an optimist, trying to shed that veil of pessimistic views..but only for a moment.

Such was the way of this creature called Jodie. Always looking for something that isn't there, or never will be. Turning, she flipped up the collar of her leather jacket to prevent the light mist of rain from filtering down her back, then set out back down the street. She liked the night time. A glance upward had shown her a crescent moon, and a speckling of stars out tonight. The storm would be over soon, the light rain already threatening to overpower the fog and her vision as she focused upon the sidewalk, then along the deserted roadway. She struggled to remember this cities name.

 

After so long, they all looked the same. The people as well. A black blurr dotted with pasty, nameless faces that flowed around her, yet did not include her in their world. And she didn't want to be in it, not anymore. Not after the pain set in and her heart grew icy with the come of winter to her life.

But, she should be thankful. Why she had the comfort of her freedom, two able legs to get her around with, she could go anywhere she wanted to...and of course, that nifty talent of staying alive. Wasn't everyday that a somewhat runnerup to beauty could conveniently travel the world without fearing the unknown. No dresses to iron, no social engagements to smile her way through....nobody to answer to..or get beat up by...indeed, this was the life. She coughed. "Yeah, right. I need this life like I need a hole in my head." Which, at times didn't sound like a bad escape to her. But she had one plus on her side in that department..she loathed pain.

She looked up then as she neared the street corner, the red light flashing at her in anger as she stopped. Now, where am I? She looked over the green signs a moment, then gave a panning look up the street, then down into the mouth of the alleyway. Maybe she would rest now before venturing too far from shelter. The roads here were long, the stretch from city to city larger and larger. And very few cars to offer her jetting thumb a ride.

She shook off the cold as she headed on across the street. Other than the red and white writing on her faded Metallica tee shirt, she blended in with the night. All remained silent except for the light brush of leather clad thighs from worn gypsy leathers that graced her lower body. The alleyway still drew in her attention as she moved along. Shadows would be seen shifting in the dim light. As her eyes first noticed them, she casually turned her head to glance forward. Hands were slid into the sanctuary of her pockets. Left hand curling slim fingers around the touch of cold steel resting within. The button toyed with idly as the faint echos of her footsteps were joined by another.

Company..lovely. Wonder what this one wanted? All too soon she would find out, she thought. Let's see, there was Danny in Denmark, he wanted her backpack, but met the swift toe of her boot to his jaw instead. Then there was Henry in Hanover..She wondered if he would ever have children..and last but not least, good old Scott, from Scotland, of course. The yard had been a terrible nightmare for her. He wanted it all, her boots, her jacket, her shirt and her pants..and things hidden within. She wasn't willing to give up anything. She hoped he could swim. Would the coldness of the river stop the bleeding? Like she cared. Compassion had left her along time ago. Torment tearing away at the corners of her heart little by little as she grew to hate everything she once loved. She needed new things now, fresh things, things to make her feel wanted and alive.. not betrayed and lacking by an artificial escape.

As she dared a glance over her shoulder, she caught the rough expression from a man coming in behind her. She would dub this one Slim, she thought as eyes couldn't help but to notice the scarecrow fashion of his attire hanging from sickly limbs. Christ, he had a machete!! This would be an encounter to miss, hacked into itty bitty pieces did not sound appealing to her. She could see the headlines now.."Girl butchered in the grimy streets of Paris!!" What a hoot, she hoped they chose a good picture for the paper, one with her right profile, it was her best side, after all.

Panic set in. She was too weary to think, all she could do was run. The hard pounding against pavement was matched only by her heartbeat as she moved. She could here him mumbling, incoherently at that, into the fog. Stoned or drunk, she wasn't sticking around to find the hell out. Eyes frantically darted around for a place to duck into. The only lights that returned her haste were streetlights, barlights and angry "closed" signs. Great!! Bar it was as she darted across the deserted street. She wondered in a split second if running qualified as jaywalking..inwardly she laughed. Jail would be better than this, minus the dikes, of course.

She hit the door like a ton of bricks, but it hit back. Both hands skimmed out of her coat and found the smoothness of brass as they circled it and commenced to shaking it hard. Terror filled her as she found it locked..she looked back again, and yes, Slim had been right on her heels. The light washed over him then as he stepped up upon the curb, and what she saw next caused an outburst of giggles back in the quiet insanity of her mind. Umbrella!!! He was carrying a crooked umbrella.

She froze then..out of breath and almost out of her mind. Leaning against the door, she turned slowly to look to the sickly man again. His toothless grin shown to her, once she managed to look to his face. His outstretched hand offered the tattered gift to her, his face drawing down into a sad frown. Demented clown bore into her mind as she nodded lightly and lifted a trembling hand out to take the offering. "Thanks.." She managed to studder out to him between gasps. Then he nodded in return only to back away a step or two, as if he feared her presence. Jesus, where do these freaks come from...The lower corners of hell!!??!!

That was it, the rush of fear she had quickly bled over into rage. The nerve he had scaring her like that, only to give her an umbrella? A disfunctional one at that as she tried to open it, hoping it would appease him enough to leave. Three quarters of of the vinyl was missing, the thin strips of aluminum left naked, crooked and bent in the strangest of fashions. Without thinking, she closed the contraption and leaned away from the door as the sound of pounding was heard. She began to whack the old fart repeatedly with his so called gift, the profanity rolling from her lips like it was her native tongue. How dare him!!! Clubbing anyone?? What a night this turned out to be. She erased his name in her mind and scribbled in Pierre from Paris, then added it to the list with the others. As the frantic cries from her flogged stalker faded, along with his fleeing footsteps, she leaned up and tossed the umbrella to the ground. That was the end of that.

Meanwhile, the doors behind her had suddenly become open, and the bulky form that hoovered in it didn't look to inviting to her tired eyes. "Room?" She ask as she wiped the droplets of rain from her face. He nodded lightly as he eyed her. "Fifteen Franks, up front. Then ten after the first night.." Was his reply. In the background she could hear gigling laughter from feminine lips and a darker voice bleeding over to offer a moan of pleasure. She smiled fast to the man then, it held no humor with it as she shook her head. She didn't have that kind of money to blow sleeping in a whorehouse. Pun intended. "Thanks anyhow...asshole" She muttered as she turned and moved on down the sidewalk. Boy, almost midnight already and look at the fun she's had. Where was prince charming when you needed him? Guess Shay Dumpster would be it tonight. Oh well, at least she could find one that had a lid on it to shut the world out. Good night Gay Parrie...

"If I could be anything I would be a tear born in your eyes,

living on your cheeks, to die upon your lips"

So fresh so clean after the steamed waters had run dry over baren flesh, Jakob stepped out towel once again in rap. Baby blues glanced upward to the fogged mirror , hand in swipe removed to clear. A erflection no longer recognized but still adored. He had been torn against so many different things. Was he doing what was right for the tribe. Hands rushed soaked locks brushing them back away from fleshed features as give a ruffle amongst gaining that oh so original messy look. A mixture of hair wax tossed in the mix yes hair wax, a man had to keep that boyish charm admist. The night after all still young, he seeked to make his home coming worth while.

 

Regaurdless of the obsence of his sister Kara and right hand man Zachery. Still un rested that he hadn't called of yet. He wasn't much for disobediance and there would be hell to pay once that call was returned. Baren footsteps carried him to the bedroom , hand in hold of that towel about waist e sifted through attire...tossing to the bed a pair of tailored dress slacks , and a midnight blue short sleeve fitted T, v-neck. Paris top lined fashions of gucci and prada over rated. Though one had to admit you had at least one of each label within closet reguardless of gender. Boxers slipped within..satin black. To follow by pants and the pull over of the shirt. And then the gucci came into play slipped in belt about waist...as those heavy boots were slipped on as well. He hadn't time for glamour as that spiked wrist band of a watch was snapped about wrist. A bad habbit of having to know what time it was especially with the coming of the moon. A return home just in time.

 

He rushed the hall as the phone was slammed back into its rightful place...balcony doors left open, if anybody wished to be cowardly in take while he was absent then so be it, it was theres he hadn't time to waste on thieves when there remained those within the tribe to weed out. Namely his sister Kara. But no he wasn't still pissed over that, no not at all. And with that thought he was out the shutter of the door in close behind. The streets had always proven some obseen comfort he could never place. Beliverant viloence had alwas swepted the lower part of Paris, a change from the high glamour of the fashion world that boomed. Ridiculous really, all the clothing and such was dreadfully ugly and yet these toothpick's for women got away with making thousands just walking about. Perhaps he was in the wrong line of business. Was totally down to get butt naked to make a few thousand in one evening. Hands glided within pant pockets, no jacket to bare.

 

The night not so bad for chilled exstacy, it was more of an inconvieniance than a threat. Muscles tensed with a shiver as a casual stride was set. Pools narrowed to the loiterings of street rats plauging the small stores. More thieves, it seemed to be a running theme these days. Cries heard in back alleys you learned to drown out and ignore. The homly either crying over spilled liquor or getting their throat slashed for that sheltered cardboard box of a home. Shoulders lifted in shrug rather enjoying the torment of sounds. Tin garbages layed out and about holding flames within for warmth, the glow of flames danced in the alley above, calling to aid in giving warmth his steps carried him here. Rats scattered at feet to the quakes of his steps as boots halted , features illuminated with the glow of the fire. The alley was baren but a dumpster and then silence. Perfection. Hands snaked out from the clothed fabric they had inhabited and extended out. Deep breath inhaled as the warmth calmed shivers. Giving way for his mind to wonder in the peace.

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind...

 

She had that song stuck in her head for some reason. As the steady sounds of her steps were made in time to her soft hums, she reflected on what it was she needed to do. Where she was going from here was obivious, to find a safe place to catch a few Zzz's. But, idealistically, she had no clue about her path or her life. At one time, she thought about settling down in some quaint little town, find a steady job, maybe get a flat overlooking some seemingly pleasent view. But, mile after lonely mile, she found that she had no desire or reason to stick around anywhere.

Traveling over Europe had been her dream ever since she could remember. All her friends at school talked about it. They spoke of biking, hiking, taking a train..all the trivial things such as an educational experience, but for Jodie it would mean freedom..leading her own life. No glitz of big city lights and smoke filled dance clubs..no lazy days taking in the museums or going to stuffy play houses..no. Not this beauty. She craved the openness and the natural ambiance that meant tranquility to her. Her tormented soul craved it then. Camaflouge, makeup could only be spread so thin to hide the bruises. A made up doll to hide what a horrible homelife she had.

Often she thought about the what if's, then other times her daydreams shadowed the rest of her collective thoughts. Why was this was happening to her, of all people. She was a good girl, she got good grades, never got into trouble or ran with bad crowds. All in all, she was just your average girl next door that desperately needed to break away from an abusive stepfather. Alcohol was the demon that has ripped her world apart when she was twelve, and she was still paying for it now. On the run like she was, the states would only be her demise. She had never really been a violent person, but that night..something snapped.

Sleep found her quickly as the lidded dumpster became her sanctuary. The alley had been vacant, all for the burning bins in offerance to heat. The heavy smell of vomit and urine wasn't too appealing, but if that had drove the others away, more power to it. Paris and everything else could kiss her ass now. By daybreak she will have put this dreamscape behind her, only to face yet another city, and those haunting faces of uncertainty. The world around her faded away as she begun to dream, returning to some secret place in time.

The sense of falling the only thing apparent to her in it, before the crash of glass was head. The blurred image of a voiceless face came back to her with crystal sharpness. She feared as she bent to pick up the broken dish, the hard reality of his hand sending her toppling to the kitchen floor as he struck her. Sixteen held such better days for her, the prom-gone. The antics of a youthful age-gone. Lazy days loafing at the mall-all gone now. Her sobs rose above his voice of terror. He was towering over her, the bastard, posed and ready to strike again. She cried out for help, her mother passed out in the bedroom. Dolls and booze were her lover tonight. Not caring at all that her daughter was about to be beaten and raped by the monster she married, then left to bleed to death all over the black and white tile floor she bitched so much to have. It was the fashion of the uppercrust..bruises wouldn't be hidden by lipstick this time.

Fumbling fingers grasp for the counter as he fiddled to undo his belt. Words becoming nothing more than twisted perversion to her ears; promises to come. Her cries grew louder as she managed to stand upon trembling legs, hands knocking over yet more breakables in her frantic attempt to flee. But he caught her, he always did, pinning her tightly up against the counter with his pudgy body. Fists were useless as she pounded relently against him. He was grinning, he fucking loved this.

The sound of cotton tearing underneath groping fingers shook her even more. She fell away from herself then, everything around her growing larger as she cowered smaller. Her heartbeat in her ears nothing more than a sickening reminder she was alive, trembling lips pleading for it to all end. And, it did. The sting of her still searching fingers brought her back briefly, the slice to a delicate fingertip registered in her mind. And as the next few moments played before her eyes, Jodie left herself and gave in to the inner rage she possessed.

She lost count after the first ten slashes. The whiteness of his tee-shirt ran red before her eyes, but she didn't stop there, not until his gushing body collapsed to the tiled floor and spasmed it the last lingering moments of his life. A dazed look cast down upon the mess, momma would be pissed, so whatelse is new. The knife was dropped then..the steely echo reverberating in her mind as it hit the floor, satisfaction washed through her as she looked to the frozen stare upon his face. The glazed-over look of fear in his eyes forever locked away in her mind. She unknowingly grinned then.

Jodie tossed and turned, her feet thumping against the dumpster produced a hollow sound as something gripped her, the pressure on her chest making it harder to breath. Her clothes clung to her from the sweat as she twisted to relieve the tightness. Her efforts, useless. She woke up breathless, sitting up quickly. Another thump was heard as her head made contact with the lid and sent her back down on the plastic of her 'bed'. Shit, she was locked in..but that wasn't the worst of her troubles, as she moved to sit up like that, the shrieks from down below somewhere in the pile of trash told her she wasn't alone. She blinked a few times before she found the slim silver shape of her zippo and struck it. The orange-amber flame flickered to life as she dared to look around. And right there sitting on her chest had been the source of her lack of breath. A rat the size of a house cat stared back up at her, hungry look in his eye. Well, to her it was. She screamed then, as loud as she possibly could while her free hand tried to push up the heavy lid. Jagged strips of metal cut into her knuckles as her efforts got her nowhere. Booted feet pounded relentlessly on the sides as she feared this would be her tomb. That scared voice of her's calling out into the nothingness of the dumpster. "Help..."

 

Had his mind been so absent in the reality of the present times, shallow breaths lifted chest in rise and fall as his hands lingered briefly out in warmth. Hmm his mind at ease in escape and to search for memories of her just a moments breath... Vanessa. Just an illusion to him now, her fallen body flashing before his eyes, if he could weep it would have been for her solely. Her cries had filled the night like a shrieking banchee's call. He kept to himself the occasion b*tch in bed, meant nothing to him, family had meant nothing as well. Corrupt everyone had become even his own. Things needed to change. Suddenly the blood curtling screams were heard....as his head tossed in glance over his shoulder..not seeing a soul.

 

Rather odd indeed...as his hands dropped to his side....nostrils flared in scent ..the alley dank with dampness obscuring a keen sense of smell as he snapped again the cry for help...hollow sounding. He moved quickly..eyes shifting as he noticed the dumpster..steps carried in a hurried pace down the narrowed alleyway....the dumpster stenched with urine and the smell of utter obnoxiousness. Hands curled about its edged rim...baby blues piering within.. raised to tippy toes...he glanced down, to the youthful girl. She couldn't have been but 16 or so. Worried some, his tone kept low and mild as he spoke...  "Here give me your hand.... "  That calloused touch was extended then with words so easily rolled from his mouth.. "C'mon I wont bite, lets get you out of there."  Unlike his deminour but yet how could he resist. A knight in shinning armor, well more like gucci but still served the same purpose. ... He awaited the fragile creatures touch..

Stillness...Could this be the calm before the storm? Her heart surged faster as the voice came out of nowhere. Focused upon nothing but the rat, her breaths came in ragged gasps as she struggled to get away from it and all the other scurrying things down below. But, in an instant, everything ceased. Ears picking up the mild tone of a male voice, and the accent almost recognizable in some aspect of her psyche. Scared out of her wits, her instincts took over and a slim hand rose up from the plastic obscurities that she was slowly drowning in. Like something out of a bad B rated horror movie she reached to the dark heavens above, spidering digits held in their struggling, searching fashion upward for only a moment until contact..liquid heat rushed through her hand, then down her arm as palm caressed to palm in an instant. Grip confirmed by the cinching of slender fingers and she could feel the accession of her body from the mess.

Free'd from the disaster she found herself in, her slender body came up and out of the dumpster with the grace of a rag doll. She barely weighed 130 pounds wet, let alone her thick leather attire and backpack clinging in her free hand. She spiraled over the top only to spill down into the hardness of the ground, the concrete taking a bite out of her cheek and she hit. A sigh pressed from her lips as she simply lay there a moment or two, gathering her wits and her composure. Her hand was the first to react, unwilling to let go of the instant salvation, but she did. As Jodie rolled over to her side, she reached up to wisp a few sweat laden strands of dark locks from her face. She trembled still. Parting the sea of silk, a rather wide pair of chocolate hues dared sneak a glance upward to her rescuer. A blink issued then as she took notice of the man.

Casual dress, but tasteful. Not your average scarecrow on the street corner. Unlike she was. She sighed yet again as she struggled to sit up. She was a wreck and she knew it. Heh, why on earth was she fretting over what he would think of her? He had been out in the alley as well...as that thought registered in her mind, the red warning lights of caution began to flash in her mind...her eyes darted back to the ground as she spoke barly above a whisper. "Rats..everywhere...they were crawling all over me...couldn't get them off". The frightened set of doe eyes rose up to challange his once more, the welling of unshed tears turned hues to liquid glass. She was about to lose it, and right in front of a stranger. Panic set in.

The black and white inks had cried murderous intents these lingering past nights. From your common fat man who can't get a date, so he decides to rape away any self respect a women has, to the high quality taste of beggers cant be chosers, the common thief reaper of homes strikes again. Pathetically annoying, distasteful that these mortal laws that are written to protect. Funny how they seem to do the opposite. Always a fine thin between good and bad and yet always a loop hole wasnt there. After all where else could you murder and get away with it? Especially good ole Paris street rats.. ah the diamonds in the rough. Potential lies in grasp , but often is un reachable due to self doubt, or lack of self worth. If only they weren't labeled, but how beautiful they always were. There raw phsyic awaiting just the opportunity to be set free from the desolate surroundings they were fated to walk. Ghosts themselves. Often unseen, unheard. You only had to listen a habit most did not bare the patience to do.

That calloused hand, rough about it's edges slipped like silk however to grasp hers tightly. Those arms in flex gently pulled her from that wasteland below. Noisely removed her slender form slipped to the ground like a fragile butterfly who had lost her wings. The scent of fear surrounded her , as to such he kept those baby blues gentle and opened. Spokes of silver caught within them in blink. Pools narrowed a bit intrigued, though the poor thing was soaked and it was cool in the night. Not a star in the sky cascaded above and yet no clouds. The moon was coming soon enough within the days ahead..his canvas remained expressionless, not one for much emotion though in her slip she had stumbled, the scent of blood obvious with the scuff. Nostrils flared as he glanced away briefly eyes eclipsed shut to the richness..as there touches parted.

Focused returned her markening ignored for the time..as he crouched down to her level..elbows rested on those parted knees outward.. "Shh I won't hurt you..the rats are gone, promise. .Let's have a look at that scrape.. Mon Ami " Fingertips brushed against her jawline guiding her features to turn, the scuff nothing significant but would need taking care of none the less. as he gave a back handed brush to the opposite cheek..  "Come let me help you up, the night air is cold , you will get sick staying out here like this"  His hand snaked beneath her under arm sliding through as the other used to guide her to a stance slowly... he held on until she was confideant on her own.  "It's not safe in these parts for you, you do realize this don't you? "  In the distance you could hear the onset of gun fire, not uncommon in these back alley parts. The air polluted not with fog but with bullets in flight often times. His touch to leave her once more now that she was settled on footings...as his hands slipped in clasped behind his back...he turned away a brief glance given back to her.  "I can offer warmth and a change of clothing if you wish...it is your choice to follow"  And with such he waited not for her words but started to walk slowly..to see if a figure would catch up or once more become that diamond in the rough, tucked away within the streets. Unheard of, unseen.

Vulnerable, yet she was left with a choice. That in it's own right would be her deciding factor to trust. The aching in her cheek stilled as he touched against her chin, then the light trace of warm digits against her chilled skin could only leave a shiver to linger against her spine. All these tale-tell things reminding her that she still was alive, and shyaway glance it's aftermath. The iridescent mask of veiled seclusion slipped from her then as thin body yielded to sure hands that slipped beneath her in aide to the slow upright shift of her body. Those eyes never seeking anything but the shadowed edges of his face as she listened to soft words of reassurance. His strong features had been an instant magnet to her, but she fought off staring with fear of rudness. His brooding good looks strange to her, yet not. Eyes held their own silent direction as they met her gaze once, maybe twice. The soft scent of masculinity filling her nostrils with the closeness before he fled to a comfortable distance. Slender frame took a moment or two to gather her momentum before she drew in soft breath, then exhaled. "..Thanks.." Before falling back into the silence of his presence.

Awkwardness moved in, her fear but a soft marr to her mind in thought. She was worse for ware, left alone to brave the cruel world, her mind tried desperately to think back when a kind word or even the hints of compassion were shown to her. She drew a blank. Yes, she was skeptical of him, lessons before hard earned in heeding this man. But, in the same retrospect, she didn't fit any MO that she has yet to come across. Does that make her an authority on the deranged? No, but enough to silently question his intentions. Maybe there weren't any to start with, a tiny voice quaked inside her, screaming to overpower the doubtful mind. She listened attentively, then watched as he simply began to walk off, leaving her with that choice. A hand instantly reached up to run along the curve of her cheek, minicing the path his own warmth had traced moments before.

Not really knowing what compelled her then..if it was the fear or the fact she was tired and worn out from traveling, but this man with his thoughtful expression, and bidding words held appeal to her. The soft sounds of her boots echoed as she moved carefully in his wake. Struggling for balance of the recent nightmare of her sleep, she kept her distance at first, the sound of faint gun fire off in the distance distracting her attention until it called to them no more. When she returned her attention to him, their steps matched as she drew the distance between them closer. Inquiring mind was reeling in the same moment as she spoke, a thousand thoughts struggling to get out. "Where are we going...I mean..is it far?" Her lower lip nipped at by the soft curves of her pearly whites. Her body held shivers in protest to the chill. Once she was out in the openness of the street, the night breeze teased it's bitterness against her face, cheeks flushing to a rosy depth quickly.

Other than the soft, white plumbs of their breath, the night around them remained unmarred. Slim hand drew her backpack up tighter against the curve of her hip. All that was her life.. dwindled down to nothing but a tiny leather satchel fastened with safety pins. The girl not much more fit for wear braving against the harshness of a cruel world. The youthfulness of her age hidden well within the harshness masked upon her features. All expect for those eyes, and they were shining lamps of curiosity as they held him in their sights.

 

Bleek was the future, the so called war never craved. Unlike everyone believes Jacob wanted serentity just as the next, just with the prize of having power with that peace. Though he no longer knew other than for his own purposes what he was fighting for. Was it for the commoner of a street rat to have a place to turn to when there was no other. For his sister and family, who have turned there backs on him. Even Zachery hadn't responded like he usually did, was he with Kara? Unfortunetly in this cause Kara's ::cough:: finer qualities had more barre over Zachery obviously than Jacob. Disguised with calmness was his features indefinetly, though within the turmoil stirred always unsettled. Yet a certain calmness was brought as he heard the light treds keeping there distance at first behind him, lips coiled to a sneering smirk as he gave a cant downwards a bit with his head and then fine tuned it to a small glance to peer back to her unnoticed. So innocent she seemed, therefore she couldn''t have been of an older age. Those locks though lifeless resembled bars of her encagement. A dove awaiting to be set free. Her movements held reserve though she was still fearful undoubtidly.

The walk persisted only moments longer, He couldn't possibly take her home, nor any where near the pack. She would have been eaten alive. Hmmm literally. This one was different. He rendered a sort of protectivness against her. A soft mumbling to himself spread before he answered her questioning.. -whisper- "What am I getting myself into"  If the pack realized what he was doing, certainly there would be talk..if not more, he cleared his throat as a deep breath was drawn in a form of tia chi to basically tell himself to calm the hell down, nervous? Jacob never....but then again this was different, she was different. "Ahem.. Come its not much longer , right over here.."  The park layed across the cobblestoned pathway, from the entrance to the underground. He knew not where else she could stay where no one would find her. Of coarse the pack knew of business of such going on's merely in the states. He hadn't devoured the some what of an expansion..ah yes a chain I guess one would call it. How sadistic , a chain of drugs, weapons, and murder mayhem.

 

Some were good at bagging grocery's , Jacob happened to be good at this. Though what defines a man....his work? Non. Perhaps in the blue collar industry of labels and money. But in his world , to his pack it was what he did and how he went going about doing it. To be torn in so many directions, true one would go mad. What if you were already there? Then where do you go? There wasn't much to see, a gated entrance of raised grounds teporarily to there right. He gave a nod of his head in the gates directions...as he moved over to them, that masculine touch extended sliped around a bar gripping tightly gave it a jiggle to release. As it opened. He glanced back...knowing she would be hesitant, he extended his hand to her.  .. "Come, it is safer than elsewhere I can take you. Trust me"  If she hadn't some form of trust she would have never stepped behind him in following...again it was up to her to chose her path. One lead to unknown possibilites and the other lead to the streets back to being the dumpster chic.

Footfalls drew silent as dark hues lifted up in observation to her new friend. the rusted gate caught her eye as she could only watch as he fiddled with it. She tilted her gaze around, panning out into the irreverence of the night like she was keeping watch before she returned dark hues to his shadowed features. For some strange reason this was beginning to feel like an adventure in the making. Heh, would she be so nieve to fall for the old cloak and dagger in gay parrie? A soft flutter of her brow was given as she pondered on that thought...quite tempting it was to her. Get a grip, Jodie..he could be jack the ripper for all you know..yeah right. Murder had stepped up in the world then. Besides, he wouldn't go to all this trouble..she smelled to high heaven, she looked like she just escaped from an insane asylum, and to top it all off, she was standing here having a mental argument with those little voices in her head. She needed to seek help when this was all over with.

His words startled her, she blinked. The extention of his hand was wagered with both a scrutinizing eye and caculating mind. If she didn't know better, she would think he wanted to hide her, or better yet, hide them both from some devious plot he was scheming. A wife perhaps..but then again, why on earth would he invite a total stranger into his home, maybe he feared her. This brought the makings of a half smile to her features as she leaned over and let her hand reach out to touch his, fingers lightly skimming against his for a moment before it was cupped lightly. Feet then decended into the strange opening into the ground, half above and have buried. Almost tombish in nature.

 

Again, her thoughts shifted to a mystery. he soft accent of that southern belle charm finally gave way as the fear subsided and her quietness was broken. "Excuse me, mister..I don't mean to be ungrateful or anything, but.." She began, that voice growing stronger with each word. She could do this, after all, nothing had rattled her chain thus far in her travels, why was he different? Within her question was found the answer. Free hand moved to brush wet locks from her face as she tilted her head, questionable expression creasing her features. "you seem to be going to alot of trouble for me.." She continued to talk while she moved, following him where ever he would lead her, those curious orbs darting around in the faint light to steal peeks of her new surroundings. "I...I just don't want you to put yourself out, I'll be gone by first light, ..promise..." She shrugged her shoulder as she dodged a random scattering of cobwebs to the corner of the small enclave, if Lara Croft got her start in places similar to this, it would be a piece a cake for her.

Hadn't that steel gate give way, perhaps he would have looked the fool. Most likely not, in his demenor of casual ecstasy he would have found a way to open the bars even if it meant that idle boost of testosterone, -trumpets sound- Spider Man. Always was partial to the web slinger. Not much for the incredible hulk, or batman even. Prefer a bit of color to my tights, if I am to be caught dead within them. Although im sure they have there perks, with the ladies and all. It's the sensation of being swept within mystery. An enigma never solved...exploring that unknown...to be frank chics dig it. It's that hard to get, roughed edge bad boy every b*tch hates to want. Alright perhaps a bit over board. Jacob of all new how to wear masks and wear them well. Adhering to their wants and distastes, this one so plainly seen. She had taken captive to that knight in shinning armor, well gucci; close enough. So how hard would it really be? Obvious physical attraction lacked, out of the goodness of his heart did he aid to her? Please. There was always an underlined motive, he was a guy what do you expect. Rose petals of fragrant aroma spread to delight. Her body to be worshiped like the goddess's temple - daily, nightly. To be on bended knee, beckoned in prayer to taste of the goddess's devine pleasures? How do the homies on the street say it? Like whoa?

Ridiculous women these days and there fantasys. One romeo and juliet movie and they think you'll die for them. It would seem his mind had wondered off a bit, habit when the stress level peeked. He furrowed a brow to that "women" of a look he received. Lips softened a bit to a smile, perhaps a bit more inviting verses a sarcastic smirk that toyed the notion of alternative motives. He knew what she was thinking, a wife and kids , a family perhaps. She was to be his taunt of a school girl wench. The thought entertaining. Especially if she was down for the plaid and pigtails. He gently licked his lip that pink muscle slipping over and across that upper lip gently wetting it's surface. And there it was, his hand felt the palpable caress of pure softness only a women's touch could offer. Mister? he blinked gently a soft chuckle escaped  "You make me seem old. Do I look the part of a Mister? Please Jakob is fine" That thick masculine physic spilling in his words. She was young indeed, perhaps neive on the other hand maybe not so. Did she have motives other than a clean shower and shelter for the eve?

He could care less he was sparked with imagination held within her presence. Hands clasped he held her delicate touch and guided the tunnels a bit narrow made way to a clearing...professionally decored? one could wish. Tried a few times to have that british invasion people in? Trading Spaces was it? Declined once they saw the words...Sewer Tunnels, jerks. The sewers led to the abandoned underground. Lavishly decored. Crimsons of crushed velvet and black fur. El Hotel de Underground. Rooms enough for an army. Vastly different in taste. Home away from home. As they entered the main sitting room, section couching of black leather, sleek in style smooth in touch. Candle light danced against the painted cement of the walls. Warm colors illuded that dreamy sensation of welcome. A bit over? Not for lap of luxury he was diseased with. His hand quickly released her own, his own fingertips in dancing agaisnt hers before they parted.

 

"Your words of concern aren't needed. Clean bedding down the hall, pick a room to your liking. As for a shower down the corridor there and to the right. Clothing should be in the rooms. Find something to fit or suit its purpose. You are free to leave whenever you wish. "  Short and sweet, however not the way he normally was, but he once layed in her shoes a felt connection? he knew not what the hell it was as he un buttoned the top few buttons of that shirt letting loose a bit he moved to the desk within the corner of the main room. It was as close to paradise as he could get. The silence poisonous as a black widows bite. Pools lightened instantly calmed here, as he settled and gave a kick of those boots up upon the desk crossed at ankles...he grabbed the Newspaper a flick given in opening, he read.

The echoes of my boots stopped with the drone pounding in my ears when I realized how out of touch I had become with everyone, let alone the outside world. The lavious furnishings of the cave..and that was just what it was..drifted into my eyesight. In the foggy recesses of my mind crept a light of knowledge almost forgotten. Of how normal people dwelled. Well, not exactly in caves, but in comfort. I realized then just how bad my situation was. Dire straights even. I had resorted to sharing a dumpster, and with rats at that. I knew they were there, yet I went though the motions much like sleep walking. I had become robotic in my life. No desire to live, so I allowed my life to lead me. And some of the places weren't fit for a subdued person such as myself. By all rights, I should be back in my home, getting on with my ho hum life in squaresville, USA, instead of playing the part of a brave young woman against the world image. In truth, it sucked, and as the reality of this small oasis in my eyes was unveiled in all it's grandeur, my so called life up until now made me sick.

Shame washed over me as I listened to him softly dictating to me, letting me know just what necessities I had been so deprived of lately. I hoped then that food would be added to the list, but beggars couldn't be that choosy, now can they? But, I think the remark about 'my concern wasn't needed' stung greater than the concrete kiss upon my cheek. I had forfeited my rights as a human by letting myself get caught up in my mind's fantasy life of freedom. It most certainly came with a hefty price. My pride. Dark eyes only lifted once to him to nod in recognition to his directives. Here was a man that probably spent a great deal of time with people like me, the undesirables. I shouldn't act all concerned when I really could give a shit why he was doing it, just that he was and hopefully it was going to continue. I would try to repay my debt in time. That was the true masque of my heart. Gratitude. Not the calloused, black glitter that sported a stitched on smile to this illusion.

As a nervous scan of the interior room was given again, I wondered just how many had stood right where I was? If he had some understanding of what it was like. But, his actions and his demeanor spoke more to me than any words could convey. Trust was not an option from that moment forward, it was a necessity in reguards to him. In some abstract way, I would grow to depend on him. Any other time, I would have called him an asshole and stormed out of his presence for making me feel lesser than a human being. I mean, get real, I was sleeping in a trash bin with rats, for christ's sake. That was pretty damn bad. But, I knew then that trust was a must if I was ever going to pull myself up and breathe in the warmth of self esteem in a world that's grown so cold.

I turned then as silence flooded the air about us, nothing left to say and really I was glad, the uncomfortableness I experienced briefly upon entering had faded away as awkwardness drifted in. I scurried away then, down the corridor as my eyes gave in to eagerness of exploration to this strange and exotic place. The hallway seemed to go on forever, and even though I had be led in through the sewers, this was far from it. Even the air seemed to be a degree or two fresher. Strange.

Like Alice through the looking glass, this wondrous place seemed larger than life in my humble eyes. Now this, I dubbed as I moved past the first room, was an escape from reality. No, I wouldn't use it as a crutch to replace my street roaming days. No no, the gentleness of mint silk and sleek fabic of purple velvet caught my attention, a wonton smile soon emerged. I knew I'd look no further than this very room. The delicate curve of the fine cherry furniture and the inviting arch of the canopied bed calling out to a part of me that was left alone in the currents of time. This would be my sanctuary.

I blinked myself out of the dreamscape, my body screaming out that it was in need of rest and soon. My legs fell into their silent protest as well as I leaned over to drop both my pack and my jacket to the edge of the doorway. I'd need to hurry to get my clothing for the night, for I knew the moment the water washed the grime from my body, the softness of the canpoy bed would be beckoning me into slumber. The water was inviting, the fact it was actually hot, almost sinful. I stood under the open spray, head tilted downward in motionless submission. Closing my eyes, I could feel the path of every tiny droplet clinging and caressing against my body. The fatigue amplified three fold. The dirt and grime swirling away down into the nothingness where it belonged as my creamy complexion returned from it's long overdue abscense.

I had many tempting creams and lotions to tease my senses as I dabbed some here and there on the rough edges. Wiping away the fog across the mirror, I looked upon my image for the first time in months. I mean really looked. The stranger that stared back almost frightened me. I didn't like what I saw. The sparkle in my eyes lacking, the amusing expression of youth, fleeing. I decided then that this girl needed a makeover from head to toe, and soon. But, not tonight. A fingertip traced over the scratch to my cheek, it stung. Flinching more from the noticable scratch marks upon the back of my hand and wrist, I had only my friend the rat to blame there. Becoming his midnight snack turned my stomach again. Never would I allow myself to sink that low again. As the gods were my witness this night, and the stranger that stood before me in the mirror would attest, if I had to claw and fight every step of the way..I would not fall again.

As the towel was slipped from around my slender torso, and the softness of feminine cotton pj's were slid on, I gave a thought to the man sitting just out to the front room. Jakob..I didn't recall ever knowing anyone by that name. Just as well, a new endeavor it would be, I was through with the old way. Bare feet made no sound as I emerged back to where he sat. I lingered in the shadowy alcove as I let my hands make one final pass against my wet locks, fingers fanned the clean silken strands out to curve neatly before they were tucked behind each ear. The masque of the eve dropped as heart shaped face and cupid bow lips were left exposed fully. I cleared my throat as I shifted closer, enough to allow the candlelight to illuminate my pale visage before him. Soft cotton now caressed subtle curves that before went hidden underneath tomboyish attire. I lifted a hand to hide the scratches on my cheek as I couldn't bring myself to tell him that a rat had bitten me. I cringed at the thought of the grems, or rabies even. "I'm all done now..guess I'll go crash.." A tilt of my head was issued as dark eyes stayed turned to him for a moment longer before I slipped back into the recluise of the dark hallway, then found the bed once more. It wasn't too long until slumber had tugged me over into the dark abyss.

The times had grown acustomed to caution. If a lady was ever invited back to another's place it was implied that obvious going on's would be inquered. Ah so different now. A women can be invited back to merely cook a meal. Do laundry. Or even perhaps just to sleep. Ever watchful though the intent always there. A man perfectly capable of doing everything on his own. This apparently different by all means. What the hell was I thinking in the first place. If the pack even came close to knowing of her, let alone about her. That would be the end of it. The end of what he has become acustomed to. I watched her silhouette pass down the hall, baby blues in lift to follow still settled at the desk. Blantenly obvious that there was so much more to her. Wrong perhaps about that fragile butterfly , wings adored her side this angelical creature; if only she could fly. The paper given a flick in opening with a snap of wrists.

Eyes scanned headlines, the rains fallen crimson spread through out the inked canvas. A light shake of the head given. Always one for delicate tastes. This had gotten utterly ridiculous. The moon but a night away now. Soon the papers would shed more blood. These however weren't of his pack. He lacked any intrigue with the taunting sheer laziness of these attacks. Un careful and evidentally sloppy, eyes narrowed as he continued to read the descriptions. The black and white picture convayed a slender formed women meekly tossed into a ditch. Clothes asunder, left as if she were raped of any and all dignity.

 

Eyes widened as I read of the parellel markenings of the neck. An amused cluster of laughs spilled..to the thought mumbling to self.  "Unimaginative pricks..all of them." Indeed perhaps they should have after all these centuries gained a bit of creativness with there feedings. After all the typical stereotype of the vampire was the flesh tasted of the neck. How simple. Which had it been... I wondered. Blade or Antoine. Pigged headed mungrils always thinking there superiority was the social peek of Paris. Who speak of the lycans as if animal is the only thing to define our being. Yet there efforts to exterminate us do not have their perks, evident we are a threat like it or not. I wonder if they are aware of my return. This battle grew weak and lacked any form of a war. It was evident that Kara's betrayal would not go unoticed. Zachery might as well have tightened the noose about his neck himself. I suppose if you wish things done it best to do them yourself. That paper was quickly closed and carelessly thrown to the desks smooth surface. I needed an edge. Something to gain Vincent's attention. A coy grin dressed his lips quickly. Bethany...courages little wench. Daddy's hand that rocks the cradle. She was too involved...too loyal there was no opportunity there.

 

And who could forget the slutted Rachyl... who quivers with the grounds that Blade walks. Then who was left.....that fingertip left to tap against his chins peek ever deep in thought. Zeta....her name seemed easily thrown out there....devious in her ways. A broken heart , a path to tred ever so lightly on. Where did her loyalties lie to begin with? Certainly not at the hands stained with her soul mates blood?

Interesting enough...I heard the soft peds of her feet..pausing as if hesitant a moment. The glass always seen as half full, never empty. But it wasn't about me at the moment, what was she thinking and why had she really agreed to come here. Not knowing of the danger that she had willingly accepted by just following me to this place; ah, yes. She would make a perfect replacement for old Zachery...soon, very soon.

Chapter 13--Schemes Run Solid: The Underground

 

Paris, France 2004

Get of Fernis Underground, 9:10 pm

Evident that the daily activity of the Underground had progressed to the point where hired help was a neccesity. He settled at the desk activily pen in script, to send to the Classifieds. That pen lifted to chew in torment a bit on its capped end..as his foot tapped annoyingly aggressive. What to write, what to write. Can't be honest in these things, I mean put it out there dirty business seeks help have to be willing to kill people. I am sure responses would be given, just not of the working class type. Though an ex-con here and there wasn't bad to toss around if need be. He scribbled a bit..scratched the idea out.....scribbled again....and crossed it out once more. How the hell do you recruit for this shit. Best shot was the web. Assasins always made themselves known freely there. Access never denied. He pondered a bit thinking about the movie Kill Bill....why couldn't all females be like that chineese chic. Hot wasn't the word for her. Too bad half of her head was sliced and diced...pretty little thing and such a bad ass. His mind had slipped a bit from its objectives...damn women always a distraction.

He needed a means to get people's attention. The underground needed a defense mechanizm. A club - perhaps played out but would of coarse be perfect. After the underground had the Governor's FULL support. After all who else would endeavor his bad habbits of late night bitches and lines he blows with ease. The fat man behind the donuts so to speak, with all the green in the world if only Paris new of his dirty little secrets. Twelve year old girls for pleasure....I tried to sneak him Jenny Craig's number once, but that seemed obsolete. He figured since I fed his habits as is , there was no need to change. Personally I find it all rather repulsing, but his money is just as good as anyone else's so he is ignored.

Recently the old cathedral was purchased toying with a few cover up ideas... he leaned back in seating. Hands folded in thought behind his neck. Perfection, exquisite a club then. Cathedral styled ceilings and stained glass...."forgive me father for I have sinned " soft whispers emerged from slightly parted lips.. divine. The drugs and weapons were easily handled. More interesting was the contracts. He blinked ..suddenly inspiration struck.. Hands quickly unfolded, as that pen was rushed to paper scribling the words..RED RUM down. The cell in hand, with a flick opened. Voice activated.... " Tony with no last name " good old Tony if anyone could make shit happen it was him.

 

" Y'ello - Talk to Me "
" Eh Tony - it's me Jacob , whats Popin? Listen I need you to take some money....and do meh a Favor. Hold on Hold on.. "

 

He pulled the phone away from his ear to press #70 - blocking any tracking of the call. "Alright listen, I need that Cathedral on 5th Ave Spruced up - no holding back understood. I mean it unlimited accounts expendable. Listen make sure the old access to the subway system is in tact - its extremly important. I need it ready within the Month. Ca-peech."

"Ay yo---oh ay No problem Jacob you knows how I roll - Give me a month it will be set"
"Alright - Thanks Tone...Later"
"Aiight - Later Man"

 

The phone was flipped shut - and thrown to the desk. A bit of peace of mind. That matter was out of the way. The pile of paper work was stacked a mile high, alright a bit of exaggeration. He sifted through a few of the contracts... the gorey details left out of coarse...a simple confirmed unconfirmed was all he wanted to know about each case. Desperate how some people were..a few of the cases he left ontop of the desk to go through since there had been a few complications so to speak. A snag here a snip there. One case in particular had caught his eye. Encased with boss writing -red ink stained the letters that spelled out her name..Audrey Brigette Valentina-Wolfbane his finger tips traced over the letters gently the name sent chills down his spine. The folder opened with ease as pools restricted themselves to the text within. A fighter no doubt she had been...the reasoning not clearly defined. He continued to read on, the contract completed so many years ago, ridiculous how extent his back log had been. He never was a very good book keeper. Eyes widened ...as he double took the name... familar and yet so distant..Wolfbane.....Wolfbane.. well anyways it would come later..eyes were weary given a rub as the file was left opened ontop of the desk for another day.

Enough business had been conducted for the day...The doved angel lay asleep a few rooms down, his diamond in the rough. Not a whispered had been uttered all night he wondered if she was alright. Although tempted to disturb he would not the late hours as the clock struck 3am. Dawn would be coming soon enough. Eyes grew heavy in there lids...no time for formality of getting un clothed...his head layed to rest ontop of the desk...eyes in close as the sand man entered into nightmares...worse than facing freddy himself. Tides of tornment of an uneased mind. Guilt caught up? Maybe. Or was it the opposite the role of a victum played out, family betrayal known. His dreams spoke of Kara's lust for the enemy. Deepened within he knew the ties that binded them, but still the same blood was goign to be shed one way or another. Sweet Nightmares.

 

Chapter 14--Home Sweet Home

 

Stationside, Romania 2004

Wolfbane Estate, Nightfall
Upon returning home to the estates,she was very tired and worried of her masters condition.She would retire to her room,to rest before she had to keep an eye on the master as he slept.The room spelled of dust,it had been to long,those long black laced curtains seemed grey.Her bed covered in dark satin sheets and a thick silk blanket,she would remove all clothing and climb in stretching out she would relax taking in a deep breath of stale air,her eyes would fall closed as she would dream of her masters embrace. She would rise and stretch making her way to her closet,she would slide on some tight blue jeans and a sheer white tank top,making her way to her masters bedroom,a slight tap on the door to make her presence known and she would push the door open,those soft green hues would peer about as she would climb upon his bed awaiting his arrival for slumber,with a deep sigh she would look around the room,seeing pictures and what not a few books here and there,she seemed useless as she had not been asked to accompany the master in many days.She would slouch a bit as she leaned back holding her self up with her hands,watching the door she waited.

 

 

Chapter 14--Taming of the Shrew

 

Stationside, Romania 2004

Wolfbane Estate, 7:30 pm
Many guests had arrived to his beloved estate prior, the parlor and downstairs foyer littered with bodies of Kindred and Kane alike as this eve he came out of his room to mingle. Blade wasn't really expecting a leisurely family gathering, considering the many elders that his father was on good terms with. It was their motives he often questioned. The presence of Marcus had enraged him, a heated confrontation from the moment their paths crossed had left him rather an outcast with some of the elders. With his father still in isloation, many of his questions and concerns went unanswered as to why Marcus had became an addition to his home. And his talk of a woman that was entertaining the boudoir of his father had upset him as well. All he could do now was pace about until he was summonsed. He hated that part with a passion.

Finding nothing of any interest among the sea of the gawking covenettes, he headed off downstairs to check upon his newest endeavor. A state of the art surveillance and security system for a very outdated 13th century gothic style house. Tacky, yes, but he didn't care. He cursed himself for not getting this kind of thing installed years ago. But, since his father had insisted on inviting the biggest part of the Sabbat here into their home, it was only right that he made sure the family heirloom was kept safe. Several of his trusted henchmen were still fast at work getting the equpiment set up, and as Blade stepped into the control room, he lingered to the doorway as his eyes gave a sweeping glance over the lit monitors.

Catching sight of Knox to the corner of the desk, he nodded to him as he approached. "Are we online yet?" That scrutinizing gaze lifted back up to the row of monitors once more as they continuely flipped up black and white shots of the mansion and the surrounding grounds at random. Knox nodded and directed his master to the mainframe before the sea of equipment, eager to show him their accomplishments. Blade took a seat and began running a few system checks and whatnot, then nodded, sated in their progress. "Very good work, Knox. I expect everything will be functioning come time for this ritual bash to begin, no?" A pleased nod was executed him by the henchman. With this, Blade stood and shook the man's hand. "That's when we'll see if the junk is worth the price I paid. Keep me posted of the progress" He offered in retreat from the small room, pausing only briefly to reach over and lift up one of the two way walkie talkies that lined the wall. It was clipped upon his belt as he moved back off into the darkness of the hallway.

Even in the drab enclosure of the mansion, the night was calling to him. Restless he became more and more behind the dark walls and inkings. Two days in and he was already feeling the pressure of past hauntings. Blade just hated to sit around and wait. It made him feel inferior..something that, given his life prior to his homcoming, just wouldn't do. The transition was taking too long for him. As he moved away from the security booth and connecting hallway, he glanced to the openness of the garage then inched his way deeper into the concrete darkness. As his hand found the sleek crome of his long lost friend, he grinned and zipped up his leather jacket. A perfect night for a ride. He hadn't been out on this thing in ages, and tonight he would own the road. With no set course in mind, he fled the gated security of the estate and headed north, towards the mountains.

A few candles were lit within Kara's small but humble shop. There was enough light to show from the outside that there was someone in the mist of the place moving about. This shop sat slightly high upon that hill and was easily visable from the road..A soft but haunting tune could be heard if you were standing just inches from that main door. Kara was off once again in her own little world of her. So often...much to often shes been like this. Thinking to herself just what does her brother want with those maps. A light shrug was given to herself more than anything. -sw- "No matter. He won't get his dirty fingers upon them. "

The rumble of duel pipes could be heard as he slowed along the scattering of businesses to the small town. Coming to a stop, he shut the bike off for a moment as the faceless stranger panned around, dark gaze viewing the area underneath his helmet. He remembered it much the same as he found it. A place where they rolled up the streets come nightfall. That brought a slight smirk upon his shielded features as he searched for a place to pull off. The only source of light being atop the hill, and with the silence came a soft tune that was picked up faintly in the currents of the breeze. Starting the bike, he roared on up the road, twisting about the snaky curves until he came to an abrupt and screeching halt before the front of the shop. The rider then looked about before climbing off the settling steel beast. He tugged his helmet off next as it was lay upon the seat. Hands instantly fled for the sanctuary of his pockets as he moved through the door, the light wash of candlelight almost illuminating him.

Motorcycle? A puzzled look came over her face as she slipped through those beaded curtains of hers. Eyes narrowed. Jakob sent Zach to try and get the maps oh lovely.. She let out a low growl...seemed to be more of a warning for Zach to show that she was not in a friendly mood tonight. She quickly picked up a lit candle and used that light to lead her out into view of the male who she thought would be Zach.: " Zachary. Of all lycans you should know I will never fol----"  Blink....blink. Ok so this male was not Zach. Great. She pulled in her bottom lip a bit as her upper teeth would start to nip upon it. She cleared her throat softly as she moved to keep a good distance between herself and the unknown male... He held a foul smell to him though. And Kara knew just the scent. " Its late. So if you have business here with me, I ask that you make it quick."

Midway though the door the incense wharfed into his nostrils, almost burning his delicate sense of smell, hands were in motion as the soft sound of metal was heard. Unzipping his jacket, that gaze shot around to the array of books and occult oddities scattered along the shelves. Hmm..might prove to be interesting, anything he could get his hands on about the art of magick and necromancy was a welcomed treat. He was almost pleased he had stopped until another scent hit his nose about the time ears picked up on a soft...growl? Oh, yes yes. He had almost forgotten, this was dog country. Of course, silly idiot. The words of the woman drifted around him as he stopped in his tracks. The baggy BDU style pants he wore and simple white tee shirt held the packaging of any run of the mill male around these parts, but the darkness about his eyes told otherwise. They were obsidian and as shimmering as glass. Unruly, dark locks were haphazardly raked out of his face as they hit across his shoulders again. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, the sign said that your open, shall I go out and come back in again..we can start over mayhaps?"  The tone of his voice almost like the onset of thunder, the amusing smirk that played upon brooding features couldn't hide the fact he was going to enjoy this visit, whatever the young woman was called, but he already knew what she was.

 

Bold beautiful chestnut colored eyes locked upon the male. Slightly she would shift her weight ready to attack and the drop of a pin. Eyes narrowed a bit. But not in a evil manner. She was taking in all his features and mostly those cold black eyes. Raven locks of her own seemed to fall within her view. That free hand she had came up to flick a few from her face yet a few were still there hiding parts of her face. Dog country eh? Oh sweet of him to even say such a thing. Alight he didn't really say it.. just thought about it. She wrinkled her nose a bit as she gave a soft nod to him. A second chance...He was going to give her a second chance? Well hell thats more than what her own blood gave her. A very very faint smile pressed to those full lips as she stood there awaiting for him to leave only to enter once again.

Rather pleased with himself as he noticed those stoic features that laced her face was slowly melting. "Ah, yes!! A smile. Then I must be doing something right..very well, I shall do as promised.."  That heavy accent filtered though as he spoke again. Really glad he wasn't this Zachary person after all. He turned and walked out, then reaching his bike, he pivoted and then sure enough, back in he came, half expecting to be amushed by several more of her pack. The beautiful ones are the most wicked, always. And this one must have evil coursing though her veins. He tilted his head as he came closer to her, curious gaze sweeping over her features before eyes rested upon her face. "Now then, I'll cut to the chase..and not squander your time. I seek books, as many as you may have here. Necromancy would be splendid. Black magick, err so so but doable."  A quick smile shot over his features as he awaited her answer.

" Black magic... Thats a dangerous wish you are asking for. "  But she was never one to turn down a paying customer. She gave a light shrug now and set the lit candle in a holder. She moved around past the scented oils and different sized and colored candles over to where those beads hung. A glance back over her shoulder him and she spoke. " Follow me please. " After she spoke she would fade away behind those strands of beads.

Follow me echoed in his mind as the sound of the glass beads haunted him. He nodded lightly, those eyes taking a quick searching sweep of the place as he deemed them truely alone. First thought to occur to him was.. was she alone up here, which brought him to another question, why? Indeed, maybe she was a lupine terror. But he wasn't concerned, books was on his mind. His thoughts moved on to another track as he slid past the beads and followed her into the room. Glancing around, he smirked lightly as once move he moved her visage under his close scrutinizing eyes.  "I perfer to tease the devil, but dangerous is a good option as well. Tell me, Miss..."  He paused with another cock of his head.  "If you were able to get your hands on a copy of the biblical writings of Set, I would pay handsomely for it..."  He knew those rare books would be close to none in grasping, but he had to ask anyhow since he still had the bitter taste of the Setite snake man in his mouth.

She paused in her movement and turned around quickly. Eyes locked upon the male now as she heard what he asked for.: "I can not get ahold of such a powerful book. Its much to powerful for even someone like you or myself."  She turned away from the male and over to a bookcase. Her fingers rose and softly trailed over the binding of the many different books she had. Oh I bet if she really wanted to get a hold of this book...she could. And now that someone like this male requested it she would look more into finding this book. She knew just the place to look...The catacombs. As soon as her fingers drifted over a book she would pluck it quickly from its place. A faint dust job was given to the book before she held out three to the male. Offering him to look them over to see if that was what he was after... Alone?.. Of course they were. She was not one to travel in a pack for the simple reason was she was kicked out to spare her own life for loving his kind.

" It's not a question of if I can or cannot handle it, it's a matter of necessity..." Unfortunatly, his blood was now tainted with the acid from the snake venom, a plus for ending his siring days, but a minus to the sickness he's going through. As she held out the books, he glanced over each then chose the thick, tooled leather one in the middle. He could tell it's age by the engravings along the back.  "Thank you.."  He offered before he leaned against a nearby shelf and began to diligently thumb though the book.   "Some of the runic symbols might be helpful.."  He muttered then lay that book aside, grabbing another from her. "What I'm seeking is ancient and will require the Egyptian Hieroglyphs.."  Thumbing his way through that book, he knew it was hopeless as he sat it down.  "I'll take the first one.." His hand slid into his jacket then as he dug around for his wallet. The shiny hilts of his guns barely detected underneath both arms.

She took in a quick breath as she caught a small glimpse of his guns. Silver bullets no doubt.  " Why the black arts? "  She could see why but she wanted to know...for herself if she was at all right... Egyptian hieroglyphs... She had the perfect book for such a request. She turned her back to him. Such a silly thing to do to a sworn enemy. But with the male...something was different.. She didn't know what...just yet but she felt something different with him. She passed over a few book here and there until she pulled out a very old tattered looking book. The cover itself looked like it needed to be repaired but to repair such a powerful book would take away from its meaning all together. She pressed the book closing to her chest as she slowly spun around to face him. She was worried a bit to hand over this type of book but did so. She held it outwards to him now simply watching.  " I never did get your name Sir."

Dark eyes tilted upward as she turned to inspect her shelves again. He was silent for a moment or two before answering. "I suppose inquiring minds must know.." Of course she did, she was a practitioner herself, her knowledge spoke of that without having to witness a chanting ritual or some midnight incantation. "It would seem that I put my mouth where it shouldn't have been, and as bad as I hate to admit it, I got snake bit."  His family would be furious if they knew. Therefore his father's library was off limits, the man was obsessed with his books. Much like his son at the moment~ "And it's Wolfbane, Blade..if you please. I know you probably don't have dealings with my kind, but as it is, you are about the only sage that could be of help.."  Taking the anceint book, delicate fingers worked the pages open as he glanced through the writings.  "My Eqyptian is rusty, but this might just help.."  He needed facts on the Setite's blood. Another pause as he glanced up to her through a few wayward strands of his hair.

Her head slowly tilted to the side a bit. Strands of raven colored hair fell along with the movement of her head. There has to be more to his story that hes forever hiding. Eyes narrowed a bit as she watched him fumble through the pages of the book.  " A snake bite you say.."  She reached for that candle and took a few steps closer to him. Pressing her luck one would say...True. Her eyes tried to look for a possible flesh wound..a few sniffs of the air to see if they were fresh. But she got nothing but that foul scent his kind gave off.

A questionable brow rose as she neared, trying to seek out this bite. Again, that lop sided smile found it's way upon his features.  "Not in the literal context, Doll. I bit the snake, and drained him dry.."  Those eyes again sought out her own shimmering pools, hoping for a similiar reaction to his yarn as he got with the slight showing of his guns.  "A real nasty thing he was, blood was a rich black..I drank until there were nothing left but the vile dust in which the demons created him from..as exhilarated as I was at the time, I couldn't help it. So, there you have it. I drank tainted blood, therefore I'm tainted..slowly dying again.."  He shook his head. "But, of course, I'm sure you have no interest, a good blood sucker is a dead one, no?"

" So your poisoned.."  She almost seemed to smile at this. The prince is poisoned. Just wait until she gave this news to Jakob...She fell into a daze and let out what seemed to be a muffled growl..She shook her head a few times. Why would she do such a thing...And for her own blood that shunned her away. Ugh. She wrinkled her nose with disgust. She those eyes fell back onto his guns.  " What are you caring? Silver? "  She wanted to know. Just in case they had a visitor like... Zach..or maybe even Jakob himself.

It was his turn to give an oddly fashioned tilt of his head.  "Huh? Oh!! You mean these? Silver ..nitrate ..er liquid of course. No reason to be alarmed, unless you want to try to kill me."  She had hit his condition on the money, but then again, as that growl was emitted yet again, he did have to question her reason for bringing it.  "I'm a death dealer, I pack both lycan ammo, and kindred..so if you think I'm here to put your running light's out, then we're cool, Cuz I'm not. "  He shifted then to stand back up, a jerk of his head to the right brought on a slight crackling sound as he popped his neck.~ "And I'm not the prince..."

" I do hate when your kind do that. "  She grunted lightly towards him that is. She took a few steps back now. His choice of ammo to carry slightly worried her. She looked away as hot wax dripped onto soft delicate flesh of hers...She let out a light yelp as she would drop that candle to the floor. Her free hand moved to pick at the now cooling wax that laid upon her flesh. Swallowing as she stepped down boot putting out the flame of the offending candle, grinding the melting end into the floor, peeling the cool wax from her fingers. Looking to him.  "No, you are not hear to harm me."  Voice againing confidence as she moved sweeping past him. "I feel you are the type that doesn't walk in the front door."  Hand moved stopping on a thin dark red bound book, gauze skirt stopping it's motion as she turned hand still on the book.  "I understand there is a darkness which you took from the Serpentine Kindred"  Tap of her finger on the spine  "There is the start of to the cure of a blood curse in this." Slowly blinking.  "However, it will do no more than slow the tainted blood's journey."  Dark eyes met his offering him the book with the small engraving of the eye of Ra on the cover.  "And it does require several blood sacrifices during the light of a waning moon in the 10th month of the year."

 

He remained motionless as the candle took it's bite upon delicate flesh. The lingering of the smell retained within his mind to draw upon in the future perhaps. He was right about her, most often his instincts were that way. One does not hunt and strike down these sliver induced beasts without keen perception and in-depth study. But wasn't that aspect true to nature in both races? She was giving her own knowledge of him with just the short lapse of time in the shop. A tilt of his head, those words almost lulling him into a tranquil mood. But, too often would they do just such, and his guard remained up.  "I haven't the time to dabble around with superficial rituals and the likes. As you can tell, undoubtedly the tainting works fast. Me with all my revelations in this very thing, yet I am rendered as helpless as to seek the aide of an enemy."

Those words spat out into the air with humorous undertone. He shook his head as he stepped closer to her, dark eyes alit with the uncertainty of this one. His hand dared to lift up to the offering of the book, grasping to both the book spine, and upon her hand. The coolness of his touch raked against the still lingering warmth of the wax, and fingers confirmed his intentions as they coiled, overcoming her tiny digits. Voice lowered to an unmistakably darker tone. "Maiden of the moon, I seek nothing more than to break this, your books alone cannot do it. Fear me if you wish, and condemn me with all the rest..offer me thy service, and I will make it worth your while.."  He held his gaze dead on her soft shimmering orbs, judging her reaction and her decision as fingers shifted away, taking the book away in one slow and downward motion. Dark eyes fell hidden to her then as those untamed locks surrounded his face to inspect the book in silence.

Sharp intake of air feeling his cool large hands covering hers, soft lips parting as she looked her dark eyes meeting his. ~soft tone~  "Egyptian rituals like this take too much time."  Releasing the book, heart was still beating like a rabbit in the mist of the wolves den the adrenaline rush caused a light perspiration increasing her feral scent it mixed with the musk, lilac, and cinnamon, she is wearing. Swallows into a hushed whisper.  "Do you know of the books of Enoch?"  Something about him she could almost feel the pain of the poison working on his blood. nails lightly scratched his forehead as she reached up moving his dark hair from his eyes, as she found her courage. "I know how to stop the tainted blood from snaking through your veins.. from wrapping around your heart and choking it."

Those eyes drifted back when touch was sensed, the warmth against his flesh leaving a tingle in the tracing digit's wake. Her words bore into his mind, but it was the light within deep brown's that convinced him he would look no more in these dusty boundaries of magickal time.  "I'd rather you prove those talents to me.." A tilt of his head. "Allow me the knowledge of your name, and my blood is yours to rectify. I've nothing to lose, yet everything to gain."  His kind could curse the very ground he walked on for all he cared, It wasn't them who would offer their help so freely, but a sworn blood enemy would without fear or hesitance. This was a puzzlement that was tucked away with the soft scent of her.

Something about him was calling to her past awakening lust that had lead to a forbidden love, a love so strong she lost everything to have. One nod offered as she reached for his left hand tone staying soft and calm.  "I will have to say names that could cause you pain. I know you of your kind and that you will not break your promise to me. Please, come this way."  Leading him behind the counter, passing through the back room to the back porch.  "You will have to kneel and clear your mind and heart of everything. And Kara Kristen is my name, you may call me Kara, Blade."

Again, confusion laced within him. Clearly the effects of the curse. He was fighting it every step of the way, but he knew in the end, he would lose. He was right in his words to her, the parallels of his life always curving into the neverending circle of repeated misery to his blood. Her words brought him back to the now, and to the whisper softness of her voice. A hint of a smile formed, the jester of before emerging for only a moment.  "I should have known..one such as you, a Kristen. "

 

The darkness of the night greeted him as he followed her out to the porch, a half glance to the moon once more. Heh, just to be on the safe side. The waxing not promising, but still there was time. A glance to her as his jacket was shifted off and lay aside, then hesistant fingers unsnapped the holsters from his shoulders, and lay his weapons aside as well. Then upon bended knee did he move as dark locks were raked quickly from his face.  "This is one way to drop a man to his knees, moon woman.."  A glance back up to her from over his shoulder was issued.

Dhe couldn't tear her gaze from him as she watched now seeing perfect muscular form. soft chuckle:: "Yes... not one I've tried in the past."  Warm hands moved to cup Blades head fingertips lightly pressed into his scalp as she felt the silky strands of his dark hair between her fingers. Breathing becoming deeper as the beat of her heart became steady. Shiver ran through her, he could feel her shutter. Her tone soften yet held a touch of a command. "Ready, Blade?"

Eyes surrended to her touch, his entire body going on both alertness and curiosity to the soft touch that digits took against his flesh. As she willed him with her words, a soft nod was given as he continued to clear his mind, and his heart. Well, what was left of the one he owned. The boundries of his soul harboring a stonier soil like no other kindred. his shoulders relaxed as he drifted deeper into his collective medation. Not even a retractive thought to letting lycan have him in this pose.

Eyes closed as she bowed her head, dark silken hair falling down around the sides of Blades head staying in a silent prayer of mediation as five minutes pasted. Tone staying soft.  "I pray to you, Father of the most high, maker of all, I thank the for Gaia, for the mother earth, moon, stars, for the sun that provides regrowth. I call upon the righteousness of the Ancient of days shall not forsake thee, Blade Wolfbane. I call to the archangel Michael, the commander of the Sun, the leader of the angles, the one stronger than Satanail, who taught the children of Cain some of the powers of sorcery. Michael who is stronger than Ra. I praise you and thank you for filling me now with your strength your power to lift the curse placed by the Snake worshipers upon this one Blade Wolfbane."

 

"Lord Michael, Lord Michael, I call unto thee; Wield thy sword of blue flame and now cut Blade free. Blaze God power, protection now into my world, they banner of faith above me unfurl; Transcendent blue lightning now flash through my soul into Blade I AM by God's mercy make Blade radiant and whole. With all they great faith and power now being imbued killing the taint of the snake's blood, purging it from Blade Wolfbane. Now, Lord Michael they blue flame of power fill me pass through me and heal Blade. Thy mercy and faith and strength has healed Blade. His blood is as it was before the follower of the Set's mixed with him. Ahem. So be it, it is done."   Trembling as she released his head dropping to the floor collapsing beside him hair damp from her sweat now clinging to her face.

He lost all sense of time, and of space. It was as if the senastations of floating took him to another place..not sure what, his mind drifted through the currents of motion, dipping lower into a vortex of shadowy illusions. For the first time in almost 200 years had he felt a surge of warmth flooding his being. His entire form took on a radiating ray of some abstract light within. The pressure within his chest felt as if his heart was being dug from it's hardened enclosure. For what seemed like an eternity to him, but merely the passing of seconds as the drone words fell upon his deaf ears. Words with no sound formed upon his lips, only to be silenced by some strange source.

An unorthodox prayer for the damned--the irony was perilous. Madness shunned his mind for the time it took him to blink himself out of the funneling mist of uncertainty. His body struggled to remain knealt, but the efforts of the fight fruitless as he fell foward against the hardness of the weathered porch, panting as if he drew the very breath of life in mockery.

Blade wasn't sure how long he was out on the porch, but the inner warnings that daylight was swiftly approaching went off within his body. Eyes fluttered to life, then he forced his body to move, rising from his stomach to kneel against the weathered wood. Shaking the cobwebs from his clouded mind, dark eyes lowered as he focused upon the still form laying beside him. Instantly he leaned over and tilted her face up. He called to her softly as her limp form was soon lifted up and lay across his lap. What was this creature? His mind repeated over and over. For one so deadly in spirit to be so giving of herself.

Indeed she was not like the others of her race, and this was both scary and fascinating to him at the same time. But, soon enough the beast within rose in his blood. The faint heartbeat he heard as he moved the woman into his presence grew in volumes as he fought the urge to sink fangs into her flesh. Eyes tinted an angry shade of red, his teeth gritted until the beast finally subsided back into his soul. Shaking hands moved the wet locks from her face as thumbs traced down against her cheeks..watching and studying her features in child-like wonder. Such frailness, but the life-force that dwelled within overwhelming to him. A glance back over his shoulder as twilight was in the making, he knew he had no more time left to gaze upon this woman.

Reluncent to leave her just laying here out in the open, he gathered her up in his arms and moved back inside the shop, glancing around, he slid behind yet another beaded curtain to find her living quarters. Easing her into the bed, tender digits traced against her forehead to wisp a few strands of ebon away from her closed eyes, then turning, he bid her a silent good-bye before the currents of the morning air drifted into the open shop. Only the soft panning of the windchimes were heard in his wake. The motor of his bike revving up and then he was gone. Back into the remnants of the night, and back to his life.

It was past three, the door to the Shadowlight Magick Shop still locked, the "closed" sign in full display. The sun's descending rays piercing through the curtain as the warmth against her lids was met with a painful moan. Lids tighten body felt like she'd seen the losing end of a all night brawl as she rolled over in her bed. Dark lash blinking open the pain in her head lessening now that the sun's offensive rays where behind her. Her scent strong, low growl escaped, pulling untangling the encasement around her legs realizing it was her skirt. Drawing up into a fetal position hugging her pillow. Breathing deeply letting the scents form the imagines in her mind seeing with her nose, reassured she was alone. Thoughts of the nights events flood back with the scents.

Breathing increased as did her heart beat knowing the risk Blade had taken by coming to her. Even his bravado hadn't mask the scent of fear... it was the primal. She'd felt such horror herself. The one that cause the flight to seek help from those outside ones nature. Having to choose from the lessor of many evils, the risk of his existence entrusted in the den of the wolf. Not sure why she helped him trusting him as she had. She knew of his clan, you didn't live in the shadow of Wolfbane holdings, for long, without knowing. She couldn't deny her senses when he reached for the book the fear so strong it ran through her like electricity.

Feeling Blade's fear... it was in the blood, the life giving source, it's primordial struggle to survive. Compelling her to try to save him. When she'd prayed, she'd heard the call of his first blood as it fought the venomous vitae invading his body. She'd prayed for Blade's deliverance from the viper's taint. That was where her memory ended. How long had she been like this? What time is it? What day is it? Trembling knowing she needed nourishment, water, and to feel the moon's light. Eyes closed as her griping the pillow tighter:: ~very soft plea~ "Gaia what have I done?"

 

 

Chapter 15--History Lesson

Los Angeles, California 2004
Museum of Tolerance, 12:00 PM

 

His hand's moved through the satchel at his side, his eye's scanning it's contents until he found what he was searching for. A business card. His eye's scanned the writings on the card to reassure he was at the right place and following a nod he placed the card back into his satchel. His teeth champed down on the mint flavored gum in his mouth before walking through the single door and into the main hallway of the museum.

His name was Nicholas Swift-Wind. A native to Alaska, but his skin was lightly tanned, acquired from his years of travel around the world. Nicholas was garbed in slightly baggy cargo jeans overlapping black combat boots. Covering his upper torso was a simple white T-shirt and a beige cargo vest - commonly worn on photographer's. To complete his usual wardrobe was his pair of silver pilot sunglasses that covered his blue eye's. His black hair was up in spikes, but short enough to almost be military regulation. His facial hair of course was shy of a shave for the past week.

He stood in the marble entranceway, his hands in his pockets, his eye's glancing around at the pictures on the walls and the sound of him chewing gum being the only noise in the room. The temperature was probably around seventy degree's, but he was used to cold weather, being from Alaska and it was immense heat that bugged him the most. His head turned to the noise of a door opening to see a man in a gray suit walking in his direction wearing a smile on his face and extending his arm in greeting.

Nicholas took the hand into his and gave it a firm squeeze and shake and neglected to return the smile. After the two took their hands back, Nicholas scanned the man over and wondering why he would be in a museum for World War II. The man in the suit was balding and fairly short compared to Nicholas. It was obvious he was the common pencil pusher found in a museum as opposed to a field researcher, much like Nicholas was.

Again the only sound was Nicholas chewing his gum, waiting for the pencil pusher to speak first and knowing it was the short man waiting for him to speak first. A minute flew by and finally the shorter man got the clue and opened his mouth to speak:

"Welcome to LA Mr. Swift? Swift-Wind?" He looked to Nicholas for confirmation he got the name right.

Nicholas nodded "You can call me Nicholas," he removed the sunglasses from his eye's and moved them to hang from his shirt. " You called me, mind telling me what I'm doing here?"

"Ah, yes, of course," he placed his hand behind Nicholas as if to guide him toward his office, "well you came highly recommended from a mutual friend of ours," he looked to Nicholas "Mr. Hunter."

They entered an office where a large oak desk sat in the center with a leather swivel chair on one side and two metal cushioned chairs on another. Nicholas watched the shorter man sit in the leather chair and motion for Nicholas to sit. He did so and placed his right foot over his left knee.

"Why am I here Mr..."

"Rosa, Mr. Rosa. You may call me Jonathan." He leaned back in his black leather chair, looking slightly intimidated by Nicholas.

Nicholas placed his beige satchel on the floor beside him and taking note of the pictures around the room, all from the Holocaust. His main focus turned to the large leather bound book on the desk in front of Jonathan Rosa. He moved back to sitting up and crossed his arms, now looking to Jonathan.

"Yes, of course, why you're here." He cleared his throat, "Well, this book here," he placed his palms atop the red leather bound book "is the diary of Nazi General. General Berberich. He wrote every detail of what he did during the war in this book and this museum was lucky enough to attain it."

"How might have you done that John?" Nicholas wasn't one for manners.

Jonathan grinned "Long story. Anyway, General Berberich was in command of a small top secret unit that Hitler had created not long after the war had started. It was a unit entirely in charge of studying all sorts of occult events and artifacts around the world. Raiders of the Lost Ark, just a movie yes, but the concept very real. This unit was -"

Nicholas interrupted "You mind cutting to the chase? You're boring me."

"Oh, well, okay then. From what I am told you study similar things. Occult like stuff?" He quirked a brow to Nicholas.

"I am ten seconds from leaving." He held a thumb to the door.

"Okay, okay. In the diary there are several entries of one of a few of his soldiers not being Human. A few of them being Human, but with certain powers."

Jonathan Rosa started going on about this special unit and what it did and what General Berberich had written in his journal. Mr. Rosa then showed Nicholas a few of the drawings that the General had sketched inside, most of the drawings resembling that of a row of teeth with two very sharp canines. Another sketch of a man and an arrow pointing to a wolf. Three pages were sketches of some form of artifacts along with an extensive amount of notes.

Jonathan looked up from the book and to Nicholas "Do you understand German?"

Nicholas shook his head "I can read a bit, but I'm not fluent."

"Well, you're going to have a difficult time reading this then."

"Read it?" Nicholas quirked a brow.

"Well, yes, for you to do what I ask of you, I will need you to read this."

"You want me to read it now?" Nicholas was now leaning forward in the seat to have a better look of the book.

"No, no, of course not. I will loan it to you for a few nights and after you have read it, come back to me and I will tell you what I wish."

Nicholas was slightly shocked, this man obviously didn't know what he had in his possession or he was very trusting. Nicholas wasn't going to disagree, however, he wanted to read the journal. It could help him with what he wanted.

 

California, 2004
Somewhere between Los Angeles and Lake Tahoe, 4:37 PM

It was more of a scenic route he was on this time. Desert everywhere and the sun high in the sky. His Ford Bronco was due for a check-up, but he knew she could handle the trip up North. The Bronco's blue paint glistened in the sun and almost looked like the ocean - if it were dried out and rusty - water. His eye's glanced at the speedometer every now and then to make sure he stayed at the speed limit. It was in his best interest to no get pulled over at the present time, he was too anxious to get the journal translated. He could translate the simple words like Vampire, and Werewolf, but none of the bigger words. It was lucky for him he had traveled the world and gained a list of contacts.

Nicholas wore a grin on his face after what he had pulled back in LA. Jonathan Rosa thought he had treasure in his grasp, well he did kind of, but Nicholas wanted to keep the journal even after he was done with his job. Obviously any smart historian wouldn't allow that to happen, but Jonathan didn't know too much of the book other than it was written in German and looked authentic. Thats where Nicholas went in for the kill.

 

"What?!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"Thats right, I'm keeping the book okay," Nicholas held his grin. "I'm gonna need it throughout the job. And besides, you get any artifacts I find on my way. My fee is the book."

"No!" Jonathan wanted the book.

Nicholas pulled the red leather bound book from his satchel and approached Jonathan to be nose to nose with him "What the hell do you think I am?! I don't do this stuff for free. Besides, I'm not sure this is even real. How much did you pay for it?"

Jonathan's eye's went wide at the comment of the book being false "T-two thousand dollars."

"I think you got ripped off,"  Nicholas stepped back and flipped through a few pages "I'll get it authenticated for ya. If it's real, you can have it, if not, I keep it."

"If it's fake why would you want it?"

"I have a collection of false artifact's and a picture of the people who gave them to me." He grinned before placing the book back into his satchel. "I'll be out of the country for a while, so don't expect to find me." With that, Nicholas exited the museum and drove off in his blue Ford Bronco.

 

It didn't matter at this point, the book was as good as Nicholas'. Even if he did find it to be a fake, forged by someone who wanted some money, what was the point in going back to give Jonathan the book. If it were real, well then he had a bigger mission on his hands than expected. At the present moment he didn't care to get it authenticated, he wanted to know what it read. He had a contact that spoke German in Tahoe and to get it authenticated he would need to go to Germany for that and he hated back tracking.

His eye's would also glance to his passenger seat where lay his satchel and red book. The sight of the book always reminded him of the minimum of a month he would have to spend to translate it, allowing him to read it. The pictures were self-explanatory, wolves and Humans baring fangs. Other sketches of wolves with an arrow pointing to a Human. A name was often repeated throughout the journal as well. The name was Adrian. Nicholas was clueless as to who Adrian was and he needed to know, or rather wanted to know.

 

 

Gelena, Nevada, 2004
House of Bailey, 11:22 PM

Nicholas switched off the lights before he reached the driveway of Alex Bailey, a former Hunter of Vampires and Werewolves. The blue Bronco slowly pulled into the driveway of the ranch-like house and stopped just before the garage. There was a light on in the kitchen and dining room area of the house. Nicholas threw his satchel over his neck and covertly exited his truck before walking to the front door and ringing the doorbell. The door was made of oak with a nice circular glass window in the center.

He saw a silhouette of a man place an object off to the side, Nicholas' ears could hear the sound of metal being placed against the wall, shotgun, Nicholas said to himself in his head. His eye's instantly scanned the figure who opened the wooden door, a smile on the host's face. The man was short, but built like a football player, he was Human, but he could probably give Nicholas a run for his money. He had a thick beard covering his face and a military style haircut for his head. Over his upper torso was a long red and black flannel shirt, overlapping blue jeans. His feet were bare. The two exchanged smiles for a second before Nicholas was motioned to enter.

Alex closed the door and walked to the livingroom "You show up out of the blue. No call? No warning? Bumser! I could have had a woman over." His voice was deep and raspy.

Nicholas chuckled as he sat on the green couch next to the chair "Not likely. What does Bumser mean?" He removed the strap of his satchel and placed it next to him.

"It's German for fu -"

Nicholas cut him off " That's what I need. Your German." He pulled the journal from his beige satchel and tossed it to Alex.

"What's this?" Alex asked as he took the book into his hands and flipped through the pages, taking note of the German written in it. "That's a lot of German," he looked up to Nicholas who wore a grin.

 

Gelena Nevada, 2004
House of Bailey, 7:12 pm

Rays of light peeked over the horizon. The sun was going down and the moon was already visible. A crescent moon, it was getting closer to putting Nicholas at his fullest strength, just a few more nights. His feet, clad in black boots, walked across the wooden deck built outside of Alex's bedroom. Down a cement walkway was a lot of gravel ending at a barn. The barn was held two stories, the first story holding two office's and a coral for two horses. On the opposite side of the garage door were three quad motor-bikes equipped with gun-racks.

On the second floor was Alex's storage for his camping equipment and a television. Nicholas paced along the gravel, his head low and hands in his trouser pockets. Inside the single story house, Alex was hard at work re-writing the entire journal into English and copying even the sketches the General had drawn. Stars slowly became visible to the naked eye of any normal person and Nicholas enjoyed the sight of the stars, it seemed peaceful to him. The more stars he could see, the more peaceful the place was, to Nicholas at least.

 

"Okay, say it again... Danke," Alex said, for the third time. German wasn't Nicholas's strong point.

 

Sure he could solve the hardest puzzles, but saying thank you in German was difficult for him.

"D- danke?" Nicholas looked to Alex for reassurance he got it right.

Alex nodded "Perfect. Now only a million other words to teach you."

Nicholas sighed, pointing to the journal before exiting the main office of the house and heading for the backyard.

 

Now he was here. Waiting patiently for a damn book to be fully translated, correctly too. Nicholas trusted Alex, though. They had their run-ins, but in the end they became close, perhaps even close enough for Nicholas to call him a friend. Their first encounter wasn't a pleasant one, but any Garou running into a Hunter wouldn't have a good time.

Nicholas walked to a large rock with a flat surface, allowing him to sit and lay. His eye's gazed up at the blue sky with a lower level of orange where the sun was almost gone. He placed both hands onto his stomach, intertwining his fingers and allowing his mind to drift away in thought. Memories flew through his head, faces, artifacts he had found, and a map. A map that he had found in the back of the journal. It was a map that lead to someplace in Romania, once it was translated perhaps then he would search it out.

At the moment he couldn't shake the thought of Jonathan Rosa, from the Museum of Tolerance in LA. With the more Alex read to Nicholas in English from the journal, the more he knew it was authentic, the sketches and writings were all to precise to be fake, but it could also be an elaborate hoax. Either way, Nicholas was going to call Jonathan and tell him it was a fake and there were no spoils for him to have. That thought brought a smirk to Nicholas' face.

 

 

Gelena, Nevada 2004
House of Bailey, two months Later. 11:37 am

"Thanks a lot Alex. I owe you one I guess." Nicholas said, closing and stacking the two books on top of each other. The translated version was in two black spiral bound books, both the short to fit the entire journal into.

Alex shook his head, leaning on the doorway "Naw, you don't. It was fun and besides, I memorized a few of those passages in there," he smirked  "I'd say we're about even."

Nicholas stared at his colleague "Umm... okay, I hope it's safe."

Alex nodded "It's fine, just a few weaknesses I may want to keep in mind."

Nicholas grinned with a wave before turning and entering his Ford Bronco. He prayed to Gaia that it would start since he hadn't driven anywhere for the entire time he was there. It roared to life, almost sounding excited to finally be driving. He backed out of the driveway and drove off, maneuvering through the street's to finally come to the main road. He looked to the passenger seat where his satchel held the three book inside and gave a grin. He was happy to finally have the passages translated. It would give him some reading material for his long flight. Germany, the only place he could think of where he could get it authenticated. And he was now able to speak a good portion of German to get around and find what he needs and ask what he needs.

 

Bucharest, Romania 2004
Cafe Le Blanc, 9:34 PM

The water fell hard from the dark clouds above the city. Streets became slick and slippery and the smooth cobblestone didn't help people walk over the water with balance. Nicholas had taken a window seat in the cafe sipping on his iced tap water. His eye's scanned the darkness of the street, pedestrians walking along the sidewalks and a low number of vehicles driving by. It was obvious this country was built long before any motor vehicles came to be.

The bells above the cafe door jingled, alerting other's that someone had either entered or exited. Nicholas's eye's raised to see the one whom he had expected. The man spotted Nicholas as well and gave a nod before heading to him. He was garbed in a green army surplus jacket, a grey zip-down sweater under with a hood pulled over his obvious bald head. His legs were covered by casual jeans and Nike tennis shoes around his feet. He slid into the booth seat opposite of Nicholas and smiled.

"I was in Rome and I get a call, from whom? You of all creatures," his voice was clean and strong and heavy with a German accent. "I understood that you would not be back in Europe for sometime my friend. What happened?"

Nicholas cleared his throat and placed the red book onto the table before sliding it to his companion "This brings me here. I was hoping that you could authenticate it for me."

He sighed before flipping the hard cover open and instantly noticing the writings in German "You have your nice little gift don't you? Why would you need me?"

"When it comes to books, the gift isn't too accurate. It primarily tells me if artifacts are old, not real." He reached under the collar of his t-shirt to pull out a small rock that was presently glowing a dim red, tied around his neck by a shoe-lace.

"And you come to a Tremere for assurance. You are not a sane creature Nicholas."

"Naw, I'm just too lazy to actually go to a mortal facility to get this authenticated."

The Tremere read the pages, giving nods here and there. He was curious; did Nicholas know what he had in his grasp? He must have, otherwise he wouldn't have gone through so much trouble to get it authenticated.

"Well, my Lupine friend, this is one hundred percent authentic. There is no doubt about that. This General, he was very popular among some kindred back in the day. He studied them and killed them until he grew a liking for them. Then he just studied them and he had one that would answer all of his questions."

"Hmmm, what happened to the General?" Nicholas was inclined to ask.

"He became a vampire himself, his thirst for knowledge of our kind grew so intense, he saw the only way to find out what he wanted to know was to become one of the walking dead. As for his sire, well… he wasn't lucky enough to have an obedient childe."

"So the General still lives… er rather unlives?"

"Not at all. If I am correct, it was your kind that put an end to his existence. He thought he was all powerful, especially after diablerizing his sire, but unfortunately he had never entered a fight with a beast such as yourself."

Nicholas smirked "Stop trying to flatter me. I already know my kind can wipe your kind out; there are just too damn many of you."

The two began a long conversation from there. The Tremere teaching Nicholas about the General and his studies and enlightening him on most of the writings in the book and some of the drawings. When they neared the end of the red journal, the Tremere remembered the hybrid race and was hesitant to inform Nicholas of it. He may have already heard tales, but the Tremere then told Nicholas.

"He did his own studies of a hybrid?" Nicholas asked, setting his glass of ice water down.
The vampire nodded "Yes, before he was a kindred. His Vampire friend had told him of other beasts of the occult and the General already knew of the vampire's strengths and he learned of the Lupines. That's when his stupid Human brain grew hungry for the first time. He nabbed himself a Lupine and a test subject vampire and began his work."

Nicholas sat in silence. His mind contemplating about this new information and all that he had learned this night. He looked to his watch and noticed the time, giving him cue to gather the book and the rest of his things into his satchel.

"Well good friend. I am afraid I must be going. And you should too; the sun will rise in another hour." The two stood to their feet.

The Tremere nodded "Yes, well it was unpleasant seeing you again Nicholas. I truly do hate your kind." He said with a smirk.

"And I you." They exited the café and turned to walk in their separate directions.

Before they were too far apart, the vampire turned and called to Nicholas "Be careful comrade. You and the General seem to have some similar interests, especially for knowledge. Don't end up like him." And with that the Tremere turned the corner and vanished from sight.

Nicholas stood on the sidewalk, staring at where the vampire had been. After a soft sigh, Nicholas turned and walked off to his next destination.

Journal Two