10.30 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubSydney
The coterie was split three ways: Eclipse was on foot, Izac, who knew where, and I was in the bachelor group with Stallion and Dominic. The trip back to the Crow Bar was silent. I desperately wanted to Astral travel and find Izac, but was loathed to go unconscious in a public taxi. So, as Dominic made his text messages organising his forces and Stallion stared blankly out the window, I ground my teeth and waited.
Across the CBD, Eclipse had slowed down her manic run as she tried her best to blend in with the Friday night crowds. The restaurants and bars that lined the Quay were full of happy people enjoying the start of the weekend. Eclipse, her panic now down to a low simmer, looked on all the crowds and noise as just one more obstacle. She wished the dark hunger that burned within her would consume them all and give her back what was hers. Instead, she kept the glowing white sails of the Opera House in her sight and continued to weave through the slow bovines around her.
As she reached the roundabout, a screech of tyres caught her attention and that of most of the crowd. A familiar black sedan shuddered to a halt, and Giuseppe flung open the driver’s door. Spotting her, he waved. She turned to continue the mission. She would wait for the Prince, she would ask for her boon, and then he would be returned to her.
The sound of heavy footsteps stopped beside her.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
She ignored him. It was her default way of dealing with Giuseppe. It wasn’t working.
With his longer legs, he stepped ahead of her, and she had to stop before crashing into him. In that moment, she saw him properly for the first time. He wasn’t the sleazy perve from the bar. He looked harried, concerned, and…worried for her. It made her rethink her mad headlong dash down to the Opera House.
“Luna, what’s going on?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be back at the bar?”
“Amongst other things…but that’s not the point.”
Eclipse looked around, hunting for a way out from Giuseppe’s baleful gaze. A short way away, what looked like a young woman with long auburn hair, unseasonably dressed in jeans and a jacket, stared back at her, watching. Slowly, Eclipse turned and headed for the car.
“Good, you had me worried for a bit there. Look, Uncle didn’t say what was going on…” “I’m not sure you need to know,” She found herself replying, her glance going back to the woman, a still point in the moving crowd.
“That’s no way to talk to someone who has come to your rescue.“ Giuseppe got into the car, more himself now that Eclipse was complying. Eclipse opened the passenger door and turned again to the woman, now eyeing her.
“Have you got a problem?” Eclipse asked across the seemingly oblivious crowds.
“You’re the one that’s looking,” said the young woman in a calm, deep voice.
Giuseppe rolled his unusually large eyes, “Come on, you’re making a scene.”
Eclipse ignored him,
“Are you in a spot of trouble?” The woman asked as Eclipse realised what it looked like. A frantic young woman being coerced into a dark car by a pushy man.
“No, “ Though Eclipse knew that to be a lie. Was she going to be forced to drink Dominic’s blood again for the second time that night? “ Who are you?”
“Mads.”
The name was familiar, but Eclipse couldn’t remember where she’d heard it. Guiseppe once more stepped out of the car and called to Mads. “Hi, she’s a very important person, and I have to get her back. If you’re looking for a favour try one of the local spots.” He said respectfully to the unknown kin but with an urgency that suggested no argument.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” Eclipse said and went to take her place in the car.
“You too, Luna.”
Eclipse sat in the car as Giuseppe once more took his place behind the wheel. Who was she? She thought maybe she was some Brujah. But how has she known her name? So much of this young woman seemed…familiar, though she was sure she’d never seen her before. Eclipse opened the door and once more stepped out of the car. She could hear Giuseppe groaning behind her.
“Are you looking for a bar?” She asked. Mads was still just standing there, watching.
“I could use a drink,” Mads agreed, and Eclipse opened the back door.
“We’re heading for the Crow Bar. Heard of it?”
“No,” Mads said and slipped into the back seat.
“Yes, yes, let’s not tarry, picking up strays in the Prince’s own domain,” Giuseppe grumbled, glad to put the car back into drive and into the traffic flow.
10.50 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubCrowbar, Leichhardt
Our taxi drive from the CBD to Leichhardt was made in heavy silence. As soon as we arrived at the Crow Bar, we split in different directions. I headed downstairs, grabbing another blood pack before walking across the VIP area and locking myself into Time Out. Stallion also headed downstairs but kept going, disappearing down the stairs to the carpark. Dominic headed upstairs and found Bruce in his CCTV centre.
“Our Vegan friend has disappeared.” “About time, “Bruce smirked.
“Not voluntarily,” Dominic qualified, which just made Bruce laugh.
“Is it ever with you guys? Boss, you know he might be gone for the night, he might be gone for fifty years.”
“Still, I’d like us to see what we can find out. Besides that little drama, how are things?”
Bruce shrugged, “More traffic for the big event. Seems pretty calm at the moment.”
“Stock up on kegs,” Dominic said and turned to leave.
“So, how was the poof festival?” Bruce asked, then thought better about his choice of words in front of the boss. “Sorry, boss. How was the the-atre?”
“A bust. The young have no social etiquette,” Dominic lamented.
“Yeah, well, that’s why you don’t take me…I know I’m good in the filth. Forty years of it.”
Changing the subject again, Dominic asked, “Where are we on that little side project? Have you found any worthy candidates yet?”
Bruce let out a breath and shook his head, “None that I’m happy with, but I can pick up someone if you need them now.”
“No,” Dominic mirrored his ghoul’s gesture, “No, I want a good candidate for that one. Best not to rush that sort of thing.”
Stallion was downstairs tooling around with his bike. He pulled out a toolkit and tried tuning it up, tweaking the efficiency, but it was purring like a small furry carnivore. He thought for a moment and took the license plates off. If they were making a rescue mission, it would be best to go incognito. Throwing the plates into the back of his car, he remembered the shotgun. He grabbed a few extra cartridges, stowed the gun in his coat and headed upstairs.
Shutting out my awareness of the Time Out room, I found myself beside Izac in a dark factory setting. He was sitting in a chair, unmarred and unrestrained, though nervously looking around him. Out beyond him in the darkness, I could make out many silhouettes. He seemed well-guarded. I wanted to tell him I was there and we were working on getting him out, but in astral form, I couldn’t even touch his shoulder.
“Who are you!” A woman’s voice, loud in the silence, startling both Izac and me. Into the pool of light stepped a woman with soft black curls and heavy-lidded eyes. She stared directly at me, “You are not meant to be here. Go away!”
Izac turned to where she was staring but looked straight through me. This woman was powerful. I nodded my understanding and pulled away. It was then that I was hit by an overwhelming feeling of need and longing. I found myself stuck above the building where Izac was being held, caught as firmly as if I’d been bound with the Time Out room chains. I couldn’t get the thought of her out of my mind, her dark curls and expressive eyes so reminiscent of Avel’s…and yet not my mother’s. Her voice was feminine and commanding, her full lips telling me to leave, and all I wanted to do was stay.
I tried concentrating on the warehouse’s surroundings. I didn’t recognise the area. West of Sydney is the centre of the suburban belt. It all tended to look the same. The main roads were just a gridwork filled with more warehouses, shops, schools, hospitals and homes. I pulled away again and spotted the brown winding snake of the Georges River to the south and theorised the area must be near Bankstown, maybe Punchbowl.
You don’t belong here…
If an astral projection can shake its head to clear it, I was doing that now. I usually didn’t have a problem focusing on a task, no matter how pretty the face. But this woman, I found myself slowly sinking back towards the factory where she was, where I could see her once again…
I broke the connection. I was in the Time Out room…alone. It hadn’t changed, yet my world was overturned because I had seen her….and she’d… seen… me. There was something classical about her looks. Great masters would have lined up for the chance to have her pose for them. Her creamy skin. Her large, soulful eyes were full of expression. Her dark curls framed her face and tumbled down her shoulders like the rolling in of night. But more than that, her stance was confident and commanding. She couldn’t have been more regal in emine and diamonds.
I ignored the cold, brutalness of the room and recalled what I’d learnt. Yes, north of where a road crossed the Georges River. That same road also went through the industrial area I was looking for. That’s where she was. Waiting.
Leaving Time Out and headed upstairs, knowing Dominic would be gathering his resources. If anyone could find her, he could. By the time I climbed the two flights of steps to the office, I had a rough outline of the first stanza of a poem circling around my mind. Dominic was on his way to the office when he turned and stared at me as if seeing something new.
“Are you feeling alright, Rain?”
“Huh? Oh! Ur…” I took a breath to try focusing my thoughts again. What was I doing?
“You seem a little out of sorts?”
I was searching. That’s what I’d been doing. I’d been searching, and I found her.
“Yes, no, I’m fine. I found….” What was his name? The tall, shaggy one, “There was a woman there…a goddess. She saw me. I was surprised when she did, but she looked right at me and saw me.” That point was very important. I tried to make it clear to Dominic.
“She wasn’t very pleased to see me, I’m afraid. She told me go. But that could change, I’m sure, once I got a chance to talk to her.”
Dominic just stood watching me. Did I forget something important.
“I saw where she is. A warehouse in an industrial estate between Bankstown and Punchbowl somewhere. There were others there. In the dark. Izac! Yeah, he was there too. He was unharmed, unrestrained. He looked kind of happy to be there…who wouldn’t…to be with her….” I sort of drifted off thinking about her again when Dominic’s voice broke through my recollections.
“Could you describe this woman?”
“Can I describe her?” I scoffed, “How many words do you want me to use?”
“All your words,” And if I didn’t know better, I’m sure I saw one of Dominic rare smirks appear.
I painted a word painting of her beauty and grace. Her power and refinement. In the end, he could have picked her out of a crowd of hundreds…I could have found her…would find her…if I had to sort through all the peoples of the world.
Dominic went thoughtful, his eyes going distant as he checked his memory.
“Do you know her? What’s her name? Where can I find her?”
“I’d have to bring up an old favour to find out. Do you know where they were?”
I shrugged, embarrassed I’d failed to pinpoint her specific location, “I was able to work out her exact location. She was in a factory basement in an industrial estate somewhere in the Bankstown-Punchbowl area. There were a lot of other people there, by the silhouettes.”
“There are a lot of factories out that way,” He responded, dissatisfied. I couldn’t blame him. I was dissatisfied.
“I’m sorry. I don’t really know that far west, and she…told me to leave, so I did as quickly as I could. I could try again, now that I have the area…” Now, that I knew her, I didn’t mention, “I just won’t ….I don’t want to get on her bad side.” “Oh, if she has Izac, we’re going to get on her bad side when Luna gets back,” Dominic responded. And for the first time, I felt a twinge of resentment against Izac. He turned up, and Luna had become someone else. He disappeared and was causing these problems between us and the lovely Lady. To top it off, he was there with her!
With the worst timing in the world, Stallion arrived, mooching around for something to do. How could he be so indolent when there was so much at stake? He walked past us as if we were furniture and into the library, Dominic’s good and faithful lapdog.
The resentment I felt for Izac seethed over with Stallion.
11.00 pm Friday 8 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubCrowbar, Leichhardt
Below us, the black sedan returned to the underground parking. Luna and her new friend stepped out. Giuseppe seemed thankful to hand off responsibility for his two passengers as he carefully shepherded them up the stairs.
“Come on, Luna, let’s get your new stray upstairs. Now, I’m going to do you a favour and not mention anything that happened. We don’t need you getting punished again…”
“Who are you calling a stray?” Mads looked around, taking in everything with an expression that suggested she smelt something rotten.
“Pl-ease, with that, get up?”
“Well, aren’t you a catty little thing!”
“Mads, what if I take you to the bar?” Eclipse intercepted before the catfight could start in earnest.
“Oh yes, please, I’m stinging for a drink!” Completely ignoring Giuseppe, they headed upstairs to the bar.
Luna left Mads to find a table while she went to the bar to circumvent a scene with Delith. Instead of the nosy Ventrue, a tall, thin, pale, androgynous being with luminescent skin stood behind the bar, making cocktails. They were new. At least she hadn’t seen this individual before, and she was sure she’d remember if she had. Maybe it was the skin, but something about them…glowed.
“Two glasses of red, please,” She ordered.
“Nothing special?” He asked.
“A little flavouring,” She replied, with the heavy implication that it wouldn’t just be simple syrup.
He glanced up from his bar and looked at her for a moment, “There seems to be a fire in your eyes that may need to be quenched.”
“Hm,” She agreed, “You can say that.”
He nodded and bent down under the bar, returning with a briefcase. Popping the latches, he pulled out various strange objects. Eclipse stared as, one by one, the items were processed by their nature and applied to a red pouch reminiscent of a cloth cap. The resulting drink, once strained through the cap, was cool, crisp and smooth. Curious, she paid for the drink, offered a tip and took both glasses back to Mads.
“You’re very kind,” Mads said, taking her drink.
“I have a habit of picking up strays,” Eclipse admitted after both had sampled their drinks and found them excellent.
“Yeah, what was that about?” Mads asked with open curiosity.
“Giovanni are…they don’t. They’re family orientated.” “Yes, I know all about Giovanni.”
“So, what are you doing running around the Opera House of all places?”
“I heard there was a party going down soon, so I’m just getting a lay of the land.”
“The party, I’ve been told.”
“Yes, I’m very much looking forward to it. Catching up with old friends.”
Luna sat back and took in that statement. Friends? What vampire talks about having friends besides that idiot, Rain? Could she really claim to have friends? If Mads had any friends, why was she alone at Circular Quay?
“How about you?” Mads asked over the rim of her glass, “What brought you into the orbit of the Giovanni? They certainly take an interest in you.”
Eclipse made a scoffing laugh, “A favour from the Prince can do wonders.” “The Prince? That’s impressive.”
“So how could Giovanni refuse? He gained a favour and picked up someone else’s strays?”
“Hmm, I’d like to meet this Giovanni. He sounds fascinating.”
Soon after Stallion’s arrival, Giuseppe appeared looking harried. I hadn’t seen him in a couple of days, and I wondered where he’d been hiding himself…before thoughts of Her distracted me.
“Hello, Giuseppe, “ Dominic greeted him.
“Hi, what’s going on?”
“Izac has had himself acquired by someone.” “Ah, that explains Luna then,” Giuseppe laughed, “She found a new one. She has her downstairs. I didn’t know she was so fast, did any of you?”
We all turned to the small CCTV arrayed on the wall opposite Dominic’s desk. Luna was carrying drinks to a table where an attractive young woman with long strawberry-blonde hair sat waiting. Not my sort at all.
“Yeah, plucked her up right from the street.”
“Hmm,” Dominic stared up at the monitor and seemingly changed the subject, “When did we start hiring Kiasyd?”
No one had an answer to that question. I couldn’t tell you what a Kiasyd was if I saw one, so I went back to my mental poem writing.
“Did she say anything about Izac?” Dominic asked Giuseppe.
“Not to me. Explains things, though.”
“Apparently, he’s in the Bankstown-Punchbowl area with someone very powerful.” Dominic looked at me, not in confirmation but like presenting an example.
“Hi, Rain,” Giuseppe said, only just breaking through my thoughts.
“Hmm? Hi….Giuseppe…um,” I’d been watching out for him for days. Now here was, and…I was starting to get the feeling there was something wrong with me.
“I’m a little distracted at the moment. I’ll have to get back to you on how things are. There’s a lot of chaos here. We don’t seem to know where…Izac’s is…and I can’t seem to…shake…”
He smirked that knowing grin, I didn’t like on his globous face, “I know that look. It seems you’re fast, too.”
Fast? What would he know? I’d had a profound life experience. All he could do was smirk.
“We had our night, I guess. No strings, just chains… it’s okay.”
Of course, this is when Stallion needed to make himself known, “What the fuck you going on about?”
Giuseppe rolled his oversized eyes and fixed them on Stallion’s shocked expression, “Oh, is there somebody else who’s smitten?”
“Smitten!” Now that’s just cruel, “I don’t do smitten.” “Adoration then?” Giuseppe qualified, and I had to admit, that went someway to how I felt for the mysterious lady.
“Adoration…that, I can do.”
“Wait!” It was Stallion again, “Rain, is there something going on between you two?” He asked, pointing at Giuseppe.
That’s when my misplaced resentment spiked. He’d always been a little backward about such things and the memory things was getting old.
“Would you like there to be? Would you like to watch?”
To his credit, he bounced back with a zinger, “I could always find a video camera if you like.”
“See, that’s the difference between us, Stallion. I don’t need a camera. I don’t watch.”
Struggling to collect my thoughts, I dragged the conversation back to the subject at hand.
“Who would want to take Izac? The Prince was good with him. They spoke together only tonight before the show.”
“I guess there’s a fair few who don’t like the Prince, “ said Stallion, sounding…reasonable. My world was turning upside down.
“Okay,” Turning back to Dominic, “Disgruntled groups in society, who would they be?”
“It could be anyone, really,” Dominic thought, “We’re getting very close to the party, and there are a lot of visitors in town.”
“So we may be looking for someone from outside of Sydney? International?” This was becoming big. Izac and the woman may be in Punchbowl right now, but in twenty-four hours, they could be anywhere.
“Didn’t we meet some internationals tonight?” Stallion again! When did he get an opinion about anything?
Instantly, I had a brilliant idea, “I wonder if she’s going to the Succubus Club?”
Stallion this time, brought us back on topic, “Are we going after Izac tonight?”
“We can’t go after Izac tonight?” Dominic replied with little patience, “As we don’t know where he is. The only information we have is the vague several-kilometre square industrial estate out west. Does that sound like enough information to you?”
“Yeah, fair enough. I just wanted to know if you wanted me ready to go or should I kick back for a bit.”
Now that Stallion and I had been admonished in the same breath, Stallion went and found one of his magic books, and I found a corner and scoured Google Maps on my phone while Dominic continued to manage the search and rescue of Izac.
Downstairs, Eclipse was making investigations of her own. It was time to stop the bullshit.
“Could you describe these friends of your, Mads. Maybe I know them. Maybe Mr Giovanni knows them.”
Mads sighed, “Well…really, it’s just one friend. The last time I saw him, he was six foot tall, lanky, shaggy hair and covered in blood.”
Eclipse was at a loss to know what to do with that description. That could be anyone…except for the being covered-in-blood. You’d think that would catch in your mind.
“If it helps, he had really sad eyes. Look, I’ve just got to find him.”
Oh, Izac. Mads should have led with the sad eyes.
“I can tell you where he’s been. I can’t tell you where he’s going.” “I love a good education. Do you mind telling me what you know?” Mad was all attention now, even her exceptional drink was put aside to give Eclipse her full attention.
“I think you know how things work. Information like that doesn’t come for free,” Eclipse suggested, and Mads sighed again, this time in resignation.
“What can I do for you?”
“A boon for information.”
“You tell me what you know, and I owe you a boon? Something within my power at a later date?”
“Something like that.” “Fine, now tell me everything you know.” “He’s been here for the past three weeks.”
11.35 pm Friday 8 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubCrowbar, Leichhardt
I needed a drink. I felt twitchy and out of sorts. Not just distracted but wanting to hit something, hurt something to distract not just from my longing for Her, but also a deeper unease. I felt tired without the exhaustion and needed a release.
“If you don’t mind, Mr Giovanni, I’m going to get a drink or something,” I said, getting up from my corner.
He stared at me as if examining a bug.
“I believe someone’s been playing with your mind. Yes. You should get yourself a drink.”
He couldn’t have floored me more if he’d said the bane was back and I needed to return to the Time Out room. Someone has been messing with my mind? No, I do that to other people, not vice versa.
“What do you mean by… playing?”
“Well, you’ve learnt a new trick. You astral projected and met someone while looking for Izac, and now you’re infatuated with them.”
“But she’s incredible, “ Who wouldn’t be enamoured after meeting such a goddess?
“Exactly.”
Only that past week, I’d seen Dominic manipulate Stallion’s mind. He knew what he was talking about. Still… I went over what I had just said. That she’s incredible? That I consider her a goddess worthy of my adoration? It didn’t sound right. I knew people better than that. No one, no matter how beautiful, was worthy of worship…except her, of course. To me, it seemed I’d never found anyone worthy…until I met her.
“For example,” Dominic turned to Stallion, “Stallion, what do you think of me?”
“Oh, you’re an alright bloke,” Stallion replied.
High praise, I thought, hardly winning popularity contests with that recommendation.
And then Stallion continued, “Yeah, a real mate, you know? Picked me off a beach and made me something. He’s always had me back, yeah, a real mate.”
Dominic turned back to me, an eyebrow raised as if his argument had been proven.
I’m not like…Stallion! I thought, shaking my head.
I admit, she is powerful. Would I fall so hard for someone weak and pliable? Of course not. She saw me when no one else did. She commanded me to leave and pushed me out. This wasn’t an infatuation of a strong mind over a weaker one. I knew manipulation. I knew how to pull heartstrings and play a tune. This was one pro seeing another and recognising the skills.
I didn’t say any of that.
I said, “I think I’ll go get that drink.”
When I made it down to the V.I.P room, my pain of longing was momentarily distracted by the towering luminescent being behind the bar. They looked out of place even amongst the immortals of the bar.
A new person making drinks, I thought, If it hadn’t been for Izac going missing, this would have been an excellent night.
To the new barman I said, “Hey, you’re new. I’m Rain.”
“Yes, I am new,” he said with a voice low and calm. It seemed the sort of voice that would never be in a hurry, would never get flustered or angry.
“What’s your name?” Like most of the children of the night I’d met, he had to think about what to be called.
“Let’s say, for the sake of humour, you can call me Rumplestiltskin. Or Rump if that is easier.”
“Rumplestiltskin? I can call you Rumplestiltskin if that’s what you want. You didn’t want to find a less grim tale to be named?”
“As good as any other.”
“But he was a terrible lech…if you believe the tales.”
“You should meet him.”
Vampires, ghosts, werewolves, mages, demons, evil spirits and now fairytale creatures. It was going to be hard to top this night.
“Not that I actually want to meet Rumplestiltskin, but how about the Beast from Beauty and the Beast?”
He shook his head as if he were talking Shakespeare, and I’d been praising Dr Seuss.
“No, no. That’s a modern tale, more aspiration than actual.” “Well, we can’t talk to the Little Mermaid. She’s dead.” I lamented, trying to think of all the really old tales like Rapunzel or Red Riding Hood.
“We could always listen for her on the wind,” Rumplestiltskin suggested, and I found that idea appealing.
“Real fairytales where dragons sleep under the earth, pixies make homes in mushrooms, and gnomes hide in trees. It’s all still out there, you know. You just have to know how to see them.”
If my heart and soul had not been captured by the Lady earlier that evening, I could have given it all to listen to Rumplestiltskin’s tales of fairies. I leaned on the bar as he spoke of brownlings and nobblings, house elves, boggles.
“There’s something strange about you. Have you had a busy night?” He said after a while of talking.
“Yes, you could say it has been a strange night, “And I felt the ache of longing for the Lady as I was reminded of her once more, “Yes, certainly an odd night.” “It’s like there’s a pressure around you,” And he held out his pale hand as if describing an aura.
“Well, that is why I am here. Alcohol is required.”
“Something special?”
“The house red, but if you have a little something to add…yes, bring it on.”
He leaned down, revealing a small briefcase, and started pulling ingredients out. A piece of skin or leather? Dragonflies wings? A sprinkle of unnamed powder was all diffused in a tincture of alcohol.
“This should alleviate the pressure,” He handed over a glass of clear liquid that slowly bubbled and popped like champagne on Prozac.
“If it doesn’t, I’ll be back for another,” I warned, and then, after an experimental sip, added, “And even if it does, I’ll still be back.”
I scanned the tables, looking for friends and finding only Luna and her new best bud. The woman wasn’t one of the five she’d been with the night before. Someone new so quickly after running madly off to find Izac? Not for the first time, I wondered where my Luna had gone. For a short time, we’d made a sort of family out at the Pyrmont House. For a couple of weeks, we looked like we were really going to make a go of this new life together. And then…it all seemed to fall apart. I took a sip of Dutch courage and headed over in their direction.
Luna spotted me first before I could introduce myself. She gave me the sort of face that said many things, none of them were “Boy, am I glad to see you.” The woman, at Luna’s expression turned to see me, a rye smile brightening her face.
“Luna? Is this a friend of yours?”
“Luna. I’d heard you brought someone back. I hadn’t realised they were so charming,” I extended a hand before Luna could dismiss me, “Rain, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Met Mads, Rain. I met her…at the Opera House.” Luna finally introduced us, ending with the same look, which now said, “Go away!”
Mads extended her hand through the shade Luna was casting, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Mads…,” I remembered very clearly the morning in Dominic’s home when I found Izac and Luna asleep in each other’s arms. He’d been mumbling in his sleep about a Mads, “I believe Izac once spoke of a Mads.”
“It’s the kind of name that many of us share,” She replied, with just a little hint of teasing. She was cool and confident, very practised socially, and I smelled a fellow con.
“I can see I’m intruding, so I’ll leave you two alone to enjoy the bar,” I said, releasing Mad’s hand. She’d be on her guard if I stayed and watched, beside, I was unwanted.
“I’ll be sure to catch up with you later. Dosvedanya.”
“Dovidenja!” I smiled. Though she’d said goodbye the Russian way, it was as close as I’d heard to my native tongue in…decades. I knew I still carried a slight accent, but to pick it up in such a short conversation…she was good.
I sauntered away, trying to look as cool and unaffected as Mads did as I swilled my drink. It was excellent. It seemed the more I drank of Rumplestilkskin’s concoction, the less the crushing longing for the woman seemed to affect me. I put aside the scrap paper poem, and went in search of a second drink as Dominic entered the V.I.P. lounge.
Looking as imperious as ever, he glided around the bar like a captain through the passengers of his ship. And I guess that’s what the V.I.P. lounge was, a small, safe ship in a dangerous and uncaring world. He was alone, no Stallion at his heels. I guessed my brother had found himself a good book and was keeping himself useful for our adopted Papa. Dominic wove his way through to the bar, where Rumplestiltskin was busy plying their trade.
“Good evening, sir,” Rumplestiltskin said respectfully as drink order flew from one hand to another.
Dominic scanned the bar itself before turning his attention to the startling being before him, “What vintages do we have ready tonight?” “All the house special, enough to cater to the current crowd. I haven’t needed to crack into my own supplies.” “Any unruly guests to throw out?”
“Not at this time, no. If there are, I’ll be sure to give them something special,” Rumplestiltskin said, passing Dominic’s little test of stock and customer awareness, “And, if I may say, thank you for allowing me to ply my trade.”
“Having a few extra skills in the building never hurts. I can be practical when it comes to these things,” Dominic nodded, “I would, however, like to drink?”
The lanky barman gestured to the bar before him like a conductor his orchestra.
“Do we have a security specialist in the keg list?”
Rumplestiltskin thought a moment, “Not security specifically. Military?” “I’d take a drop of military tonight,” Satisfied, Dominic returned to scanning the crowd as he waited for his drink.
“Were you looking for shock and awe in your drink or more of a certain kill?”
“We’ll take the certainty.”
And as before, Rumplestiltskin made the concoction, creating, muddling, and straining it through a red cap. Though he saw the blood of the serviceman go into the cap, the fluid in the presented tumbler was clear, crisp and cool. Dominic took a sip and experienced the hustle and bustle of a command centre. Commands given and received, the anticipation of the kill and finally, the call, mission complete. The certainty that in war, death has to occur, and the peace in knowing that it wasn’t you.
“Excellent bouquet,” He saluted the bartender with his glass and returned to scanning the room.
He saw Luna and her new friend at a table, made his way over, and sat down uninvited.
“Well, hello there.” “Giovanni,” Eclipse narrowed her eyes.
“It is good to see you well.”
“Sorry about my disappearance, I was…” “Preoccupied, I understand,” he interrupted, but she continued to explain.
“…chasing a lead.”
“Did that lead happen to take you to Bankstown?”
The narrowed eyes widened at the news, “No. The first time I’ve heard of it.”
“We have our feelers out,” Dominic replied smugly, enjoying the feeling of command his drink offered, “We’ll find him shortly…we’ll find some clues shortly.”
And now Dominic turned his attention to the stranger at the table, “In the meantime, I’ll sit here enjoying this excellent drink, and who is this stray you’ve picked up?”
The social cue given, Eclipse made the introduction, “A new friend. Mads.”
“Hello, Mads, and welcome to my establishment.” “It is quite a good place you have here.” “It is supposed to be welcoming and open-minded,” The second half of that statement stressed for Mads’ consideration.
“I find it so,” Mads replied smoothly, “A credit to your taste.”
“First time here?”
“To your establishment, yes.” “And if you don’t mind me asking, what brings you into town?”
“I’m looking for an old friend of mine, and of course, I’m here for the party. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
“There are a lot of people coming in for that event.” “So exciting, “ Mads clasped her hands in anticipation, “All the movers and shakes to meet.”
“If that’s what interests you. Of course, there’ll be a great deal more in store.”
Mads leaned across the small bar table, ignoring Eclipse entirely, “Ooh, enlighten me. What are you suggesting?”
“I’m afraid I’ve tarried too long. I have to do the rounds with the rest of my guests, I’m sure you understand, “
“Of course,” Mads didn’t push the topic but leaned back in her seat, once more the charming stray Eclipse had discovered.
Dominic turned his attention to Eclipse sitting back, silently fuming.
“Luna, I realise you do not believe my nephew is on your side, but he’s on the case.”
“Thank you, Dominic.” She replied coolly and let Dominic leave their table without another word.
As Dominic did his rounds of the bar, I too was trying to work my way into the cliques and groups gathered in the V.I.P. room. Some were very clear about what they thought of my presence. Some were a little more polite with their “Fuck off!” But you never get anywhere if you let a little rejection stand in your way, so I tried again.
“Sorry, private conversation.”
Things were improving when I reached a couple, a young, fresh-faced woman in a loose cotton frock and an ancient stick of a priest.
“Oh, hi, we haven’t met,” said the woman and the twang of Southern American sang in my ears. I’d always had a fascination with the deep South, especially Louisiana and New Orleans. Being a vampire may have complicated travel, but I’d not lost hope of seeing Bourbon Street with my own eyes and soaking in the jazz.
“Good evening, the name’s Rain. Are you enjoying yourselves tonight? Our new bartender does exceptional cocktails.”
“He…does. Is he a regular here?” Asked the woman, who later introduced herself as Allicia.
“No, new tonight, though I hope he’s a regular from now on.”
The old Father, if propped up in a corner, would look like a desiccated corpse, said his name was Padre Craneo.
“You two do not strike me as regulars. I’ve not seen you in the bar before.”
“No, we’re here testing out the place,” Allicia agreed.
“A good place to test, “ I commented blandly, unsure what she was testing for.
“It does seem so. Untouched. Good rich soil.”
Allicia seemed to be talking using metaphors that I wasn’t privy to. I cursed my lack of knowledge and ploughed on.
“Mr Giovanni definitely keeps a friendly and welcoming establishment.”
“Most certainly, yes.” Allicia turned to the Padre, the silent member of the duo, “We were just getting to know each other, the Padre and me.”
“Strangers together.”
“ In a fashion. We know many of the same people. That’s what happens when you…travel.”
It was incredible and true. No matter how far you roamed, you could meet up with someone who knew the friend of a cousin of your best mate from school. I enjoyed those moments of connection. It reminded me we weren’t so far apart from each other.
“A very small world.”
“It is indeed.” “I’m just so pleased you’ve made it to the Crow Bar. We were out at the theatre tonight. There is certainly a boost to the…community currently in Sydney.”
“Oh, what did you see? Something lovely I hope.” “The Dracula play, “ I said with some pleasure. Surely, this was something we could discuss.
Allicia grimaced. The Padre made a hacking laugh that seemed to rattle around in his hollow chest.
“It’s a bit gauche, isn’t it?” Allicia finally admitted, and I could see how some would not appreciate Dracula’s audacity, “You do know about him, yes?”
“ I know what the world knows. I know he’s somehow shared his story with the world without the Masquerade falling to ruin. I consider that a pretty bold move.”
“He’s a bad egg. He did all that, risking all our lives, but he’s also not very… friendly. He doesn’t let anyone in. he’s made his sandbox and built a big ten-foot wall around it. Told the rest of us to go…have fun.” Allicia’s language was sweet, but it was clear she had strong feelings in regard to the character of Dracula.
“And yet he wants to reach out, be known, and be out in the world. Would that not be a cry for help?”
“We all want to be famous and loved, “Allicia said, and her pretty blue eyes bore into me as if she could read that very thought from my head, “I’m sure you understand. We both have that in common.”
That little hint I understood and acknowledged with a nod and a smile. She was also claiming to be a Toreador.
“Ah yes, yes, that sounds about right.”
“I was having a chat with the Padre here about his side of things, as he calls it,” Allicia said, changing the subject and drawing the silent Padre back into the conversation, “It seems like a lot of things have been happening. How…how young are you again?”
“Oh,” And now they would politely excuse themselves and find another group to talk to, “Yes, very I’m afraid, Allicia, but I’m very keen to understand our society, and I can assure you I’ve seen a great deal in my short life.”
“You may have, and…” Here she turned to the Padre, “Excuse Padre for being forward, but you should not be talking with him. It would be too difficult for you to speak to one still closely tied to their living experiences.”
She turned her blue eyes back to me, apologetic but firm, “You see, he comes from a very specific group of our kind. They have requirements that are unsavoury to those who aren’t ready for it.” At this, the old man moves aside a long strip of his robes and reveals a partially chewed human forearm. He raised it to his lips and nibbled the flesh a little before replacing it in his robes.
Silently, I thanked Allicia for her warning, but a lifetime of nightmares and experiencing the removal of the bane had certainly helped harden me to the more extreme images. Besides, the old Padre seemed a gentle soul…outside the eating of human flesh. I swallowed and looked both Allicia and the Padre straight in the eye.
“I apologise. It is not my place or intent to make a guest feel uncomfortable.”
“No, you would feel uncomfortable.”
I smiled. It may have been a ghost of one, but I relaxed my stance and brushed the thought aside with a wave of a hand.
“I guess someone should teach you as your sire certainly hasn’t. His bloodline is known as the Nagaraja. They can’t exist on the blood alone but must consume all their victims. We can enjoy a nice glass and pretend, but the Padre must eat. Fifty years ago, I would have felt the same as you. It’s unconscionable, unthinkable to allow something like that to exist, but time has given me a different perspective. Something you don’t have yet.”
Was it unconscionable? Didn’t humans sit down to a rare steak of calf or a roast lamb leg? Cannibalism is only condemned by culture. My life had made me a student of cultural norms. I’d had to navigate through so many without causing unexpected ripples. As long as he didn’t ask me to share in his meal, who was I to say he couldn’t? I knew the loss of human life that our lifestyle perpetuated. Hadn’t I assisted Dominic with the disposal of what we so politely called kegs? In some senses, the Padre’s nose-to-tail way of life was at least not wasteful.
“And yet here, at the Crow bar, we try to cater to everyone,” I continued earnestly, hoping that Dominic would agree, “There’s no problem here.”
“Oh? Are you the maitre d’ of this establishment?” Allicia asks, catching me off guard. I found that I wanted her good opinion and so far it didn’t seem to be going well. Should I steal the title with Dominic metres away?
“I like the term Host, but yes, I try to perform that role for our guests,” A half lie. Always better, “But the owner is in the room as we speak,” And I pointed out Dominic to the interested Allicia and Padre as my adoptive sire strutted around the V.I.P. room like a prized cock.
“Dominic Giovanni.” “He certainly looks the part,” Allicia commented, “The suit, the slicked-back hair, the faint tones of abuse.”
Looked the part for what? I thought, but kept to myself. Instead, I made another assumption and hoped it would hit some mark.
“Yes, I understand he is an archetype for his breed. And yet, I am pleased to call him my adoptive sire.”
The Padre tried to nibble from his brought-from-home buffet without drawing attention to himself. He was obviously finding it awkward, and I felt sorry for the old man. It was like watching an old junkie trying to find a vein. Ultimately, you have to either do something or just turn away.
“Sir, could I suggest the privacy of one of the booths? We could draw the curtains, and you may eat in peace.”
“Are you offering us a seat?” Allicia asked, and again, I felt there was more in her phrasing than I was picking up on.
“There are seats to be had,” I bowed and led the way to an empty booth. There, the two did what they could to fill the gaping holes in my knowledge of vampire society.
“My, Rain is certainly the socialite, isn’t he,” Mads said as she and Eclipse watched Rain moving about the room.
“Rain is…he’ll talk your ear off if you let him. But it’s all honeyed words and sweet dreams. It comes with the territory of being a rotting flower.”
“It’s a shame. But at least it would be a good conversation,” Mads replied, playing with her glass, “But back to our conversation. After all, we are dealing in favours here.”
Eclipse sighed. Thinking about Izac was…uncomfortable. The small, insistent voice of Luna nagged her to do something, to care about him and not let him fall. Maybe this woman could help. If she were his friend, she’d want him back as well.
“Out of our coterie, I was the closest to Izac, so I could tell you what he did in the last three weeks.”
“Anything of note he’s done during that time?”
“He has no heart, so he can’t be staked.” Mads laughed. The sound was sharp and direct, “You think I’m here just to kill him? That’s so cute.” “No,” Eclipse said honestly, “Between the two of you, I don’t think you’d survive.”
The observation cooled Mad’s mood somewhat, and the laughter faltered, “Maybe not, but I’m not here to fight him either.” “Things of note…he has been dealing with werewolves. His predisposition means they consider him safe, a ‘good boy’. He can move through them in ways we can’t. He’s of interest to the Prince. That’s why you found me at the Opera House.”
“Why were you looking for the Prince there?” “To wait for him, “ Eclipse, aware of how much she was giving away, brought the question back to Mads, “Why were you at the Opera House? You said you were checking things out but…in the middle of the Prince’s domain is a pretty sketchy place to be. How do you know so much?”
“Call it serendipity,” Mads gestured as if she had nothing to hide.
Dominic felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He scanned the room, looking for Luna and Rain, sure they were embarrassing him for the second time that night. Rain was in a booth talking to a couple, and neither of the newcomers looked much, so he disregarded them. Luna was still with the Mads creature. It was then he noticed a man with striking yellow eyes watching him. On recognising Dominic glance on him, the man flicked up his chin and smiled confidently as if in greeting. Recognising the moves of a businessman, Dominic could smell a proposition in the air and made his way over to the stranger.
“Are you having a wonderful time in my establishment?”
“The room…I can’t help but admire all the little niceties,” The man replied convinially, “Even those cameras you have hidden in the walls, “ He pointed out the location where Dominic knew the cameras were hidden.
‘I mean, one has to provide some sort of security in a place like this, “ He said, sipping his drink and feeling again the sense of command and peace the drink offered.
“I definitely agree with that. That’s why I hope to make a business deal with you.”
“Hmm, let’s discuss your deal away from the noise of the room,” Dominic said and led the stranger to a quiet corner where their voices wouldn’t carry, and lip readers would have a hard time getting a view.
“Have you had trouble gaining information digitally recently? Your cloud services not up to scratch? I’m here to talk about steel-clad security, something the Nosferatu would envy.”
Distrustful as he was, Dominic had overseen all the security the Club and his other enterprises ran through. Bruce, however, handled the day-to-day security, and it had been some time since it had been established. Security was a concern, but Dominic didn’t feel confident talking about it with a stranger.
“Just what sort of security are you talking about?”
“The future. A more adaptable provider who can deal with threats at a moment’s notice. More up-to-date cameras so you can see in infrared and white light. Edit and enhance video and audio clips. AI face recognition software to spot trouble before it starts. Instantaneously. It’s the future. A good deal, right?”
Dominic was unsure what this guy was trying to sell. What was clear was he was a Ventrue trying to make a deal. What other sort were there?
“What sort of hardware are you offering?”
“You give me enough time, and we will make you a good enough deal, and I’ll upgrade the lot.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have any brochures or samples?”
“Sure,” the Ventrue pulled out an iPad and flicked through pages of specifications. Most of it seemed to be related to systems security, but without reading through it carefully, he couldn’t have said what it all meant. There were details of cameras with multiple sensors for picking up visible light, infrared light, and something else that seemed to talk about displacement. A cloud server uploaded to a location in the Balkans with the option of a black box recorder, just in case the worst should happen. It did seem to be comprehensive and impressive, at least in terms of Dominic’s experience. Fortunately for him, he didn’t rely just on his own experience.
“If you don’t mind waiting a moment, I’m going to get my head of security to take a look at this,” He said, intrigued by what an upgrade to security could offer. “Sure, I’ll be waiting here.” The Stranger smiled, confident and assured.
12.00 am Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 6 days until the Succubus Club Crowbar, Leichhardt
This question has haunted who I used to be. Nowhere to go and nothing to accomplish, the soul becomes hungry for what it does not have. It thrusts for something it has never tasted.
I am not her. I walk in her skin. I use her face and her friends but we are not the same. Not after the Pit.
I died in there and for the first time I truly tasted what I had become famished for.
Purpose
Was I the voice inside Luna or was she the mask I wore until I became what I was truly meant to be?
I am the lowest of the low. I have died twice.
I have changed and not for what I must accomplish.
No. Goals change like tides and all my actions will lead me back to that ever consuming Serpent. It knows, when it is all said and done, I am a part of it and it is a part of me.
The question is no longer, who are you. The question has become where do you draw the line?
I now have a distinct lack of care for those around me. They are obsolete. They can not fill the void that has been carved into the middle of my chest.
The throne is my guarantee. None of them will stand in the way of the eternity promised by my hand. By my actions.
What does that make me?
What have I become…
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Allicia: Toreador Vampire met at the Crow Bar
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Blanco Falzo: A man who had made into a likeness of Stallion’s dog for a time. Now deceased.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Days of the Week: Pseudonyms for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of. She is Sunday, and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson, though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Wollongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Lambach Ruthven: Kin met at the theatre. Sire of Dracula. Drug addict.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Padre Craneo: Nagaraja vampire met at the Crow Bar
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sebastian Melmoth: Kin met at the theatre. Powerful Toreador.
Shara-had: Banu Haqim (Assamite).
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
The Woman: A powerful being of unknown name who kidnapped Izac and enchanted Rain.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Short for Kindred. Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Nagaraja: A bloodline that are obligated to eat the flesh as well as the blood of their victims.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
8.50pm Friday 10 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubEnroute
THANKS FOR LAST NIGHT I REALLY NEEDED TO LET OFF SOME STEAM. HOW ARE YOU FEELING?
I texted Brendan as the limousine rolled sedately over the ANZAC bridge and down into the canyons of the city towards the State Theatre. Father was trying to get the family to play nice together, but it was clear that Luna and Izac only wanted their own company and Stallion slouched along like a disgruntled teenager. For my part, I was excited at the thought of a night at the theatre.
Outside of a few friends’ performances, going to the theatre in Sydney was a luxury I couldn’t imagine. The bonus that the night’s performance was a theatrical version of Dracula by Bram Stoker was an irony I wasn’t going to overlook. Real vampires at a play written by a vampire about his life in a world that believes it is all fiction. I was impressed with Vlad’s boldness in putting his life out for everyone to see. Brashly ignoring the tenets so successfully that even the mightiest who would see him to his final death can’t touch him. What would it be like to feel that invincible? It was sort of…inspiring.
I looked at my phone. No reply.
The limousine rolled up in front of a theatre entrance of carved golden sandstone (a particular feature of Sydney) and tiles lit by circles of lights like chandeliers. Stepping out of the car, I took in the spectacle. I must have walked up and down Market Street dozens of times and never seen this wonder hidden in the city’s depths.
Inside was an even more glorious spectacle of Art Nuevo. Warm golden marble lined every surface that wasn’t covered with an intricately laid mosaic in the form of a compass rose and geometric patterns. Grecian-styled statued stood in niches made for them below rich velvet draperies. At the base of a double staircase, two bronze candelabras lit the scene. If this jewel could lie hidden from sight, what other mysteries did the City hold?
As Dominic claimed the tickets, his childe stood in a huddle, watching the crowd around us. This was far too good an opportunity not to view the world through Auspex, so turned it on and revelled in the colours around me. Excited violet, generous rose, and happy vermillion mingled through the crowd of kin and kine alike. And there were kin, as soon as I put on Auspex several turned to look at me as if I’d laughed too loud, their colours suspicious…curious. I was momentarily stunned they could tell, but didn’t let it worry me and gave them a short bow and a wave-like salute, recognising their attention.
Luna had been quietly watching a group for a short while when she slapped me with the back of her hand and pointed out a character wearing a skull masquerade mask in flashy robes, enthusiastically talking to two other vampires. In fact, there were three groups of vampires, quietly talking and seemingly ignoring the others around a smiling Prince Sarrasine. One seemed to be two kin hidden behind obfuscate illusions as they talked to a tall, curly-headed man in a studded leather jacket. In the second, two talked as a third with long, greasy hair stood and listened, a head flask in one hand. The third held Skull-mask and a small group of followers, who copied my actions flawlessly. The quiet one with the long hair tilted his head in my direction and gave a little gun salute. Taking that as a positive sign, I made my way through the crowd towards him.
Dominic handed out the tickets and noticed where Luna was watching. He scowled, recognising the long-haired kindred from New York, a Tzimisce called Lambach Ruthven. A raving fool, but one still given some level of respect amongst his clan. His scowl only deepened as he saw me walk up to the venerable kin without introduction.
“Hello there, child,” said the vampire with long hair in a deep and rich voice with Eastern European tones, though with a distinct New York accent. I felt almost at home in that voice, and now spoken to, was free to communicate with my elder and supposedly better.
“Good evening, sir. It’s a lovely night. Looking forward to the performance?” It was banal drivel, but with a purpose. This was about drawing him out without being too obnoxious or rude. Regardless of what Dominic thinks, I do know how to carry myself in social situations.
“Just reliving memories,” he replied cryptically, much like the Prince. It was as if, with all their accumulated history, they’d rather interact through their memories. Or he was drunk. It could have been both.
“So, you knew the… original?” I gestured to the closed doors of the theatre itself by way of explanation. Eastern European, old, it wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine their paths had crossed.
“Oh, I know him,” He said adamantly, confirming my suspicions but providing no other details.
“Fascinating. My name is Rain,” I held out a hand, unsure of etiquette in such a situation, “I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Charmed,” He took my hand.
“You’re accent is delightful. What part of the world do you originally come from?” I asked, sure that my own held a similar taint I’d been unable to drop over the years.
“What a question…” He said, and I felt a tingle as I realised I’d stepped over some invisible line. Dammit, this was exactly the sort of thing I’d been fearing, “Tell me, how old are you?”
“Ah, you are correct, sir. I am but a babe to this world. Lost in its canyons of culture that trip me up and make me stumble.”
“In that case, the Black Forest will suffice.”
Not exactly where I’d placed him, but still a place evoking stories and myths for centuries. A strip of land inside the German border, often squabbled over by forces from future France and Switzerland. A place where magic was known to happen.
“A mysterious land, full of myth and legends,” I said, hoping that his chosen topic may draw him out.
“If that’s how you choose to describe it. Sure, “He dismissed my reply as I felt he was dismissing me. He started scanning the crowd.
“How would you describe it, sir?”
“An ocean of blood. Towers of flesh. Souls as black as the forest itself.”
“Terrible, but great stories,” I replied, trying to match his tone, but I felt I was missing my audience with this one.
“Hmm, surely you’re not here by yourself?” He asked, and another ‘in’ presented itself.
“No, I’m here with my coterie…” “And where are they?”
I pointed them out. His interest was piqued when he saw Dominic.
“How many are you?”
“There’s five of us, including our adopted sire, Mr Giovanni.”
“You’re missing one.” “Am I?” I glanced around. Izac was missing from the group. I soon found his tall, lanky frame and yellow and orange static aura edging around the outskirts of the growing crowd, “I couldn’t say where he’s gone.”
I watched as Izac’s aura edged right into a vermillion and violet aura draped with black vines, that of a very pleased Prince Sarrasine.
9.10 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubThe State Theatre
“And what are you doing all by yourself?” The Prince cooed at Izac, stopping the young vampire in his tracks, “Just the two of us, all alone.”
“I didn’t expect you to come to the theatre,” Izac lifted his chin and did his best to stand his ground.
“We always do. It’s always good to study,” The Prince replied cryptically as ever.
Izac ignored it and ploughed ahead, “Reminiscing on old times still?”
“More like…I’m taking notes.”
“A studious man?”
“We have to be. One has to know their enemies.”
“And just who are your enemies exactly?”
“Well, We have our corner of the world here, and he has his over there,” Not naming a name, but it wasn’t required when Dracula was splashed, dripping crimson, across every poster, “There’s always some truth to be gleaned from the sad little fictions we make for ourselves.”
“Is there anything I can do for you tonight?” Izac asked, hoping the answer would be no.
“Maybe. Maybe, We’ll see how you go.” The Prince glanced over the crowd but gave no sign he saw any of us, “Making friends, I trust.”
“Always,” Izac replied and couldn’t help but make a snarky comment, “I assume you’re not taking part in the performance tonight?”
“No…no,” The Prince recalled the last performance he’d given in front of Izac and smiled at the memory.
“Oh, really, but you did such a good job last time,” Sarcasm is not Izac’s strongest card.
“Of course, but this is beneath Us.” And Izac noted the use of the Royal ‘we’.
“You can do whatever you like,” The Prince waved at Izac as if he were as free to do as his heart desired. Shame he didn’t know where it was. ”With our dispensation and permission, of course.”
And with that little reminder of what control he held, Izac was dismissed.
“I guess I should be getting back to the others,” He said and started backing away.
“You should,” The Prince agreed, glancing over at the rest of us, standing near the long-haired kin, “It looks as though they’re having fun with the Russian.”
“Friend of yours?
“No,” The Prince replied empathically and gave no other explanation.
Surprised by the Prince’s seeming forthrightness, Izac did a double-take, but he couldn’t get a read on what the monosyllabic answer meant.
“Be careful around that one. He’s old and does command some power.” “Is he liable to cause problems?”
“Not for one such as Us, but to you? Your coterie? I feel you together would not be able to beat him.” It almost sounded like a challenge.
“Thanks for the information.”
“Be careful. He might turn you into a tuning fork.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Then be friendly. Be merry. Be a Pal,” The Prince smiled, and Izac decided his tolerance for the Prince’s cryptic threats had reached its limit.
“You have yourself a nice night. My Prince.”
“I’d tell you to behave yourself, but We don’t think We need to tell you that.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I could see the Prince smirking at Izac’s discomfort. His depressed and anxious colours swirled into a cloud of red anger, bitter brown and purple aggression. Izac’s baleful eyes met mine across the crowd. I didn’t need to read his mind to see the anger dissolve under a heavy blanket of gold-edge grey, a depression only made brighter by his faith in his cause to make things better, the poor fool. He was trapped between two powers, and feeling lost.
“Would you like to meet my coterie?” I asked the long-haired vampire whose name still alluded me.
“I’ll probably not care for them very much, but you’re young, and you probably need to learn things from these petty distractions,”
“Willing and able to learn, yes,” I caught Dominic’s malevolent eye and ushered them all over. Stallion rolled his eyes, clearly displaying he didn’t care. Luna was searching and finally found Izac. Dominic looked like he’d like to be anywhere besides talking to the Stranger, but he still tapped the others on the shoulder and drew them along.
“It seems we picked a very opportune night, Mr Giovanni,” I said once they were in conversational earshot.
“Greetings, Lambach. It’s been a long time since New York.”
“Yes. I’m surprised you got out of that city, I know how your kind like it there.” I was starting to regret the introduction.
“New York always holds a…certain place in my heart,” Dominic agreed with his words but seemed ready to lash out at Lambach. There was history there, and it was good to see Dominic could hold his own.
“Wherever you are, you always seem to get a profit out of it,” Lambach bit back, hardly a slur in a business town like Sydney, and Dominic took it as a compliment.
“Well, we are good at doing that.” He laughed quietly, as if they were old friends, not slinging insults at each other, “I still have business interests in New York.”
“Bad times, though. Many go underground or are eaten out by the natives for them to be destroyed in return. It just keeps happening.”
I watched as Lambach’s aura swirled aggressive purple, angry red and bitter brown. Was he blaming the Giovanni’s or even Dominic himself for the atrocities that happened in New York?
“It does seem to be a regular juggling act as to who’s in charge there,” Dominic agreed. In that, they seemed to be united. I’d spent a bit of time there a few years before, and the city had been going through an urban renewal. To think, just under the surface, a civil war of sorts was destroying an ancient society.
“And the Giovanni’s playing both sides.” A barefaced accusation, smoothly dealt with by Dominic’s calm hand.
“I like to think of it as playing no sides.”
Suddenly, Lambach seemed to bore of the game they’d been playing and turned his attention to the coterie.
“And these, your childe?” He asked incredulously.
“These are my adoptive childe. I believe Stallion here has similar taste to yours, “ Giovanni dropped, and now we all knew. Lambach liked his blood tainted just like Stallion.
Lambach, in turn took notice of Stallion, “At the end of this, would you introduce me to your herd?”
“Hmm…ur…what do you mean herd?” Stallion asked, now finding himself the centre of attention.
“They are fresh, aren’t they?” Lambach turned back to Dominic.
“They’re only a few months out of the ground,” He supplied.
“If I wished to eat, “ Lambach turned back to Stallion and, if talking to an idiot, enunciated clearly and slowly, “would you provide a meal?”
“Ah, yes, I can always do that,” Stallion replied with all confidence. I didn’t doubt his ability to hunt, but to capture someone without breaking the Masquerade? Only at the Crow Bar.
“For a friend of Giovanni is a friend of mine,” He added, and the elder vampires smirked at the mutual joke.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Dominic said as Lambach laughed darkly and without humour.
“No, if you would be so kind to offer a meal, guilt-free, no headaches, one would be indebted,” Lambach continued.
“It could be arranged,” Dominic answered. It was his coterie, and would be in his domain, it only made sense, but Lambach seemed to take offence at the offer.
“Not you, from him,” Lambach pointed at Stallion.
“Ah, you want the personal delivery,”
“Or just arrange it at the very least, “ His bloodshot eyes glanced back over at Dominic, “I trust the dogman over you. No offence meant to you…Stallion,” Lambach was becoming more and more incoherent as his latest meal took effect.
“I’m pretty sure some have heard about the rap I made,” Stallion replied as something of nonsequitur. I’d thought we’d agreed that it was a bad idea to mention the rap, but who knew what he remembered these days.
“I’m no mere dog. I’m the lion.”
“Quaint,” Labach replied and now turned his attention to Luna, “And you, young girl. There’s something dark about you.”
“We’re all part of the night. We’re bound to be dark,” Luna replied smoothly.
“Poetic…no, you’re not a Toreador, but that’s a good hussle. I guess it’s just one of the many secrets.”
“I’m sure you have plenty,” She retorted, catching his attention.
“Surprisingly, no, and the ones I do know… no one cares to believe.”
“Does that make them real secrets or not?” She teased back, daring him.
“Probably not, no. The only apparent secret I have is…” And he paused, teasing back.
“That secret being?” Luna took the bait.
“Well, you are intriguing. If you tell me what you are, I’ll tell you the secret.”
I looked at Luna at that moment. Had she changed so much that she no longer registered as Brujah? Was the darkness I was seeing a new bloodline? I may have been reading too much into it, Luna had always said I overthought things. But, it would explain why she was no longer my Luna.
For her part, Luna thought silently.
“All you have to do is come close to my ear,” Labach said, holding out his hand.
She shrugged and leaned into his hand, and it grew an ear.
I’ve been changed from what I once was.
What he heard amused him, and he smiled, “ Move closer to hear my secret,” He said, and the ear turned into a mouth.
I am here to see the performance of my child.
Whatever he said to her sent his aura silver, and an expression of guilt or shame flicker across his face. He dropped his hands and put on an unaffected expression, “Of course, I tell you this purely because you are of no consequence.”
Behind her, we all winced, but Luna seemed to take it better than usual. A nod of the head acknowledging the statement, and she rose without another word.
It was then that Izac rejoined the group, pointing out the arrival of the ushers and the opening of the gold doors into the theatre proper. Giving Lambach our farewells, we headed to our seats.
9.20 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubThe State Theatre
We had seats D13 -18 on the Mezzanine level, Izac in the aisle, then Luna, Dominic, Stallion, and finally me, with a seat between me and the next audience member. The show was sold out, clear by how quickly the crowd filled the auditorium. From our seats, we could see Lambach stumble to his seat close to the stage, row B of the stalls. Somewhere above us the Prince was sitting with the group, which included Skull-mask. The joyous curly-haired kin in the leather jacket was just above us in the perfect seats, H30, in the centre of the auditorium.
“Good work surviving again,” I said to Izac as I shuffled past. He pretended not to hear me, but his aura…blushed…with remembered anger.
The performance hadn’t even begun, and Stallion was already fidgiting in his seat.
Dominic leaned over and whispered in his ear, the words quiet but with power, “Pay attention.”
“To what? The stage or the crowd?” Stallion asked as if he’d been told to jump, and he wanted to know how high.
“The stage.”
My phone buzzed, and I quickly reached into my pocket.
RECOVERING, Came back the text from Brendan. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and quickly replied back.
NEED A LITTLE FIRST AID? A LITTLE OF THE DOG THAT BIT YOU?
NO, NOT THAT KIND. I’M GOOD. He answered quickly enough, but the tone, if tone could be gleaned from six words, seemed a little cool. Distant. Still, he was alive and talking to me, and I would be content with that.
I settled down to watch the show, but found myself drawn to the two kin we could see from our seats. Lambach below, a row from the front near the aisle, all hateful black and grey depression. This play was a self-inflicted personal torture for…what…the shame and guilt he displayed earlier? Behind us, leather jacket was the complete opposite, a joyous cloud of violet, rose and, my favourite, vermillion. Unlike many of the other kin who seemed to be there to be seen, he was there to enjoy the show. I was curious who he was? What did he see when he watched the show?
As the curtain rose and the performance began, at the other end of our line, Luna was sinking into her chair. She had thought the show would be an amusing waste of time, a frippery to placate Dominic. The more she watched and heard from the stage, the more she was aware of the purpose of the performance. Everything, the staging, every line of dialogue, the lighting, even the audience, was one huge celebration of Vlad Dracul. As the show continued, she got a very clear impression that it wasn’t so much a celebration as the hugest boast and an ‘up yours’ to the whole vampire community. The show made Dracula out to be a sympathetic character who loved and was loved in return. Forget that he broke the rules of his community by revealing himself and deserved second death. He was so spectacularly successful, kine all over the world now spoke of him, wrote of him, wanted to be like him, while every other vampire lived in the shadows, unknown and unspoken.
He’s shitting on every other kin! She thought, fuming, He won and this show is him rubbing their noses in it. Rubbing MY nose in it!
Sure, come and see a play, it will be fun. Fun my arse!
Beside her, Izac had noticed her shift from amused attention to cursing under her breath. The Prince’s thoughts on the play rolled around in his mind. He refocused his efforts to see how the Prince viewed the play. Keeping tabs on his enemies, studying their words and actions, to try and glean truths about their real nature. It was a type of mental gymnastics Izac was unfamiliar with, but he started comparing the presentation in front of him to other portrayals. This seemed to show another facet of Dracula, beyond the womanising, blood-sucker he was usually portrayed as. Certainly, it seemed try to justify Dracula’s stance in coming out to the world. There didn’t seem to be anything in the play that should upset Luna so much, and yet, he could feel her tensing up beside her.
“You’re not enjoying this?” He whispered to her, “Is it that he got away with it?”
“No, I’m not,” She rasped back, “And we have to sit here pretending to like it.”
“We don’t have to sit here and watch it,” He suggested with a smirk.
“What? Leave in the middle of the show? We’re not even ten minutes in.”
“So, you’re going to sit and be miserable?”
“Are you?” A dark eyebrow raised, and Luna turned in her seat to face Izac.
“Shhh!” Dominic interjected, “You’re embarrassing yourself.” For a moment or two, the scheming duo were silent. Izac pulled out his phone.
YOU CLEARLY DON’T LIKE THIS AND YOU DIDN’T PAY FOR IT SO….I HAVE TO STAY. I HAVE A LEASH KEEPING ME IN THIS SEAT.
I SAW HIM EARLIER. I WOULD HAVE WARNED YOU BUT I LOST SIGHT OF YOU WHEN RAIN PASSED BY ME. A SLOW NIGHT WAITS FOR US. BETTER NOT TO LEAVE YOU HERE TO SUFFER ALONE.
WHO KNOWS. NIGHTS YOUNG. COMPANY IS BETTER. STILL FEEL EMPTY THOUGH.
Luna squirmed around in her seat until she could reach over and grasp hold of Izac’s forearm. Izac recognised the move as something from before, old Luna, but couldn’t put aside my warnings. He didn’t move. Her hand slid down his arm, taking his hand in hers. Giving into the comfort of touch, he gently squeezed her hand back in return.
I was oblivious to all this at the other end of the row. Recognising Stallion’s boredom I started pointing out theatrical tricks to him. They used a Fisher’s Ghost style effect to portray Dracula floating into a room as a fog, and with perfect timing, revealed the actor with a spotlight as he approached the bed of the soon-to-be-late, Lucy Westenra. Stallion didn’t seem impressed and doggedly stared at the stage as if his eyeballs were pinned to it. I let my mind drift, and as happens at those times, my eyes lifted to the intricately box-worked ceiling of the theatre. And that’s when I saw them. Two pale auras floating in front of the ceiling. I looked around and saw another two above the stage and a fifth above Dress Circle where the Prince sat. They were the same auras I’d seen when we’d returned to the Prince after dealing with the mage.
Security? Probably. To be expected, really. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they be down in the audience enjoying the show?
At the very least, Dominic was enjoying the show. He’d seen the play before and was noticing subtle differences in the performance of Doctor Van Helsing. Serious lines were played for comic relief, if a lightening of the mood was required, it would come from the jocular Doctor. It was part caricature, part right-wing shock jock. The character seemed to revel in the accurate details of vampirism, the uses of garlic and crucifixes as if giving a lecture on the topic. All round it seemed that Dracula was pushing home his point that vampires are real and exist to the kine in the audience.
I was starting to think the same as Renfield made his first appearance in the play, eating spiders and howling for his master. The actor really hammed up Renfield’s filth, both external and internal, and I nearly laughed out loud as I realised his splotchy aura marked him out as a ghoul. I shared my discovery with Stallion, pleased with the irony. He didn’t care. I did spot the pale ovals of Izac, and Luna’s faces turn at the little snippet of irony, though.
I wonder if he’s not the real Renfield. I mused, but kept that idea to myself for later dissection.
Izac let his mind drift back to the audience around us and saw the kin in the leather coat staring daggers in our direction. Izac started, as he hadn’t realised our shenanigans would have reached so far. He then realised the curly-haired vampire wasn’t just looking at him…but into him. A thrill of fear swept through him, and suddenly, he felt guilt and shame for interrupting this vampire’s enjoyment of the show. Izac should have known better.
People paid good money and maybe hundreds of years to see something like this performance and didn’t need to be interrupted by the likes of you. Talking through it as if the words coming out of your mouth were as remotely important as what’s happening on the stage. Have some respect. Just behave.
Now, instead of the Prince, the main thought inside Izac’s head was, How am I going to make it up to that guy?
Luna looked between Izac and the vampire, waving his hands in their direction and knew something was up.
Do something! Break their line of sight! Help him! Luna’s voice cried out, yet the cold fire of Eclipse soon burnt it into silence.
Why should I? It’s between them. Let them burn. Let it all burn.
She turned back to the stage and continued to hate on the wankfest.
Dominic, having seen all this go one, shrugged and returned his thoughts to the stage.
At least he’s not my problem.
Once again, I was oblivious to what was going. I turned back from the stage to see Izac’s aura greyed, his expression remorseful and ashamed. Izac was often a cloud of negative emotions but guilt and shame were not common features. I looked around, saw nothing that should have caused this change in Izac’s mood and quickly sent off a message.
YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF.
SURE, Was his only reply as he fidgeted in his seat, glancing back over his shoulder.
What can I do to make it up to him? What does he want? What do I want? Maybe he wants that too! I want things to be better than they are. I want things to change. I want a place without monsters. Everything worth holding onto, I’ve lost, multiple times. Why is that? What’s the common denominator? Is my action or inaction that causes me to lose…everything? Izac’s thoughts spiralled, driving all other thought from his head, until he was unable to concentrate on anything else. I have to make good with the Handsome Gentleman. Can I? I can!
A brilliant idea swept aside the spiralling thoughts as he stepped out of his seat and into the aisle. He ignored the filthy look from Dominic and the sharp glance from Luna, and hunted over the audience of the Mezzanine for the eye of the Handsome Gentleman. He then headed to the back of the auditorium and through the golden doors to wait.
He didn’t wait long.
9.50 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubThe State Theatre
The Handsome Gentleman was tall, an inch taller than Izac himself, but whereas Izac was rake-thin and gangly, the Handsome Stranger was proportional, even a little padded out. Out of heavy-lids, pale blue eyes rested lightly on Izac’s.
“Well?”
“I’d like to extend my heartfelt apologies for my behaviour.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Even in these dim and dirty days, I’m glad to hear there still exists an ounce of humanity and gentlemanly behaviour. The spark of the divine still shines,” The Handsome Gentleman said in a voice high, cultured and used to being heard, “And I appreciate you giving me that gift. That a pauper such as you could offer me such civility. Thank you.”
Inside, somewhere deep, Izac seethed. And yet, he couldn’t turn away, couldn’t leave this spot, in front of the Handsome Gentleman.
“Now that you have my attention, I’d like to know the name of this fine, refined urchin. What are you called?”
“My name is Izac.”
“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Izac. And just so you know, people who know call me Sebastian Melmoth. Those looking for a good time, call me Sabbi.” The small, full mouth pouted a little, teasingly.
“And where can I find you, Sabastian, if I were looking for such things?” Izac asked.
“Well, this is just a prelude to the main event, is it not? Now, don’t be shy or cautious. I’m sure you know what I’m referring to?”
For a moment, Izac had no idea what event could be coming up. But there was really only event coming up that I couldn’t help but mention.
“This is a prelude?” He asked, and the great shaggy head nodded sagely.
“Some of us are arriving early for business or just to enjoy the personal joke that is this play,” He waved a hand to the stage hidden behind the golden doors.
“Yes, the comedy is here,” Izac agreed sarcastically.
“The man was so full of himself he committed it to paper, and now he fills theatres, projection halls, games and the zeitgeist of the Western world, purely of himself. Without even being here, his presence and influence expands.” “He sounds like a smart man.”
“Oh, flattery will get you somewhere. Make sure he hears you say that,” A long delicate pointer finger like that of a pianist reached out and touched Izac on the chest.
Words were one thing, but physical contact and Sebastian’s swarmy nature broke the charm for Izac. He started to step away.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your entertainment.”
“You could…try keeping me here longer…are you offering anything?”
“What could I offer you?”
“Well, I don’t get hard labour for it now,” And all one hundred and ninety-one centimetres of Sebastian stepped that little closer. In boots, he loomed over Izac, “Or do you not swing that way?”
Izac tried not to show on his face what he thought, “I’m afraid I’m not that way inclined. Enjoy the rest of your show.”
“Well, thank you. I’ll be keeping an eye out for you after the show, Izac. You seem an interesting sort.” “Ask the Prince,” Izac replied, his voice dead flat and desperate to end this conversation.
“Can I have your hand, please?”
“Why?”
“Indulge me, one gentleman to another?” Sebastian held out his beautifully manicured hand, facing upwards.
Reluctantly, Izac placed his hand on top of Sebastians. With his left hand on top, Sebastian clasped Izac’s and a small spark, like an electric shock, past between them. He released Izac’s hand as if nothing had happened.
“As I said, it was so nice of you to apologise the way you did and so quickly. Much quicker than most. You’re a good boy. Now, go sit down with your coterie.”
Izac, full of undirected anger, looked at the doors back into the auditorium, then down the foyer to the glass doors that emptied onto the street. In a tiny act of defiance, he didn’t return to his seat but marched down the empty foyer and out into the cool of the night.
Market Street is a busy link between Pitt Street and the shopping district and George Street and the entertainment sector. It’s never really quiet, but at that moment, it felt like the first chance Izac had had to breathe since locking eyes with Sebastian. The bustle of the street was a balm, and he just stood having nowhere to go as long as it wasn’t back into the theatre.
Slowly, without any obvious announcement, Izac was suddenly aware that someone was behind him. He turned around to see a dark-skinned man in a simple suit staring back at him.
“What do you want?” Izac said, at least the words left his mind, and his lips made the shapes, but there was no sound. In fact, there was no sound anywhere. The general noisy background of a city street had gone, leaving absolute silence and this man’s voice.
“It’s time,” The man said and gestured down the street. Izac tried resisting. It resulted in freezing to the spot with indecision before finally giving in and following. As they past, people looked up at Izac and the man confused, as if they, too, sensed the lack of sound.
By the side of the road where no parking signs usually kept the road clear, a dark blue Mustang waited. The man gestured to the passenger side of the car and waited for Izac to enter.
“Can you tell me where we’re going?” Izac tried again, and as before, no sound, not even in his head. Izac stopped at the car as the man opened the door for him.
Do I have to? He said in his mind, but the man did not respond, Could I at least have a name. Nothing.
He got into the passenger seat.
The door closed, and the dark-skinned man climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. Izac could feel the motor kick over, the small vibration of the engine idling through the cabin of the car, but no sound at all. The car turned out into traffic and, within seconds was lost in the rest of the traffic on George Street.
9.50 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubThe State Theatre
Luna waited ten minutes by her phone before making a move to see what had happened to Izac. For the twelfth time she looked back to empty H30 and saw Leather Jacket had returned, but of Izac there was nothing.
Something’s wrong, She said to herself rising from her seat to gain a hiss from Dominic, I’m going to find him.
She passed through the golden doors into the foyer. It was empty. She jogged down the mosaic-tiled foyer to the glass doors and stepped out into the night. Just the usual push and shove of city crowds. As she looked down the street, a dark blue car turned left on to George Street and disappeared from view, but if she saw it, she didn’t think anything of it.
People don’t just disappear into thin air, She comforted herself, and yet Izac seemed to have done exactly that.
Three blocks away sound returned to Izac’s world. Everyday sounds were a blessed relief to the mind-numbing silence of the past several minutes, and he relaxed enough to speak to his captor.
“Can I at least have a name?”
“You could, “ The man said conversationally, not taking his eyes off the road, “If it would help.”
“I don’t get told shit, so anything you can throw my way…”
“Shara-had,” The man interrupted and Izac rolled the name around in his brain a moment or two. It was unfamiliar.
“What group do you represent?”
“Hmm, an odd question,” Shara-had mused casually, as if they were old friends discussing philosophy, “You’re too young to know the complexities of that question.”
“What Clan…Bloodline…shit like that,” Izac rattled off, frustrated at Shara-had’s belittlement and his own impotence.
“Ah, now it makes more sense. I am Banu Haqim. I am…judge, but most of the time covert work. Assassination, spycraft, information gathering.”
“Interesting Shara-had, but if you didn’t know, I’m already accounted for. Someone already has me by the balls.”
“More than one, I suspect,” Shara-had suggested, giving Izac pause. What did this guy know?
“So, are you offering to get them back for me?”
“No, I’m just delivering you.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see,” Shara-had glanced over at Izac and added just as casually, “Oh, and one last thing. As you can see, I am in touch with the modern world enough to drive a car. Hand over your mobile, or I will be forced to stake you.”
A sad, scoffing bark left Izac, “Staking won’t work on me.” “Intriguing. Are you sure?”
“That’s what I’m told,” He could feel the hollowness, and his mind drifted to the only one who helped fill it,” Can I at least say goodbye?”
Shara-had shook his head, “Can’t. It’s for your safety. Their’s really.” Leaving his right hand on the wheel, he held out his left for the phone.
Izac pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over.
From outside the Charger, the driver’s window rolled down, and a hand threw a phone against the road, smashing the screen. Seconds later, it was just a litter of plastic, metal and glass spread across George Street.
“Would you like some music?” Shara-had asked, gesturing with his now free hand, “I’ll let you pick the station.”
“Just drive,” Izac replied despondently before trying his luck one last time, “Can we make a stop? I promise not to go far.”
“Sure. Where?”
“My apartment.”
“Where you’ve been sleeping? Sure. As long as you play straight, I’ll play straight with you.”
Under the yellow glow of the State Theatre’s false chandelier, Eclipse could feel her panic rise. She wanted to burn, to rage, to destroy the puny cattle milling around her. If she had to she’d burn down the whole City searching, and laugh in the ashes.
No, not here, not now! She said, making herself breathe and focus on the facts before her.
Someone had disappeared, Izac. And as there’s no evidence of a fight, he went willingly.
She rang his phone.
“I regret to inform you that the number you have dialled is disconnected or….” Said the automatic message.
Definitely taken. But who would want him? There is a lot of interest in Izac…too many interested. Days of the Week? Maybe, but unlikely…
You could have been closer to him. Instead, you just let him get away, Luna’s voice said, If you really cared, you should have gone with him.
Shut up! Shut up! Shutup! Shutup! Eclipse growled and forced herself to think through her options.
Who can I turn to? Who has the power and influence to do something?
An image of the Prince chatting to Izac before the performance sprang to mind. And he owed her a favour.
But he’ll kill me if I disturb the performance. Could I use obfuscate to get close to him? The thought of a Masquerade breach in public, in front of the Prince, quickly squashed that idea.
I may not be able to get to him now, but I know where he hangs out. Thought and action became one as she started running up Market Street towards Macquarie Street and onwards to the Opera House.
9.50 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubThe State Theatre
Once Izac left, I started really enjoying the play. The more I watched, the more I appreciated Dracula’s political and theatrical savvy to straddle both worlds so effectively. Not saying I’d want to meet the man, but it was a path. I looked down our line of chairs and noticed that Luna was now missing. I didn’t like that. Besides her being my sister, she wasn’t exactly stable, and I feared what she might do if she were running around alone. I sent a quick allaying fears text to Izac. If she was with him, all was well.
YOU’RE MISSING OUT. WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?
The message did not go through. Izac not answering was not unusual, but I’d only just texted him minutes ago, and it went through fine. My concerns deepened enough to try texting Luna.
IZAC’S NOT RESPONDING TO TEXTS. ARE YOU TWO OKAY?
The text connected, but there was no response.
I didn’t like that at all.
Dominic was not unaware of Luna and Izac’s absence. Like a parent with a screaming child, he found himself embarrassed by his childers’ behaviour.
Was it really so hard to have a nice night out at the theatre? Pulling out his phone, he texted Bruce.
I HAVE TWO WAYWARD CHILDREN. FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM FOR ME.
He described the time and location, what they were wearing and where they were likely to have been seen by text, then left it in the capable hands of Bruce.
OKAY BOSS, Came the reply
Yes, Bruce would know what to do.
I was sitting in my seat, desperately hoping for a message, anything to say they were okay. After ten minutes, I couldn’t sit on my hands any longer. I knew they’d hate that I got him involved, but I also knew Dominic took his role as Sire seriously. I sent a text to Dominic.
IZAC’S PHONE IS DISCONNECTED. LUNA IS NOT ANSWERING MY TEXTS. I THINK THEY’RE IN TROUBLE.
Separated by Stallion, I saw Dominic glance at his phone, turn and nod in my direction. He raised a hand, a sign to wait. He was in charge, and things were in motion. That was easy for him to say. I needed to move, to get up and ask questions. I no longer had a mind to sit and watch the play, I had to do something. And I knew exactly what I could do while staying exactly where I was.
I’VE GOT AN IDEA.
Putting away my phone, I closed my eyes and focused on that feeling of floating away from my body. From the outside, I looked like I’d fallen asleep. Inside, my consciousness zoomed across Sydney in pursuit of Izac. With his phone out of commission, he was my first concern.
The first thing I saw was a small, shrivelled purple heart in a jar sitting on a shelf. Confused, I changed my view and saw hundreds of similar jars on dozens of shelves all around me. Some held identifiable body parts, others were indescribable horrors of medicine, but all were neatly labelled and shelved with easy retrieval. At the centre of it all, an ornate Victorian table marked with magical symbols. Suddenly, I realised I was looking at Izac’s missing heart! After all our musings on the subject, it was right in front of me, an arms reach away…if I had arms at that moment. It wasn’t with the Prince, but some Wet Specimen storage that it would be easy for him to access. But where?
I pulled back my view again, and like zooming out in Google Maps. It seemed like some sort of private storage room, three basements underground. When I finally found myself outside, I was staring at a grey stone, rectangular building right on the waterfront at Circular Quay. I was in front of the Museum of Contemporary Art, directly across Circular Quay from the Opera House. For a moment, I stared in awe of what I’d accidentally discovered. Then I realised I wasn’t going to find Izac without an effort. This was the closest part of him, and it was more than two kilometres away. My circle for the rest of him was much larger and probably growing larger by the minute. With my own heart heavier, I returned to my body and tried again, this time for Luna.
I was flying down a footpath to Circular Quay. Beside me Luna was running, a determined expression on her face. Down the bottom of the hill where Macquarie ended at a roundabout, the Opera House glowed against the evening sky. She wasn’t far. I could catch her if I were careful. I quickly returned to my body.
Meanwhile, Dominic and Stallion had realised something was up. Maybe I was just too quiet, too still and they both turned to see I was no longer watching the show. Instead, my inert body was slumped forward, my eyes closed as if asleep.
“Thank goodness, I thought he’d never shut up,” Stallion whispered to Dominic before returning dutifully to watching the play. Dominic lowered his face into his open palms. Now, three of his childer were embarrassing him.
At that moment, I returned to my seat in the theatre, feeling Dominic’s disgruntled stare on me.
“They’re in trouble, “ I whispered across Stallion’s lap, and I stood to leave.
“Sit. Down.” The two words, barely audible, hit me like a slap, “You are embarrassing me.”
Embarrassed? What? How?
I crouched down across Stallion so as not to block the view of people behind and got as close to Dominic as I dared.
“They’re in trouble. Come with me. I need your help, please,” I pleaded, sure he could make me sit if he really wanted to, but hoped that his sense of propriety wouldn’t let him.
He looked around the auditorium, keenly aware of eyes watching…judging. He weighed it with the trouble I could be and the damaged we’d already done. His frown of disapproval changed to a look of disgust. Tapping Stallion on the shoulder, he carefully rose from his seat. He flicked his balled fist and thumb over his shoulder, communicating both the direction we were taking and his disappointment. I quietly followed without comment.
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubLeichhardt
The blue Mustang stopped outside the apartments, and Izac moved to leave the car.
“I’ll be five minutes.”
“First,” Shara-had said and leaned over, touching Izac on the cheek.
“What was that for?”
“Five minutes,” Shara-had repeated and gestured for Izac to be on his way.
Izac shrugged and quickly entered the apartment block. He headed straight for the apartment. Inside, he could feel the presence of the totem in that place, but there was no way he could take it. He looked around and realised there was nothing in the apartment we wanted. Putting his hand into his jacket, he pulled out his little notebook and a scrap of paper. Going over to the coffee table, he placed the paper inside his notebook and put it on the coffee table. That done, there was nothing else to do. He left and locked the door behind him.
Outside once more, Izac looked through the windscreen at Shara-had waiting in the Mustang, held up a finger, asking for a second’s more patience before entering the Crow Bar. He didn’t look for familiar faces or stop to leave a message, just placed the apartment keys on Dominic’s desk. That done, he returned to the Mustang, where Shara-had started the engine.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to do that to you,” Shara-had said and turned the car into traffic.
“Do what?” Izac was not in the mood for cryptic conversations.
“Don’t worry.”
“No, I’m interested, and I’m not going anywhere.” “I did a piece of insurance. If you weren’t back in five minutes…your blood would have boiled and strangled you to death,” Shara-had admitted offhandedly.
Seriously! “Terrific!” And as before, he had lost everything and there was nothing he could do, “So, where are we going?”
“Let’s keep going.”
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubThe State Theatre
“What should have been a very simple and entertaining evening with absolutely no interruptions has turned into a ridiculous farce because of my childers’ inability to do something as simple as sitting down for two hours,” Dominic was fuming loud enough for Stallion and me to hear as we marched down the foyer and out into the street, “You do know that children the age of five learn that when they go to school.”
Stallion, unaware and uncaring of events, sauntered out the glass doors after Dominic, “What about your friend. I don’t have his digits. Are you able to get in touch with him?”
“Which friend?” Dominic asked, distracted as he hailed a taxi.
“The one who said he wanted me to get a feed for him.”
“He’ll contact you, you can have no doubt. Get in…”
“Izac’s in trouble. His phone is disconnected, but we can catch Luna…” I said, thankful we were now on the move.
“In…” Was all he said, and I climbed in, knowing we’d travel faster by car than on foot, “Leichhardt, the Crow Bar, please.” He told the driver.
“No,” I cried, looking back down Market street as we headed in the opposite direction, “Luna…”
“Why?” Dominic asked, and I quickly tapped out a text.
LUNA IS AT CIRCULAR QUAY.
Dominic took one look at the message, “We’re going to the bar, thank you. I’m the one paying.”
“I can catch her up. Just let me out on the corner.”
“You’re staying right here,” His command was definite, and though he didn’t try dominating me, I knew it couldn’t be far away.
“Sir, please,” I pleaded again, but Dominic just turned in his seat focused on his phone.
PICK UP LUNA AT CIRCULAR QUAY, He sent to Giuseppe
To Luna, DO YOU KNOW WHERE IZAC IS?
As we headed onto Broadway and back towards Leichhardt and away from Luna and Izac, Stallion leaned in and whispered in my ear.
“Nevermind Rain, if it’s any consolation, I was bored off my tits!”
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubRunning
In Eclipse’s bag, her phone buzzed. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time she’d thought about it.
It’s not him. It can’t be him, so why do I care?
Now her destination was in sight, and the moment of panic had passed, she slowed down to a walk and pulled out her phone. There were two message.
IZAC’S NOT RESPONDING TO TEXTS. ARE YOU TWO OKAY? From me.
DO YOU KNOW WHERE IZAC IS? From Dominic.
She called my number. I jumped as it started buzzing and fumbled it to my ear.
‘My God, Luna!” “Do you know where he is?” She asked with no preamble.
I thought for a moment, my eyes flicking to the back of Dominic’s head in the front seat.
“No, I don’t know where he is, but I know where it is, “ She seemed to get my point.
“You found it? Where is it?”
“Not far from where you are, actually. Why did you go down there?”
She paused for a long time before replying, “Someone owes me a favour and might know where he is.”
So, she’d gone down there to see if the Prince could intervene. But why had she gone all that way?
“He was at the theatre.”
“He is at the theatre, and I didn’t want to be seen as uncouth and interrupt his experience,” I could hear her eyes roll, and I almost smiled.
“Museum of Contemporary Art, subbasement three, and I don’t know if you’re going to be able to find it as there’s a lot of…similar pieces.”
“No. Knowing is enough.” And I heard a resignation and peace with that statement.
“Our Father is very disappointed in us all. All except Stallion, of course,” I tried to lighten the mood.
“Oh yes, because Stallion is a perfect child. Get him another dog and call him a good boy.” She bit back. We had travelled a long way from our first night.
“Good luck with your…mission,” I finally said. She was safe…ish. Besides throwing myself from the car, there was nothing else I could do.
“As you say, I’ve got to try, right?” And she hung up the phone.
A few moments later Dominic received a text from Luna.
HE’S GONE AWOL.
Before returning his phone to his jacket, he punched out one last message,
GIUSEPPE IS COMING TO PICK YOU UP. BRUCE AND THE OTHERS ARE LOOKING INTO WHAT HAPPENED TO IZAC.
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubEnroute
“Izac. I know this is all very confusing. But I’m not here to kill you. I could have. I’m very good at it. If that were the assignment, you would have died on that street the moment I saw you. They just need to ask some questions. And regardless of how you answer, you’ll be able to leave…existing.” If this was a speech meant to inspire confidence, it was falling short for Izac.
“What are the questions?” Izac asked. Now that everything he could do was done, he felt calm. He always knew a day like this was coming. He’d just hoped for more time.
“I’m not asking them. That’s where we’re going to. We’ll get it all sorted out, and that will be it. Okay?” “Yes, fine. Drive.” Still, he didn’t feel like engaging with Shara-had and his ‘Good Cop’ routine, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.” “How long have you been alive?” “I was alive for twenty-three years.”
“And after that?”
“A long time. My people didn’t keep a good account of calendars but, by your reckoning, I guess three or four hundred years.”
“Okay.”
“Is that important?
“No, “ Izac shook his head absentmindedly as she stared out the windscreen, “I just wanted to know something about who I’m dealing with.”
“I told you. I’m merely an intermediary. I’m just taking you to a place.”
“I guess I just wanted to know my captor.”
“And now you know. I have a job. I get told what to do, and I do it.”
“What’s your taste in music?”
Shara-had shrugged, “How do you feel about Arabic music?”
“Emersing in new cultures. Sure.”
Shara-had turned on the radio and tuned it to a channel where the prayers were being sung to the faithful.
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubEnroute
Traffic moves in droves. These mechanical waves consume. Even with celerity, I would have been too late.
IZAC!
The water moves every way. The heart of this ocean is relentless. No GPS, no sign, and no signal.
Please…
I’m lost. Again.
Burn it.
Izac…
BURN IT DOWN
You’ve seen the end of this world and you’re going to just stand here? What did Rain say? Something about trying.
There is no pain this time. No two hour walk to a place that misfits could not even call home.
The city was supposed to resemble something to you. A nobody who could make something of themselves.
What the fuck happened to you?
Where is your passion?
I bled her out.
Where is your fire?
I burned it until it burned black.
I’m going nowhere. These streets I am running along are using old fuel.
Burning, burning…
This crossroad. I know more than what the Prince wants me to. I have a favour to cash in but what am I doing here? Am I not running once more?
If I turn back, would you be there?
Is it all in my head?
I have finally lost him.
What if he doesn’t want to be found?
I am your Raven, bloodhound. If you will not hunt me down I will find your shadow.
Even after all of this, even if I only find a glimpse of you…
Maybe that will be enough.
Maybe I can finally cut out the part of you that sits in my chest.
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Blanco Falzo: A man who had made into a likeness of Stallion’s dog for a time. Now deceased.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Days of the Week: Pseudonyms for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of. She is Sunday, and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson, though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Wollongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.\][poFrancis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Lambach Ruthven: Kin met at the theatre. Sire of Dracula. Drug addict.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sebastian Melmoth: Kin met at the theatre. Powerful Toreador.
Shara-had: Banu Haqim (Assamite).
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Short for Kindred. Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
6.20pm Friday 12 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club Izac’s Apartment, Leichhardt
Eclipse awoke feeling disorientated and out of sorts. She’d been plagued by visions that left her exhausted even as she awoke from a full day’s rest. The images were a disjointed swirling of scenes between the rainbow serpent and the dark-skinned human figures. People travelling, people dancing, being eaten and dying. And through it all, the iridescent body of the serpent wound through it.
This worm doesn’t come with instructions, She thought to herself as she tried to understand what she’d seen. There was a definite connection between the people and the serpent, a relationship where their deaths empowered the serpent.
She had to talk to the Days of the Week, but she had no contacts for any of them. They were regulars at the Club. Maybe she could catch them there.
She sighed and rolled over. Izac was still out cold. She watched him, but it was like watching a statue. There was nothing to show any life stirred the body into action. If she touched him, he’d be cold as her, cold as the black abyss inside her. Eventually, she gave up, quietly got out of bed, and tip-toed to the lounge room.
It had to be said that Mr Giovanni’s staff accommodations were top-notch. The Smart television had access to most of the major streaming services, and with one search, Eclipse had found a documentary providing a potted history of the ancient world. It was brain rot stuff. Lollywater for the intellect, but she amused herself for a while, nodding along at one moment and ridiculing their conclusions in the next.
Izac woke to the sound of voices talking in the apartment. Instantly, his paranoid mind leapt to the thought that ‘They’ were back for Luna. He, too, silently crawled out of bed and edged around the doorframe, peering into the lounge room to see…
…Luna watching TV.
He physically slumped, letting go of the tension and padded out into the loungeroom to fall in beside Luna on the sofa.
“What time is it?”
“Six-twenty,” She answered without taking her eyes off the TV.
“Sundown yet?” His eyes glued to the moving images of cracked pots in dusty places engrossing.
“I have a few things to chase up.” She leaned into his side companionably, “Make a few calls. You don’t have to run around all night.”
“Yeah, I guess,” He agreed as they slowly allowed themselves to sink into a couch potato state.
6.00pm Friday 12 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club The Warehouse, Wetherill Park
Stallion awoke to the streams of daylight falling through the cracks in the roof of the warehouse and a thirst.
Lucky I kept aside a little snack for just this contingency, He thought to himself and glanced over at the corpse. Two days in the summer heat, unrefrigerated, had not been kind to the body, which its previous owner had never really respected.
He took a sip. The skin relented in a way that living or recently dead flesh did not. It slipped against his lips and teeth so he had to bite hard to break through. It was clammy, though not cold, having retained some of the warmth of the day. Neither was the blood smooth and thick as he was used to, either. He moved it around in his mouth. It wasn’t bad, but it did have an odd, chunky texture with a thin, watery finish. It was something like a jelly left out of the fridge, except with the metallic tang he expected.
Eventually, he’d have to get rid of the body, but he’d learnt the sewer trick, so he wasn’t too worried. Leaving the rest for later, he left the warehouse and headed east to the Crow Bar.
6.20pm Friday 12 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club The Old Pyrmont House
Dominic awoke somewhere unfamiliar but, at the same time, felt like home. The recollection that he had spent the night with Aunty Lucretia at the Pyrmont house gave him a sudden cold feeling of joy that sufficed his whole body.
It was like being a small child all over again. He had learnt things. Yes, the world, as he had known it, was a very small and insignificant thing compared to what was beyond. And he’d only just begun his journey of discovery. It was the first step in the next stage of his life.
He looked around the master bedroom and didn’t see Aunty anywhere. He stood and went in search of the woman who had opened his eyes to find her downstairs, already busy with her affairs.
“You’ve dominated far too much of my time, “ She said without looking up from her work, “Have a good one, nephew.” “You too, Aunty, “ He replied as he silently closed the front door behind him.
6.40pm Friday 12 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubThe Crow Bar
I’d spent hours floating disembodied through the warren of the Wollongong Nosferatu. Its complexity and organisation were incredible. I’d seen nothing like it anywhere else in vampire society so far. The small room Luna and I had visited in Sydney was obviously just a foyer or visitors’ room if Sydney’s Nosferatu were as industrious as those down south. They acted like an army, all working together for the common good. For all their broken natures, I envied them their…community spirit. Their shared vision.
When I felt I had the layout of the warren firmly fixed in my mind, I returned to my body. Though it had been nowhere and done nothing, the hours of travel had taken a toll. I came too in the darkness of the Time Out room feeling like I’d run to and from Wollongong. Without too much thought, I lay out on the cold concrete floor and fell instantly to the dreamless sleep I’d come to treasure.
Sometime later, I was aware my phones lit the space with the cheery green numbers, denoting it was after six pm. At first, I thought I was still chained to the wall and scrambled off the floor to find the chains silent and empty. The next thing I realised was the raging hunger coldly burning deep inside. I hadn’t felt that hungry since…
…I rapidly left Time Out in search of blood.
The Crow Bar was quiet at that time in the evening. Above, people were walking past the front door on their way home from work, but at that moment, the V.I.P. lounge was empty. I strode across to the ‘keg’ fridge and the silent bodies that hung there. If my mind hadn’t been focused on other things, I could have stood there drinking directly from one of them…like drinking milk from the fridge. As I wanted to write down what I’d discovered in my travels, I grabbed a few blood packs and headed back to the office. As one hand squeezed a blood pack, the other hand texted Izac.
6.40pm Friday 12 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club Izac’s Apartment, Leichhardt
Izac’s phone buzzed. Without taking his eyes off the TV he leaned sideways to get access to his pocket and pulled out the phone.
I KNOW WHERE HE IS.
Luna dragged her eyes off the television long enough to see the phone screen.
“Rain was quick at finding Wid,” Izac said to her, snapping his phone closed, “It looks like he wants to talk.”
“I wonder…” She mused out loud, “If he can find people, do you think he can find items?”
“That’s a question you’d have to ask him,” She took the opportunity to give her a peck on the forehead, “Speaking of which, when do you want to go to Lightning Ridge? Wasn’t it for something? Or is it just a sightseeing tour?”
“There’s something out there I have to find, “ She thought, imagining an iridescent blade of her very own, before snapping back to the reality of the lounge, “Still, I guess it’s more up to the werewolves than it is us.”
‘I make a call, and we can get things rolling,” He held out his phone, which hadn’t made it back to his pocket just yet, “Just say the word.”
“I can always go to Lightning Ridge by myself, “ She responded, the TV forgotten, “It’s a long way for you to travel.”
Izac didn’t like the sound of that, and the creases in his forehead deepened, “Is that what you want to do?”
“It depends on how far you’re willing to venture,” She poked him in the chest, “I’m not going to stop you if you want to come.”
“It sounds like I’d be an imposition. ”
“Do you want to go to Lightning Ridge?”
“I want to help.”
She looked thoughtfully at him for a moment, taking in his earnest desire. It meant nothing to the gnawing nothingness inside her, but part of her realised it meant something to him.
“It won’t hurt if you join me,” She finally relented. It certainly wouldn’t hurt having the werewolf whisperer with her out west.
6.40pm Friday 12 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubCrow Bar
By the freak chance of Sydney traffic, Dominic and Stallion drove into the Crow Bar’s carpark one after another. The Bronco and the black SUV were as distinctive as their drivers. Stallion, tall, young and tan, in his trenchcoat and designer labels, Dominic, what would be considered a silver fox, impeccably dressed in his black suit. The two men nodded greetings to each other.
“Stallion, how are you doing?” Asked Dominic cheerfully.
“Augh, pretty alright,” Stallion replied, trying to match Dominic’s mood. He felt the need to have Mr G. think well of him, even if he wasn’t ‘in the family’.
“I’ve come in to do a little reading tonight.”
Dominic looked around the carpark and beckoned Stallion over to a blank wall.
“Just come over here for a moment. I have something to show you, “ And, after pressing in the code, the wall slid away to reveal the armoury, “Let’s just slip in here for a private chat.”
Stallion followed, taking in the view of racks of weapons, ammunition and other assorted deadly-looking tools of death that he could not put names to. Dominic slid the wall closed and, without preamble, bit into his left wrist, allowing the dark Giovanni blood to well up.
“Here, have a couple of sips. You deserve it.” He said, offering up his wrist to Stallion.
Stallion’s eyes bulged. Though not strictly hungry, the beast is never sated and the thought of vampire blood just there for the taking…
“Awkward…tempting…”He said as the thoughts rolled around in his mind, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Dominic replied and again extended the wrist out for Stallion to drink.
“The last time I had Vampire blood…it was delicious,” He thought back to that moment, draining the mad vampire to the last drop. He wondered if he could do the same with Dominic.
“Have some more, you deserve it,” Dominic offered.
“But…fine, but you said…Vaulderie…?” He was confused, a state he was well used to. He could smell the blood. His mouth watered.
“Don’t worry about that. Remember, you asked me to do this to you,” Suddenly, Stallion did remember, in Dominic’s house, asking him to…well, obviously this!
He bent his head and sipped the blood. It was like ripping the scab off a wound, painful… but the final release made it worthwhile. Instantly, Stallion was filled with good thoughts about Dominic, how kind he was, and how much trust he put in Stallion. Surely, it was only natural that Stallion would want to trust him back.
And the thought of eating Dominic was ridiculous! Mates don’t eat mates.
“You can have another sip if you like,” Dominic offered as Stallion straightened, flush from the blood and his newfound…love for the man in front of him.
“You’ve been generous already. If you offer later…”
“Sure,” Dominic rolled down his shirt sleeve, and the blood was gone, “Stallion, I wanted to know, what are you using to protect yourself these days?
“Wha…in what sense?”
“It’s a rough world out there, and I’m not always going to be there to protect you, “ He gestured to the array of weaponry on offer around them, “Do you carry a gun, a knife, a stick…”
“I’ve got my claws,” Stallion said, lifting his soft human hands, nothing like the clawed weapons they could become.
“That’s true, but there will come a time when you may want something with a little more…range…a little stopping power. You’re going to want to have options. You have to understand that most of us who have been here for a while are good at fighting with our hands. Even me.”
Stallion scoffed out loud. In all the time he’d known Mr Giovanni, he’d never seen him fight with his hands. A gun, sure. He’d seen him shoot that hunter…and the mage. But fight with his fists?…Mr Giovanni wouldn’t want to get his suit wet, would he?
“I’ve never seen you fight with your hands.” “You’ve never had the opportunity.”
“Do I have the opportunity tonight?”
“Do you want a friendly brawl?” Dominic said with a smile that would have made lesser men quail, “Perhaps another time. But that’s not what tonight is about.” This time, he walked to the racks where the handguns gave way to sawn-off shotguns that gave way to semi-automatic rifles.
“You have your short-range attacks covered. You’re right there. But sometimes you want to put one or two things into your opponent before they get that close.” He pulled a sawn-off off the rack and held it comfortably in his hands. “Not all fights are nice and civilised.”
“Of course, that’s when you king hit them,” replied Stallion from his experience in street brawling in the gang.
“Hmm,” Dominic replied, leaving their air clear for Stallion to continue.
“It’s just…we never really used guns…”
“Well, “ Like the used car salesman he was, Dominic used the sawn-off as a pointer as he listed off the guns available in the lock-up, “We have your standard semi-automatics handguns, basic but reliable revolvers, we have a few submachine guns. There’s always the shotguns, of course, but they’re not really portable except the sawn-off…”
“What’s the biggest gun you’ve got that I can fit in my pocket?” Stallion broke through the dizzying array of choices on offer.
“Under your coat? This double barrel sawn-off could be made to fit very nicely,” Dominic offered the gun to Stallion as pulling a suit off the rack. Stallion didn’t take it right away.
“I can’t always be wearing the jacket,” He bawked at the gun.
“There are snubnose revolvers. Small, reliable, not a lot of stopping power but easy to hide,” Dominic pointed out some smaller guns that Stallion recognised from rerunning cops shows he watched as a kid.
“They look like sharpeners,” He smirked, “And would I have to pull the hammer back each time?”
“Maybe something simpler?” Dominic walked over to the handguns and pulled out a .38 special that had been modified to take a shotgun shell, “Small, simple and with the stopping power of a bull. One shot, though.”
When Stallion didn’t seem convinced, Dominic pulled a box off a shelf and pulled out a tiny gun that fitted into the palm of his hand. The bullets, in fitted slots inside the box, were the size of Tic-Tacs.
“There’s always a Derringer? Hold two bullets, double-action, easy to hide.”
Stallion was spoiled for choice. What should have been a kid in a candy store moment was becoming an ordeal of decisions.
“I’m sorry, Mr Giovanni. I just don’t know much about guns.”
With a fatherly smile, Dominic put away the Derringer box, “That’s why we’re here picking one for you.”
“What about a police Glock? They hold lots of bullets, right? How about damage?”
“Damage?”
“Firepower? How many bottles of coke can it shoot through?” As if the YouTube standard was a good judge of the effectiveness of weaponry.
“That’s up to the bullet, not so much the gun, “ Dominic pulled a box of .38s for the aforementioned Glock and opened them for Stallion to see, “See the bullet…the projectile is just that lead slug at the top. Not much wider than your claw, right, and does about the same damage,” Placing the box aside, he then pulled down a box of deer slugs for the double-barrel he’d been waving around, “These are cartridges. Inside these are a slug almost as wide as the cartridge. This takes down big stags, moose even. See, the more you put in, as it were, the more you get out, do you see?”
“Yeah…ah…um…” Stallion pointed hesitantly at the racks, “The sawn-off shotgun.”
Dominic gave Stallion two boxes of the deer slug and a single-barrel shotgun, showing him how to load it.
“This is a break action, single barrel shotgun that takes these cartridges. Just make sure one of these is in the chamber, and you’re ready to go. Line it up and pull the trigger. Hide these in your car somewhere, and you’re good to go.”
6.40pm Friday 12 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubCrow Bar
Three blood packs later, I had four sheets of photocopy paper filled with notes about the Nosferatu warren and was worrying over a blank space on the page. I’d memorised the layout as a series of moves, as I would a magic routine. I often found it easier to remember things if I put them into movement and was now dancing around the office, trying to remember what had been at the blank intersection.
First on the left, murder hole
Second on the left, guard post rest spot.
T-intersection, east and west.
Past the eastern dormitories and….
…nothing.
I tried from the other end:
Stores
First on right, computer room.
Follow the network cables, left, and servers.
Down the corridor…
…I drew a blank. “Shit.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
WHERE ARE YOU? It was Izac.
OFFICE, I quickly sent the reply and went back to my notes.
Downstairs, Luna and Izac walked into the bar. Izac sent his message as Luna, wanting to practise her new talent, stepped ahead of him and seemingly disappeared from sight. Izac looked up, missed Luna, looked around and found himself alone. He sighed, and Luna clearly recognised the upset and resignation on his face before he headed for the stairs. She raced ahead and beat him to the office door. As Izac reached it, she broke the illusion and winked back into existence. “You’re getting quicker,” Izac said, surprise clearly replacing the disappointment with admiration.
“Quicker or at least better at the in-between,” She smirked and walked in after him.
Inside, they found me…dancing. Pages of notes spread out on Dominic’s desk of a cryptic mind map that meant nothing to anyone but me. I paused in the dance, swore, and started dancing again.
“You’re busy,” Izac commented, catching my attention. I turned to see both of them walking in the door, conspiratorial smiles on their faces.
“Oh! I memorised the warren but forgot a section. “ I pointed out the location on my notes, “I’m just walking through in my mind to see…” I blathered. Realising I was blathering, and started again, “I found Wid.”
“Where is he?” Izac asked, stepping up to the table to look over my scribbled notes.
“He’s deep in an extensive warren under the Port Kembla steelworks. I’ve remembered most of it…” I listened to myself and internally rolled my eyes. When had I become so desperate for their approval?
Since they left you on the outside, It was my conscience. He was becoming as annoying as the beast.
“I’ll remember…or not,” I admitted with a cringing smile, “Regardless, if you can get us to Wollongong, I know the way.”
“Wollongong’s not far. We could easily do the trip in a night,” Izac studied the notes, couldn’t make sense of it and gave up.
“Oh, and probably best that they don’t know how much I know.”
“They?” “Oh, it’s a city down there, a city under siege. They look like they’re at war…or expecting war.”
“With?” Luna asked, and I wished I had better information to offer.
“Yeah, dunno.” “Okay, but there’s unrest. Good to know.” I took that as a positive step in our ever-fracturing relationship. For the first time that evening, I looked in her direction. She was still wearing the ridiculous witch costume, but her stance and bearing, the tilt of her head, all gave her a subconscious…regalness. No, not my Luna, but maybe she was her own, Luna.
“Afraid though,” Izac worried, “That may make him too busy to see us.”
“No. Not for visitors,” Luna replied with such assurance we all nodded.
“Well, I hope so.”
“In any case, “Izac straightened from leaning over the table and turned to me, “That’s good work, Rain.” Ah, praise, warmth, and desire are what I live for. More so coming from Izac whose praise seemed hard-won, and whose goodwill I needed.
“So, you can map out an entire warren to find one person? “ Luna drew my attention again.
“More like, I searched for Wid, and the mapping was a happy result, but yes.”
“How about items?”
Intriguing. This ability was so new. I’d had no idea I could see Wid with such clarity until last night. It would be interesting to try.
“Oh…well…I don’t know. I could always try. I’d need a description. I know I didn’t have a lot to go on with Wid, but he’s kin.”
Luna glanced at Izac, a knowing look of shared concern crossed between them.
“Lightning Ridge?” He asked, and she shook her head.
“No. Do you think you could find the Prince’s heart?”
What a thought. Until this week, I would have thought that obvious, but we all knew hearts didn’t always stay in chests. Now, I was intrigued. If the Prince’s heart were separate from him, and we could get it, it would be a wonderful bargaining chip…at the very least. Still…
“The Prince’s? Or…” I looked at Izac.
“The Prince’s. We can always find his when the Prince is gone.”
I stiffened. It was one thing to talk openly about the demise of the current ruler and quite another to do it in front of a security camera just above our heads.
“So you don’t think he’d keep it…” I tapped my chest.
“It would be just like him to keep them together,” Izac laughed humorlessly.
“It could be,” Luna shrugged coolly, “A sick play…I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Well, at least I know him,” I thought again about the puzzle put in front of me, “That should make it easier…” Regardless of cameras and talk of Regicide, I was engaged. The game was afoot!
“If the Prince’s is a bust, then Izac’s.”
Izac was now paying attention to me. I must admit to having finished the last of the blood packs and still felt the gnawing emptiness of hunger, but surely it didn’t show…that much. His eyes did travel to the empties now gathering at my feet.
“You look like you could do with a meal,” He said, and I felt his concern like an embrace.
“Do you need more of those?” Now Luna? If before I had felt left out, now I was inside the coil of their collective arms. It was what I’d wanted and needed, and I was a little surprised at the suddenness of its arrival.
“Ur…yes, I…this took most of the day…it was pretty hungry work,” If I could blush, I would have.
Luna left the room, practicing her invisibility and slunk down the stairs to retrieve more bags as Izac stayed with me. I wonder if they thought I was on the brink of frenzying. On the contrary. With their praise and attention, I could live in happy bliss for a year. For the first time, I was starting to see that momentary loss of control as a blessing in disguise.
When she’d left, Izac turned back to me, “What are we going to do about the other problem?”
I glanced back the way Luna had gone, “That problem?”
“I want to find them.”
“Oh!” Them. The odd ones in random clothes driving the ancient station wagon. The ones that took my Luna. Yes, I knew what they looked like. I looked up at where I knew a camera must be hidden and returned to my notes on the table. In one corner, I scribble…
There’s a camera. We really shouldn’t talk here. I let him read the note before tearing it off and stuffing it in my pocket.
Izac’s eyes narrow, unsure why I’d now be concerned about the direction of our conversation.
“Right. On to more pressing topics, then. How hard do you think it will be to find my heart, or Saraseen’s at the very least?”
Hadn’t I just told him about the camera? Still, riding high on his approval, I didn’t want to disappoint.
“Um…I don’t really know until I try, right? This is all very exciting and new.”
“Fuck!” He swore, looking up at the wall I’d indicated and realising what he’d said, “By any chance, are you handy with computers.”
Ah, a trip back to Bruce’s sanctum?
“I have been known to dabble.”
“This conversation would have been better had somewhere else, right?”
“Right.” I agreed, “Thus why we were… downstairs…last night.” I stressed, hoping this time he understood.
“Ah.” He changed the subject, “How are things going with you and your friend?”
Oh God! Now, it was my turn to swear. With all the excitement over the Nosferatu and the warren, I’d completely forgotten about Brendan. I pulled out my phone. No messages. Not a good or bad sign.
“I’ve not checked in on Brendan,” I admitted.
“Have you thought of a way of getting him out? You must have given it some thought.”
I shrugged, “I’ve done what I can. I will be there, by his side…”
“Be careful about that,” He warned, “Some people might think it a bit of a joke if you’re too close.”
So true. I nodded and accepted his advice gratefully. There were ways of keeping close without being physically clinging to Divine’s tulle. She’d hate that, anyway.
“If the worst comes, I may have to offer some boons.”
“Be careful who you make those with. They may come to bite you on the arse.”
I nodded again, “I’m aware.” I knew this was also what I’d asked for. Another point of view, a wiser pair of eyes.
“And…about last night. When you said to let him go…it’s not that I wasn’t listening. I heard you. There’s just sometimes…for better or worse…you know? I can’t let go…at least until I can’t hold on anymore.”
“He might not be breathing by the time you let go,” He said, part advise, part plea.
“Then I’ll be there in the end.” And that one thought drained all the joy out of me.
7.00pm Friday 11 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubCrow Bar
Mr Giovanni and Stallion rose from the carpark companionably together, having just stowed Stallion’s new toy. They were now heading for the office and library, respectively. Luna had just left the fridge with a new supply of blood packs and was invisibly making her way across to the stairs herself. Spotting Dominic and Stallion, she ran ahead, desperate to beat them back to the office. She took the stairs easily enough, then realised she’d need to break the illusion to open the office door. Carefully, she opened the door as gently as she could.
At the bottom of the stairs, Dominic and Stallion looked up as the door to the office swung open seemingly by its own accord. Out of empty space, Luna’s face appeared for a fraction of a second, and then it was gone. They both realised she’d always been there in the hallway, carrying blood packs up to the office, but for some reason, it was only until she opened the door that they registered it. Dominic eyes narrowed in suspicion and anger.
“It looks like someone’s learnt a new talent,” Stallion gloated, oblivious to Dominic’s mood change.
Izac and I turned as the door opened, and Luna appeared where nothing had been before.
Dominic, She mouthed and handed me the blood packs. Making the papers disappear from the table, I took the packs gratefully and quietly drank one, awaiting the arrival of our sire.
“I really have to learn that one day,” Izac said under his breath.
“I was practising. Surely the best place to do it, “ She answered just as low.
Dominic, stormclouds evident in his expression, and Stallion smirking quietly, entered the office. Dominic closed the door with emphasis behind him.
“Luna, did you just use Obfuscate to go down to the basement and get blood packs?” He asked in his reasonable and all too dangerous voice.
“I use obfuscate to walk around the Crow Bar. I’m practising, “ She replied without hesitation.
“This bar is my Elysium, and all powers besides my own are banned here. If you were caught by a mortal using obfuscate, it would have been a violation of the Masquerade.”
Elysium? Surely, this was the first we’d heard of this. What would he have thought of Delith’s little indiscretions? What about my own?
“Aren’t you lucky I’m good at it,” Luna replied, full of bravado.
“No, because I saw you, Stallion saw you, “ He pulled back his jacket sleeve and unbuttoned the cuff of his left shirt sleeve. Luna and I knew what this was, and we both flinched. Izac knew something was up from our reactions.
“No, wait!” Luna protested, “I call bullshit on this. Delith is on your payroll and uses dominate all over the place.”
Dominic frown only deepened, “I’ll look into it.” I didn’t like the sound of that. If Izac wanted me to clear the office tape of tonight’s discussion, I’d have to get moving. I remembered my mind-reading of Delith and hoped that didn’t show on the common room tapes.
“I collaborate with Luna’s evidence. Delith has on two occasions tried to dominate me…and another patron.” I swallowed hard on that last one.
With my evidence, Dominic paused. It seemed he may not have been clear with his ideals of Elysium with his staff or with us.
“I’ll deal with that later, “ He said and held out his arm to Luna, “But for now…”
Luna took Dominic wrist and sipped. I winced along with her, remembering the pain like razor blades, the burning like acid. She took the sip demanded, then pulled away, gasping, a blood tear streaming down her face. She stumbled back and fell into Izac’s waiting arms.
Izac was horrified, “Isn’t that a bit excessive?”
“Have you seen what happens to vampires that break Masquerade? I am responsible for them, “Dominic turned his cold eyes on Izac as he buttoned up his sleeve once more.
“She was just trying to avoid as much contact with the mortal as she could. She was being responsible.”
“She is my childe, and I will discipline her as I see fit.”
Izac rolled his eyes, “Of course, you are correct as always, Mr Giovanni.”
“And what about your staff?” Luna said tearily.
“I’ll have no more lip from you,” The urbane manager of a popular nightclub was gone, and Dominic exposed his cold heart. I’d never seen him so mad, and I’d been blamed for the book theft.
Stallion, Dominic’s good boy of the night, now took his chance to rub some salt into the wounds.
“How long have you known about Delith for, Luna, and you didn’t tell him?”
“His staff. We didn’t know there was a problem besides her being a bitch.”
“So you’re not willing to snitch unless it benefits you?” His delighted grin stretched menacingly across his face.”
“What are you, two? Wake up, Stallion.”
“I am,” He said, “to you.”
I ignored the sibling fight and watched Father. Even when I’d yelled at him to leave Pyrmont, he’d been more in control than at that moment. Bringing Delith into the argument had been the wrong angle. He didn’t care for Delith. If she broke the Masquerade, it was no skin of his nose. But Luna, and Stallion and me. We were a problem. A scolding parent more fearful than angry for their reckless children.
“Mr Giovanni, for my part, I apologise for breaking the rules of your Elysium, I honestly didn’t know we couldn’t use our abilities.”
He looked at me with the same tired look of all parents, “I did mention it.”
“That this was your domain, of course, and we would not dispute that. That you hold the Crow Bar to be Elysium? The only Elysium I knew was the Prince’s.”
“It is a place where our kind are welcome. That is Elysium,” He said, slowly enunciating every word as if to a stupid child, “As long as they behave themselves while in this space. That includes minor Masquerade breaches.”
I sighed. I felt the weight of the cultural iceberg on me once more. What people think to tell you about their culture is only ten per cent of the important and possibly life-threatening elements of any society. Yes, we had been told about Elysium. I may have even gathered that the Succubus Club would be something like Elysium, but that the space I was currently calling home was also an Elysium had never crossed my mind.
“We’ve all been made fully aware now of our responsibilities here. We understand now. “ I tried to quell the parental concerns.
It seemed to work. At least he changed the subject… somewhat.
“It seems I have to go over a few things before we go to the Succubus Club so you don’t get yourselves killed.”
He informed us that the Succubus Club is something like a super Elysium where all kindred are welcome regardless of age, clan, tradition…anything. I could see that could lead to many opportunities for disagreement, so being on our best behaviour could well mean more than just polite conversation. As with the Prince’s Elysium or the Crow Bar, someone is responsible for that good behaviour.
“So, who’s Elysium is the Succubus Club? Who is responsible?” I asked, gaining for myself an odd look from Dominic.
“That’s the thing. No one knows. That’s why it is imperative to behave yourself while you are there. You’re not even a year old. All the other vampires there are going to consider you children.”
“We really didn’t intend to cause trouble for you, Mr Giovanni.” “It is somewhat expected, “ At least now he sounded a little mollified, “You are children, after all, regardless of whether you want to hear that or not.”
“Remember, at the Succubus Club, do not approach anyone you don’t know unless they approach you first.” Great, how to create wallflowers. Still, I was grateful for the advice.
“That’s going to be a very small pool,” Stallion said, having given up on trying to make Luna feel bad, “Like, who do you know outside of this coterie?”
“I wish I knew more,” I went through my sparse list in my head. I had the names of a few Nosferatu (Paul, Sparrow, and Pangea), our three sires, the Prince, and Cabolut Hazzim. If we got to Wollongong, we could possibly add Wid to our collection, and that was about it.
Luna shrugged, though Izac and I knew she had five on all of us. Certainly, Stallion’s question had us all thinking. What were we going to do at the Succubus Club? The room had gone silent for the first time.
“Now that the lecture is over, “ He glanced at Luna, the coldness thawing from his expression, “Congratulations on learning a power not your own.”
“Isn’t that taboo?” Stallion asked. After what I’d heard in Dominic’s place, I figured this had to do with his Thaumaturgy, “You know, learning abilities outside your blood?”
“It’s not unheard of,” Dominic replied reassuringly, “Only your abilities are guarded most…jealously by the Tremere.”
“Only we know that, right? Not them?” It was unclear what he meant by them. The Tremere? If they did, I was amazed he was still walking about making snide comments to Luna.
“He’s thinking out loud again,” Said Izac and I had to agree.
Dominic turned his cool gaze on the cocky Stallion, “Stallion, I need you to remember at the Succubus Club, you are not the entertainment. You are there to enjoy the entertainment.” “And what does that entail, Mr Giovanni?” Izac asked
“People like Rain’s friend. Often, Torreadors will put on spectacles. There will be competitions of concealment from Nosferatu and La Sombre. Tzimisce may fleshcraft something as a show. They will have all sought permission to use their abilities, and as no one mortal will be getting out alive, it’s not a Masquerade breach.”
Izac looked balefully at me without saying a word. No mortal out alive. I looked at my phone again. No message.
Stallion was on fire though, “I wonder if you could buy him?”
“Possibly, for a few favours.” Except I couldn’t talk to anyone or do anything. Maybe Brendan would just wow them to the point where he saved himself. It sure seemed like I was going to be as useful as tits on a bull.
The conversation died away, and once more. Dominic was left to get the happy family talking again.
“So, what have you lot been doing while I’ve been away?” He asked.
Oh, not much. Wooed the sacrificial lamb of the Succubus Club, discovered and used a highly dangerous ability in your Elysium, conspired to kill the Prince, it seems and organised to go out and talk to their old enemies…
“Just hanging around the bar,” I actually said. It wasn’t a lie.
“Just be hanging out here,” Izac admitted, but not convincingly.
“Reading,” Luna admitted, also not a lie.
“I ran around town,” Stallion said, the short form of the truth.
“Honestly, Mr Giovanni, if we had anything interesting to tell you, we’d tell you,” Izac tried again to assure Dominic.
Dominic didn’t seem convinced by his assurances but didn’t bat an eye at my outlandish lies. Regardless, he chose to ignore it all.
“I think it’s time we did something nice together. What’s playing at the State Theatre tonight?”
“Last time we did that, we killed a bunch of people at a bar,” Luna replied scathingly. I was excited about the prospect of getting out of the Club for the night.
We all pulled out our phones and started searching. Ironically, Bram Stoker’s Dracula was being performed.
“How would you like to see a play from a story written by a Vampire?” Dominic was now a little playful at the thought of taking a bunch of vampires out to see the story of the most famous vampire of all.
“Do you want to see it?”’
“Yes, “ I said, “People will just assume the pasty-faced bunch are in cosplay for the show.”
“Hey, who are you calling pasty-faced,” Stallion replied. Yes, even after all this time away from the sun, he’d never lost his hint of a golden tan.
Dominic spared no expense in acquiring tickets and then went off to change into something fitting for the theatre. He returned in a double-breasted suit of the finest make. It was a great suit, but it made him look like he was trying too hard. After three nights in the same clothes, I quickly headed off to the hotel, showered and dressed for a night on the town. I changed into another of my new suits and slicked back my hair to make me look like a nineteen-thirties silver screen star. Luna and Izac…made do with what was at the Club and made miracles happen, looking like a modern alist couple direct from New York City. Stallion looked like he’d hauled himself out of a bin. Unidentifiable stains pockmarked his once pristine coat. He found a longline puffer jacket in lost property and decided he looked fly.
Dominic made a call to his staff, “Bring around the limousine.”
8.20pm Friday 10 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus ClubCrow Bar
That eternal end. The thing beyond death where the wyrm resides. It speaks in images.
Destroy.
Consume.
Create.
Your lover is another pawn in this dance of death. He sleeps almost soundly with a predator beside him. What to become of him, in his moment of stasis?
Yours led to finding the serpent. To destroy you to create me. What about him?
Wednesday is a choice. One you are not happy with.
What to make of a man being marinated through every decision.
I know you can sense the irony. I am no better than the others but they want to use him.
But I know better.
I know he can be saved.
Cut from the strings of all the entities dragging him along. Aid him to see beyond the veil. This could very well kill me. It could easily lead towards his death.
Why not try? It’ll be fun.
None of it will fill the void I’ve craved into my being.
Remember the pain of Dominic’s bite? Of his putrid blood?
The pain of consequence we walked.
Emotions that were all swallowed in that pit.
Bleed through every drop from my neck.
In this game I’ll keep up your charade. Even though, at the end of this world, is nothing but what I’ve created and what I am destined to be.
In life I was told this and that, how to act, how to be. All for no doubt some high-minded virtue
In death, it was no different, for the same reasons. But what if I don’t believe? She can see the mask poorly concealing my doubt. Used as a tool in the thralls of others: Kat, Giovanni, Sarrasine. Where is the next prospective owner looking to claim a controlling stake in my actions?
Running away again?
I refuse to run anymore, but this has to happen. I need to carve my own path, not the one set for me. I’ve been a slave too long. This idea of sire, ownership and favours created monsters. Even the unwilling are twisted into cynical, deceptive and manipulating caricatures. The Children are no exception. left alone to struggle and then retrieved like a child in the cold.
It wasn’t to learn, it was an indoctrination.
It doesn’t matter what comes after, but it has to be better than this. A world without monsters…
They all have to burn.
The people I need to find, will they have the answers I want to hear? She is different, a coldness is in her eyes. Why? What happened to her?
Luna, why won’t you tell me? I don’t care if it kills me, I need to know.
Maybe it’ll be better if you are.
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Blanco Falzo: A man who had made into a likeness of Stallion’s dog for a time. Now deceased.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Days of the Week: Pseudonyms for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of. She is Sunday, and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson, though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Wollongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.\][poFrancis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Short for Kindred. Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
I woke up Christmas evening with a feeling like I’d missed something.
I looked around my room, still sparse since I had just moved in. It looked as I’d left it that morning, my few possessions in a bag on the floor, the clothes from last night draped over a chair. Lupara was beside my bed where I’d left her. And that was all there was. I’d always travelled through life light, but even for me, the few possessions I had gathered since being embraced seemed ridiculously small. I listened to the silence of my apartment and the distant murmurs of the other residents on lower levels and realised what was missing.
I dressed quickly, filling my thoughts with anything else but the reality around me. How did I let myself get into this position? Me? After thirty-odd years of life knowing that this time was special, I found myself alone on Christmas! It was not to be tolerated!
I marched out of the building and into the city’s heart, acutely aware of the near-empty streets around me. Even the wind through the artificial canyons of high risers was mournful and lonely as I headed up the hill towards George Street. Here, the city was a little livelier, with restaurants full of people celebrating. Bars of workmates shouting rounds to toast in the season.
I slowed and looked at the signs of life around me. A couple, obviously walking home after an evening out, quietly chatted. A small group of friends, young enough not to have families and far enough from home not to travel, boisterously filled the air with noise. An elderly couple sat at a bus stop, dressed in their best church clothes, hummed carols to each other.
There were others alone. A nurse in his uniform headed to the hospital on Macquarie Street, and a hospitality worker trudged downstairs to St James Station after a busy day.
“Merry Christmas!” Said the nurse as he spotted me watching him. I smiled and nodded back my thanks.
“I wish you a very quiet night,” I replied, and they rolled his eyes in mock horror.
“Never say the ‘Q’ word!”
I walked down Macquarie Street companionably with the nurse, Trevor. He’d left his partner with his family and hoped they would all play nice “just for one day.”
“They love you. They’ll try,” I said as we parted by the bronze pig fountain. He looked at me as if I’d said something strange.
“Anyone making an effort for you this Christmas?”
Assuring him with a wave and terrible lies, I continued down Macquarie Street, now more sombre than ever. Since I was five, I have shared Christmas with someone. Foster families, friends, lovers, and even near strangers. It was the benefit of the season; nearly everyone was more accommodating to friendly gestures and more accepting of those obviously without their loved ones nearby.
But as I passed the government buildings and the business skyscrapers, I realised that this year, I felt…removed from the lights and comradery of old. Was it this dark new life I’d accepted only a few months earlier? It had undoubtedly led to changes I’d have never wished on an enemy…if I had any.
The few friends I’d begun the year with were scattered. Some, like the group from the squat, were dead, and others…I didn’t want to think. Lenny was out somewhere in the city tonight, but I’d sent him away. I was still unsure it had been the right thing. Even those few acquaintances I’d made since were distant and untrusting. How do you build a friendship with someone expecting you to stab them in the back?
They don’t trust you. How can you trust them? Said the beast, my constant companion. You can only trust me.
Its voice in my mind turned my dark musings to the curse that made it all possible. Cain’s curse for denying a god that made him kill the brother he loved. With him, all his children were denied the chance of heaven. All of us were blocked from the promises given to Abraham. Was that why I no longer found a connection to Christmas? Did I somehow subconsciously recognise that the child’s gift was not for me?
A dark hole opened up in my chest, and I found it hard not to moan out in pain at its emptiness.
‘Oh God, oh God, I know why you forsake me…” The darkness of the city’s canyons swallowed me whole, and I found an empty doorway and cried. I hid my face in the corner, knowing that blood tears would cause questions and let them silently fall to the stone at my feet. Because of that blood, I was worse than a murderer, worse than the vilest killers. Because of that blood, there was no hope.
I don’t know how long I stood there, a silent darkness in the darkness. Eventually, my tired mind gave up the pain for nothingness, and I just stood listening to the world around me. There were a lot of voices, not loud, but many were talking in cheerful tones. Lights flashed in different colours, spilling into my dark doorway, tinting the black. I wiped my eyes, ensuring there was no sign of blood, before stepping out and seeing what was happening.
Around the corner, in a plaza of cut grey stone, stood a Christmas tree. It was the same tree the City Council had put up the year before and probably the year before that. A thirty-three-metre tall artificial tree said to be the tallest in the Southern Hemisphere. In previous years, I’d witnessed the living spruce given to London by a grateful Norway. I’d seen the massive living fir New York brought into the city and planted at the Rockefeller Centre. I’d skated on the icerink under its boughs. Last year, I looked at the metal and plastic creation with a sceptical human eye, thinking it was tacky in comparison to those acts of generosity and grandness.
Now, I saw it through new eyes, eyes that had seen more darkness than they could tell and would probably see more before they closed forever. Now, I didn’t see the metal framework and plastic baubles. Now I saw the dozens of people wander in from late night services, dinner reservations and after work to this focus point of faith, love and…
I turned on Auspex, and what I’d felt radiated from the small crowd of ever-changing people. I saw with my new eyes. A rainbow of colours: calming light blue, compassionate pink, the bright, excited violet of children out way past bedtime, the general rose of generosity and sparks of happy vermillion. Above it all, a halo of innocent white and spiritual gold. The colours rose like a cloud and clung to the tree, giving it the same aura. The flashing electrical lights paled in the glow of the people gathered around that tree.
“Are you a visitor?” someone said nearby. I turned to see a small family: a father and mother with a toddler bouncing in his stroller. “It’s just that you look surprised to see it.”
“I…am,” I agreed and smiled.
“Biggest in the southern hemisphere… or so they say,” Said the father, “Do you want your picture taken?” And signed, taking a photo. Sydneysiders, they know how beautiful their town is and don’t mind sharing it.
“I would, but only if I can share it, with you,” I replied and pulled out my phone. It took some convincing, even happy to please Sydneysiders have heard of identity theft, but in the end, Maggie, Jason with pudgy Josh in his mother’s arms took a selfy with me and the tree behind.
They soon left, but others arrived, and I soon stopped other passers-by with silver auras, giving them a Merry Christmas, an outrageous joke, or crazy tricks until they walked away with a little of their own Christmas aura. I especially enjoyed the close magic, just to see what colour wonder was.
Eventually, the night wore on, and it was too late for passers-by. I left the last few jolly (and drunk) souls singing carols and started my long walk back home. I knew I was cursed. I knew that heaven was not for me, but I’d found that maybe there was still a small place for me in Christmas, a small shred of…hope to cling onto.
Around the block from home I passed a 24-hour convenience store. They’re almost the same the world over, a collection of stuff the proprietor thought someone would need at two am in the morning. Though in Sydney, they can’t sell alcohol, they can sell you just about anything else. A rash and crazy idea appeared fully formed in my mind, and two hours later, clutching a dozen bags, I gave my love to Rashed’s (the shopkeeper) wife I set off for home.
There are one hundred and fifty-four apartments in my building. Standing outside each door, if I heard the sound of voices inside, I knocked and wished the inhabitants and very Happy Christmas. Sometimes, they were diffident, accepting my blessing with scepticism. Sometimes, they invited me in to join their celebrations. Mostly, I handed them a gift and left for the next apartment. If there was no sound, I left my small token at their door: a box of chocolates, a small posy of fresh flowers, a clever knick-knack that Rasheed had sworn by and a handwritten card that read.
“Dear Neighbour,
Regardless of how Christmas has found you,
I hope that you have the opportunity to reach out and offer Seasons Blessings to someone, either a loved one or a complete stranger.
Friday 12.35 am 5 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club
“This life doesn’t come with a hand to hold.”.
“If not our hands…then what…alone?” I looked to Izac, who had gone very silent, “Even Izac?”
My eyes flicked back to Luna’s, unable to take my eyes off the swirling storm that now enveloped her. As I watched, the black hatred, dissolved in the silver storm. Sparks of loving blue and angry red warred like flashes of lightning before they, too, were consumed in the constant swirling sadness.
She forgot me and turned to Izac, her voice a plea for understanding, “I, too, want to keep you safe, but at what cost? In my affection for you, I lost my way.”
To the poor boy’s credit, he took her hand. He couldn’t have been more pathetically loyal and loving if he’d been a dog.
“We’re stuck. Remember, we have to watch each other’s backs. This life is going to catch up with me. But, until then, I’ll do what I have to do, then leave…”
“Leave to go where and do what?” Luna cried out in exasperation, “You don’t even believe in what you have to do…Don’t make him your last day!”
“I have to make a difference…change things…then maybe I help those who are lost…find a way not to hurt people…don’t you think we should not hurt people?”
Luna’s face turned hard, “We’re made from people hurting people. Cain killed Abel, remember?”
“Caine loved Abel,” I said without meaning to. I honestly think they’d forgotten I was still in the room.
“Still killed him, though,” She retorted, not even bothering to look at me.
“There are worse things…” I replied without thinking and, to my surprise, found it to be true.
“We can be better than our beasts,” Izac said, drawing our attention back. I found myself encouraged by the sentiment.
“What if we can’t,” Luna said, a mix of rebellion and resignation.
“We have to try…” Izac and I replied in one voice, surprising each other. It took Izac a moment to gather his thoughts.
“Believe me when I say this. I’ve done a lot of harm in my life, and I want time to make up for it.” He placed his hand over his chest, not over the centre where his heart would have been, but over his left breast, like someone taking an oath, “I can’t escape this thing now, I have to do something.”
The gesture gave Luna pause.
You’re just going to drag him down into that pit with you. Is that what you want?
I took my opportunity.
“This is why I came to you two. I want to help. I know you’re here for a purpose, and I know I can help make that happen.” I affirmed to Izac.
Izac shook his head, almost sadly, “I can’t look into your mind like you can mine. The scale of what I want to do…”
So, it was still a trust thing.
Look, he wants to kill another one of your friends. He just threatened Brendan, whose next? Dominic? The Prince? It was my beast. Why was he making his presence felt now? A worm trying to spoil the apple.
Oh, hush! What are you talking about?
You’ve seen them. They’re plotting someone’s death, one of yours.
No, I thought with all surety, I don’t think his heart would allow him.
Izac continued his request, “We have to find someone and pay them a visit. They’re in Wollongong and their name is Wid. They have something to do with the foundries down there.”
I nodded eagerly. This was more like it. Finding and talking to people. Too easy.
“Kin, I assume? Kindred?” I asked, getting down to business, “Wid, so who is he when he’s at home?”
“He’s the Nosferatu Prince of Wollongong. He hates Sarrasine for what he did here in Sydney.”
Hates Sarrasine? For the overthrow of the previous Prince? But, he was in Canberra, or so I understood. I wonder if he meant to say that. I kept it to myself.
“A person of influence, “Finally! , “This is great!”
“Well, help with this, and we’ll let you in,” He stood and held out his hand.
Oh, Izac, you idiot. I was already in. You were one of mine that first evening on the docks.
I walked the few metres across the library and took his hand.
“I need to go to Lightning Ridge,” Luna interrupted. Again, my attention was caught by the spiralling of her aura, like coloured water swirling forever down a sink.”I need to find something.”
“Where’s Lightning Ridge?” I said. It sounded like something out of a fantasy novel.
“Further than Wollongong,” Izac replied, a questioning look in his eyes.
“It’s a ten-hour drive, North West,” Luna supplied. This was something of some significance to her, but she didn’t explain more, at least in front of me.
And you never were an idiot, were you, Bella Donna della Luna?
“Right,” Izac said, drawing my attention back. I’ll contact the Bone Gnawers. It won’t be a comfortable trip, but we’ll get there.”
Bone Gnawers? The werewolves were involved? I’d always wanted to meet Izac’s werewolves. This was getting exciting.
I felt my attention drift back to Luna. The hypnotic chaos of her aura kept catching my attention. I had to leave, and glancing up at the corner where the camera was, I knew where I needed to go. I made my excuses and left them alone.
“Is everything okay?” Izac asked Luna as soon as I’d gone.
You seem bitter, Luna sniped inside Ecipse’s head.
“I…strayed far tonight. I can’t tell you about it without risking you…” If I had still been there, I could have told Izac at least in this, her expression matched her silver aura.
“Does it have something to do with the people downstairs?” Izac asked, trying not to sound disappointed.
“My new friends, yes. That’s all I can tell you. I don’t want to lose you in this eclipse.”
There was a pause, and Izac did as it always did when things strayed too close to deep emotion.
“Okay. What else can we do tonight? I think the books have told us everything they can.”
“How about a drink?”
“Thanks.” He sighed, thankful that the next decision would only be what to order.
“Are you coming?” Eclipse asked, extending her hand for him to follow.
He did.
Friday 12.35 am 5 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club
We’d spend almost every night for weeks at the Crow bar and I’d yet to find the Security Room. Bruce’s inner sanctum where he spied on all of us. As I nonchalantly cruised the halls and doorways of the Crow Bar, I wondered why Dominic thought Bruce wasn’t using the same tools and skills to spy on him. I guessed they had been thick as thieves for a long time, partners in blood, even. Still, I had never been more grateful for that glimpse at Bruce’s recordings the night of Dominic’s punishment sessions. I knew the Crow Bar had cameras everywhere. But the hub of all this surveillance had gone unspied until that night.
It wasn’t exactly hidden away, it just didn’t look like anything more than a broom closet. The door was unmarked and didn’t seem to go anywhere larger than a filing cabinet. Inside, however, a narrow hallway opened into a battleaxe room full of monitors. A rack in the corner held three humming servers, storing the raw footage from the cameras. I figured each server could store maybe a hundred and twenty hours of footage. Five days worth. So much had happened in those five days of footage. My frenzy would still be captured somewhere in those servers: the tree, Ambrogino and Lucretia’s arrival, poor Blanco’s death, what happened to Luna?
But I really only wanted to deal with two.
I found the file for the library feed and scrolled to our discussion. Carefully, I manipulated the film so my disclosure of Luna’s change wasn’t so conspicuous. I didn’t mind Izac getting a sense of what I saw, but I was worried about the repercussions if the paranoid Dominic got a whiff. I also removed all talk of the Woolongong Prince, Wid. That was another little piece of information I’d rather Dominic not know about for now. Satisfied that the editing job was passable, I thought about Luna’s change. One night, that’s all it had taken. So what had happened?
I found the footage for the front door and scrolled back. I was surprised when at the ten p.m. time stamp, I spotted Luna in her new witch’s costume walking into the bar. I had expected to scroll through to earlier in the night. Where had she been for the three hours? I watched and realised that a group of oddly dressed patrons were also with her. They seemed to be following her like she was their leader. Sure enough, they ignored the common room as a unit and headed down to the V.I.P. room. I cut to the camera for the V.I.P. room and saw Izac and Luna walk in, get drinks and sit down. Of the weird-looking five, there was nothing. Scrolling back through the feed I picked up their trail. They and Luna walked down into the Lounge and took seats. They just seemed to sit and stare at her, as if trying to take their cues about what to do from her actions. When she left with a concerned Izac, they sat in the bar watching the other kin and their guests like predators. I had to wonder if these new friends of Luna’s were looking for prey among the kin. It wouldn’t be unheard of, but here?
The thought made me shudder. Diablerie, so close to home?
Noting each one’s face, I watched and waited for them to leave. It didn’t take them long, and maybe twenty minutes after Luna had left them, they left the Crowbar. Quickly, I found the camera outside the bar and spotted the group climbing into an old brown station wagon. Quickly snapping a photo of the car and licence plates, I carefully reset the room to how I found it and left, knowing I was one step closer to finding out what had happened to Luna.
Friday 1.10 am 4 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club
Stallion had a plan.
He’d given up his post as bouncer and was looking in the fridges of the kitchen for a cat. To be more accurate, he was looking for something to feed a cat.
He’d felt hard done by Izac earlier in the evening and was planning one of his little pranks.
Leaving us without even a goodbye…after I planned a fun night out for us…what is his problem?
He also had a very tiny problem in the form of thousands of fleas. That needed dealing with, and soon.
So, let’s kill two birds with one piece of steak, He thought, grabbing a steak from the fridge and heading out the back door.
With his gangrel affinity for animals, he soon had a skinny ginger investigating. Curious brown eyes stared as he waved a piece of steak just above where it could easily reach.
What’s it got?
I give you meat and you do me a favour?
Give me meat…
…and you do something for me, Izac pulled off a small mouthful of the meat and tossed it to the cat. The cat gnawed it was delighted relish.
Want more meat…what do you want?
Come with me and I’ll show you.
With another small piece of meat, he coaxed the cat into his car and drove it out to Wetherill Park and the now bloated and black corpse of the homeless man.
I give you the steak and you take the fleas.
Sure, give me steak! The cat agreed eagerly. Fleas were eternal, but a steak dinner was the opportunity of a lifetime. The fleas infested Frederick, the now ghouled-by-proxy cat. Stallion texted Izac.
I THINK YOUR CAT HAS FLEAS. MAYBE GET BRUCE TO DEAL WTH IT.
So, you right to get home from here? He asked the cat who looked at him with some concern. A cat’s may wander wide in a night of hunting and gathering but never as halfway across Sydney.
Weow?
Huh? So now you want a lift. After all I’ve done for you?
Meow!
Okay, okay! Shesh! And leading the way he drove the cat back to Leichhardt.
Friday 1.35 am4 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club
Eclipse looked around the V.I.P. lounge, but the Days of the Week had vanished as quickly as they’d arrived in her life. So much for being friends. They’d only murdered a woman together in a magical ritual. Geez!
Izac’s phone buzzes and she turns to see the message over his arm.
I THINK YOUR CAT HAS FLEAS. MAYBE GET BRUCE TO DEAL WTH IT.
“What the fuck…!” He exclaimed, “Apparently, the cat’s got…fleas.”
“Gangrels, you never know what they’re going to do,” She rolled her eyes. They were all so pointless.
“And now I have to go to the vet.”
“At this hour? That will cost you a tidy penny.”
“Adoption shelter?” Izac sighed, “I’ll pick something up for it tomorrow.”
“Don’t fuss over it. Cat’s come and go, feral ones more so.” They made it to the bar, but still no Delilth.
Did that girl ever work?
Izac glanced at Luna in true concern, “Right…okay…” He said, pulling out his wallet, “I’ll get the drinks. You’ll find a seat.”
Luna did as she was asked and casually moved through the lounge, ignoring the conspicuously empty table in favor of something better suited to the two of them.
YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO EXPLAIN HOW THAT HAPPENED, Izac quickly texted back while waiting for his meat slurpee and a glass of ‘red’. He saw my number and promptly sent off a second text.
WHAT DID YOU SEE?
His phone stowed, and with drinks in hand, he joined Luna at the table she’d selected. His phone buzzed, his hands still full. Awkwardly, he handed both drinks to Luna and checked his phone before sitting.
“I tell you, I better not be Stallion again…”
There was one from Stallion, but that wasn’t what drew his eye.
TALK IN PRIVATE. TIME OUT?
His phone returned to his pocket, he sat down without a comment. For her part, Luna didn’t seem that interested. Instead, she drank her drink and watched the room.
After a long moment, Luna broke the silence “How was Mother Pasta?”
“Grieving, actually,” Izac replied, recalling his faltering conversation with the widow.
“Who?”
“Her husband. He died recently.” “The way you’re saying that sounds like your conversation with her didn’t go too well.”
Izac sighed. Even after years of not breathing it’s amazing how essential a sigh is to mental health.
“I could have done better. I had a lot on my mind and I guess I wasn’t there for her.”
“Trying is all you can do,” Luna replied, echoing back the comment Izac and I had said earlier. Still, even though they were almost a repeat of his own words, something didn’t sit right. Was that really what she thought? He quietly contemplated her words, weighing them against how she’d been acting that night and how I’d behaved around her. Was she disinterested in Mother Pasta? Was she trying to be tasteful or did she really not care? It was like, all of a sudden, she’d forgotten how to emote. The words had the right sentiment, but there was nothing behind them. Not for the first time, Izac dreaded what I’d seen.
At that moment, a clatter down the stairs announced my arrival…
Friday 1.35 am 4 hour until sunrise 7 day until the Succubus Club
I received Izac’s text just as I was leaving the security room.
WHAT DID YOU SEE?
What had I seen? I only knew for sure that the aura I recognised as Luna’s was gone, subsumed by the swirling mass of depression and hate. How was I going to explain this to him?
Sorry mate, but your girlfriend’s not your girlfriend anymore…
I sighed and texted a reply.
TALK IN PRIVATE. TIME OUT?
As much as I loathed going back into that room, it was the one place in the entire Crow Bar that we could have a private conversation. From my perusal of the CCTV system, I knew there were no cameras in that room. Anything that happened in there remained between those who were there.
Something I’m sure Giuseppe was very aware of.
I made my way from the office level, down through the main bar and down to the V.I.P. Room. I’d done my tours of this room as a host for Dominic. There were faces that would expect me to work the room and ensure everyone was having a good time. But I was on a mission. I wanted to get to the Time Out room quietly and unobtrusively. I was still trying to work out what I would say to Izac when I missed a stair and clattered down the last few and into the room.
To my credit, I did keep my balance.
Faces turned to see the source of the chaos. Two of those faces were Izac and Luna sitting alone at a small table in the corner.
Okay clown. Now that you’ve blown that bit, blow them a balloon! Said my beast as a taunt.
I don’t mind being the clown, I replied, stepping into the centre of the room and pulling out a deck of cards.
The room’s colours swirled around me. A mix of dark green and white, which was not quite suspicious, more annoyance. Hurtful but fair, I had spoilt the intimacy that the V.I.P. lounge provides. Mixes of light and dark green are equally distrustful and envious in measure. Well, that was just to be expected when you make yourself the centre of attention.
I started a self-deprecating banter, a story full of rhythm filled with movement from the cards in my hands. I juggled those card, illustrating my points like a jazz artist improvising, which was what I was doing. It moved well, smooth with sudden snaps like blues notes to catch the listener’s attention and the watcher’s eye. I was smooth and slick, like Frankie, and I felt the groove hitting the flow when I spotted the mottled pink aura of Izac.
He was concerned and confused by my behaviour, and I became self-conscious. Could a clown be trusted with whatever secret he and Luna had between them? I could wear whatever mask I wanted, but everyone still saw me as a ‘lightweight’. I was thinking about that concern when, rising to the story’s climax, the cards burst from my hands and scattered in an explosion around me.
“Huh, leave them there,” I said to the room in general, who had given up on the clown for now, “they can stay there until they learn.”
It was time to leave, so I quickly made a Stage Right exit directly toward the Time Out room.
“Give me a minute. I just want to see if he’s okay,” Izac said quietly to Luna. She shrugged the most uncaring gesture, and let him go.
“Have fun.”
Restraining the double-take he felt that response deserved, he left the table and also made his way to the Time Out room.
Now, I’ve been doing card tricks and close work magic since I was seven. Fumbling is part of the show, and it was how you bounced back from a stumble that showed your professionalism. I already had a second deck of cards out and was going through the routine again in my head when the sliding door rolled aside.
“This is not the time for fifty-two pick up again, Rain.”
“Sorry, yeah,” And like they knew what they were doing, the cards disappeared. Magic.
“What did you see? What had you so spooked?” Izac asked, and I was lost for where to start. So, I started at the beginning.
“So, I came up the stairs and through the office. You guys hadn’t noticed me, so I took a moment to lean back and enjoy the view, the two lovers and the intermingled auras…or at least that’s what I expected to see….” “Skip the stage dressing, what did you see?”
“So I turned on Auspex, and Luna’s colours…have changed. I know her aura, it changes as her mood changes of course, but mostly she’s this low-level edge of darkness with simmering angry red and fearful orange. She was constant in that, no matter what else was happening. That was Luna, to me…” At that moment, I recalled the prophecy that Bobby Lisner had given Luna not many nights ago.
Child of fire. Half known but not seen. The age may no longer be dark, but you’ve not darkened yet. Scholarly. Brujah of modern, but not of old. This Brujah will do wonderful things.
“She’s darkened…Bobby said she would darken.” The realisation of Bobby’s prophecy coming true was almost as powerful a gut punch as the thought that Luna was no longer the young woman I crawled out of the sand with. My sister…was gone.
“Whose Bobby?” Izac asked, trying to keep up with my disjointed explanation.
“We should go and see him. Bobby Lisner…a Malkavian, we met our first night. He told our fortunes…” I barely responded as my mind disgorged Stallion’s and my fortunes.
A gangrel you neither city nor country. A lonely lot you are. Wasn’t that coming to pass now? He among the three of us seemed on the outside of things, neither belonging with us nor finding a place of his own.
A rose that wants a garden is common. Flowers are best alone. And my own, the one I was currently desperate to prove wrong, was becoming a stark reality I didn’t want to face.
I repeated the prophecy to Izac by way of explanation.
“She had a little edge, but she hadn’t darkened. She was sweet and caring. She wanted to stand for something that had meaning. Now…even as she quietly sat next to you, it was all hate, sadness, and a… psychotic swirling of it all…and that was before she knew I was in the room.”
I knew how she’d felt about me since the evening after the bane. I didn’t know why, but I’d lost her then and now…
“I don’t know where she is anymore…I’ve lost Luna.”
My words trickled to a halt under Izac’s silence. He stepped back deep in thought as pieces over the past few nights came together in his mind.
“How many watchers did you see on the roof?” He finally asked.
“Five, they made a star…” Five. The five friends who had followed her into the Crow Bar. Our eyes connected at the same realisation. The five connected to the watch had something to do with Luna’s darkening.
“We have a problem…” Izac said, “We have to find out who they are.”
“I know what car they drive,” I grabbed my phone and pulled up the image of the fifty-year-old brown station wagon.
“It’s a start,” He nodded.
“Do you think Dominic could find out who the car is registered to?”
“Huh, easy!” He scoffed. Well, we were a partnership in this. I could work on that. But what would he now do?
“That’s clearly Luna out there. Something happened to her, and clearly, these people know something about it.” He paused, deciding something and continued, “She told me she’s not telling me things to keep me safe. That’s all I know.”
Clearly Luna? A shell, the flesh and bones, doesn’t make a person. That’s only so much meat. I appreciated his stance, but he had to know. He had to understand.
“Okay…but, look, remember before I came into the room, there was no love…no compassion.”
Izac, his face a blank mask, unlocked the Time Out room door and left without another word.
Friday 1.50 am 4 hour until sunrise 7 day until the Succubus Club
While Dominic spent the morning in the loving arms of his Aunt, becoming one with death. Izac walked across the V.I.P. room and joined Luna…feeling he was closer to facing his final one.
“So, is the Raincloud over?” Eclipse asked without looking up from her drink until he didn’t reply. She glanced up and saw Izac standing, sloping shoulders, his wrinkled forehead of concern and grief, his thousand-mile stare at nothing at all. His depression at what he’d discovered couldn’t be any more obvious if there were a cartoon rain cloud for him alone.
“Izac, “ She pointed to the chair opposite her, and he slumped into to, “What’s up? You’re upset.”
“Nothin’, “ He replied automatically.
“You are a bad liar always have been, always will be. Tell me.” Words, malformed and unmentionable rolled around in Izac’s mouth before he finally dared open his mouth to speak, “There’s some…things…I have to work out…alone.”
“You know what happened last time.” She leaned back in her seat, sure of her high ground on this subject.
“It won’t happen again.” “Is that a chance you’re willing to take?”
“I have to try.”
She looked at him, trying to read what the annoying little man had said to cause this upset.
Lies, She decided and pushed his drink closer to him, “I’m here if you need me.”
His eyes lifted in that one moment, taking in every line and contour of Luna’s face, trying to see if she really meant that. Was she really there for him? Did Rain get it wrong, or had he lied to put a wedge between them? But she met his eyes like before, and he was sure that this time, the feelings behind the words were real.
They sat there a long while, him brooding silently, she scanned the room like a lioness on the savannah, looking for her next prey. Instead of her watching him, he silently watched her, clearly marking that even in her quiet moments, this was not the same woman he’d woken up beside that night.
This one is built different, He thought, I have to find out why.
Friday 2.10 am 3 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club
Stallion and his new friend, Frederick, arrive back at the bar, and the first thing he did was look for Izac. Yep, that was sure one clever trick he’d pulled. Got rid of his flea problem as well so win-win!
With the walk of a man who had done a good night’s work, Stallion entered the bar in search of Izac. It didn’t take him long to find both Izac and Luna silently drinking in the V.I.P. lounge. They too spotted him strutting into the room as if he owned it, a golden god amongst mere mortals.
He sauntered over to the bar, noticed but wasn’t bothered by the fact that Delith was missing, and got himself a drink.
“‘Bout time you showed up,” He heard someone speak behind him and turned to see a more than usually sombre Izac glaring.
“What do you mean by that?” Stallion asked in all innocence.
The righteous anger went off the boil, leaving only the sad and tired Izac, “Never mind, where have you been?”
“I’ve been out front for a while and then got bored and went to another bar for a while, why?” Though strictly not a lie, he may have changed the order of events to suit himself. What did Rain say about lies? ‘…always sprinkle it with the seasoning of the truth.’
“I also went back to the warehouse. I get around.”
“Right, “ Izac didn’t sound convinced, “How did the cat get fleas?”
Stallion shrugged, not daring to make eye contact, “It’s a feral cat. They catch fleas, I guess.”
“It didn’t have fleas before, so um…what the go, Stallion?” There was definitely a sense of tension in Izac’s voice.
Stallion shrugged again, “Hey, I just noticed it had fleas. It’s alright. There’s a few ways we can take care of this.” He said, now taking control of the conversation.
“Oh, really? Enlighten me.”
“Depends what route you want to go down.”
“What are you suggesting”, Stallion? I should go out and murder the cat I’ve been taking care of for the past couple of weeks?” “Murder? Why is that your first thought?” Man, his guy is so wound up he can’t take a joke. Then again, Stallion realised, This guy has no problem with murder.
“I don’t know, it just seems to be the first thought for everyone in this place.” And the righteous anger was back. Izac’s dark eyes grew cold and distant.
“You should know me better than that,” Stallion tried the friendship card. Weren’t they mates?
“Hmm, but I don’t. You hang out by yourself and never deal with anyone else. I’d be surprised if you knew you.”
“If you stuck around me a little more, then you’d know my priorities,” What was this bullshit about hanging around.
“How can we stick around you, you disappear…”
“Says you who ditched me. Pot calling the kettle black there. Not only me, but Delith as well.” “I’m sorry that painting the side of a building was not exactly on my list of things to do.”
“You said you wanted to come out…what the deal now?”
“Priorities is my deal.”
“Sure. You don’t say anything…you just walk away… no reason why, no waiting for us to finish..”
“I don’t have to tell you anything!” Izac’s voice, which had been at a conversational level, exploded above the general buzz in the room.
“It’s about courtesy, right?” “Courtesy. You’d know all about that.” “Nope, and I don’t give a fuck,” Stallion laughed at his own witticism and took a drink, glancing around at the faces they were now drawn to their chat.
“Friends…” Izac clenched and unclenched his hands as he held himself back from punching Stallion in his smug face.
“Anyway, a solution to your flea problem, get Bruce to do it.” Sure that was the simple answer, what was he crying about all of a sudden?
“I’ll deal with the cat myself, thank you,” Izac bit back.
“I was just providing a non-murderous suggestion, “ And the smug little smile returned, “You know, animals can be more loyal than people.”
“Said the one who killed his dog.” No one had noticed Luna step up behind Izac until her words cut through the room and the argument. Izac forgot Stallion and swung around to face her, Stallion looked like she had punched him…and not in the face.
“What…I didn’t kill my dog?” The warm gush of blood over his hands… the taste of blood in his mouth… all disconnected and without any mooring in reality.
“Well, where is it? Do you have any idea? Do you know where you are? Who you are?”
“I…in the bar…the Crow Bar. Why am I getting interrogated?” The limp body in his arms, the brown eyes partly closed… last words…’thank you”.
“Why am I getting interrogated here?” Stallion cried, aware of all the eyes now watching.
“That’s enough, Luna,” Izac said, also aware of the public show they were putting on. Luna bit down on her next comment, leaving it unsaid.
“Why are you so snappy all of a sudden?” Stallion turned on Luna, who just stared at him as if she were boring holes straight through his head.
At that moment, even Stallion bawked at what he saw in her expression, “Well maybe we can come to an agreement, put it behind us. I don’t know what’s got you all tangled up, but if you need my help, I’ll consider it. Just don’t be a jerk.”
Luna continued her death stare over the rim of her glass.
“I’m not the one with the problem here, clearly.” What had got up her?!
“Clearly,” Izac sighed, “Fine, Stallion. I’m sorry for abandoning you.”
And as if the last five minutes hadn’t happened, “That’s alright, you don’t have to apologise.” Stallion smiled smugly and drank his drink. “But you said you had a lot on my mind. Do you want to share?”
“No.”
Stallion shrugged, “We’re supposed to cover for each other, aren’t we?”
There was no reply, just a look of disgust and hate from Luna, a dismissal from Izac.
“Well, I better get home and have my little snack pack. Maybe we can do something clever, tonight?”
“If I’m free,” Izac replied coldly. With his tone and body language, he said, Go fuck yourself, Stallion.
“Sure…sure. Say, how good are you with blow torches?”
“Go to sleep, Stallion.”
“I just thought we could bond over crafting, is all. See, I’m trying to…engage with you.” “Bad timing, Stallion.” It was three little words, but they sounded like a threat.
Stallion’s eyes slipped down to glace at Luna, whose eyes now looked past him as if he didn’t exist, though the fire still smouldered behind them, ready to fulminate in a flash.
“Want to help me with something?”
“No.”
“Okay well, if you guys don’t want to play, that’s fine. I’ve just got plans, is all. I guess I’ll go then.”
And with nothing left to say or be done. Stallion left, got in his car and returned to the warehouse alone.
Friday 2.10 am 3 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club
I was alone in the room I’d only recently spent the night in, chained to the wall. I looked around it now, knowing every crack, every seam in the walls and floors and shuddered. I didn’t want to stay another moment in its confining greyness, but this was the best place for what I had in mind.
Last time, with my body trapped in torpor, I tried to reach out to other places and chose poorly. This time, instead of looking towards death, I turned my inner thoughts to the living, vibrant world and let my mind drift. My consciousness broke free of the physical and floated up into the grey space above my head. Turning, I saw my body once more lifeless. A little too much like torpor. I couldn’t look at it without reminding myself once more of the fear, pain and humiliation. I blotted from my sight and mind and focused my attention on the job at hand. I knew I was looking for a kin called Wid, who was Prince of Wollongong and made his base somewhere near the old steel works at Port Kembla.
As if thought were rocket fuel, I was aware of speeding through the night at literally one thousand miles an hour, flying through landscapes I had never seen or imagined. Straight over buildings and obstacles, flying through forests, over mountains, along rivers and coastlines until the ride slowed. I found myself hovering over a large industrial site charred black by the coal and ore that had, until recently, made this area rich.
All at once, I realised I could have started my quest for Wid here instead of back in Leichhardt. The idea of being anywhere in a thought made me giddy in a way the exhilarating ride through the night hadn’t. This was another piece of the magic that I’d given up everything for, and I wouldn’t have missed any of it. Refocusing on what I knew, I let the psychic projection guide my descent down into tunnels deep into the ground.
Like the sewers, underground tunnels, and service tunnels under Sydney where the Nosferatu dwell, the old mines, tunnels, and caves made up their home here. For hours uncounted in my incorporeal self, I searched passageways. One hundred and nine kilometres of warren, like a huge, heavily armoured underground village. A fortress protected by meandering labyrinths, covered by murder holes, and constantly watched by hundreds of pairs of eyes.
The Nosferatu here looked like they were at war, or at least were prepared for war at any moment. It made me wonder what hope we had of ever getting in to see Wid. And if he was really at war, what chance could we have that he would help us.
Friday 2.16 am 3 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before…
I should commend you for your tolerance. The coterie annoys me to no end. Your game of charades was one of survival. Learning to nip when allowed and relent to the pull of your leash when instructed.
They bore me.
All except for one.
He’s a bloodhound. You never truly forget your past. It makes you.
I can see it in his face. The stone plains hardened, his brown eyes constricted, and lips pressed together. Short sentences and shorter eye contact.
Have you caught my scent, or the others?
Your Lenore is dead and I am the Raven.
You can’t kill me Izac. Not yet.
For I am your shadow.
You are a rebel without a cause.
We could have made something. But all we have is that deep dark pit. Is this what we want for him?
Cause. People need a reason. He wants to atone for his grievances, from past lifetimes to this one. What better way to be redeemed than saving the world?
It means we will have to kill him.
Of course. For the fate we are guaranteed, if he joins the opposition our differences are eternally sealed.
Why must you take everything for me?
Because I will do what must be done. I will succeed where you falter.
He interests me but your affection stopped any meaningful progression. You were not swimming and yet, you both could not tell you were slowly drowning.
You were not enough for him to save.
I’ll prove him wrong.
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Blanco Falzo: A man who had made into a likeness of Stallion’s dog for a time. Now deceased.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Days of the Week: Pseudonyms for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of. She is Sunday, and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson, though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Woolongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Short for Kindred. Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
Thursday 10.35 pm 7 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
WITH REGULARS FROM THE BAR.
Izac mulled over Luna’s last text. He remembered being ‘one of the regulars’ himself, in a lifelong distance from this one, inside a taxi, trying to make sense of a five-word text.
He didn’t know any regulars from the bar, and he was pretty sure she didn’t usually hang out with any, either.
REGULARS FROM THE BAR.
There was only one type of regular at the Crow Bar, and normal people didn’t stick around long enough to become regulars there. The feeling that something was wrong was back, and he didn’t know why.
REGULARS
Izac’s black mood filled the taxi, stifling all chat between driver and passenger. Eventually, the taxi rolled up outside the Crow bar. Izac scrounged in his pockets for the twenty-nine dollars and sixty-five cents and silently cursed, having handed over all his money to Mr Giovanni.
The Crow bar looked odd without the familiar Stallion standing outside. Striding in, he glanced around the thinly populated common room where Luna usually sat, not finding her. The feeling rose in him like a tide rolling into a narrow straight, threatening to drown him. With trepidation, he took the stairs down to the VIP room.
He found almost instantly sitting at one of the circular tables in the centre of the room. She had on a rich red velvet witch’s dress with a slit travelling up her thigh, the jagged rent for a neckline exposing her decolletage. Though he’d never seen the dress before, it was soon forgotten as he took in the rest of the table. She seemed in charge of the little group of five who looked like the sort of seedy people he’d spent a living life either avoiding or brawling with on nights out. They looked like the bad kids, gawping at the ‘normal’ folk around them and snickering behind their glasses.
Eclipse saw Izac walk into the bar and stop to scan the crowd. He was out of place in this flimsily disguised room of predatory greed. His brow furrowed, his brown eyes earnest, he looked from face to face until he found hers.
You belong here…he doesn’t, Said Luna’s voice.
Eclipse felt nothing.
She didn’t stand or wave him over. She just watched as he carefully made his way through the crowd towards her.
“Hi, looks like you’re having fun,” He said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, “Friends of yours?”
“New faces, “ Eclipse purred and sipped her drink.
“Ur…we need to talk,” Izac dropped the uncomfortable pretence of small talk and then realised how offish he was appearing, “That is, if you have the time.”
Eclipse considered the statement. She found she had to consider everything these days. Instead of just acting, she had to imagine what Luna would have done in her place.
“Sure, “She finally said, picking up her drink.
Tuesday’s hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. Izac’s eyes flared at the interaction, but he said nothing.
“If you need any help, just let us know,” Tuesday said, his eyes flicking up at the example of male dominance before them.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about from me, friend,” Izac retorted as he followed Luna out and upstairs to the library.
Eclipse led him upstairs, noticing the way Izac kept rubbing at the red and green skin of his hands or thrusting them deep into pockets alternatively.
“Is that paint? It’s not blood, “She could attest to that tonight, “Why is there paint on your hands?”
“Stallion planned a night out of vandalism,” He pulled his hand out again and examined the splotches of split paint.
“I would have thought that vandalism was out of your ballpark.” “Yeah. Stallion. The man likes vandalism.” Izac made an embarrassed lopsided smile, “I left him and Delith to it.”
A raised eyebrow, “Delith? Not your crowd at all.”
He shrugged, which said more than a simple gesture would typically allow.
“Look, I know I’ve been cagey about things. I’m in a fair amount of shit and …well…you know I was sent here…to…” The poor good boy couldn’t even say it.
“Kill vampires, “She offered, and his head wobbled in half acceptance.
“Just one…or at least create an opportunity to kill one. I’m here to kill the Prince.” “Bigfish.” She said without surprise or recrimination.
“I’m not equipped for it.”
She turned to look at the shelves and crouched beside a set of huge leather-bound ledgers. She flipped them back and forth and pulled them out to see behind.
“What is it?” Izac asked, querying this new turn of events.
“Killing the Prince will be hard without information. I know a book….but I can’t find it….”
Izac joined Luna, pulling all the books off the shelf to do the same to the one above and the one above that.
“No, it’s not where it should be. Sticky fingers. “ She finally said, sitting back on her heels, “It was an encyclopedia on Vampires. Good for you, I paid attention.”
Thursday 10.35pm 7 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
The Kauri Foreshore Hotel, like many in Sydney, was built when five pm meant down to the local pub for blue-collar working men, and at that time, Glebe was as blue-collar as they came. The main room held a long bar where you could imagine fifty to eighty dusty, sweaty industrial and factory working men standing around swilling beer. Late on a Thursday night seventy years later, the room was almost empty. A couple were eating a meal, a woman sitting and drinking alone, a few on the obligatory poker machines and that was about it. Even the lone bartender tidied behind the bar with an air of abandonment.
“So, you go sniff out someone that you fan,cy and I’ll join you,” Delith dramatically swept a hand through the air.
Stallion looked at the slim pickings on offer.
“And you’ll find someone to your taste? Anyone like that here?”
“There certainly is, “ She teased, not giving anything away, “But you first, then we can compare.”
“Double date it is,” Stallion said and seriously started judging the talent on offer.
Outside in the beer garden, the woman in her late forties with soft blond hair sat alone, looking out at nothing in particular. Like the place itself, it seemed she’d seen better times.
“How’s your night been?” He asked, casually walking up to her.
“Oh, what? Are you trying to hit on me?” Automatically on the defensive, she softened her tone when she saw a fit young man talking to her, “You could at least buy me a drink.”
“Sure, I was hoping you’d join me and my friend over there in a little competition,” Stallion looked back at Delith, who was staring back with hungry eyes.
“How much is it paying?” The blonde asked, seeing an opportunity.
Stallion pulled out a fifty-dollar bill, and she made it disappear into her bra.
“What do you need?”
“Nothing at the moment, we’ll have to wait to see what my friend finds. As I said, this is a competition.” “Creepy, but sure. Well, do you have a place?
“We’ll stay here for now.”
“Well, why don’t you buy a girl a drink?” She drained the last dregs of the one she had and returned to staring at nothing.
Stallion went back inside to the bar and ordered two of whatever she was drinking.
“Vodka and Redbull?” The barman confirms forlornly before mixing the drink, “Double?”
“Yeah,” Accepted the poor excuse for a drink and paid. Delith stood in the middle of the room, drawing all the attention to herself. It was as if she felt there was a spotlight just for her, and she was basking in it.
Stallion shook his head and returned to the woman, handing over the fresh drink. She took it eagerly as Stallion took a seat beside her and caught Delith’s attention. He raised a thumb to tell he was set and waited for Delith to make her move. Instead of heading for one of the other customers, she headed straight over to where Stallion and the blonde were sitting.
“Hi, what’s your name, sweetie?” She asked in her saccharine sweet voice that women use on babies. The blonde turned to Delith and smiled faintly.
“Kasey, what’s your name you pretty young thing?”
“Delith, “ Not taking her eyes from Kasey, Delith took a seat.
“I thought you were going to bring your own,” Stallion said reproachfully.
“No, you picked so well,” Delith smiled, and Kasey tried to copy the expression.
“She suits your tastes, then?”
Delith brushed a soft golden lock of hair from Kasey’s care-worn face, “Oh, very much so.”
“So, what do you reckon? Head on out?”
“Yes, we should find somewhere nice and quiet,” Delith winked at Stallion, “Let’s go buy you a car.”
It took Stallion a moment to register what Delith was talking about.
What about the bike?
And then he registered the wink and understood the deception.
“Come on, the night is not getting any younger here,” Delith was now impatient to leave.
“Ah, sure,” He gulped down his drink and was surprised to see Kasey do the same.
Arm in arm in arm, they walked out of the bar and around the corner into the alleyway behind the bar. They shambled merrily, three drunks on their way home together.
“How rude of me, would you like to go first, or can I?” Delith asked as they stopped in the shadows behind the bar. Kasey’s bloodshot eyes flicked from her to Stallion.
“Ladies first,” Stallion said gallantly, instantly spoiling it a moment later.
“I’ve never watched someone…enjoy themselves in front of me before.”
Delith, the predatory hunger back in her eyes leapt at Kasey, misjudging her attack and barely scraped her teeth against the wattled skin of Kasey’s throat.
“What…what are you doing? What the fuck was that?” Kasey pushed Delith away, sending her sprawling on the dirty street.
Delith looked embarrassed and mad.
“Look, you have to work up to it,” Stallion said, stepping in and taking his turn, “You have to do it smoothly, work up to it.”
Taking Kasey’s hand, he kissed the inside of her wrist, the elbow, and her decolletage. Kasey leaned against the wall, relaxing into the feeling as Stallion…kissed her on the neck.
Kasey hardly struggled against Stallion as Delith picked herself off the grubby street and bit into the other side of her neck.
Stallion drank his fill and released the woman. Delith, her excitement building, almost climbed onto Kasey, tearing at her throat and clinging on like a ravenous creature.
“Hey, Delith… Delith, you can quit it now,” Stallion placed a hand on Delith’s shoulder.
With a growling snap of her teeth, Delith turned on him, her lower face covered in Kasey’s blood, “Don’t touch me!”
She returned to the ruin that had been the Kasey, and Stallion became very aware of how exposed they were. He looked around for cameras, overlooking windows and passers-by.
Finally, Delith let Kasey go, and the body slid down the wall to fall into a lifeless heap at their feet.
“Stal, don’t ever do that again,” Delith said, now a little more composed. She pulled a wet wipe from her pocket and cleaned herself up.
“Delith, we didn’t have a look out, someone could have seen. I was worried.”
“In Glebe?” She smiled, and though her face was now clean, her teeth were still stained red. In the darkness, they looked black, “Whatever for?”
“I don’t know,” Stallion was very uncomfortable with how things had turned out. Delith had turned into a ravenous monster, and now they had a body to get rid of. It was all just a little too much, “I thought I lost you there to your own hunger.”
“Look, check yourself, Stal. When I eat, I enjoy it, and I leave nothing behind.”
“Okay, so what now?”
“Well, I have to go back to work.” “I thought you took a sickie.” “No, just popped out for a quick bite, I’m sure Mr Giovanni would understand. Besides, I don’t want to disappoint him,” Now Delith looked at what remains of Kasey.
“Know any good ways to get rid of a body?”
“Usually six feet under with animal bones scattered on top,” Stallion replied, his eyes searching the ground. There was no loose ground to dig a hole here.
“Oddly specific. Oh, well, you look strong…” “You want me to carry her?”
“Not very far. In a dumpster to be found a bit later, or pop her down sewer cover…” She pointed to a square metal plate in the alley behind them.
“Don’t the Nos live down there?”
“They don’t mind leftovers,” She shrugged as if considering the Nosferatu was… unsavoury.
With a half-articulated grumble, Stallion stalked over to the manhole cover. It wasn’t meant to be pried up by fingers, but his were more than able to lift the heavy metal plate away. He returned for Kasey, fished around inside her bra and found his fifty dollars and a few other notes besides. He then dragged and carried the corpse the short distance and stuffed it down the hole. It was a messy job, especially after Delith had finished with it, but once the shoulder was past the hole, the rest of her slithered into the darkness with a satisfying thud.
Delith was waiting by his bike when Stallion returned from replacing the cover. Delith had said she had a taste when it came to her food, but for the life of Stallion, he couldn’t see what Delith had seen in that loser, Kasey. And frankly, what did it matter? Delith was okay, a bit of fun, but she wasn’t a mate or anything. Besides, the expression on her face as she waited for him was bitter, as if Kasey had left a bad taste in her mouth.
Yeah, whatever, Stallion thought and mounted the bike.
In uncomfortable silence, they rode back to Leichhardt, the Crow Bar and their respective jobs.
Thursday 10.50 pm 7 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
“Prince Sarrasine, the sixth generation of the serpent, from the Sabbat, followers of Set. Eclipse, acting the bookworm Luna recited from her readings. “Sixth generation…bigger than anything I’m capable of taking on…” Izac mused sullenly.
“Yeah, he was embraced during the Byzantine period, but the specific date is unknown. When the fall came, he travelled to England from there to here. He claims to be a Toreador, though that is just a mask, and he has a tendency for Ventrue power.”
“They’re just his mask, though. You said he was a follower of Set? The worst of the worst. No wonder the masks.”
“Interestingly, he overthrew the reign of six others, though I’ve only found the names of three.”
” I think I know where some of them are….from my meeting the other night…I talked to my sire.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me earlier?” A spark of frustrated anger caught in Eclipse’s question. A flash of something ignited in her expression. She looked almost offended.
“I didn’t want you involved…I didn’t want you in danger…”
“Look where we are?!” He hadn’t imagined that look. She was mad.
“I was trying to do this alone. I didn’t want to get any of you involved… I didn’t want to get you hurt.”
“Well, it’s a bit late, isn’t it?” What did she mean by that? He thought.
Luna had always been a mercurial. He remembered when they first met. She’d launched herself at his neck because her beast had told her to. She was as changeable as the weather. It was part of what made her…her.
“Look, I promised to have your back, and to me, that meant keeping you out of this mess. Like…I’ve lost my heart over this…I don’t want to see that happen to you…or worse.”
Eclipse sat frozen, Luna’s voice in her mind pleading.
Please don’t kill him. I know you see him as something pathetic, but …he’s rare and special. He should be cherished.
Eclipse sighed.
“Well, I only know of three of the six. What do you know?”
Izac’s shoulders released the tension he didn’t know he’d been holding, “Abram, a Ventrue. He’s in Canberra. Agaricus is a Child of the Moon, they’re in Hobart. Wid is a Nosferatu, and he has something to do with the steelworks down on Wollongong. Montague Layton, a Toreador, was in Melbourne, but his child is in charge down there, so no one knows what happened to him.” The names and locations tumbled out of his as if they’d only been waiting their chance to be told, “The other two are dead. I have locations. I just need to find them. I need your help.”
“To kill a serpent?” Luna’s lips curled up in the mockery of a smile, “Sounds like my kind of time.”
Eclipse’s smile froze as a wave of cold shivered up her back. Though a familiar sensation from the time before, it was new to this life, giving her pause. Mocking the serpent was not such a great idea.
Sensing her shiver and thankful for her willingness to help, Izac shuffled closer, putting his arms around her.
“Thank you.”
Eclipse needed to think. Another ‘What-would-Luna-do moment’. In the end, she allowed herself to settle into his embrace. It seemed the best course of action. Threading an arm behind him, she
hugged him back. They sat entwined for a long moment, Izac grateful for the acceptance, Eclipse grateful he was a dull-witted oaf.
“By the way,” Izac broke the silence, “Who are your new friends?” She was ready for this question. She’d had, had more than enough time to formulate an appropriate reply,
“I got bored. Three days in the same room is enough even for me. So I went downstairs. No Delith, the one time I needed her to make me a drink. They saw me alone and invited me over.”
‘“Nice enough, people?”
She was also ready for this one, “Not your crowd, but they reminded me of people I used to hang with…before these nights.” It was the right mix of innocent reminiscence and ‘you just wouldn’t understand.’
“Wel…I don’t have anything…I mean…you can stay with me…if you want?” What? Now that you’ve finished all your boy’s talk and nonsense with Stallion? Eclipse thought to herself before she was interrupted by Luna.
Ah, just like a sweet, awkward nineteen-year-old boy…but then again, we kill nineteen-year-old boys, don’t we?
What are you talking about?
The first night, the sweet boy Mr Giovanni gave you to drink from and you….
Stop it.
Suddenly, she realised she’d been silent too long. The look on Izac’s face was shifting from a desperate need for her acceptance to concern.
“It’s just that I had a bad feeling…before. I felt something was wrong. Clearly, I shouldn’t have worried. You’re the smartest person I know, right?”
Oh no, nothing’s wrong, Luna sprung up again, full of snarky vitriol, we’ve come to a realisation, haven’t we, Eclipse?
Inside, Eclipse froze. It’s just a voice…just a voice, and I know the best way to silence it…
She looked around the books in the library as if considering her choices as she decided what to say next.
“I guess I can help you research.”
Instinctly, Izac’s hand went to the moon pendant around his neck. She was with him. His to keep.
“Research is the name of the game now, at least for the rest of this night,” Now he turned to the shelves, focusing on the occult section, “Seen anything about poisons that kill vampires?”
They looked directly for Vampire hunters’ guidebooks and indirect for information sources, including old stories where Vampires died in unusual ways. They found the obvious culprits: garlic, sunlight, running water, fire, silver and true love’s kiss. It seemed, though, that as long as you made sure of the job, a shotgun to the face was very effective. The problem with Vampires was they often didn’t stay down. In that sense, sunlight and fire were most effective. A nuclear bomb would be efficient, but so would a garbage compactor if you stayed there and made sure. And, of course, there was always diablerie.
“Your role is going to be a little more active than you’d like,” Eclipse said after a long search through the texts.
“I had a feeling,” Izac sighed, “What about encouraging the founders to come back? They would want revenge.”
“Unlikely. There was a split within the group themselves. They were already falling apart. Sarrasine just took advantage of the turmoil.”
“Yeah, but at the same time, when you get betrayed together, it’s the enemy of my enemy.” “I think you’re putting too much faith in people who gave up decades ago.”
“Look, even one would provide leverage…something to balance the scales in our favour.”
“There would be others who want to kill the Prince,” Eclipse suggested.
“Oh, and you’re going to just ask around? Openly?”
She rolled her eyes, “I’m sure you know I know better.” “Yeah, you do.”
“What about your sire? What side do they work for? What’s their angle?” She asked. Izac’s gloom extended out past him and into the room.
“Yeah, she’s made it quite clear that this is my quest. She’s offered…if I need something…to let her know, but I can’t get in contact with her too often, it will raise too many suspicions. If I’m going to ask her for something, I need to have the plan all setup and ready to go.” “It has to be worth the ask,” She mused, and he nodded in agreement.
“And I’m running out of time.”
“No, you’re not. What does Mr Giovanni say, we have nothing but time.”
Thursday 10.50 pm 7 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
A bathhouse sounded ideal for a relaxing, fun night out when it had been suggested back at the bar. A few hours of steam, talking, and a little more than talking seemed about my speed. I had unfortunately forgotten a couple of truths about the Vampire body. One is they are cold to the touch. Sure, an ambient temperature of seventy degrees centigrade is going to warm up even a corpse on a mortuary slab, but there is no sweat, or internal heat adding to the warmth in the moment. My touch was forever…cool and, to Brendan, a little clammy.
The second truth I should have remembered from our first night. There is only one thing that arouses the Vampire body, and it does not require the use of…sex organs. Where an erection would be natural, accepted, and, in this case, encouraged…there was nothing.
For the former, I was forever adjusting, getting as close to the heat source as possible, making sure the wine (and whatever other substances Brendan wanted) kept flowing. An advantage of ghouling my best friend earlier in the night was he was very unlikely to die from an overdose.
For the latter, I fell back on what I knew, performance. I kept Brendan entertained, amused, aroused and satiated to the point where eventually, there was no room for thought. You don’t need penetration to fuck someone’s brains out.
And, I must admit, I was masterful. In times gone by, I would have had the old Greek men weeping into their beards at the beauty of my seduction. It wasn’t all one way, either. The colours that flowed from Brendan were like something I’d not experienced in the months since gaining Auspex. Even then, as Brendan lay spent, heavy with drowsiness, I took a moment or two to enjoy him. He was fit and lean, you had to be to fit into those dresses and strut around all night. Under chiffon and tulle, abs lay. I kissed them, taking a nibble and a sip. He moaned, and I kissed the pain away. I did it again and again. A bicep, a peck, an oblique, a lat. A kiss, a nibble, a sip, and wipe the pain and the bite away. Magic!
Why are you just going in for a nibble? Here’s the cake laid out…take it all!
That treacherous beast whispered as I started to sink into my own sensation-filled revelry.
No… I moaned in my own mind against the injustice, Just give me this, this small moment.
I continued to peck and sip, drawing the tiny mouthfuls of life one at a time, savouring the heat and the heartbeat and the rush every time. And the beast let me be, it too was satisfied by the action, the art of it, the restraint and release.
Brendan eventually fell unconscious. Satisfied myself, I just lay beside him, spooning against his warmth, the feeling of skin against skin in a quiet moment. I placed my ear against his back and listened to his heartbeat, the regular slow rhythm of his breath, even the surprising gurgle of his digestive system. I’d missed this. The moment when there was nothing but the two bodies together.
I lay there a long time, mindlessly enjoying the perfection of the human body, until I noticed Brendan shiver. I was making him cold. I couldn’t warm him as he warmed me. It was time to go.
Rising quietly from the bed, Brendan’s hand unconsciously reached out for me. It would always be like that now. I’d ghouled him, and he would always need me. I’d taken away part of his self-will, at least where it had to do with me. The thought was bittersweet. Though I had made a void in his soul, I knew that only I could fill it.
I checked he was still breathing easily, silently dressed, and left, the night’s enjoyment done before midnight.
Thursday 11.00 pm 6 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
On the Otherside it’s hard to judge time. There, time has no meaning as the wind howls through the landscape and in the distance, things move against the horizon. Dominic and Lucretia were standing on a low bluff overlooking all there was to see, at least all for Dominic to see.
“No, we can’t journey further in, we have no water of life for you,” Lucretia said to her nephew’s disappointment.
“I’m fine just taking in the sights,” He seemed content to stand on the bluff, kicking sand around and experimenting with time, sound and his senses.
“So, you want to learn a new path?”
“Yes, I want to extend my studies.”
“That’s good. And it seems you have a genuine interest, which is also good. I do have a favour to ask, but you have to promise to keep this a secret, even from Uncle. Even under punishment of being wraithed.”
The statement gave Dominic pause. He stopped running sand through his hands and gave Lucretia his full attention.
“As the others aren’t much interested in Australia, I feel pretty sure I can keep this a secret.” “Good. Before I cease to be,” She gestured across the wastes to the land of the dead, “I would like to raise one of our family to some worthy level of recognition. Something that I can call mine before I go to a good death. Do you understand what I am saying?”
The words were plain enough, but the sentiment expressed was both daunting and disturbing. She would raise him up and teach him everything she knew. She would then allow the final death to claim her?
“I get what you’re saying,” He replied in his blunt New York. This didn’t seem like the time for beautiful language.
“So you could suffer for that?”
He paused again. He was no stranger to suffering. Over his many years, he’d suffered a great deal in order to be where he was. But was what she was offering worth the suffering? And was part of the suffering to kill her?
“I’m not sure what you mean by your death. Aunty, you’ve been around for a very long time. I’m pretty sure no one wants you dead…at least, not in the family.”
“Only me, dear nephew.” She replied simply, staring out over the plain, “The more you study this world and discover its sights, you realise there is an obvious line between what others believe is the normal world and…everything else,” She gestured to the world around them, the vast unchartered landscapes of death.
“After seeing all this, interacting with ghosts, dancing with wolves, and visiting the various hells, I can’t blend into conventional reality. I don’t fit in anymore. Look at me and your uncle. Unless we went to some fancy dress ball, we’d be staked within minutes of showing ourselves.” She turned back to her nephew, her face a mask of grave concern.
“For you to get where we are would take the same sort of suffering. You will cease to find your public face… adequate. Are you ready for that?”
And now he understood. The world, even to him, was only a small part of creation, how much more must there be for her? At the same time, she could no longer engage with normal life. She had no frame of reference to communicate reasonably with others, and her appearance now limited her socially. She was trapped in places run by the family, the same old faces, the same old politics, death and loss. Yes, there was suffering, but at least for him, what an opportunity!
“So, are you ready to start learning your lessons?” She asked.
“Yes,” He nodded, his eyes shining.
Thursday 11.00 pm 6 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Delith stepped off the bike like a punk starlet at an opening night and walked into the Crow Bar as if Stallion didn’t exist. Though pouty and unhappy, Stallion had to admit she had a glow about her that only a good feed could provide. For his part, he quietly took the bike around to the underground carpark and started putting the registration plates back on.
As his body went through the menial task, he tried to work out what to do next. The boy’s night out was a bit of a bust. He didn’t even know where Izac had gone off to. No message, not even a goodbye. So, what else? Study? He’d had enough of study for a little while. What else was there? Work?
Shit.
Before, it had been easy. Sleep when you crash. Party with the guys, fight and let the suburbs know who was in charge. In between, do a little weed, forget and start the process all over again.
Shit. Good times.
The menial task was completed, and with nothing but reminiscing keeping him in the garage, Stallion took the stairs and headed for his position at the front of the Crow bar.
Upstairs, the darkening moon and the shining knight were still gathering information about how to commit regicide. Still, information gathered is not plans laid or enacted. At that moment, they were safe behind Mr Giovanni’s walls, safe under his adopted-sireship of Luna.
Thursday 11.00 pm 6 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
It seemed to Dominic that Lucretia lived up to her reputation as a risk-taker. She may not be cutting her wrists and exsanguinating herself, but her extreme actions would have killed lesser immortals. Dominic found her lust for death intriguing.
His previous training had been in Stygia, the Kingdom of Iron. The Otherland available from the gateway was ancient and isolated, making it more like the Egyptian than it did any European or North American concept of death. The Dark Kingdom of Clay, another name for The Dreaming, differed from the Egyptian by having two layers. Like the society it was the shadow of it contained The desert or the Native lands, and The Cities.
“Those who live in the Cities live quiet lives, eking out an existence much as they did in life until they finally ascend. Those of the Native lands choose not to ascend and desire to stay with the land. The idea of the Dreamtime.”
“So when I have asked questions of the dead here, it has been a native being one with their land?” Dominic asked, thinking back to the head, who had answered his summons.
“But even here, they have heard of us, and none of the dead like us very much,” Lucretia explained, “It’s a rather sad affair. But depending on who you talk to, you’re bound here when you die.”
“What do you mean bound?”
“Well, you’ve heard the rumours about Ambrogino, haven’t you?’
He nodded. Sure, it wasn’t common knowledge that Ambrogino ate ghosts, but Dominic had heard the rumours. But what did that have to do with being bound to a certain afterlife?
“It was an old thing of Capadocians who wanted to understand death in order to rule it. Uncle…Uncles really, wish to become its kings, and they believe that if they eat death they can diablerise it. Odd, isn’t it.”
“It is,” Dominic agreed, but at the same time, such a revolutionary idea he couldn’t help but be intrigued.
“That’s why he’s here, of course. He’s looking for …pieces and sent me to find them.”
Pieces. Yeah, Dominic understood that. When people died, they took not just themselves, their souls and memories but also the things they revered in life. Lore, relics, trinkets, and images all pass to the Otherside with the dead.
“I’m here looking for pieces of forgotten knowledge,” She admitted, “Something that will help him in his quest. If I can find it, maybe he’ll let me pass on. But, right now, I’m too useful.” She said wistfully before focusing back on her nephew, “And before you ask, you can’t come. It would be much too dangerous a quest. You are not equipped for it.”
“Not yet,” He countered, and she had to agree.
“Not yet.”
They looked out over the not so empty desert for a moment of silent contemplation.
“Aunty,” Dominic finally asked, “How would you like to go?”
“Oh, in a blaze of glory!” She replied with more life than she’d shown all conversation, “I want to be remembered for a millennium! Most of us think we’ll live forever. Live to see the final sunrise, but that’s not how things are really. We exist, we have our moments, and if we’re lucky, we get to say how we go out. We just get a little more time than others.”
“I never thought about it that way before,” Dominic said after a long silence, “We’re fed the family line…”
“‘Get Smart, Get Useful or You die!’ ‘A useless Giovanni is a dead Giovanni.’” Lucretia supplied, and Dominic nodded.
“But many die of old age never receiving the prize.”
And to that too, he nodded his agreement.
Friday 12.00 am 5 hours until sunrise. 8 days until the Succubus Club
MISSED TALKING TO YOU. WHERE ARE YOU? I texted Luna while heading back to the Crow bar in a taxi.
Now I’d done what I could for Avel and Brendan, my thoughts turned back to Luna, Stallion and Izac. Stallion…he is my brother, we came out of the same sand together, and yet we’d never really seen eye to eye on anything. Luna on the other hand, had understood, had shared part of herself as I’d share my story. She had been there for me time and time again. We had been close, and I wasn’t sure what had gone wrong. Had I changed so much? I felt the change, like an empty beach after a long storm, I was still trying to pick up the pieces…of me.
LIBRARY WITH IZAC, Came the reply.
Izac. Someone else would feel threatened by the interloping good boy with the calming touch. And I had to admit, we didn’t start off well, but I could see his worth. So much like others I’ve known. So willing to give that they forget themselves in the deal. I knew that in whatever endeavour he set himself, he was likely to fail without help. The werewolf business was an example. In helping them, he’d lost his heart and weakened himself. The same could have been said for Boofhead. He’d compromised himself over Stallion’s sentimentality. It didn’t make him wrong or bad, just flawed…like all of us.
DOES THREE MAKE COMPANY? I texted back. I did want to see them both, but I also didn’t want to get in the way of their time together.
SURE, come the reply a short while later. Did they have to talk it over or something?
When the taxi stopped outside the bar, Stallion was there to greet me. He looked fed up, which was his usual expression while on duty. Still, he welcomed me, maybe not like a brother, but at least a friendly acquaintance.
“Hey, welcome back,” He held up his hand for a high five, and I never leave a brother hanging.
Anything interesting been happening tonight?” I asked, expecting things to have been quiet as usual.
“I just went out and had a snack. Pretty good night, even left snacks for the Nos, “ The boy needed to learn how to tell a story, but I was intrigued.
“You talked to some No….ur…our friends down below?”
“No, just Delith.” Was his cryptic reply.
“What about Delith?” What was that manic bitch up to now?
“We had a bit of a talk, and went out for a snack.”
So, wasn’t getting the love she thought she deserved from big daddy Giovanni she was trying it on with his childe?
“Uh, you went out with Delith?”
“Well, originally I invited Izac, but he had to be a spoilsport and leave halfway through.”
It still didn’t explain how Delith was involved.
“You do know the lad’s vegetarian?” I asked, not sure what he expected from Izac.
“Augh, na, we went out to do something else,” He explained. I waited to find out what the something was, but he didn’t initially feel that was important to the flow of the story.
“Right. Okay then, well, I’ll just head inside and see what’s going on,” I made to leave.
“I don’t know if Delith took any pictures, but we did some artwork you might appreciate. Seems like your sort of deal.”
“You went out with Delith and Izac to do art?” The whole sorry story was slowly coming out like a fractured kidney stone, one excruciating piece at a time.
I’d been a spotter for Lenny on more than one of his grand art projects and knew the thrill of running through the night having made your small mark on the world. Still, the idea of Stallion, Izac and Delith together tagging? It sounded like the start of a joke.
“I guess I’ll go see what she has, then,” I said vaguely, more interested in the conversations to be had inside the Crow bar than out.
“Yeah right. Have a good one,” Stallion waved me off, seemingly sorry the crumbling mess of a conversation was at an end.
“Yeah, you too, Stallion,” I replied, feeling a tiny ripple of sympathy as I left him to do his job and stepped inside.
It wasn’t hard to find Delith, she was always in the centre of things in the common room. I asked her what Stallion had meant by art.
“Oh yes, Stallion and Izac were having a good time, and I thought I’d learn more about the family and get to know the boys.”
Get to know the family? So, she wanted in the coterie now? Maybe she’d appreciate a Daddy Giovanni.
I continued asking questions about the night but turned on telepathy and focused on her surface thoughts
Of course, they were thrilled to have me along, who wouldn’t be? I’m the centre of the party, I just wish people with just come out and admit it. Like, Stal is cool, he put up his tag, but mine was art, baby, someone should knock down that wall and hang it in a gallery…
I asked about the boys and what she thought of them. The more the dialogue moved away from her, the more disturbance I felt in her inner monologue. It was less phrases and more images and sensations, the gnawing at a flabby neck, tearing of flesh and the taste of blood. Phrases like Slovenly and Waste of Humanity littered her scattered thoughts until I realised she wasn’t thinking about one sorry victim but hundreds over her time. All of them were torn, abused, drained and abandoned to feed her insatiable ego.
Her delusional image of herself and her importance was impressive, but nothing I hadn’t worked with before.
“Hey, Delith, I really appreciate how you spent some time with Stallion tonight, it was very generous of you to give your time. I don’t want to say he doesn’t fit in with the rest of the coterie, but…he has his quirks.” “Well, he is gangrel after all. You wouldn’t expect a dog not to get a couple of fleas.”
I had thought of working with Delith. She’s lived years in these nights, she’s Ventrue and knows how to turn heads. She could have her spotlight, and I could work the magic of the spectacle from behind the scenes. Still, did I really want to fight for my share with Delith? She could make a good straight man, my stooge or patsy…I shelved the idea and went upstairs to find the two love birds.
I’m light on my feet and know every creak in the stairs heading up to the office. It wasn’t a surprise that I reached the doorway to the library, and neither Izac nor Luna had heard me. I silently leaned back on the door jam, enjoying the tableau of the two of them, head to head over an enormous leather-bound tome. As I had all that evening, I flicked on Auspex to voyeuristically experienced the moment with their mingled auras. Izac was as expected, a cloud of bitter brown, cut through with the pink of compassion for Luna and light blue calm. In contrast, what I saw in Luna’s aura made me gasp. Silver streaks of sadness, black hatred, distrustful light green and suspicious dark blue, all swirling together in a psychotic spiral. What was worse was that these weren’t for me. She didn’t know I was there. These were the colours she felt around Izac!
The gasp caught their attention.
“Oh, Rain,” Izac started. Luna’s eyes flickered up to see me at the door. She returned to her reading dismissively.
“I…you looked so beautiful…I didn’t want to disturb the…tableau.” I fumbled.
“How was your night?”
“Huh? Sorry, you asked something?” I replied, thrown by the complete change in the young woman I considered a sister and confidant.
“How was your night? It’s been a while,” Izac repeated.
“Yes, you did ask that,” I tried to gather my thoughts. What had I been doing? Oh, that’s right, “Ah well, it wasn’t what I was hoping….you can’t go back, it seems.”
“What?” Izac asked, now I was unable to tell a story.
“I have to find other ways of having a good time with what we are.” They didn’t want the details, and I really didn’t want to share them.
“Right,” Izac was not convinced.
“I went out to see Brendan,” I replied by some way of an explanation.
“Oh, Brendan, right, your friend.”
“Did you kill him?” Luna asked, not looking up from her page. It was the first thing she’d said to me all night, virtually the first thing in days, and nothing could have had more barbs in it than that short phrase from her.
“What, no…what?” I blurted out. Even Izac gave her an odd look of surprise.
“I don’t know, “She now deemed to look up, her eyes on me cold and distant, “You just seem to have that tendency when you go to see old friends.”
It was fortunate I was leaning on the doorjam, she nearly floored me.
“I…I..why would you say…what…do you think that’s what I do?” The group from the old squat, Lenny, swept through my mind. The guilt and loss all fresh once more.
“You’ve been taught so many lessons, I would have thought you would get it by now.”
“Friends? You’re a friend aren’t you? Do you expect the same will happen to you?”
“Old friends, friends from your past. Friends who are still human.” She retorted back and the scene of us on our first night, both her and Stallion talking about all those they were leaving behind. And I wouldn’t, not then, not now.
“Brendan is part of this world now. He was chosen by the Succubus Club.” “Ah, but he’s not one of us, not of this world.” “He’s not a vampire, but he is part of this world,” I left the thought hang. He was part of my world.
“What do you mean he’s part of this world…” Izac started but was overridden by Luna.
“And where will that lead him, Rain?” Her words were ones Luna could have used of old, but the voice, the sharp tone was nothing like Luna. It was like she suddenly didn’t give a fuck!
“Rain, I’m going to give you some advice, “ Izac said, bringing down his Fatherly words of wisdom, “When it comes to people from your old life, it is best to distance yourself as much as possible. It will hurt, but it’s better than the alternative.”
“What if this life is threatening his? Shouldn’t I do something about that?”
“And how did that happen?”
“He…,” I actually had no idea how they’d found him, “I didn’t do it. He already had the gig the night I came out of the sand.”
“You’re definitely not making it better.” “How could I be making it worse? I’m trying to keep him safe.”
“He’s not safe anymore. All your efforts…they’re not going to work, “ Izac was sounding so reasonable, so practical, “You need to get him away from here…you need…” “Yeah,” I knew that, “But he’s not going to run away from the Succubus Club, he sees this as his big break.”
“But Rain, at the Succubus Club, they’re going to break him open like a pinata!” This was the unreasonable Izac, “Putting him in that situation is killing him yourself.”
“I don’t have a choice!” I cried and could feel the blood tears, “He won’t give up what he sees as his chance!”
“There’s always a choice!” He bellowed back, and now I did step back, nearly tripping back into the office. I knew Izac was a man of violence, I’d seen it before. I accepted it as who he was, but I never thought I’d have to be on the receiving end again.
“He was chosen. It had nothing to do with me.” I replied quietly, and I saw Izac’s righteous anger crumble under some internal realisation. He clutched at his chest, where the Prince had stolen his heart.
“I’ll tell you what I’ve told you before,” With Izac flagging, Luna took up the banner, “Let him go. If he dies, he dies. He chose to accept the contract, that was his choice. You can’t keep taking that away from him.”
“No. No. No. While I can act, while I have a chance to do…something, I’m going to try even if it leads to the same conclusion. Even if the trolley is still on that track, I’m still going to try.”
We weren’t going to agree on this, it was pointless to argue. It was time to change the subject.
Luna had changed that was a fact. In one night, less even, she had evolved into a completely different woman. Where old Luna had been sullen, sarcastic and biting, this one was hard and confident. Where old Luna had been sympathetic at least and often kind, this one was….cruel and distant. The colours told me something fundamental had changed for her, something she was trying to hide.
“You’ve found something, haven’t you Luna? Have you found something to fight for, your spark?”
“Nice deflection, magician,” She bit back, but I wouldn’t be put off.
“Still, you’ve changed.” “Everyone changes.” “I’ve only been gone a night.” “A lot can happen in a fucking night, huh Rain?”
“Yeah…yeah…it only takes a night.” I looked at Izac clutching his chest, my own brush with death, and now it was Luna’s turn.”But what is it? What’s happened? ”
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, Luna. You have assurance in something. What is it? I said I’d be there to help, and I meant it.”
“I don’t need your help!” It was her turn to yell,” You can’t save me!”
“Do you need saving?”
“No, but you’ve always believed I couldn’t figure out my own way. Like I always needed some sort of help. I don’t need help.”
“I’m sorry you felt that way,” I pulled back. Whatever was going on with Luna was not going to be solved with a conversation, “I only wanted to support… whatever path you found. Wherever your passion led.” “This life doesn’t come with a hand to hold.” She said, and I couldn’t believe this was the same woman who took my hand on the dock instead of attacking Izac. Who allowed me to take her injured hand after Dominic torturous punishment. Who grasped my hand when I saw what was left of a murdered friend. If there was one thing I’d learned in my life, if you reach out, there is always a hand to hold.
“If not our hands…then what…alone?” I looked to Izac, who had gone very silent, “Even Izac?”
Friday 12.35 am 5 hours until sunrise. 8 days until the Succubus Club
The library feels the same but at the same time so much different. Once a place where to seek knowledge, now it’s a place to openly conspire.
I found her down in the VIP room. She had mentioned she was with some of the “regulars.” I didn’t recognise them. These new characters are a mix. Something about them rubs me the wrong way: they way they stared, the sense of superiority. The implication I was a threat; sure, they don’t know me, but that’s no reason to assume the worst of someone.
Hypocrite.
What’s more, she seemed both in and out of place in the room. Her usual is the library, pouring through the books looking for something.
Direction?
Purpose?
A reason?
I guess in a way she has one now. A purpose I am still tentative to provide her. I said as much, she was biting about that. Unlike the last time I confessed so much to her, she was strangely cold. I’m sure she can understand my reasoning, but its not up to me to have her agree. These last few nights must have been tough, maybe something happened, or some revelation has come to her.
Spoilt for choice but well out of the means to achieve them, we have groundwork to do, a lot of it. She is right in saying my role will be far more involved than I’d like. The other founders are still out there, it’s more a matter of whether they would care. I think its worth at least a shot, Luna is sceptical. At least once it’s over, we I can move on. For now, knowledge is power. But bookwork will only take me so far.
Rain is heading our way, maybe he could help as well, in a way. He was already invaluable as my eyes and to a degree I do trust him. At the same time…
For every thing it was and wasn’t. Izac’s squared shoulders, puffed chest, and sceptical look would have swooned Luna in the past.
Izac uses his morals as a compass. He is misguided by the unattainable qualities of said morals in an imperious society. He will sit and preach about the pathways he would travel to keep himself straight.
In that winding path, he has forgotten the point to his morals. In his sea of inaction, he lost the one worth the effort of paddling.
Will I save him or let him drown?
Sure, bring him into this. Ruin him too.
The pit was our choice. Every step you take is ours. You were but a shadow of me. Everything you touch you ruin. You suck the life out of every-fucking-thing. You can’t take him too. I won’t let you.
How insistent powerless voices are.
Same could be applied to the shell of a man next to me.
Following the whims of something you don’t believe in… how are those morals, vampire?
Are you worth the effort? Your head lays upon my shoulder as you scratch into your journal. I could give you something to believe in…
Are you worth the effort you never gave me? I would be setting us on different paths. Eternally damned.
Before the Club.
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Days of the Week: Pseudonyms for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of. She is Sunday, and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson, though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Woolongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
9.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
The old nightclub hadn’t changed in the few weeks since I’d last been there, and yet I stepped in I looked on the shabby black-painted walls and sagging lighting strips with fresh eyes. In the first week of my unlife, I had been newly turned and still thought of it as my next great adventure. I’d stood in the audience and watched Brendan work the floor, swapping cheeky double entendres, sweeping them all into song with the swish of a skirt. Brendan, still dressed as Divine, admired my new purple suit (ruined at the ghoul fight and now long gone) and asked who the new sugar daddy was. I admitted to having a new job, a new name, and taking on a new role in which great things were expected.
Oh boy, was I naive.
My first stop was at the bar for a carafe of good red and two glasses. As I made my way through the crowds, I cut my finger and allowed a little of my blood to roll down the neck of the carafe. My movement through the crowd mixed the two. The place was crowded. The poster outside had said, ‘LAST DAYS’ and old and new fans now flocked to Miss Divine Intervention’s final few shows at the old venue.
I was remembered by a waiter from the old days who gestured me to a small reserved table just to the side of the stage. What would normally be a poor view of the entertainment became centre stage as I once more watched Miss Divine stroll through the crowd, the Queen and their devoted subjects. I turned on Auspex and enjoyed the flow of colours around the room as Miss Divine’s gaze moved from table to table. Waves of deep red desire tipped with sea foam of deep green envy were decorated with sparking points of blue, of love and black of spiteful hatred. The former and latter were old faces in this crowd, and I caught their eye in turn. The former waved back happily, miming mock tears at the loss of their Queen. The latter, two old queens sneered, knowing whose favourite I was.
Miss Divine herself was a cloud of golden light. Performing was a spiritual act, and I basked in the only radiance I could stand these days. Miss Divine gave her all. Pink waves of compassion fell on those who she’d found worthy, spikes of vermillion pleasure for those who joined in her game. And it was a game, the most serious sort of all. The game between the performer and their audience. The performers ensured that, at least at this time, in this place, everything was as it should be. The audience playing along with the lie.
Once or twice, Miss Divine’s golden-tipped eyelashes batted in my direction. She was teasing me, making me wait on her…for her…and that was fine with me. I poured a glass of wine and drank deeply, settling back into my seat and leaving the stress of this new life outside the doors. I, too, knew how to play the game.
Eventually, she stood before me, a smile of pleasure on her painted lips, a hand on her hip telling me they weren’t to be taken lightly. I casually kicked out a chair and poured a second glass of wine. Miss Divine swept her tumble of the iridescent pleated skirt to one side and sat, legs too shapely for mere humans delicately draped to the other.
“Thank you, sweetie. You’ve been missed. You went all cold on me, but here you are…” She lifted the glass to her shimmering lips and sipped delicately as not to disturb the makeup. Eyelids fluttered as she flirted with me outrageously, “What’s the occasion?”
“Ah,” I sighed, taking the moment in, “Living. It’s been a… tough week, but I am finally here.” I was aware that my smile was brittle, not as natural as I’d like.
“What was his name?”
“The Italian?” A flash of Abrogino leaning over me, pulling out my tongue from deep in my chest, tearing it out to force it into Lupara. I laughed to give myself time to clear my thoughts, “You’re better off not knowing that one.”
“You always had a weakness for spaghetti and meatballs,” She teased, and I laughed for real at the verbal jousting, “So, if you’re not here to talk about boys, what are you doing here?”
I tried not to take that personally, but it had been almost two months, and Brendan, if not Miss Divine, deserved an honest answer.
“To see you! I’ve been trying to get away for days. I just need a night out without work connections and problems. Life’s been….too…serious for…weeks, and I think I forgot how to have a good time.”
“I can definitely help you with that,” She smiled, perfect white veneers behind the scarlet lips, “Why don’t you wait here until after the show? I’ll get out of the frock and locks, and we make a night of it.”
“I am all yours!” I exclaimed with relief.
“I’m glad to hear you say that. We can do some poppers and paint the town red.” Vermillion, I thought, seeing the colour make a soft cloud around the coiffured curls of Miss Divine’s blonde wig.
We’ll paint it, Vermillion. The idea of poppers brought the thought of a more physical night than I’d first intended. But, I had said I was all theirs and meant it. Tonight was for mindless revelry.
“It’s a date. Until then, why don’t we make the crowd jealous, you and me, like old times? The Sunshine and the Rain together will make beautiful Rainbows.”
At that, my smile was neither forced nor brittle, “You always knew how to speak my language.”
9.40pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
As the Luna fades, Eclipse rises…
The darkness of the pool was viscose as Eclipse slowly rose and broke the surface, still clutching the femur. Cheers and gasps of relief burst into awareness from above as she looked to see five pale faces staring back at her. She felt like she was coming down with something, maybe the start of a headache? She wasn’t sure. What she was sure of, she was not Luna anymore. She was Eclipse, rising darkly from the pool, the femur dropping out of her hand. She knew who she was because, in the back of her mind, a small voice chirped annoyingly.
Well, this is just great! Is this really what you wanted? Said Luna.
What we deserve, Eclipse replied as the small crowd of Baali gathered around her in congratulations.
We could have ruled this city! I was bright! I was the moon! Now look at you, a mere shadow of me.
One of the Baali offered her a black robe and Eclipse glanced around to see all five wearing identical robes.
Oh look. They think you’re one of them now.
“Welcome back! You were down there a while, we were worried…that is to say…sometimes initiates don’t make it. But you’ve more than justified our faith in you. It’s time for a few…esoteric introductions.” Said the stair guy as the others formed in a circle, “I’m Tuesday. This is Monday,” He pointed at a man with floppy blonde hair, “These two are Friday and Saturday,” Two young women closer to Ecipse’s age, who giggled like school girls, “Thursday…is around here somewhere, he’s shy, and we’re still looking for a Wednesday. We’re hoping that you would be our Sunday.”
Sunday. How fitting. The holy day? Special and set apart. Also the last day of the week. Oh, if only they knew.
Quiet!
“Sounds good to me, better than Fat Wednesday.”
“Perfect. The names do serve a purpose. Part of the reason we’re here. Each day of the week requires a… supplicant…and a sacrifice. We all have our day to do it. Your day will be Sunday. Don’t worry, we’ll show you how it’s done. There are still a few days until Sunday. Then you’ll bring your person and lay them on the altar.”
The circle broke and revealed a large single piece of iridescent opal. What light there was in the room entered one part of the block and exited as a stream of colours like flickering flames. The colours reminded her of the iridescent scales on the snake from her vision.
“Yes, I know it’s a bit poetic, but it stops us from enjoying the process, “ He explained and Ecipse guessed some might get off on the idea of the ritual. A feeling of being holy and special, like Abram and his son, Isac.
Izac.
“So, bring a person in, worship something, kill them on the altar…” Eclipse said as if reading a to-do list.
“Oh, no killing. Their death is a result of their soul being spent. It’s the soul that is needed for all this to work.” Tuesday explained, “But you seem pretty okay with all this.” “I’ll make do,” Eclipse replied as if ritual sacrifice was no big deal “I’ll figure out the cracks, learn and adapt.”
Tuesday looked at her oddly, “Odd turn of phrase. This task is more about filling in the cracks, making sure they don’t get through.” “Ah, but to fix it, you must first know what is broken,” Eclipse responded, and Tuesday had to agree.
“Too right. Maybe your fresh eyes are just what this fraternity was missing.”
“Who are usually the sacrifices?” Eclipse asked, changing the subject.
“Each one of us picks our choice of sacrifice. We all have our ways of finding them. Most are just prostitutes, vulnerable and easy to lure anywhere. Stray kids? Those who won’t be noticed if they go missing. Others find those whose death would serve a greater purpose. But we all bring somebody.”
Tuesday gestured to the man with the long, floppy hair, talking to the giggling girls, “Monday has a little experiment he’s been working on for five hundred years or so. He’s been raising ghouls…have you heard of revenants?”
Eclipse shook her head.
“Naturally occurring ghouls, “ He replied with distaste,, “He raises them like livestock. Something he picked up on a trip to Eastern Europe. What do you think you’ll pick? What will be your motif?”
“My motif is yet to be decided. Every kill should be a good kill. They all serve the same purpose, right?”
“Too right. If you’re interested, we can do one now while you’re here. You can watch and see if you see any cracks in the ritual. That is if you’re not too squeamish.”
This wasn’t a dare, a question probing to see how ready she was. He seemed genuinely concerned about easing her path.
“Hmm, we live and learn,” She replied casually.
“Alrighty then,” Tuesday started gathering the group for the ritual before returning to Eclipse’s side. “You don’t always have to be here for the ritual, but this is your first. Would you like a place close to the front or behind the group?”
“Behind,” She replied as the group formed around the altar. Some giggled with nervous energy, others were solemn, invested in the seriousness of what they were about to do. There were a few prayers, and Friday attempted a chant before Tuesday elbowed them for being silly.
The coloured fire from the altar glowed and shifted under the candlelight. More than ever, Eclipse saw snakes slithering and writhing in the darkness of the rock. A man Eclipse had noticed before now entered the circle solemnly dragging a chain. Behind him, a woman, young and once pretty, now naked and covered in bites, followed, barely conscious enough to stay on her feet. Her head bowed, dark straggly hair hanging lank, she looked like she’d already given up and was resigned to her fate. As she passed Eclipse, her dark eyes looked up, large in her gaunt face. Eclipse imaged she recognised a pleading, a look from one who had no power to someone who, at least to them, could save them. In a flash, she saw the dog, Boofhead, the moment after Izac had stabbed it with the broom handle. Its head turned to hers, and its large brown eyes held the same pleading look before fading away to death.
Thursday yanked on the chain. The girl was pulled forward, and her eyes dragged away. The moment was gone. Eclipse remained silent. Just as she had in the forest.
The girl started crying as they lifted her reverently up onto the altar and laid her out. Though it was clear the vampires had used her, there was no sign of abuse. Thursday and indeed all the others had gone to pains to make sure this young woman did not die…too early.
The days of the week closed in the circle. Where Wednesday and Sunday would stand were gaps. Eclipse moved to stand behind the ring, behind her future position in the circle. From insideThursday’s robes, a black dagger was revealed. Blue and red iridescent fire flashed from inside its crystalline surface and Eclipse realised it was a near-footlong dagger made of pure black opal. With the dagger raised high, Thursday’s other hand hovered down the girl’s torso until he’d found the place just under her ribcage. In a flash, the dagger plunged up to the hilt in the girl’s flesh. The girl’s screams tore through the ears of those listening, echoing through the stone-clad room. She arched, and Eclipse could clearly see the dagger, running the girl through and entering the altar stone below. What she couldn’t see was any sign of blood, not on the altar under her, not from the girl herself.
The girl’s screams now became strangled as the skin around the dagger dried and mummied. Once started, the drying effect quickly took hold until the girls strangled cry became nothing but a silent scream, an exhalation and then…nothing. In half a minute a living being was turned into a husk, a mummy that eventually collapsed to dust. Thursday removed the dagger and where the blade had contacted the altar’s polished surface, nothing. No mark or scratch. She looked at the blade. It too was spotless.
“Do you think you’ll want one of your own, or do you mind sharing?” Tuesday said, noting her interest in the dagger. He took the dagger from Thursday to give her a better look. The full dagger was black opal, blade and tang with a cross guard of the same black stone. The colours shimmered down the black without fault of blemish.
“I can have my own?” She asked in surprise. In her short life, she’d never seen something so beautiful.
“You can, but..” Tuesday trailed off as if he now considered her unworthy or possibly unable.
“But…”
“It’s special…they don’t just come to anyone…and you do have to go out and find your own. They’re found at a place called Lightning Ridge, about a ten-hour drive northwest. Would you be willing to make the pilgrimage?”
Luna thought, trying to remember what she knew about out the west, what most Australians called “The Bush”. Nothing. She could quote the known lines of Pharoah’s back to Narmer, but her map of Australia might as well stopped at the Blue Mountains. To her, Lightning Ridge sounded like something out of a science fiction story.
“You have to find your piece. It will call to you…sing, to you.” Tuesday continued to wax lyrical, ignoring Eclipse’s frustrated expression.
“A weekly sacrifice by you. And that’s it. To keep things going.” “Well, if it’s what must be done.” Eclipse mouthed the words she knew he wanted to hear.
“Exactly. I’m glad we picked you.” Tuesday was pleased with himself at how well Luna’s conversion had gone, “And now we go on with our unlives. Speaking of which, is there anything you were planning to do with the rest of tonight? We usually go out for a few drinks afterwards, but I understand if you want to keep up your old profile. You know, keep up appearance?”
Eclipse smiled, “I’m sure appearances can wait for one night. I’d like to get to know some new, old faces.”
“Alright. Well, you tell us. Where do you want to go?”
“You’re all older than me. I’m sure you know more places than me.” “Yes, but…I’m not sure you’re ready for that. Have you heard of Hoodoo?” “No,” Eclipse admitted, but it did sound familiar.
“Voodoo, maybe?”
“A crude idea, but yes. To an extent.”
“We have a taste for things more primal. Snake dancing and fire dancing…we’ve actually built quite a tolerance to fire. We just like to cut loose, but we don’t want to embarrass you with our archaic practices.”
“That’s understandable,” Eclipse said.
“And we want to get to know you and your world. Your practices and sensibilities.”
“Well, where I usually go is not available…”
“You mean the Crow bar? We could go there. We’ll go in plain clothes,” He gestured to the robes and Friday and Saturday ran off squealing, “We’ve been there plenty of times. In the V.I.P. room and the safety room.”
“Oh? A familiar place to you?” She joked, trying to be edgy and fit in with this group that had been committing daily human sacrifices for centuries. No one laughed.
“O-kay, well, how about we all go to the Crow Bar, and you can tell me all about this black opal,” Eclipse suggested, and Tuesday was back on board.
“Yeah, sounds good. Anyway, we won’t be going in the black robes. Over the years we’ve collected quite the wardrobe. Take your pick, have fun,” He led Eclipse over to racks of clothes covering decades of fashion. Snake motif kept catching her eye as the fashion flew past on the racks. In the end she settled for a goth-styled witch dress with long skirt with a torn hem. The asymmetrical darkness of it all somehow seemed appropriate.
As a group, the Days of the Week dressed for a night out and left their subterranean den. This time they wouldn’t take the black van, but something less creepy, a 1970s stationwagon with wood panelling down the sides.
Sure, this can work, Eclipse said to herself as she thought about what she was going to do Sunday, I’ll just get a Giovanni to unplug a keg. No problem.
9.40pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
An impromptu trip out to the farm was all well and fine, but Dominic couldn’t help but admit, as he parked the car, that it was good to be back home. Carrying his jar in the crook of one arm, he took the steps up to the common room of the Crow Bar and found Bruce working on the floor.
“Bruce, what’s being going on?” He asked noting the bar was full as usual, but there was an uncommon tension amongst the staff as they tried to fill orders.
Bruce rolled his eyes, “Delith’s gone bunked off with Stallion and Izac somewhere. I heard Rain’s met up with some of his before-time types?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a way of continuing the conversation.
“Yes, I believe he’s going to ghoul another one tonight, you’d think the boy would learn,” Dominic replied.
“Lucky them. Some of our regulars have met up with Luna. They seem to be having a night on the town as well.”
“Regulars?” With Luna the Library? “Who are they?”
“Your types, quiet thought. Hang out in the VIP area,. Pay their bills. Is there a problem?”
Was there? It was probably good that the girl got out from under the shadows of Rain and Izac and learned who she was. Still, Dominic didn’t like not knowing who these ‘regulars’ were.
“No. How’s business?”
“Good. Buys are buying. Your nephew is doing pretty well. He just needs to learn that you don’t need to make a big noise. You move, everything moves with you.”
“He’ll learn,” Dominic agreed with a perfunctory nod, “Okay, I’ll be up in my office if you need me.”
Dominic took the jar upstairs and placed it on his desk and he went through the paperwork of his international interests. As he sat there, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He looked around. It all seemed in place. Then he thought of the small hideaway in the desk in the desk itself. Flipping the switch deftly, he reached under and pulled out the desiccated head of his mother. She looked fine, maybe a few stray hairs out of place, nothing more. So, someone had found her, huh? He looked down lovingly at his mother who’s balding head he’d been absentmindedly stroking. He lifted her to head height and kissed her gently where her lips had long ago rotted away.
“There, there mother, I know. You wouldn’t have to put up with this sort of behaviour in the old country. It looked like I’ve been too lenient with them. As you were always fond of saying, ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child’, hm?” He placed the head back in her hiding spot and reset the desk.
Yes, someone was going to pay for this.
9.40pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
“Are you finished yet, Stallion?” Izac looked up from writing in his notebook at Stallion and Delith hanging off the side of the old mill’s wall.
“We’ve barely started,” Complained Stallion, holding onto the one hundred year old brick work with one hand as he climbed to the place he wanted to place his tag. Really, why had Izac come if all he was going to do is sit back and watch?
Izac stepped back further from the illicit art going on before him and determinedly looked after the motorbike they’d all ridden out on.
“Yeah, come on,” Delith added as she stretched across a half-metre gap from the railing on the motorway to the wall, “This is why we came out, isn’t it?”
Izac stopped writing. Why had he come out? He was afraid that Stallion was being left out of the coterie, their discussion and intrigues. That was mostly on Rain and Luna who didn’t seem to think Stallion was trustworthy. But if that were true, why had he said Delith could come along? She wasn’t in the coterie. He did feel responsible for Stallion, at least a little. He’d made a mess with the dog and wanted to make up for it. But as Stallion remembered nothing from that time, did it really matter? Certainly, Stallion seemed interested in doing things together. But really…tagging? Roughing up people?
So, why was he out here with Luna still sulking at home?
Luna.
He checked his phone again. Nothing. It wasn’t like her. No matter how moody or upset, she always reply with some snide comment, something to tell him she was still alive and still talking to him.
Nothing. He’d looked again.
“Izac stop writing and get up here!” Delith crowed as she started putting paint to the wall, “Or are you chicken?”
Something inside Izac flared up. Me? Chicken?! Then his calmer nature reasserted itself with a sigh, Just great! Another hang-up to deal with. Reluctantly, he had to admit to have come out to tag and he should at least make a token effort. He glanced at his phone once more before putting it and his notebook back in their respective pockets and walked over to the railing.
Stallion jumped down from the wall, landing like a predator in front Izac.
“Which colour do you want?” He asked, offering up the limited selection.
“Any,” Izac said resignedly and grabbed a can. Stallion looked up at his creation.
From a distance, it looked something like a dollar sign, an ‘S’ with a line running from top to bottom. As you continued to look, the line resolved into a number of lines that looked more like clawmarks through a broken ‘S’ or infinity sign. Stallion looked pretty pleased and started on a second tag. Izac sprayed a crescent moon, disliked it almost instantly as it dripped down the wall, and threw the can back to Delith.
“See, you’re not a pussy. You did good,” She said adding the colour to her abstract creation further along the wall. It was clear she was only humouring him, especially after a few minutes she revealed her own multi-hued creation.
Izac had had enough. He was leaving to find a taxi and head back to the Leichhardt, hopefully Luna was just ensconced in her chair in the library and hadn’t seen the messages, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling…
“Look, I’m heading back. I’ll see you guys later, okay,” He said, waving the other two goodbye. Stallion was oblivious, but Delith jumped down from her place on the wall to stop him.
“Are you ready to go? Not having fun? We can go somewhere else, somewhere better?” She said before tilting her head back as if listening to something behind her. Soon Izac could hear it too, a police siren.
“See, time to go anyway. Come on, Stallion. We’ll go to a nice pub and find someone who won’t be missed.”
“What? No…” Izac bawked.
“Sure, we could order you something,” Stallion said, packing away the last of his supplies, “Maybe you can think of something to help loosen him up?”
“Sure!” Delith thought, “Izac can ride between us to the pub. He can be the creamy centre of our Oreo.” She tried getting close to Izac, but instinctually, he stepped away.
“You go ahead.”
“Come on, please…” She pleaded.
“No…I’m done. See ya.” And without turning around, he walked down the off-ramp of the motorway.
What had once been the turn of the 19th-century heavy industry was now a residential zone, and Izac was surprised to find a light rail station. No taxi, but if he rode the light rail for a few stops, he could arrange a taxi to pick him up. As he held his Opal card on the reader, his hands showed red and green. They were covered in dry spray paint. Guiltily, he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket and hid amongst the others making their way home.
And now it was just Stallion and Delith riding through the night to a pub she knew of in Glebe. The bike moved better now without the lump of Izac on the back, and they had a good time weaving through the back streets. Stallion liked Delith, okay. Like, she was more fun than Izac, at least, even if she could be a bit of a bossy bitch. If he didn’t find anyone that suited him, maybe he’d eat her. He, out of the whole group, knew the sweet taste of diablerie, and she said herself that her sire didn’t take an interest in her. Well, he’d see how the night went.
10.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Eclipse wasn’t sure how the night was going when she stepped through the doors to the Crow bar. Behind her the Days of the week followed like lost ducklings, looking around as if nothing seemed to make much sense to them. Before her, an empty common, at least empty of her coterie, her supposed friends. She headed downstairs to the VIP lounge, and the Days of the Week followed mutely.
Her phone buzzed another message from Izac. She replied to it and shoved the phone back in her pocket. He’s on his way. Well good for him. What good is he now?
He’s worth more than ten of you, the new Luna voice replied.
“Shall we get drinks?” Tuesday asked, almost like asking permission…no,more like asking if this was how she’d do it.
“Sure,” she said, glad to see Delith missing from her space behind the bar. They all ordered and took seats together.
It was eerie. They sat there watching her as she watched the crowds in the lounge. Though all the Days of the Week didn’t look more than ten years her seniors, there were decades, maybe generations, separating her and them. They didn’t know how to behave, what to say or even what drinks to order. When Tuesday had said they wanted to see her world, they weren’t kidding. She sighed and drank her drink, realising she was having a night out with her aunts and uncles.
10.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Dominic, spirit jar and large black tome gently held in the crook of his arm, knocked on his aunty’s door. The door creaked open under the light pressure, and he stepped in. In the lounge, Lucretia lay stretched out on a chez lounge in an empty room. After Rain redecorated the room, it always had a white minimalist look, but under his ownership, it was airy, light, and inviting, with colourful artwork breaking up the starkness of the bare floorboards and the white walls. Now, there was nothing but the lounge and Lucretia. It was clean…almost sterile, and lifeless. Like, all the soul had been stripped out of the room. Dominic, unphased, entered, preceded by the jar.
“Good evening, Aunty. I have a gift for you. My first solo effort.”
“So,” She said, examining the spirit trapped within, “How many times did it take until you got this one?”
“This was my first attempt. The second time I fumbled,” Dominic admitted, he was here to learn, and you never learnt anything by ignoring your mistakes.
“Hmm, summoned the wrong thing?” She asked, making an educated guess.
He nodded, “A spectre.”
An arch eyebrow rose in surprise, “Still, you must have sorted it out, or you wouldn’t be here.”
There was no point in saying he’s had a little help. Rain wasn’t here to complain, and there was no harm in her thinking he’d managed alone.
She placed the jar to one side of the lounge and returned her hands to her lap, “What do you want?”
“Would you like it as a gift?” Dominic asked, placing the promised book beside it.
“ I could use it. You’d let me have it?” She asked with not exactly suspicion, more disbelief.
“Well, you let me go into the afterlife without supervision. Most wouldn’t do that.”
“Ah, but you have more than a little luck, nephew. You’ve done better than most of your generation.”
“Warbonds. An industry in weapons of mass destruction,” He listed modestly, “And I still learning. I’m thinking of expanding my studies down the Ash path.”
“Hmm, so, care to join me for a stroll downstairs?” She stood in one sinuous movement that brought her closer to her nephew than was generally considered familial.
“I’d love to,” He said and followed her to the basement.
10.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Izac phone buzzed. It was Luna. A rush of relief swept through him as he quickly sent off a reply.
She’s alive and safe. But it felt it had been close. Too close. He felt as if he’d dodged a bullet tonight and was damned sure that it wouldn’t happen again.
He got off at Jubilee Park and called a cab to take him back to the Crow bar and her.
Yes, he’d learnt his lesson. In horror movies, you make sure never to leave anyone behind.
10.00pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Another carafe of red, a Glenfiddich special, as well as the aforementioned popper, I was loose and without care. In my carefree state, I did happen to reveal my predilection for a little blood with my drugs to Brendan.
“You’ve picked up a few new habits then?” He asked, curious, not judgemental.
“Ah, yeah, “ Snapping back almost to sobriety. I clung to my inebriation and slowly slipped back under the surface again.
“You were a little feisty earlier. What brought this about?”
I could have said I was in a drought, Brendan would have understood that. Say I would have settled for a good bear hug, a spooning session or a little heavy petting. Anything! No, that wasn’t true. Only the blood mattered now. Only vitae made me feel alive, only the beating of a living pulse in my mouth…but how could I say that? Instead, I tried to get close to the other things that filled my nights.
“I…don’t think I’ve had…fun in…weeks! Months! I was trying so hard to fit in, so hard to be right that I lost sight of what makes life worth living.” Brendan sighed a genuine human sigh, “Ah, it’s like looking at me twenty-three years ago. A scared little teenage boy after his first adult experience. Trying to make sense of it all. Plunged into the wider world of adults that seemed scary and inviting all at the same time.”
I loved Brendan at that moment.
“And now here we are, the two of us on the brink of cutting loose with friends, and a good one at that. Say, what’s in the drink?” He looked at his latest glass of red, “It’s really nice.”
I tried not to think about what was in it and drank my own in agreement.
“So, what are you here to talk about?”
What was I here for again? Ghoul my best friend in the world. Check! Get away from Izac’s judgemental silence, and Luna’s sullen distrust, and Dominic’s, creeping darkness and Stallion’s…chaos…self-destruction? Just for one night. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.
“Well, for one thing, nine days until your big reveal. Your is going to change.”
“Yeah, it’s unreal.”
“Exactly…exactly, and I knew there wasn’t a lot of time left,” Don’t get maudlin, we’re here to have fun, “I just wanted to touch base.”
Brendan rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry. If you want to have a shot at me before I become big, you don’t have to be sly about it.”
I smiled, revelling in the banter, “What before your all famous? Hey, I expect to have a shot at you after you’re famous!”
“Ah, but you’ll be able to say that you were in before everyone else gets a piece.”
“So, I knew you before the fame and the hype, huh?” I leaned in. The table was so supportive and stared into Brendan’s eyes.
“Yep. I’ll be a media darling.” Brendan’s eyes grew glassy, looking at futures I couldn’t see, “I’ll be everywhere. RuPaul will eat his heart out, and I’ll make him look like a bum. They’ll be talking about me! Worshipping, adoring. My stilettos walking on bare backs…it will be beautiful. The majesty of it. Can you see it, Rain?”
My elbow slipped out from under my resting head, and I tried to make sense of his harsh words. He didn’t mean that. He admired RuPaul. Frankly who didn’t?
“I see you,” I said with all the frankness and honesty I had in me, “I see you. I want to see a world full of your colour. “
“What an idea. I”ll have to spend a couple of days working with the crew on that. All the colours.”
Now we were back in sync again, “All the colours.”
“I can feel them after a wash. You know, after a good bath house? After the steam, walking out light-headed….”
“A bathhouse. We should go to a bathhouse, “ I fumbled with my phone. Surely there was a late-night spa or Turkish baths or…
“There are a few around…” Brendan replied, more reticent on the idea than I was, “We could find a small place maybe…get a room…just the two of us…I didn’t realise how far you wanted to take this tonight. You’ve seen my show. Are intending to give me one of your own? My goodness, won’t you even buy a lady a meal?”
Food. Oh god, I hadn’t thought about that. After the experiment with the steak on the first night, I was loathed to even attempt one of Izac’s vegetarian meals.
“Are you hungry? We haven’t mentioned food. For my part, I’m not hungry. Frankly, I’m just excited to be out and breathing fresh air …”
“See that’s what I thought when I was twenty-one and finally accepted who I really was. It’s a great feeling, isn’t it.”
Brendan’s words cut to the heart of things once again, “Yeah, I think something like that happened only…this week.”
“Well, don’t worry we’re going to have a few happenings tonight with the poppers and the bathhouse. We can get as raw and dirty as you like, and afterwards, the cleansing steam and water will make us shine.”
“Bring it on!” I cheered, rolling back into my seat again.
“Calm yourself, ladies and gentlemen…we have a long night ahead of us.”
“Ah yes, we need the tease…before the prestige!” I flourished, magicing my silver dollar to appear.
10.30pm 7 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
The dirt bike carrying Stallion and Delith rolled up to The Kauri Foreshore Hotel. Stallion looked around nervously.
“Just park it somewhere. Nothing’s going to happen to it here,” Duluth said, reading his mood.
“It doesn’t have the plates on. I’m worried someone’s gonna steal it.” He said his middle-class concerns showing.
“Glebe is not the Glebe of old. It’s elegant and refined – sensible. Your bike will be safe.”
“Yeah, okay,” Stallion grumbled and found a place behind a skip that he felt relatively good about.
“Okay, so we’ll go inside and find someone,” Delith suggested, taking Stallion’s arm and leading him side the pub.
“What, you want to share?”
“No, silly. I have…particular tastes. Look, you’ll see, “She smiled, “Just you go find someone you like, and I’ll find someone like and we’ll meet up?”
Stallion shrugged. He was willing to play along with this game for a little while, but if he didn’t find someone, then he knew where he was getting a feed from tonight.
The femur slipped from her grasp. The thunk it made against the ground was the crash of bone and slap of dry skin.
She drank every last drop of salvation.
Drank
It
Dry
She fought the need to take a voluntary breath. The buzzing behind her eyes spikes painful as she registers the vampiric normalcy of the pit she stands in.
You could have some fucking decorum.
Ah. That voice never shuts up, does she?
This is just great!
Eclipse caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of spattered blood.
Tarnished and filthy. Now look at you, a shadow.
Her boots leech up vitae and kick up loose body parts. This hole of despair does not bother her as she climbs up to its lip.
You are always just an afterthought of me.
No, Luna. It was something you could never understand.
You weren’t running away from yourself.
You were running from me.
Eclipse felt the weight of a robe grace her shoulders. A familiarity burned deep from her bones. Originating from her locked away memories.
Religion is all the same. It is simply easier to call the different “barbaric” and the old “pagan” or “archaic” to usher in something new. Something more “refined”, more “acceptable”.
The days of the week stood in an incomplete circle. The last day. The day of God. The day of holiness is her new name.
Good. They prophesied their own fate. To name is to give power.
Sunday is another name to her collection.
Supplicant. It is an old name made new to her once more.
They are all the same. Strings pulled beyond all of their perceptions. All ultimately out of their control.
Have they seen what we have seen?
They fight knowing even with eternity, they may still fail because all of the world is doomed. They must accept the inevitable. The eclipse is where the plains align. She will have to show them.
You’ll fail.
Thursday’s sacrifice was interesting. The whole ordeal intrigued her. The way medicine once did. The choices, pathways, active sites collided to make the impossible probable. A black opal dagger would be a rite of passage. A pilgrimage to show her resolution.
This incomplete week interests her. They are interested in her. New and exciting to each other but how long will this facade last until her three worlds collide?
Eclipse checked her phone while heading to the Crowbar.
‘New Message: Izac’.
Leave him out of this.
We are all doomed.
Not him. You can’t hurt him. I won’t let you.
Eclipse sighed as another spike of pain bashed against the back of her temple.
Destroy the world. Destroy me. Take everything but you can’t have him. You have to leave him alone.
I was doubtful of that, even as we passed through the door of the pub. Alex was first to make it to the bar, almost racing to be the first in ever expanding mass of people crowding for a drink. Australia Day, always busy, but a day off was a day off and we certainly weren’t going to complain. Others were meant to join us that day, but trouble would find us first.
The glaring eyes of the probably already drunk group of patrons out the front had already had my hackles up. Given my choice, thinking back, we wouldn’t have made it through those doors if the others hadn’t dragged me through them by their combined mass. Something about them; they way they looked down on us, like they were better. Their fancy getups reeked of North shore. In experience, Campbeltown was not the place for dress shirts and expensive watches.
Cameron pushed me and the crowd gave way to a table which we decided to make our home for the afternoon, or at least until we weren’t welcome. It was good, a time with friends. A better time.
A normal life.
Day turned to night; the fireworks came out. I remember seeing Mads and Alex together, they couldn’t have been happier holding each other like that. I think, at that point, they were meant to be. Cameron, ever the man to annihilate a beautiful moment, crashed into them but they took it in stride.
They were happy.
A commotion near the bar pulled me out of my drunken haze. Joel, screaming about something. The newfound adrenaline kicked my flight or fight. Back then, there was only one answer for me. I charged through the encircled mass of onlookers to find Joel in some sort of argument with, to my joy, the well-dressed group of weasels from earlier. He had spilled a drink, adding a nice stain of colour to the pristine white dress shirt. I wanted to add some colour of my own. I don’t recall thinking; I threw myself into the shit and everything was flash images and instinct from then till I was outside the front of the pub.
The once blue sky now black, starless was all I was looking at.
Joel was there too, the others either ejected or left of their own volition. Looking back inside there I could see at least two of the others clutching noses or ribs. We gave as good as we got at least. What stung were the eyes. The eyes of the patrons at my state, the disapproval.
Madaline’s hurt the most. Last I recall was a question answered by someone on the balcony watching down:
“Just the regulars”
It’s happening again, isn’t it?
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Days of the Week: Pseudonymns for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of. She is Sunday and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Woolongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
6.50pm 12 hours until Sunrise. 1 hour and 15 minutes until the visitation
9 days until The Succubus Club
Stallion’s eyes snapped open. Something had awoken him. Out in the warehouse, he could hear…shuffling…grunting and then finally silence. Unlocking his toilet stall, Stallion crept across and opened the door to the warehouse. Sunset was still some time away and in the light of day, the dilapidated nature of the warehouse was clear to see. Beams of light from cracks and holes in the roof lit up the interior of the warehouse floor. It might as well have been a maze of razor blades as beams of sunlight. Then he could smell him. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, the stench of ill-kempt, unwashed, old man, sickly sweet rot and premature decay. In another life, Stallion would have recoiled at the stench and ignored the light beams. Now, the light beams were deadly, and the smell of a meal was on the air.
Gritting his teeth, Stallion quietly left the toilets and started carefully across the warehouse. It was painstaking. Consciencely judging the angle of each beam, he coiled and twisted his way across the cracked concrete floor. Like some slow post-modern dance, Stallion slid under, around and past cross beams, whole sheets of light and tiny pin-prinks barely seen. If any one of those beams, if they’d touched, could have sent into a panic and his death. But, by the time he made it to the shelving where the homeless man was sleeping, Stallion had found a new confidence in dealing with sunlight. Never again would his fear of sunlight grip him quite so badly. He had danced with the sunlight and won.
The old man’s hidey-hole was a pathetic thing. A few possessions stack around him like a tiny fort against the cold, the world and Stallion. Stallion considered that if he hadn’t been looking, he may have mistaken the collection for a pile of boxes. Kneeling, Stallion silently slid his hand under the old man’s neck (so thin!) and one-handed snapped it like a twig. Just like that. Less than a twig, the old man had been so frail. Frankly, he’d done him a service, taking him quick and painless. He looked down at his handiwork, pleased. He hadn’t even broken the skin.
“I’ll save that for later,” He said to himself, getting up and looking back the way he’d come. The gauntlet still remained. If he was to store his newfound meal, he would have to take it back through the murderous laser show.
Rolling the dead body over, he noted the man wore an oversized coat. His home without a home. It gave Stallion a thought. Hoisting the body up over his head, he strode confidently through the beams of innocent light, wearing the dead man as a coat. Feeling pretty smart, he shoved the body into an empty toilet cubicle and returned to his well-deserved slumber.
7.00pm 12 hours until Sunrise. 1 hour and 5 minutes until the visitation
9 days until The Succubus Club
Izac and Luna moved around the apartment in almost silence the way they’d entered the previous morning. It was a state that even the often obtuse Izac couldn’t help notice.
“So, what plans do you have this evening?” He asked, finally breaking the silence.
“Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?” Luna ignored his question, her arms tightly crossed in front of her.
“In regard to what?” Izac answered, oblivious.
“The boys’ night out.”
Izac sighed. The interview with his sire was not something he wished to share, but this was Luna, he had to tell her something.
“Uh…direction…purpose, I guess.”
“You got what you wanted then?” Luna’s arms tightened in front of her.
“Yes and no. Answers anyway.”
“Answers, “The word was heavy in her mouth, “Found any?” The question sounded loaded, full of more meaning than the three words would suggest.
“In a way,” He rubbed his hands through his hair, his head full of details – sharing none.
“You don’t sound so convinced.”
“No, but what other choice do I have,” Izac turned and grabbed his keys, not seeing the look of frustration on Luna’s face. “Look, I’m going to call in on Mother and see if she needs any help. Do you want to come?”
When it was clear he would share nothing about his thoughts or fears, the choices that seemed to plague him with her, Luna also turned away from the conversation, slumping into the soft upholstery of the lounge.
“Knowing how her kind thinks of me, no thanks.”
“Fair enough. If I need any help, I’ll give you a call,” He said and left her alone, brooding, in an apartment she had no key for.
7.00pm 12 hours until Sunrise. 1 hour and 5 minutes until the visitation
9 days until The Succubus Club
Maybe it has something to do with country air, or maybe knowing I was safe underground while in that fragile death state of slumber, but I awoke more refreshed than I’d ever felt in all my lives. I marvelled at sleeping without the nightmares and waking without leaping out of bed as if it were on fire.
On the bedside table, Lupara lay just where I’d left her. My hand stroked the smooth woodgrain as if it were a pet. She’d shown her worth the night before. She wasn’t made for stopping-power or even elegance of operation. She’d did give the enemy …trouble…a moment’s pause in which to think. That’s all I needed. I contemplated refilling the spent barrel. Though I could have filled the chamber with a normal cartridge and saved the blood, I knew it would work just like a standard shotgun round. More stopping power but less…distinctive.
And I liked the idea of being distinctive.
I dressed, lamenting once more the lack of clothes that dealt with the dirty work better, and made my way upstairs. I could hear Dominic moving about in the kitchen down the hall. As I’d only seen the kitchen and hallway the previous night, I took the chance to explore the rest of the house. Most rooms were as their last human owners had left them. A few pieces of wrought iron or heavy wooden furniture, sturdy and long-lasting but of no real interest. A few crosses on the wall mark this place under God’s care in a purely Catholic sense, but nothing overly grotesque or Spanish baroque. Tasteful torture of a young man with big ideas. The usual.
That was until I entered what had once been the master bedroom. The old farm furniture had been removed, and a sort of workshop-come-gallery laid out. Here and there, standing on the floor or on benches, were displayed pieces made of…pieces . Curtains made of tattooed skin rustled quietly in the small breezes around the dried wood of the window frame. On a brass stand, a human ribcage was fixed with an old incandescent light where the heart would be. Another was a lampshade made from the skin of someone’s face. If turned on, the light would have shined through the rolled-up eyelids, nostrils and gaping mouth of a silent scream. A chair made of human bones sprouted wings of multiple scapulas showed that more than one individual had gone into its making.
Behind the door, butchers’ hooks hung on a sturdy metal frame. Behind, the wall bore patterns of bloody streaks. I noted in fascinated horror that the staining didn’t seem as heavy as I’d thought it should, then realised that the…raw materials of this art were exsanguinated long before ending up here.
“Rain, would you like a snack?” Dominic’s voice echoed around the house, disturbing the air in the ‘art gallery’ and making me jump.
I suddenly realised I was hungry. Only slightly disturbed I still could be after viewing this gallery, I quickly left the room of horrors to find the sustenance on offer.
Dominic was standing next to the ancient refrigerator, holding out a bag of blood.
“Oh, yes, thanks,” I took the offered snack, “When do you expect to start heading back?”
“I’m ready to go when you are,” He replied as the tools of his grisly rites went away in their draws, ready for next time.
“Just one thing…”
I stood before the tree. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. It looked exactly the same as it did the night before. I guess….I’d hoped…now, with a decent food supply, it would be bigger. At least it looked healthy.
“An odd place to leave a tree,” Dominic said from the car. I saw him place the jar in the back seat where I’d strapped the tree the night before.
“What? A tree? Surely less odd than in a basement, which had been my initial plan.”
“Hmm, “ He shrugged and climbed into the driver’s seat. I could only imagine his view of the countryside was more skewed than most and followed him into the car.
7.30pm 11 hours until Sunrise. 45 minutes until the visitation
9 days until The Succubus Club
“Hey, we’re doing great! How are you? Who dis?” Said the voice at The King’s Arms cheerily.
“It’s…Izac, I…” “Hey Goodboy! Thanks for the helping hand…with the meeting and that…”
“Meeting?” What was this about a meeting? Izac had just wanted to make sure that Mother was in and free to see him.
“Yeah..you know…the one you warned us about…I don’t have to spell it out do I…”
“You mean, Pyrmont?” “I was trying to talk in code, man. What can I help you with?”
“Mother around?”
“She’s ‘round here somewhere. You wanna see her?”
“I’ll be there soon.”
7.30pm 11 hours until Sunrise. 35 minutes until the visitation
9 days until The Succubus Club
As we left the unsealed tracks for the state roads and highways once more, I mentally ticked off the tasks I’d still have to do. Pyrmont was gone, and no longer my concern, but I did have a visit to the Prince to explain what had happened. The tree was planted, and though that task was still ongoing, it was a long way from our homes. Hopefully, whoever it and the watch had drawn would have no reason to come sniffing around Leichhardt. I understood the promised new home was acquired by Mr Giovanni, so I was now starting to wonder if some of the paintings from Pyrmont couldn’t be reclaimed. Certainly, they weren’t being appreciated by their current owner.
And then there was Brendan. I couldn’t deny him his chance at stardome, but from what I understood of the Succubus Club, a kine stood no chance of walking out, at least not the same way they walked in. If I ghouled him, then he’d have what little protection it offered. But Brendan deserved the truth, at least as far as I could tell it. It got me thinking about Giuseppe and Bruce.
“Mr Giovanni, could I ask a question about Bruce?”
“Yeah, what do you want to know?”
“When you initially ghoulled him, how did you broach the subject…of this world, our life…without breaking the Masquerade?”
“You find your person, the one who has the skills and personality you need, and you slip a little into their drink one night.”
“So you…just ghoul them…like that.”
“Yes. They come back, you slip a little more. Eventually, they won’t want to leave. Then, you let them in. Bruce was easy. He’s an intelligent man and a bastard. He knew something was up. We had a long chat. He learnt what was expected of him and what he could expect from me. He was all too eager to take up his new life.”
“Right, “ Duplicious but simple, and after the Succubus Club, Brendan needn’t drink again. He could fly away to somewhere warm with plenty of sunshine and never be bothered by vampires again.
“I had figured, with Giuseppe, it was simple, being born into this life. Ghouling would have been an expected career path. But I had wondered about Bruce.”
Dominic shook his head, his eyes glancing in my direction as if wondering how much to say, “You underestimate Giuseppe. Remember, I told you I earned my position, and so did he.”
“Oh,” I had assumed that the embrace was the prize in the family. That Giuseppe had worked hard to become a ghoul hadn’t even figured into my worldview. It gave me a new respect for Giuseppe. I would have to be careful with that one. Slow and steady.
“So not everyone in the family is involved in…’the family’?”
“Some don’t get this far,” He qualified.
“As far as Giuseppe?”
“Some get six-feet down,” Survival of the…whatever the current leadership were looking for at the time, it seemed. Suddenly, Dominic’s whole demeanour shut down. Where he’d been more casual in his driving, there was now nothing more important than the road ahead. He’d talked about the family with an outsider, a family I was realising I knew very little about. I knew all of four…three to go by Ambrogino’s attitude. I knew Dominic was old and self-made. It was obviously a family point of pride to be kin. Many had striven for his heights and failed. I was travelling with the elite of their clan. A humbling thought indeed.
“So, you have hundreds of free spirits following you around?” Dominic asked sometime later. I didn’t know if it was his idea of making small talk or some sort of subtle retribution for making him talk about the family. Regardless, I now knew I owe him a great deal. He’d gone to a lot of trouble and no little discomfort on my behalf. It was only fair he should know the whole tale. Still, sharing that story still left me feeling empty.
“There were hundreds of spirits. I’d had no idea. They’re all gone now, except for Avel, of course.”
“So how did that come about?”
“I am by birth a Bosnak, a minority within Bosnia and other Slavian states. You’d remember the war. I don’t, I was five. I’m not sure how a five-year-old ends up on a death march. That sort of thing happens in wars, I guess. My father died, shielding me from the bullets and covering me from the soldiers’ view. It was those men and boys who followed me, whispered in my dreams and screamed whenever a gun appeared. All those poor lost souls.”
“Hmm, bad business, “ He said after a while but didn’t elaborate. He knew something about the war…the massacres that he wasn’t sharing. Before I could ask, he moved on, “Have you had any thought of keeping your mother around instead of putting her somewhere else.”
The hours in the time-out room weighed heavily on me, “I did nothing but think about her when I was…indisposed. I worried what would happen to her if I died…”
“You were never going to die in the time-out room, that’s the whole point of it.”
“But even before. Those hours after catching the bane, I was preparing myself for death. This is what she wants, and it gives her power to choose her own fate.”
I recognised that to him, I was giving up potential power myself, “I hope with training and time I’ll win over other stray ghosts I see all around and persuade them to be at least friendly.”
He laughed a dry bark, “Ha, persuade, that’s funny.”
I was a little put out by his dismissal, “Persuasion is what I do.”
“Hm, that’s what we all tell ourselves,” Dominic said, and the movie quote, “…make him an offer he can’t refuse…” sprung to mind.
He returned the subject to Avel, “Though, your mother would be better off with you. There are worse places. She could end up in oblivion.”
“It is that fate I’m trying to avoid.”
“And yet, you’re keeping such a good job and keeping yourself alive.”
What? Was he being sarcastic? I took the statement at face value.
“Frankly, that’s due to you. I know I would not have survived the bane alone. You rallied your resources, called in the experts and saved my life. I don’t think I’ve done a great job keeping myself alive.”
“So, the next bar you build, will it be in the basement of your home?” Ah, that old chestnut again. From him, I could take it on the chin.
“In fact, as we have many hours of driving yet to do, maybe we could talk about new bars if your offer still stands, that is.” “Setting up a bar for you, yes, it still stands.” He sounded pleased.
“I know I still have no grasp of our world and its ways, though I do have much to contribute…”
“There’s no need to rush, you’re still a child…”
“I was thinking more apprenticeship, under someone who knows the world and business. Look, I don’t know what plans you have for Giuseppe, but I would think he could manage the bar, and I could help him.” I thought it was a good plan. Put the childe in his place, below the superior Giovanni and do a little business. I was surprised at his response.
“Oh no,” Dominic said definitely, “That is not the path Giuseppe needs to take. He has many challenges, and he needs to step out on his own soon.”
“That’s what I thought.” “Stepping out with you would not be on his own,”
“I wasn’t thinking a partnership. I’d be his employee. The prestige to his business savvy.”
I couldn’t tell if he liked the idea or not. He certainly took his time thinking of his answer.
“As much as I appreciate the offer, it would do him no good if it looked like I was keeping an eye on his business dealings.”
Ah.
“And, as you are associated with me, that is what it would look like.”
“I understand,” Damn it, I did. Where impression was more important than substance. I knew that world well, “I just thought it was a good way for both of us to step out.”
“You could always talk to Bruce. He’d help you set up.” He said, and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Giuseppe was a creepy fucker, but I knew a few of his bottoms and was willing to explore more. Bruce was a blackmailing son of a bitch without a shred of compassion. The only thing keeping him loyal to Dominic was the vitae, and then for how long. Maybe even now, he was preparing his own independent supply. I’d hate to become Bruce’s escape from Giovanni influence.
“Of course I can,” I replied smoothly.
“These days, Bruce handles all my local interests,” He said with a little pride.
“He does seem very busy. That’s why I didn’t think of him at first.”
“I have interests all over the world. He would be the man to see about a new enterprise.”
“So, a new bar. Do you have any idea for locations?”
“Ah, that is for you to decide. The spark, eloquence and design are all up to you. You are a Toreador.”
I smirked, a knowing smile, “I do have a place in mind.”
“See, I knew you had ideas.” “Almost as soon as you first suggested it.”
“Of course, this comes with the caveat that you will come to me with any crazy ideas like making a bar in your abode, you come to me first.”
“No, no,” I waved surrender on that point, “ Intend to keep those parts of my life very separate and…mine.” And I was surprised to discover I meant it. I was tired of being vulnerable.
“And no, bring your own victims, either.”
“No BYO. I still don’t really comprehend how they caused the breach in such a short time.”
“It was only part of the problem. As I understand it, your particular vortex of souls weakened the walls of reality wherever you went.”
That was a new thought I hadn’t considered before, “So, you’re saying the ghost that followed me added to the breech?”
“You had what, six, seven hundred souls following you? I don’t believe it was the whole reason it happened, but it did contribute.”
I was continually astounded at how much influence the cloud of souls that once followed me had on my world. It seemed that not just my internal world was better off with them gone, and still, I lamented their passing. I wondered if it was the same for people leaving abusive partners.
“Do you even know how many they brought into your basement?” Dominic continued.
“No.” “You remember that first job we did for the Prince. There were dozens of bodies there, and they didn’t start a breech. Imagine how many they must have brought in to achieve that little feat.”
I hadn’t thought of that. On top of the fact that it seemed the breech itself was a rare occurrence that many were interested in owning.
“I’ll remember that next time I talk to a Nosferatu,” I scowled, more at my own foolishness than their abuse.”
“They did take advantage of your hospitality.”
“And stupidity.”
“So, new ideas, run them by me first.” “That’s what I was hoping we were doing now.”
“Excellent. We’ll draw up the papers with Bruce when we get back.”
Bruce. There was no universe where I wanted to be under the heel of Bruce.
“Ur…we can take our time on the contract. I’m not in a rush anymore, remember?”
“Ah, you’re learning.”
7.30pm 11 hours until Sunrise. 35 minutes until the visitation
9 days until The Succubus Club
Stallion awoke after dark to find a dead man. That he’d placed him there only an hour before was no nevermind. What he’d brought into the stall was a freshly dead corpse, its body still only catching up with the idea of not being alive. What was in the stall now was a bruised black mound of flesh, cold to the touch. It didn’t stop Stallion from rummaging through the dead man’s pockets and finding little more than half a bottle of cheap whiskey. Putting the bottle aside, he searched the body again, this time only determining he had a set of dirty underwear, even dirtier outerwear, a bini and the coat. It was as he removed the bini that he also discovered its residence. Lice. Thousands of them climbed through the old man’s hair, turning his grey locks brown with their bodies.
“Ah! Don’t eat me. If you don’t, I’ll get you more,” Stallion said in his beast speech. Thousands of pairs of black eyes stared up at him. Thousands of tiny voices spoke as one.
“Food…food…food…“
“Not me! I will find you good food…”
“…food…food…food…” They all chanted, but at least for the time being, they seemed content to stay on the old man’s head.
If the idea of vitae-eating lice disturbed Stallion, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grabbed the half bottle of whiskey, took a belt or two to start the day, jumped into his Bronco, and headed to his first stop, Bunnings.
On a quick trip around the store, he’d acquired kerosene but was having trouble with the spray paints. All the colours he’d ever required were behind locked perspex and cyclone fencing wire. He’d forgotten that purchasing spray cans required identification. He had new ID from Mr Giovanni and stood wondering if he wanted his new name linked to the purchase of spray cans. Stallion’s animal cunning finally decided that it was better to be unrecognised and left the cabinet of spray paints for other options. In the gardening section, he found pressure sprayers usually used for insecticides or herbicides. Grabbing one, he walked back to the paint section and found premixed paint for air sprayers.
“Now we’re cooking!” He crowed at his own cleverness. With his three purchases secured, he pulled out his phone and texted Izac.
GOT THE SHIT FOR TONIGHT. READY WHEN YOU ARE. LETS TAG
A moment later, a reply came through.
GOT SOMETHING TO DO. BBS WITHIN HOUR
8.00pm 11 hours until Sunrise. 5 minutes until the visitation
9 days until The Succubus Club
The Kings Arms was a very pack-related place. Rowdy and rough, loud and slightly seedy, Izac figured the King Arms had always been like this. If another group took ownership of the bar, bought new furniture, painted and brought in a new clientele, within a month it would be back to its dark, grungy greatness. Izac never cared for it.
“Hey! It’s the Good boy!” Came calls from around the common room, “Hey, thanks for the warning, Goodboy!”
“Yeah, sorry for the late notice,” Izac responded to the room in general, “Who won?”
“Does it matter?” A snide voice from the room, “Do you care?”
Izac knew he was only tolerated by some of the clan for Mother Pasta’s sake. He waved away the comment.
“As long as you enjoyed yourselves.” “Yeah, it was pretty good,” A friendlier voice replied, and Izac chose to reply to it.
“Good to hear. I’m here to talk to Mother.”
“Why is she checking on you?” Another voice, neither unfriendly nor friendly.
“Nah, he’s the Goodboy. He’s checking up on us!” This created a racous burst of friendly laughter, and Izac relaxed. They may be rowdy, rough, loud and a little seedy, but he preferred dealing with them to the careful word games of the vampires.
He weaved his way through the common room and into a back room where Mother Pasta struggled up from her chair to greet him at the door.
“Hey! It’sa gooda-boy!” She said, giving the lanky Izac a warm embrace. “How ya’ doin’ Mother?” He asked with genuine affection.
“Oh you’a know. Look’a ‘fter da kids, make ‘a spaget’.” She leaned on the kitchen table and lowered herself back into her chair, “Why’a here?”
“Straight to business, huh Mother?”
“You don’t eat ‘a spaget’.”
It was fair enough.
“A job for a job. Do you have anything that needs doing?”
She wagged her head in thought, “You-a hang with-a bad-a crowd. But, ‘ah keep an ear’a out for our ‘ated cousins, ‘da worms. Let’a us know, huh? So, wad da’ wan’?”
“I may need a reasonable excuse to leave the City.” “You ‘a wan’ us ta kid’a’nap you?” She said simply as if it were the most natural idea.
“Not right now. I’ll need to go south.”
“We’a can ‘elp. You let-a us know, when-a you’re ready, okay? Will you stay and pretend to eat spaghet?”
“For you, anything Mamma.”
He sat and listened while she dished out a plate of spaghetti for herself and talked about her life. It was soon clear that Mother, though constantly busy leading the pack, was very lonely and only running out the time until she had left. She talked about her husband, taken suddenly and before his time, and the memory was just as raw now, years later. Izac was sympathetic. He liked the old woman and appreciated the trust and care she’d placed in him. Still, emotions, especially strong ones, were not something he was good at dealing with. Eventually, there were more tears than words, and Izac was left feeling like he had to fill the silence.
“I’m….I can’t imagine…the pain you’re going through….I guess he’s in a better place.” Stiff and unsure, he went to take her hand, but she pulled it back, sniffing and wiping her puffy eyes.
“You-a can stop-a talkin’,” She said unhappily, “You-a can go, t’ank-a you, for ya’ time.”
8.04 pm 10 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
They’re early…
Luna was startled by a knock at the door. She blinked and looked around the dark apartment. How long had she been sitting there stewing in her own thoughts? The polite knock rapped again at the door and a thrill of fear chilled her.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
No one knew she was there and Izac had his keys. She stood and walked to the door, realising too late that there was no peephole. She paused, standing in the doorway, unsure what to do.
What would it hurt to open the door?
She opened the door a crack and peered out into the hallway. Nothing. An unlit hallway. The sensor lights hadn’t picked up any movement to turn on. Odd. She’d clearly heard the knocking.
Darkness there and nothing more.
Up and down the hallway, she looked, straining to see what was not there.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
She opened the door a little wider and felt something brush past no more than a breeze. She spun around, ready to face whatever, to find the room empty, just as it had been all evening.
’Tis the wind and nothing more!
Suddenly, she didn’t want to be at the apartment alone anymore. Better alone in the library than with whatever was happening here. She stepped through the doorway, slamming the door behind her and started for the stairs at the end of the hall. A heavy feeling of foreboding lay on her chest, and she was once more aware of how unsafe she felt. She hadn’t felt safe in a long time.
Nevermore.
A young man, clean-shaven or possibly too young to grow stubble, climbed the stairs going the other way. He wore a jacket but no shirt, and a large tattoo of an upside-down spiked ankh, was clearly visible on his pale chest. He smiled, and Luna nodded politely, moving past him on her way down.
“Hey, Luna! You’re Luna, right?” She heard the young man call. She leapt, putting her back against the solid wall.
“Excuse you?”
“I thought it was you. We’ve been trying to get your attention for a while…when you’re alone…the others wouldn’t understand, ”He said cheerily as if seeing an acquaintance after a long time, “We need to talk.”
“About?” She was scared but also angry. Who the hell was this stalking her, waiting until she was alone?
“You. Your destiny. You’re special, you know that, don’t you?”
“Sorry, I’m not much for preachers.” She took another step down, not taking her eyes off the strange young man.
‘No, you’ve got us wrong. I’m not selling a religion with easy absolution. This is hard work for you to come to terms with who you are. Satisfaction is what we offer.”
“Satisfaction,” She liked how the word felt in her mouth. Satisfaction, being satisfied. Nothing had ever given her satisfaction. Why would this guy and his friends be any different?
“Yeah, haven’t you ever wanted to feel satisfied?” “Is anyone?”
“Many, just ask the Prince.” And he said it, not sarcastically, but with a friendly roll of the eyes, a conspiratory wink at the high and mighty.
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s satisfied.”
“See, you understand.” And he took a few steps towards her. She didn’t move.
“And what is the cost of this…satisfaction?”
“Well, we can talk about that. Will you listen?”
“At what cost?”
“Nothing more than you’re willing to give.” He said confidently, giving the ring of truth to his words. Still, she hung back, silent, ready to bolt.
“My more persuasive friends went upstairs ahead of me. You must of missed them. Did you see them at all?”
“Upstairs, “ She felt her arm where something had brushed her, “In my apartment?”
“Your apartment?” He queried, now unsure of his information, “The apartment.”
“No, I didn’t see them,” It wasn’t a lie.
“No, see. I’ll send them a message and we’ll pick somewhere better, with more privacy. Do you mind?”
This was it. She could turn away now, run for the Crowbar, it was just across the road. She could be safe…but where had that got her? And maybe, just maybe, this could be what she had been looking for in all those dusty books.
“No.”
“Perfect,” He smiled and took the last few steps towards her, “Now, don’t scream.”
“Wha…” She started to say the three friends from the apartment ran down the stairs and grabbed her. Bodily, they picked her up and carried her down the rest of the stairs to a waiting black van just parked outside.
I’ve done this before, Luna thought calmly. She almost knew what to expect. She didn’t scream.
The sliding door slammed shut, and the van drove away. She was placed in a seat, left unbound, not blindfolded.
“Very good, “ Said one of the three friends, “You show promise. Now, we’re going to drive for a little while to a more secluded spot and have a chat. We don’t normally act this openly. We’re a secret group. We’re taking a real chance with you, but we feel you’re worth it. People tell you you have a spark, a fire in you. We think it’s more than that. You have real potential, but it lacks…direction. We’re reaching out to you to give you that direction. Is that something you think you’d listen to?”
“I’m not one for dogma,” Luna stared back, serene and imperious, “And I’m hoping you can provide a more persuasive argument than the wish-wash I’ve been hearing.”
“Of course. We’re not offering empty promises and salvation. You’ll get what you put in. Now, we’re at the point of no return. You have no names. You can chalk this up to an interesting experience and never see us again. So I ask you. Are you willing to hear us out?”
Again. The chance to get away, to flee and be done with these people and their beliefs. It would be easy. Say, no, and it will be a long walk home, but the craziness will end. Then again, where was home? What was crazier listening to these people who had done nothing but show her respect or go back to living the half-life she’d been living. Besides, when had she ever felt special?
“Sounds good to me.”
8.30 pm 9 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
WHERE ARE YOU? Izac texted Luna and Stallion as he returned to the Crow bar. She didn’t reply. He scanned the common room of the bar. None of the familiar faces were there except for Delith, chatting with clients at the bar.
“Hey, Delith,” He called, distractedly putting away his phone, “Have you seen any of the coterie?”
“Well, that’s really narrowing down the list of suspects,” She joked back, “Anyone specifically?”
“Stallion?”
“No, I haven’t seen him,” She now turned and focused her attention on him, “But what are you up to Sweetcakes?”
“Just trying to find Stallion in this place, “ He replied, exasperated, “He’s going to show me his world.”
Delith’s eyes lit up, “Ooh, can I come?”
“Aren’t you working?”
“I’ll chuck a sickie,” She shrugged as if a vampire having a sick day didn’t sound like the start of a joke.
Izac shrugged uncomfortably, “Let’s go find Stallion.”
“Yay!” She squealed and followed him downstairs.
Stallion was in the garage mixing paint when Izac appeared, followed by Delith.
“Hey, I never knew this was all down here. It’s nice,” She cooed, running a hand over the black sedan parked near the stairs.
“You’ve never been down here? But you work for Mr Giovanni,” Izac said incredulously.
“I’m not chummy with him like you guys are. That’s why I always ask for favours,” She now spotted Stallion at the workbench across the dark garage, “Hey, there he is, there’s our friend.” “Do you mind if we have some company?” Izac seemed to apologise as he walked into the workbench spotlight.
“Well, I was going to take the bike, “Stallion gestured to his dirt bike, now unloaded from the Bronco, its registration plates missing. It looked like it could take two in a pinch. Three seemed ridiculous, “Unless you don’t mind going as a threesome?”
“Yeah, I can do a handstand,” Delith smiled, showing that she could indeed do a handstand. Izac rolled his eyes.
“Okay, yes, come on. Get on the bike.”
“Do you want to change out of your clothes,” Stallion suggested, “There are going to be cameras.”
Delith shrugged, looking down at her tight, a-line black work skirt and white uniform shirt, “I’m fine, you’re looking tight,” She winked at Stallion.
“I already look homeless,” Izac smoothed out the crinkles in his shirt, which he had borrowed from Mr Giovanni for a visit to the Prince and never returned.
“Yeah, whatever then. First rule: never shit in your own backyard. Do you have a place in mind?”
“Words to live by,” Izac, not for the first time, wondered if this was a good idea, “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere at least three suburbs over,” Stallion pulled out his phone before Delith put up her hand.
“I have a place in mind,” She also pulled out her phone, “A bit historical, but also a bit of an up you to the rich and snobby. We tag it and everyone will know…everyone that matters, right?”
She show them a building just off the ANZAC bridge and the Western distributor. Its old red brick facade had been gutted and filled with expensive apartments. A sign of the new gentrification of Sydney.
“It used to be a warehouse but it burnt down ages ago, before my time. Then it was a rave, which was great fun. Eventually, some rich bastard turned it into apartments. But don’t worry about that, look at the exposure. If you can tag that, people all over Sydney will see it. What do you think? Are you guys good for that?”
“As long as the Police don’t catch on, “ Stallion said, pouring the mixed paint into this pressure sprayer.
“Augh, we’re too fast for them,” Delith boasted, egging Stallion on.
“Especially with me at the handlebars,” And Stallion joined in.
“Hey, yeah! Stallion the bad-boy. Not like you,” She teased Izac, “You’re a goody-two-shoes, aren’t you Izac.”
“And maybe…” With a cheeky grin, Stallion leaned in and whispered into Delith’s ear. “Oh! There’s been plenty of victims there, no worries.”
“What?!” Izac was only half listening. He still hadn’t heard from Luna. At the word ‘victims’, his attention snapped back to the two in the garage.
“We could go for a house or something,” Stallion ignored him.
“Well, lets see,” And Delith and Stallion stood head over her phone looking for potential homes to hit.
“I’m sorry?!
“Sounds like a plan then,” Stallion nodded and climbed onto his bike, the pressure sprayer slotted onto a pin behind the front wheel.
“You in Izac?” Delith climbed on behind Stallion, a sparkle in her eye, “Come on, I know you want to. Come on!”
“I’m still a little hung up on the word ‘victim’,” Izac stood back, uncomfortable with the turn of events.
“Come on, don’t worry about that,” Delith chided.
“No, I will.”
“I figured you wanted a place with a bit of history. I don’t think he’s actually going to bite anyone, besides, you’re our steak chewer, right?”
Izac sighed. If he went then maybe, he could persuade them not to attack anyone.
“Okay, lets go!” He gave in and climbed up behind Delith.
9.30 pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
WHERE YOU AT? I’M COMING BY. I texted Brendan as Dominic drove along Parramatta Road.
WORKING DARLING WHERE ELSE?
It was now or never. I’d steeled myself up to ghouling Brendan tonight. I had a multipronged approach. Spike a bottle of red so we can both drink and prepare a sample to slip into a random drink he orders.
I ask Dominic to drop me off in Redfern, which he graciously obliged. Tonight, I was going to save my friend from death or something worse, and nothing was going to get in my way.
9.30 pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
The van pulled up outside an isolated building surrounded by heavy shrubs. Torches lit the path leading to the door as the group of five led Luna inside. An unloved and dilapidated interior led to a set of stairs heading down, deep underground, to a chamber of polished concrete. In the centre of the room a long table slowly filled as Luna and her abductors arrived. She was offered a seat. She looked around the group of only five others, determined to find out who the leader of this pack was. As one sat at the head of the table, and she thought she found her target, they quickly gave up their seat to another who wished to continue their conversation with third already seated. They all seemed about the same level, no sires, no childe, no Princes, no subjects. Just a group of like minded people, coming together on a common cause.
She took the offered seat.
“Thank you, “ Said the young man from the stairs, “We had thought this would be more difficult. People often have reservations about these sorts of things.” He turned to the table and waited for conversations to hush before continuing.
“We are part of a secret organisation of vampires trying to prevent the end of the world.”
“Aren’t we all?” Luna mumbled and the another vampire across the table replied.
“No. Very clearly no. But we’d like to invite you in because you’ve had dealings with some of the…beings we’d like to keep…docile.” They were choosing their words carefully, and Luna was aware of every pause and syllable.
“Now it’s not easy. Trying to keep the status quo…keeping things balanced. There’s a lot of work and we welcome any like minded people to help.”
“Help out in what ways?” “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
“Religiously or moralistically?”
“Yes.”
“The first night I killed someone.”
“Perfect. Well be asking you to do that many times, for the right reasons, of course.”
She sat calmly in her chair, letting the words filter in without given any outward sign they’d had an impact. Inside, she was rocked. Who were these people that decided who should live and who should die? Instead of leaping from her chair and yelling at the arrogant fools as they deserved, instead she turned to the last speaker, “What do you consider the right reasons?”
“Leaving those stronger than us sleep.”
This was imagery Luna was used to. The ancient antediluvian rising up to destroy their wicked children and the end of the world.
“Gehenna,” She added, and the group as one laughed sadly and shook their heads.
“No. We’ll referring to the real end.” “The end of everything.” “The world as a dead void.” Voices took their turns adding their imagery to the mix.
“An interesting outlook,” She said uncommittedly.
“It’s not an outlook but a fact, an inevitability that will occur if we don’t do what we can to stop it.”
Not the Gehenna, but a more universal end of the world. And they think they can stop it? If it were true, then she could understand their passionate. Was there anyway of proving that it was true?
“I believe understand now.”
“And this is why we wish to invite you in. Knowledge and consent are essential to what we do. We do not want to propagate the failure of our race.”
Yes. Knowledge and consent. This was what she had been looking for. She did not want to be the tool of others more powerful. With knowledge, she wanted to make her own path, build her own future.
“I understand.”
“Would you consent to joining us. It is forever, but it won’t take up all your time.”
“I feel you haven’t told me enough to be educated in making a decision.” She felt their sincerity, their best intentions for her and for the world. They were like a reverse apocalypse cult. If they kept working behind the scenes, the world would keep spinning. She felt the power of their belief, which was strong enough to make it fact. Maybe to even make it true.
“You believe in changing irreversible catastrophes.”
“Precisely. We keep the dreamers dreaming. By what we do, we keep things sedated.”
The sleepers. These weren’t the antediluvian. These sleepers made those embraced before the biblical flood look like newborns. Lovecraft knew them. The Elder things, older than time. Creatures from beyond existence. In some ways, the watch’s resident was one of them too. Things better left quiet, sleeping and locked away.
“Say I accept. What next?” She asked and silently, the individuals in the group looked at each other very pleased.
“You will join up, taking your turn to keep the dreamers dreaming. We are the Baali and for you to be one of us you will need to cease to be Brujah. It will not be easy or pleasant, but at the end, you will not be alone.”
A vision. A purpose. And never having to try to make sense of it alone. She knew there was a lot they hadn’t told her yet, but she had time. She knew Izac had been through something similar when he became a Child of Seth. He’d had to be drained of the old and given the new. If Izac could do it, how could she ever face him again shunning even the attempt.
“I didn’t come this far to be a quitter.” She finally said and the table burst into applause. Congratulations were given freely and for a moment she was the centre of a whirlwind of activity. She was ushered from her seat to the far end of the room where a dark pool lay. The water was deep red, and within the pool body parts and organs floated, rising and falling with the movement of the liquid. It was a grizzly sight, but she took it stoicly.
“The process is simple. It will just like when you were originally embraced. You will be drained of blood until you are near death. Then you will need to find our blood in the pool and drink. Once you’ve claimed the blood, you will be able to take your place among us and then the real work begins.”
A hand reached into the pool and pulled out a left leg. Another cut open their wrist and let the vitae drain into it. When they determined it was sufficient, they threw the limb into the pool and it disappeared under the dark waves. As this was happening, athe group coalesced around her. One took her right leg, another her left. Same for her arms. A fifth took her head in their hands. She was lifted up into a five-pointed star. On some unspoken command they all bit, draining her from each of her limbs and neck. Her extremities became numb, something deep inside her fought for its life, thrashing in her veins, behind her eyes. Gasping in pain and then just gasping, she felt that vital part of herself slip away. Now, barely conscious, she was taken to the pool and gently allowed to slip under the surface.
She had only moments of consciousness left. She knew she had to find that leg.She breathed in and used her senses to find the life-giving vitae in a pool of blood. A swirl of colour, of warmth and life, stirred nearby, so close. She reached out, but the eddy diluted and slipped away and she moaned in at its loss. She drew upon her strength and ploughed through the pool, looking for the leg. Soon, her strength was spent, and the limb was no closer. Lastly, she slithered through the bobbing limbs and organs like a snake, searching for a smell, a taste, a hint of the vitae she needed. Her vision started greying and then blackened. A sound like white noise filled her head, and yet she struggled on, desperate to find the leg and drink.
A vision of a throne on a mountain of bones and skulls flashed into her mind.
There is another option, Something seemed to say.
She strained to lift her arms to kick her legs, but the strength was gone, she was dying.
Die here or…reach out to me… The voice said as Luna’s head sunk beneath the blood and out of sight of the onlookers, Be a noble martyr and die with dignity or….be mine and work within them and against them. Reach out to me and be mine…forever.
One last spark driven by fear drove her muscles. Luna reached out her hand and grasped an old femur, the meat all but slothed off the bone. She brought the putrid thing to her lips and drank and drank. The spark, her tiny light went dark. It flickered and burned coldly, sparking anew in the corpse that was Luna, starting at her heart and moving through her torso, out through her limbs and into her head.
The eye snapped open. The fire that had been Luna was gone forever. The fire that now burned that propelled the body to the surface of the pond to the cries and cheers of those waiting was not her any longer. She reclaimed her birth name.
She was no longer Luna but Eclipse.
Child of fire.
Half known but not seen.
The age may no longer be dark, but you’ve not darkened yet.
Scholarly.
Brujah of modern, but not of old.
9.40pm 8 hours until sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. Copyright Credit: Public domain. First published by Wiley and Putnam, 1845, in The Raven and Other Poems by Edgar Allan Poe. Access: 6.11.2024 https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48860/the-raven
The shut blinds leave no way for anything, not even moonlight, to shine through.
The room is cold.
Luna and Izac do not talk. The night is still.
Luna is cold.
A soft smile breaks her vision away from staring at the wall.
“Ready to-“
“How did the meeting go?” How long has she been sitting on that question? Did she want an answer?
“I have direction. A better idea of purpose,” even though Izac spoke of ideology his voice held no conviction. It was acceptance, reservation, compliance.
“Is that what you wanted?” Don’t lie. Not now. Just reach out your hand.
“Yes?” His brows knitted together, “no?” His bottom lip caught between his teeth, “answers? I guess.”
“Did you find any?” Circles.
“In a way,” his face returned to its soft neutrality.
“You don’t sound convinced.” The truth. Simply a glimpse. Something to grasp onto. Something greater than your hand-
“No, I’m not,” it’s the most honest thing he’s said all night. “But what other choice do I have?”
“Yours.” She understands, in the end, it’s the blind leading the blind. He wants to save her but he won’t try to pull her back. What’s the use of a savour with a loose grasp?
Izac is quick to wrap his arms around his front, “I’m gonna see mother. Did you want to join me?”
He’s risking the connection he has with the wolves for her once more.
Save me.
“I know how mother and her kine feel about me. I was lucky to get away once.” Ask once more. Push for what you want.
“I’ll call you if I need any aid.”
The look they shared spoke volumes. Izac is not strong enough to pull her from the ledge. He wants her to make that move.
She isn’t strong enough.
He’ll leave her there.
Will anyone save me?
Tonight will prove how weak the strength of an olive branch is.
…
“You. You’re important. It’s your destiny.”
Luna’s heard preachers all her life. They recite their verses, lay down their meaning, and expect nothing more than your sins. Your shortcomings. Your oath.
“Willing to indulge us?”
She never asks for his name. The nights blend together with or without alcohol.
What are you when you have nothing to fight for?
Luna is not a good enough reason. A footnote in everyone else’s story.
She should simply keep walking. Go back to the safety of the Crow Bar. Strange things lurk when the veil is thinned. The words leave her mouth before she can stop them.
“At what cost?”
Everything. Nothing.
Yourself. The worthless.
Where is he? Out of reach.
“Luna,” she almost didn’t respond to her own name, “let us go somewhere more private. If you don’t mind?”
Yes I do. You know better. It’s a second location-
“No?”
The smirk that crossed his face would have had the old her seeing flashing red lights.
“Don’t scream.”
She should scream. Luna should thrash against the unknown arms that manhandle her. Bite, rip, tear, at the fabric suffocating her none existent breaths.
But she wants to believe them more than she wants to fight them.
Was it this or the sunrise?
She had all of eternity. She had no time at all.
“Very good. You show promise.”
Someone save me.
I’m making all the wrong decisions.
I’m too far gone.
How far close is the cliff’s edge?
She was a goner the second she entered this place. These people are not looking to hunt her, they are looking to consume her. Assimilate her. She’ll leave here dead or changed but at this point what is the difference?
At this point, does the question of consent matter?
Shackling her to their beliefs. She’s interacted with beings existent before time but they are fighting a losing battle. Yet, all six of them sit at this circled table with a level of understanding only the truly doomed can comprehend, can share.
‘I can see things and you can see things but we don’t see each other.’
“We could continue to observe. Keeping the dreamers dreaming. We have to keep the forces in balance. We can save everyone. All you have to do is the imitation.”
Die here or die becoming something else. Someone more.
She agreed to this.
Maybe
deep down
Luna wanted to die in that pit.
But when fire burns, it burns hot.
She can see her salvation but it is just out of reach.
Her eyelids crawl close as her blood fills unseen cracks in this concrete pit.
“Izac…”
Where are you? I need you. Why won’t you reach out your hand? Could you grab mine?
I feel so weak…
“I lost my way…”
This place is not dark. It is beyond anything comprehensible.
It makes the afterlife a frail and weak concept.
Is she looking at the back of her eyes? Is she staring out into the universe?
“No Eclipse,” a snake eye full of unimaginable colours appears.
She can see it. The end of this world. The broken dream.
There she sits, surrounded by shimmering scales, atop a throne of bodies.
“You Are Exactly Where You’re Supposed To Be.”
Her arm suddenly flinches forward in this pit of debauchery. Her fingers grasp a loose femur.
I don’t die with dignity.
I have no fire. It is black and burns cold. A fire that burns with no light. There is no one to extinguish me.
There is pain in being. That is what you are. What you will be.
You’ve taken your birthright.
You Are Eclipse.
I found myself in the unimaginable and came back.
The Rainbow Serpent saw my weakness, my strength, and brought me back.
A third death is truly a rebirth. We are all doomed.
The silence was deafening. Since yesterday Luna hasn’t been herself. Though taking solace in her books,she has been keeping to herself more than usual. She seems lost. The path offered I feel, deep down, is not hers. I don’t know if its mine either. Redemption has its limits, even for the truly penitent.
Distracting myself with the task given to me, I had a choice: Embroil myself with kin or reach outward to friendlier faces amongst mother’s pack. I chose the later.
A poor one
I could vouch for her like last time, give her a distraction from the turbulence in her mind. I asked for her company; she said no. I understood the hesitation, but something was wrong. A tension in the room as I reached for the door. She asked about my meeting. I didn’t know what to say.
The truth?
I did, she asked, and I honestly answered. I couldn’t tell if she was unimpressed with them or if she was still dealing with her own thoughts. What should I have done: Told her the explicit details? She is capable, strong, but not against him. If I were to tell everything, I would be giving her life up to a battle she wouldn’t even realise she was in. Knowledge can kill. It wouldn’t be fair. I should’ve reached out, took her hand and brought her with me. At very least I should have closed the door and asked her to tell me what was going on in there. The taxi feels colder than ever, and I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.
Mother is lonely, her heart is aching at the loss of her husband, recently passed. I tried to be comforting but it seems a lack of heart has had an effect on my approach. It was fair she asked me to leave. Her pack will comfort her I hope; they seem in good spirit to contrast their matriarch.
This feeling hasn’t left me. Something is wrong. Messages sent and not answered concerns me, she always answers. We are out in front of some building now, Stallion and I had made an agreement to hit the town tonight, and to neglect the already distanced member of the coterie I feel may push him even further. Delith has joined us, the knot of concern wouldn’t abate and the request for her to join us was novel enough to distract me for a time.
You abandoned her
No. She is probably up in the library right now, going through some more of those books. A place to calm her personal storm.
The rooftop observers
What do they want with them? Rain is out with Giovanni and Luna is well protected in Giovanni’s library.
You should’ve held on tighter
And what? Rob her of choice too, like Stallion? I can’t be the forceful hand. I refuse to be.
Hypocrite
What do you know about this? You are nothing but an echo in the mind, a call to a baser urge. You should stay buried where you belong.
What is love but a base urge?
I need to get back, find her. Once we are back at the bar, I’ll tell her. Be open about it all, show that I don’t have any secrets to hide. If she isn’t there? Where are you?
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel and entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Woolongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
9.50 pm 11 hours until Sunrise. 10 days until the Succubus Club
As Dominic and I raced across night Sydney, out past its borders, into the lands over the mountains, the rest of the coterie were left wondering what to do next. Stallion seemed happy enough to drink himself into a stupor on Delith’s concoctions. Izac was mulling over the interview with his sire, his mood growing darker and darker the more he thought it over. Luna returned to the library, sure the answers to everything she wanted to know were there if only she found the right book, and read the right passage.
“Hey there, good looking,” Delith called as he mooched past the bar, “Haven’t seen you around much.” “Hmmm,” He noticed her and remembered that Luna had a grudge against one for some reason, “Ah, Delith, right?”
“Hey, you knew my name. I must be getting a reputation around here, right? Don’t forget to tell the boss.” “Nothing but the best,” He admitted grudgingly, “I will. I tend to travel quite a bit in his circles.”
“So, what can I get you?” She gestured to the array of bottles, herbs, spices, and glassware arrayed around her. A modern-day alchemist.
“I want a steak, please,” Now distracted, physical needs were reasserting themselves and the thought of a good bloody steak sprung to mind.
“Coming right up, “Delith said cheerily, “Ah, do you want me to blend it up, you know, so it doesn’t look so weird?”
Why had he never thought of doing that before? Instead of sucking the meat dry in a corner, he could sit with others and enjoy a drink. But it had never been about enjoyment, not really. It was sustenance. It was neither pleasurable nor onerous, just essential.
“Yeah, I appreciate it,” He said, taking a stool at the bar while she collected her ingredients. If anyone walked past as the lumps of prime steak were fed into the blender, no one commented or even raised an eyebrow. Those behind the bar were in the know, at least a little. And the customers…well, they did what all humans did: if it was none of their business, they ignored it. The image of cattle sprung to mind, and Izac had to consciously remind himself that they were people, not cattle.
He looked away from the oblivious crowd around him to find Delith looking at him curiously.
“What?”
“You. You’re so mysterious. No one knows anything about you,” She said, handing over his steak in a highball full of crushed ice, a wide boba straw, and a bright green sprig of celery completed the look of a Bloody Mary, “Hey, make sure the boss knows what a good job I’m doing.”
“Thanks, “ He said, with a nod of admiration, “So, what would you like to know about me?”
“Anything. Who are you? What do you want? Where did you come from? Why has the Prince taken such an interest in you? And why are you still walking around?”
“Well, I’m Izac. I’m a Sydney boy, born and bred…and both… yeah, I’m local. Yourself?”
Delith thought a moment, “Local? Sure, yeah, I’ve been around long enough to be called a local. Still, I feel I landed on my feet with this job. It’s a wonderful place.”
She looked out over the common room from behind the bar as if she were the proud owner, not just an employee.
“It’s a hideaway for all of us, right,” Izac agreed, sipping his drink. It was good, and unlike Stallion’s, it was unspiked with whatever kept him high tonight.
“Oh, it’s more than that. It’s a place to feed, a place of revelry of merriment.”
“Away from prying eyes.”
“Ah, that’s downstairs…but you already know all about that, don’t you.” She teased, as one in the know. She was testing him, trying to draw out what he knew. Sometimes it was good not to have words to say.
“Hmmm,” He agreed, “I guess you see a slew of people come through here.” “Sure do. I’m always keeping my eye open for who’s important, who is worth eating, and who I shouldn’t eat.” “Heard anything interesting recently?” Izac asked, ignoring the implications of her words.
“No, just from you. You’ve given more information in one conversation than anyone has given me.” “People ask about me alot, it seems?”
“Sure, you’re interesting.”
At that, the clever words that were always hard to find turned to smoke and disappeared from Izac’s brain. So much for having a pleasant conversation.
“Hey, it’s alright being tongue-tied around a beauty like me, “Delith noticed his silence and smiled, a predatory glint in her eye “But there’s plenty of questions about you. No one knew where you were from. Why does the Prince take such a close interest in you while not keeping you close. Normally his favourites are kept in a tight little box.”
“Well, if you hear anything particularly interesting, please let me know. And, of course, I’ll let the boss know about your good work.” He held up his drink as an example.
“Well, a little while ago, there was a big swarm of werewolves around,” She thought, “And I know there’s this big get-together coming up called the Succubus Club. Have you heard of it?” Izac schooled his face into a mildly interested expression as his nerves jolted at the name. “I’ve heard the name, don’t know anything about it, though.”
“Come on,” She smiled teasingly, “What have you really heard about it?”
“Something like a big meet up…the boss has mentioned it once or twice.”
“Ooh, what’d he say? “
“Maybe that’s something you could ask him yourself,” Izac suggested, finished with the conversation and tried to leave, his steak smoothie in hand.
“I haven’t seen the boss around. Do you know where he is?”
“He had concerns about one of his cars,” Izac supplied vaguely.
‘Oh yeah, the one you left all smashed.” That hadn’t taken long to get around. Thanks to Bruce, no doubt.
“Guilty as charged,” He grumbled, “Well, I guess he’s gone out to repair it…to see about it being repaired.” Why were words so hard?
“Okay, well, I’ll keep an ear open for whispers and let you know.”She finally said, graciously finding the end to the conversation that Izac was unable to.
Izac loped off to the table where Stallion was once more staked out, his latest drink in hand.
“I thought I left you downstairs with Luna. Where is she?”
“She said something about studying a book,” Stallion said from inside his glass. “That’s about right,” Izac looked up at the ceiling to the approximate location of the library, “Hey, did you think it was strange Rain going off like that.” “Meh! We live our own unlives. I find it best not to ask too many questions, especially in public.”
“Yeah, they’re probably questions best asked in private.”
Upstairs, private and alone, Luna was trying to make connections. Frustratingly, nothing she had read so far was helping her make sense of the convoluted relationship vampires had with each other. She knew now that Izac was of the Children of Set clan who thought themselves distinctly different from the rest of kin society. They held themselves to be descendants of Set and not Caine. They had a religion based on the winding down of all things.
She knew the Jihad was a belief that ancient and powerful vampires, the oldest of the antediluvian no more than four steps away from Caine himself, pulled the strings on their progeny through their subtle and unknown ways. It all sounded like hocus pocus nonsense; undoubtedly, many vampires felt that.
The whole Camarilla held to the belief that there were no shadowy elders controlling their lives. They were about keeping the status quo. Living quiet, decadent lives worthy of creatures that live forever. In fact, they’d kill to keep the rules and the Masquerade was all important for maintaining their ability to live their lives. In that respect, the Prince was very much a Camarilla ruler.
The Sabat believed they were superior beings, with Caine, their father, as their example. They believed Caine when he said they should be in charge of everything, not hidden under a human society. Humans are just food and should be treated as such. There is no need or point in having relationships with future meals. Why upset yourself?
She knew that the Anarch movement was old. A breakaway from the Camarilla’s hierarchy and rules. But she didn’t understand what was first, the Anarch or the Sabat? They seemed to be somehow linked, but she wasn’t making the connections.
Her eyes scanned over her notes again, looking for some new angle to come at these things. Her eyes alighted on Agaricus, one of the founders of the original Sydney Masquerade, who was ousted by Sarrasine and now lived in Hobart. At one time, they had been part of a community of kin and kine living together in harmony. What had they believed in? What had they thought was important? There had to be a better way than either parasites or xenophobic dictators.
She crushed the palms of her hands against her closed eyes and tried to massage away the frustration of it all. What was she doing? Vampires usually spend thirty years or more trying to work out their place in kin society. Here she was, trying to do a crash course in Vampire history, lore and culture in a few weeks of life. She was just a baby for crying out loud!
A murdering baby…big enough to murder you’re big enough to make a stand.
Luna took a deep breath, pulled another book off the shelf and continued to read.
I took a deep breath and tried not to think of the four near-bodies we were driving to the farm as one shifted in the back uncomfortably and groaned.
“We may need to stay overnight,” the sounds reminded Dominic as well, “There’s a few things I have to do while I’m there, some of it to do with our passengers in the back.”
“I don’t mind helping where I can,” I volunteered, not at all sure I did mind or could help.
“You can observe, but I doubt there is much you can do to help.” “It’s just the…tree…it needs feeding. Once you’ve done what you need to…I’ll have the hole ready.”
You have to remember, up until this point, I had been feeding the tree with my own vitae. Luna could have also fed the tree, she was asked to help, but this would be the first time I’d fed it…anyone else. I was not sure I had the stomach for what was to come, and I was very aware I had not come dressed for…the messy business. Still, Dominic was a Mafioso, and if I knew anything of their breed, they didn’t appreciate even the whiff of weakness about their associates. Cool and professional and ready to do whatever it took.
God help me.
Maybe more to the point. Devil, help me.
“Oh no, they’re not for the tree, though I may have something you can give the tree. No, these four are for something else.”
“Very well, “ I replied, partly concerned the tree wouldn’t get what it needed, partly grateful I would not have to…deal with our passengers, “I won’t get in your way. It’s your business.”
“If you do decide to watch, you will not mention what you see, or hear to anyone. Is that understood?”
A little severe, but who was I to argue, “As I say, very well.”
“There is a list of Vampires who have gone against my family. They are killed on sight. If you breathe a word of what goes on up there, the family may feel the need to add you to it.”
So, this was family business. No wonder he was anxious. “I don’t think I’d last long on a list like that,” I admitted. Having been on a similar kine mafia list in the past, I knew how far their hand could stretch.
“No. So, observe, but don’t mention.” He softened his tone, “I’d hate to put so much effort into you only to have it destroyed.”
“I would also hate to see all your efforts keeping me alive go to waste,” I agreed with a smile.
We travelled through the darkness. Now in a lighter mood, I filled the time with tales of my own scrapes with the Mafia from Soho to New York and my across-country flight that would have ended in New Orleans if not for an argument on a Greyhound bus and a walk in the evening rain.
It didn’t surprise me nearly as much as it should have when Dominic knew some of the principle players of that time.
“Louis Astra and his lot. They think they’re in control, but we are the ones who pull the strings. We only ever intervene unless they had the potential to interfere with the real business.” Dominic said casually as if talking about local shopkeepers from Victoria Road, not multimillion-dollar businesses that influenced judges, priests and politicians.
“In my previous existence, I believe I may well have brushed up against one, at least a trusted ghoul. In hindsight, I can see the invisible strings that held those businesses afloat.”
“You know Al Capone is still out there,” Dominic dropped that bombshell with a small, knowing smile.
“That’s…” I tried to consider that. Of course, it was possible. Fake his death and now works behind the scenes as the master businessman. But, still… “…really?”
“Yeah, he’s still operating in Chicago. The childe of the great Prince Lodin himself.” I didn’t know that name but just tucked it away as significant.
Dominic continued, “A Ventrue, can you believe? After all that, he turned out to be a Ventrue.”
Thinking over the man’s human career, I would have thought he was born to play the part of a Ventrue in his second life. Business, murder and an insatiable ego.
“It shows you. Even for the greats, you must look after pennies and let the pounds care for themselves. I guess bookkeeping is not a prerequisite to being a Ventrue.”
“He did like to cook the books, though he isn’t one for keeping them.”
“Vampires being behind the mafia explains a lot about the rules of secrecy and culture of family loyalty I saw during my time with them. It’s probably why I never got very far after I ran.”
12.50 am 8 hours until Sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
The multi-lane highway over the mountains gave way to single-lane state roads and asphalt strips leading into the heart of farming territory beyond the mountains. Here, the land was flat and even in the darkness, I realised we were in big sky country. I’m a city boy, and once more, I felt anxious about being exposed.
The asphalt finally gave way to a well-graded dirt track surrounded by ploughed and planted fields. Eventually, Dominic slowed the car at a collection of small buildings each side of the dirt track and pulled up between two silver-roofed sheds the size of barns.
“Feel free to look around and see where you’d like to set up your tree. I’ll be inside, “ He gestured to the farmhouse, a stereotypical settler design with the broad wrap-around verandahs that always made the houses look low and generous. I never appreciated how much the low-slung roof kept the sun from the windows and walls of the house until that moment. Such a sensible design.
“I need a few things from the kitchen.”
I didn’t ask what he needed from a kitchen for a necromantic ritual. I was sure I’d find out what kitchen supplies were required when Dominic showed me what he had in mind for our passengers.
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
I stepped out of the car, breathed in unconsciously, and became aware of the smell of green, the medicinal scent of eucalyptus from the nearby state forest, the heavy smell of the earth and…other country smells. No car fumes, no smell of hot concrete and asphalt underfoot. No even the smell of hundreds of different cuisines being cooked in kitchens, bars, and cafes. I was also aware of the lack of human scent. The lack of my cuisine, if you will. I’d never known a time without it. As rich with life as this place was, it might as well be a desert island for a starving vampire.
Fortunately, I was not a starving vampire, so I quickly unstrapped the car from the back seat and went for a walk around the farm. The farmhouse and outbuildings were all sheltered by various trees, from large gums to a small orchard of overgrown orange trees. The earth was rich and, with the…kegs…constantly supplied with fresh nutrients. Yes, this was precisely the place the tree needed to be. Where better to hide a tree than amongst other trees? I selected an aesthetically pleasing location for the tree, not too far from the farmhouse to make looking after it a chore but also far enough away not to get in the way of activities on the farm.
Gardening tools of various types were found in a shed near what had once been the farm’s vegetable patch. I stripped down to my shirt and rolled up my sleeves in preparation for digging. Lupara, I left in place. It wasn’t just the wide-open countryside that was making me nervous.
Inside the house, I could hear Doiminic rummaging through pots and pans, the slick sound of a knife being drawn along a sharpening rod and the tinkle of glass inside a metal container. Sometime later, his silhouette was visible against the dark blue sky, cutting herbs in the kitchen garden. From the smell on the wind, I could tell rosemary and basil were his choice for tonight. As it was for a ritual, along with lavender and salt, they would create a good aura of protection. I wondered how many old wives remedies had made it into necromantic rituals over the centuries.
Not long after cutting the herbs, Dominic’s shadow left the house by the front door and headed for the barn with a small bucket slung over one arm, I could hear a large glass jar clinking inside. A pot and pan were stacked in the crook of his arm. A paintbrush, knife and ice cream scoop glimmered in the moonlight from his right hand, the paintbrush bristles glowing red. He was in the barn while I dug a circular hole, two metres across and maybe half a metre down. When he returned from the shed and opened the boot to the car, I left my hole and went to help move the bags.
“Ah, Rain, did you find a suitable place for your tree?” Dominic asked as we moved the black bags into the barn one by one.
“Yes, one tree among millions out here. It’s perfect.”
Inside the barn, everything was also perfect. Lines of protection and runes of some unknown language were painted onto the bare ground in blood. Candles lit the space at intervals within the design. Dominic guided the placement of the bags within the arrangement, careful not to scuff out his previous work.
As I watched from outside the ring of lights, Dominic opened a bag and out slithered a body like a newborn lamb. A faint groan was the only sign of life until Dominic went to work with his knife. Lines of power and binding appeared on the dewy flesh, barely bleeding. Now, the unconscious groans became cries of pain mixed with gibbering pleas for forgiveness or mercy or both. What blood trickled from the wounds was carefully gathered in a pan where the rosemary, basil and large white crystals that looked like salt waited.
The ice cream scoop cut away soft viscera and…an eyeball… I felt myself step back, instinctually shrinking away as the body began screaming. At the same time, I turned on my Eyes of the Shroud to see the spectre angrily rise from the eye socket and loom over Dominic. But the wards were in place, and Dominic’s will firm.
“Get in the jar,” He commanded. Screaming and thrashing against its fate, the spectre finally complied. The body, screaming with its spirit, fell limp as the spectre disappeared into the jar.
The breath I’d been holding stumbled out of my mouth as a broken gasp. There was real power here, power to enforce your will over the dead. Power to protect and bind…but at what cost? Would I ever be comfortable performing such a ritual? Did I want to be?
Dominic wasn’t finished with the body, however. Using the ice cream scoop, he carefully pulled out the second eye and placed it in an ice bath in the saucepan. Taking some of the ritual ingredients, he mixed them into the ice bath, turning the water crimson before turning to me.
“Here, I have a gift for you,” He said, and I once more heard the childish glee, the exuberance of sharing his passion with another. He was showing off, and all I wanted to do was run.
“Ah, that’s fine, Mr Giovanni,” I tried to sound casual, but I was sure I couldn’t hide the terror on my face, “As I said, this is your thing.”
“You have a pretty sight, but how can you become a necromancer if you don’t see the dead,” He urged the tin pot onto me, and the eye glimmered with some light of its own in the dark water. I backed away again.
“I…see…the dead, Mr Giovanni,” And I put as much conviction as possible into those four words.
“If you replace one of your eyes with this one, you’ll have both sight. Call it a gift.”
I swallowed whatever was in my throat and placed my hands over his, pushing the pan back to him.
“I appreciate the gesture and the effort you have put into this ritual, and I can see how it would be very useful…but I can see the spirits when I wish. When I was in the timeout room, I saw into a place…where the bane hid…I don’t wish to see such places all the time.”
If Dominic was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He took back his gruesome gift and carefully placed the eye in an esky also filled with ice water. Without another look in my direction, he went to the second black bag and started his rituals all over again. I had thought to leave at that moment, a hole half dug waited for me outside, but in here, a lifeless body also waited.
“Ah, do you need the body anymore, Mr Giovanni?” I called across the shed.
“Oh, you can have that blank,” He gestured without looking up from his work.
I quietly stepped around the ritual circle and started the grisly process of returning the body to the bag. It was now more of a collection of spare parts cut away during the ritual. I said nothing. There was nothing there now to talk to. The person’s last remaining spark rattled around in the jar beside the next victim. Now, it was just meat, and I thought of Izac and his insistence on the blood of animals being somehow better. I dragged the black bag out of the shed and into the hole. I arranged the body as best I could, its mutilated chest in the centre of the hole.
At one point, I looked up from my work to take in the stillness of the night. It made me wonder why my basement had caused a breach where, here, horrors occurred regularly, and the night was calm. Space, I decided, was the primary factor. Bodies could be anywhere…everywhere here, creating only a weak disturbance between the worlds. I had no idea how many lives the Nosferatu had taken in my basement…before…
A few minutes later, I returned to the shed with the empty bag. Dominic had already taken an eyeball from the second body, and from as with the last, the spectre rose from the socket. Unlike last time, this spectre’s righteous anger seethed coldly behind its green eyes, flashing in the dark silhouette of its form. At the same time, Dominic seemed to be on the brink of losing control. His eyes bulged from their sockets, and foam collected at the corners of his mouth as he strained to hold his beast in check.
Drawing on the blood in my veins, I sped up, pulling Lupara around and training it on the spirit. I dare not fire with Dominic so close, but I wanted to be ready. From the spectre, voices whispered, and Dominic hunched over, fighting against the chaos rising within him. He reached for items fallen off the body, something that belonged to the person in life. A sock was as best as he could find as he tried to dominate the spectre a second time. It coiled out of the body, no longer tied to its old flesh and hissed at Dominic menacingly, unimpressed with his commands.
Dominic looked around wildly, saw me and spat two words, “Kill it!”
In the slowness of Celerity, I carefully aimed Lupara and pulled the trigger. For a long moment, nothing seemed to happen. A gurgling started deep within the in chamber, and slowly Lupara bucked in my hands as something ejected from the right barrel. Not an explosion or even a projectile, but a long, sinuous tongue ending in two barbed teeth. It sprung from the gun, rocketing across the intervening space and lodged itself in the spectre as if it were made of flesh and not incorporeal spirit. The tongue acted like a tube sucking away …ghostly essence from the spectre, eating it gulp by gulp. Instantly the spectre responded violently, rearing up in shock at being touched, let alone eaten. Its clawed hands only moments before tugging at Dominic’s beast now clawed at the tongue as effectively as downy feathers.
“Leave! There’s nothing for you here!” I said, stepping forward so to make my message clear, but the spectre paid me no mind. It seemed almost indignant that two dead idiots would try attacking it in this way.
“The longer you stay out of the jar, the more it will eat you!” Dominic cried, holding up the jar to the spectre. The spectre ignored him and tried to pull away from the Lupara, but all its tugging did was draw more of what made it up into the bane.
In one last attempt, the spectre screamed, something like a screech and a death rattle. The sound echoed through the shed, through the physical world and back into the Otherlands. It was a rallying cry to other spectres, and my hands began to shake. We needed to end this now. Dominic started a ritual of what sort I couldn’t have said. Clearly, the creature just wanted to leave as more of its form disappeared into the bane. Drawing on the blood, I drew on my necromantic training and focused my thoughts.
“There is nothing for you here, “I said through Lifeless tongue, “If you have a chance to flee, do it now!”
This time, my words seemed to get through. Giving up the fight, the spectre started to slowly fade out of existence. I stroked Lupara and the bane, fell to the ground, and began retracting back into Lupara. It left behind a small vessel, a pod filled with two pints of corpus…spirit essence.
For a beat, Dominic and I just stood looking at each other. He was clearly almost as out of his depth in this as I was. Slowly, without a word, he started packing up his tools. Even though there were two other bodies, it seemed he’d had enough rituals for the one night.
“Would you have tried that if I wasn’t here?” I asked, watching him silently repack the remaining bodies.
“I usually come out with family,” He said, sounding as calm as ever.
“Well, it was good I was here, then,” I swung Lupara back into her harness and picked up the vessel left behind by the bane. With a shudder of revulsion, I dropped it into his bucket. I had no idea what to do with it.
“I’m afraid you will have to give me a moment to clean up here…”
“Just say thank you,” I said, interrupting his polite brushoff. He turned and glared, but it didn’t hold the same authority of old. This night had scared him more than he could admit. Instead, he picked up a bag of ashes and handed them to me.
“This is corpse ash. If you make a line of it around the shed and the farmhouse, I will keep the spectre and his friends away at least for the day.”
“Encircle the shed and house?” I took the bucket, realising it for the gesture it was.
“A rectangle. It is important to get the ash into the corners and across the thresholds,” He qualified and taught me the simple ritual, the Din of the Damned. Before I could turn to leave, he called me back.
“And don’t forget that for your tree,” He gestured to the second body, the one now torn apart by the violence of the spectre’s attack.
As I laid out a good thick line of ash, he drained the last two individuals and stored them in freezers for future use. Once I’d completed the protection ritual, I took the tattered remains of the previous victim and placed them under the tree. Placing the tree over the two bodies, I started refilling the hole. As I swung the shovel, the rhythm reminded me of a tune and words sprung from my lips. I couldn’t have said where it came from or what made me sing, only on that lonely night, it felt like something needed doing.
Amazing Grace,
How sweet the sound.
That saved a wretch life me.
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
From in the house, a rusty baritone joined in, and we sang together until the hole was filled.
Twas grace that taught,
My heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear,
The hour I first believed.
“Hey, what do you say about us getting a side hustle?” Stallion asked Izac out of the blue.
“A side hussle? What do you have in mind?”
“Well, let’s see what the lovely Delith has in rumour,” He seemed rather pleased with his idea, though Izac has done just that only an hour earlier.
“Well…sure, see what you can come up with.”
Stallion finished the dregs of his drink and returned to the bar.
“Have you heard of anyone with jobs that need doing?” He asked, louder than he would have normally if he’d not been enjoying Delith’s cocktails all night.
“There are…depends what you’re looking for.”
“I’d need to check back with my partner, but…” “Oh? Who’s that?”
“What?” Ur…had he said something he shouldn’t, “ A member of my coterie.”
“That doesn’t really narrow it down, does it?”
Stallion was getting annoyed with Delith’s inquisitiveness. What did it matter who was with? “Do I need to say everything? Who was I sitting with?”
“Sure, but I didn’t think he was the type that would really help out.”
“It depends on the job. He is hesitant to join in on some things.”
“Well, what do you think you’d be good at without outsetting his sensibilities?”
“Some mischief. Maybe tagging…give a few warnings…”
“Oh, kid’s stuff.”
Stallion didn’t like the sound of that. He wanted to bust it up! Rough up some heads! Get into it! Delith looked at him as if he’d talked about stealing lunch money.
“How about a shakedown? Something simple, we’ve got to start somewhere.”
“Well, if I hear about orphans that need recapturing, I’ll let you and your college know.”
“And, of course, if you come up with anything, I’ll be able to say what a good job you’re doing.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” She said with more sarcasm than required. It didn’t matter. Stallion was oblivious.
“That’s the way.”
Luna was getting desperate. She wanted answers and was sure Dominic was keeping the good stuff from her. Leaving the safety of the Library, she reentered Dominic’s office and stepped in behind the large mahogany desk. Each side had three draws and a long, thin draw in the centre that could hold very little but a small file. Methodically, she started on the left-hand side and moved through the drawers, flicking through paperwork and leaving it just as she found it. When she reached the centre drawer, it was clear they were much shorter than the desk, which was deep. Pulling out the draw, she found a lever that opened a hidden compartment. Eagerly, her fingers found the lever and pulled. Her ears picked up the satisfying ‘cluck’ of a release further in. Peeking under the desk, a small, usually invisible door now sat ajar. Crawling on all fours, sure that this was it, this was where he kept the good information, she flicked the door open and thrust her hand blindly into the darkness.
Her fingers recoiled when, at first, they touched something smooth and hard. It wasn’t a book or file, a sheath of papers or an overstuffed envelope she was expecting. Still, this was the stuff he was hiding, right? And she’d come so far, might as well find out what it was. She sank her hand back into the darkness once more, grasping the smooth, hard thing and drawing it out into the light. She nearly dropped it when the ivory-white bone of a human skull draped in long grey hair was revealed. Luna’s fingers grazed the back of the skull, and her fingertips detected something carved into the bone at the point where the neck vertebrae connected with the skull. Carefully, she turned the skull over and scratched with a knife or sharp implement. She found the word, MOTHER.
Far more carefully than the skull was extracted, Mother was returned to her resting place, her grey hairs all tucked back into the secret keeper before the door was finally closed. That was not what she had expected or wanted to find. When they say the Giovanni keep their family close, Luna had never considered how close.
Downstairs, while Stallion was trying to round up a little business, Izac pulled out his phone and called the King’s Arms.
“Hi, I’d like to speak to Mother Pasta,” He said to the bar staff, who answered.
“She’s a bit busy at the moment. Can I take a message?”
“Ah, yeah,” Izac hesitated. Did he really want to admit to possibly killing a werewolf with his boss’s vehicle?
“Just checking if any of you guys got hit by a car…two nights ago?”
“No. Did you hit someone?”
Pause…”It’s a long story,” He paused again, “It wasn’t on purpose, I swear…we checked.”
“What, so you ask two nights later..what are we, the rubbish?”
“Just checking to see if everyone’s okay.”
“Yeah, we’re all good. Out fighting the good fight. Not out joyriding like you..and here I thought you were a good boy.”
Izac was coming to hate the sound of his old moniker. Every time he was hearing of late it was to ridicule him.
“Well, as long as everyone is alright…and while I have you, I’d suggest staying clear of the Pyrmont house…the one I talked to Mother Pasta about a couple of nights ago.”
“What, you mean the ambush? Why?” “It well guarded now. I don’t want to see any of you guys getting caught in it.”
“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”
Izac could feel the tiny hair on the back of his neck and back stand on end.
“What do you mean “… it’s a bit late…”?!” “You set it up, where to go and who’d be there. What do you expect? For us to sit on our hands?”
“Because….” Pulling the phone away from his face, he screamed into his jacketed arm before returning to the conversation, “…I didn’t know what was happening that night.” “What? Were you out getting steaks or something?”
“I was in the middle of trying to clean up someone else’s mess!” “Well, you caused one yourself, buddy.”
“I’m giving you fair warning…” “What, three days later?”
This was going nowhere. He’d done what he was asked to, and that really was the best he could do.
“Look, just be careful, okay?”
“Alright then. I guess thanks for the warning, anyway.”
And Izac hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
4.00 am 2 hours until sunrise. 9 days until Succubus Club
The farmhouse was dark and cool. Furniture from another era created shadows around the main room. Pictures of people who didn’t look to be Giovanni’s lined the long hallway that made up the spine of the house. I followed the sounds of movement down a flight of stairs into a stone-lined cellar made into small but comfortable rooms. Dominic was busy in one…making up a bed.
“Ah, just in case you prefer modern comforts,” He plopped the pillow at the head of the bed. Beside the bed was a coffin, just like the ones at Dominic’s residence.
“Yes, thank you. I’ll stick to the bed, thanks. New world creature me.” He turned to leave. It was getting late, and I imagined that the sun would have very few impediments on the flat plains outside the house.
“Ah, and thank you…for everything…allowing me to come out here and finish the ritual with the tree.”
“Don’t worry about it, and remember…you were never out here.”
“Nothing to talk about this place,” I acknowledged his warning, and he nodded.
“That’s right, we just went for a drive.”
“In a lovely part of the world. Wherever we are.”
“That’s the spirit.”
After washing her hands of the death, Luna pulled out one of the books on the Children of Seth and started reading. She knew that Sarrasine, though claimed to be a Toreador, used abilities that were dominant in other clans. He’d lived a long while and could have learnt those things or, as Rain suggested, stolen them with the life of another. Still, the more she read about the Children of Seth, the more she wondered. For one thing, there was a strong snake motif throughout the clan. Sarrasine was often called a serpent or viper by his detractors.
There was an idea of entropy, not in the sense of the werewolves who worship the personification of entropy, the Worm, but in the idea that the whole universe was winding down, which seemed to be a lot of the Prince’s style of leadership. Do as little as possible and let society roll downhill to oblivion. The only question was, was it worth fighting to stop the slide?
Stallion slid back into his seat beside Izac, “So, what sort of job would you be interested in?”
“I don’t want to do anything illegal,” Izac replied without thought. Stallion sighed and shifted closer so as not to be overheard.
“Come on. Giovanni does heaps of stuff that’s illegal all the time…”
“I don’t want to do anything illegal…on purpose,” He qualified, and Stallion just shook his head.
“What are we going to do with you? Thirty years of this life, what have you done? How about we go tagging? That’s a victimless crime, right?”
Izac wondered what constituted ‘victimless’ in Stallion’s world. One where you never saw the face of those you harmed?
“Maybe we should sleep on it and reconvene tomorrow night,” Izac suggested it was getting late, and nothing else was going to happen that evening.
“Sure, sure. Ah, where are you staying?” Stallion asked, and Izac knew exactly where this was going.
“I have a place.” “Mind if I bunk with you?”
“I have someone who stays… it’s a small place.” “Oh, really. An admirer?” Stallion fished, but he was throwing his line out onto the freeway. If he wasn’t careful, he’d catch something he couldn’t reel in, “Come on, you don’t have to be shy about it.”
“Sorry, mate, no room at the Inn,” Izac rose to leave the table, the bar and the conversation, “I’d offer you the empty carpark space….stable…”
“You seem very keen to make a joke at my expense,” For the second time that night, Stallion felt the butt of others jokes and he wasn’t enjoying it. Where was this coterie that were meant to have each other’s backs?
“No, it’s not that…I respect you, Stal…but…I don’t know much about you…”
“Well, we can get to know each other when we get that job,” Stallion leapt at the opening. That was the last straw. With a wave of his hand, Izac was out of there.
It was fortunate, that at that precise time, Luna came downstairs looking for Izac.
“Ready to go?” He said, not stopping in his march for the door.
Luna nodded, not saying anything. Taking each other’s arms, they walked out of the Crow Bar and into what remained of the dark.
Without a place to stay again, Stallion left soon after in his car. He drove across the night back to Wetherill Park and the warehouse he knew was waiting there. He beat the sun across the city, finding shelter just as the sun sent its rays through The Heads. Pulling out his ritual items, Stallion augmented his abilities with Evenings Freshness, ensuring that this time, if he had a visitor, they would not pass by undetected.
It would be like breakfast in bed, He thought as he eventually allowed himself to drift off into the sleep of the dead.
I was lying on a freshly made bed in the basement of an empty farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. I picked the dirt from under my fingernails as I took a moment to contemplate the night. It started with the realisation that someone was after me and Luna for the watch and ended with a drive out of the Sydney metropolitan area and a fight with an angry spirit. Whatever this life was, it was certainly exciting.
One last time that night, I connected to my Necromantic powers and found Avel sitting on the bed beside me, smiling benignly.
“Well, survived another day. The tree is fed and planted. It’s nearly over. No going back now.”
“The easy part’s done. Now, the hard part is all those bodies. But when the tree is properly fed, I can have a new life,” She reached out her hand and tried to brush hair out of my eyes. The hair stays in place, and I can only imagine a subtle cooling sensation when she touches my face. I close my eyes and imagine what it will be like when she can, “And it’s all thanks to you, my wonderful son. My good boy.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I let a bloody tear roll away, forgetful of the freshly laid pillowcase below.
“Ah, you said when you do… have your new life… that you would forget…”
“Everything but one thing, yes.”
“What is that one thing?”
“Ah,” She said with a smile in her voice, “That will be my little secret.”
“O-kay,” I replied doubtfully.
“I promise you it’s nice.” She said knowingly, and I let the subject drop.
“As long as this is what you really want.”
“It certainly is.”
“I don’t know if you’ve talked to our friend in the watch, but people are looking for him. I was wondering if he knew of anyone who would be searching.”
“I imagine all sorts of people would want to know him. But no, we haven’t spoken since the agreement.”
“No, that’s fine. I don’t intend to broach the subject with him, just wondering, “ I did want to ask him, but under a Giovanni roof was not the time or place, “Good night, mamma.”
“Good night, Amal.”
5.30 am 0 hour until Sunrise. 9 days until the Succubus Club
Luna is not immovable. Forces stronger than her have acted in every direction. Becoming a vampire did not remove the weight upon her shoulders. She is aware of what she’s doing. Can see herself in the walls of this room. The fish eye lens of the cameras checking her every movement. Tracking false inhales and tracing her micro-twitches.
It is the crucial component of fire that everybody seems to forget. You need fuel to burn. Oxygen must be present in the chemical equation for it to be considered a combustion. She can feel the heat tap tap at her ribcage but her fingertips are numb as they scan paragraph to paragraph. The beast yearns for interest. It chokes on the consumption of words. Tempered down in the chokehold of her informational spiral. Luna has burnt herself into indecision.
This is not a young adult fiction novel.
There is no winning or defeating the ‘main villain’. This life is a dance of tolerance. This cigarette burns her lungs but she’ll take another hit. This drink won’t take away the pain but it’ll numb it. This fantasy of killing a snake won’t free her from the shackles of oppression. As long as laws govern the constrictions of freedom is anyone ever truly free? A hydra was a snake. She cuts down one head she’ll have six staring back at her. Is this even a good idea? Is this what she wants?
The Prince is stonehenge and Luna is but a tourist inexperienced in the immovable, eternal death of stone.
Leaving the door open, invites all sorts. I can see in Luna’s eyes she doesn’t want to, and I’ve already robbed Stallion of choice before. This is her’s to make.
Rain played his part, for what it was worth. Inviting him in my mind was something I wished to avoid, but a text was too long. Five, on the roof. The points of a star. Pentagram. My first thought after your assurance was to who knew of the watch and out of the three of us, only one was alone. But another? I can’t pick why but something tells me there is another player in this game of demons and hell. Our meeting was cut short, apologies, but for what it was worth, your presence was playing with my mind even more than Rain.
Your presence caught me off guard, I was expecting to feel something other than anger when I saw you sitting at the table. At the very least you showed up.
“Im not your enemy” No, you’re not, but you are to the others. They are loose ends to you. Not to me.
Four names, four of the six who created this city before their betrayal. Two long dead, either by his hand or some other scheme. Melbourne Wollongong Canberra Tasmania Some close, others far. I’m going to have to find a way out beyond the reach of the prince at least for a while to get to them all. Or maybe let it be his idea, give me a reason to go on his behalf?
I’m not a snakeslayer, nor do I wish to continue to be just a tool in everyone’s kit. Giovani, the prince, you. Once this is over, its over. I will find my peace somewhere else, where the corruption hasn’t spread.
Your talk of the others has been echoing in my mind. In reality, you are right. They will destroy themselves on the paths they travel, they will lose their sense of humanity in time. I am no preacher. I can only hope I can offer them guidance when they ask, for as long as can. Lacking purpose, a need for the spotlight, degeneracy, a broken mind. You said I wasn’t happy when you found me, I thought I was. So, what’s my affliction?
Guilt?
Is it wrong to lament past actions when they were so terrible? The wolf does not care for the opinions of sheep…
I’m tired, and only now has the route up the mountain been revealed. I need to press forward, its time I start climbing.
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel and entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Woolongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabout unknown.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni. Some sort of relative of Mr Giovanni.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
A Strange Life 