A Strange Life

9.00 pm, 9 hours until Sunrise.  11 days until the Succubus Club.

After a night of chaos and horror, the coterie members all found their ways of unwinding. Dominic had driven off to the morgue, where he fed Madeline and settled down to the puzzle of how people had died.  Izac was building his sanctuary out of sheer force of will, and Luna was doing her best not to disturb him, even meditating herself.  Stallion was taken out to a large warehouse in the middle of a massive industrial estate and practised what Dominic had planted in his mind. 

As for me?  I did a little woodwork.

Though the bar upstairs was as busy as always, the staff areas were silent.  No Bruce, no Stallion, no Giuseppe.  I mooched around the office spaces, picked up a snack, and headed down to the garage.  I knew Bruce had kept a selection of tools down there from previous visits and wasn’t around to complain.  It was pleasing to find everything I needed, from rags and gun oil, to sandpaper, wood chisels and putty.  I had a little experience with making props for shows, either my own or someone else.  Like everything, woodworking was about having a plan and following it. This time, I didn’t have a plan for the vision I wanted Lupara to be.  It was up to me to work out how to get there with the tools Bruce had so carefully collected. 

First, I stripped down Lupara.  All her life, she’s been a work-a-day tool of murder.  Any care taken with her in the past had been perfunctory at best.  Dispose of the empty shells and wipe off the blood.  I carefully broke her down, cleaning and oiling what I could before reassembling the working parts.  I removed the grip and forearm, sanding and polishing the wood until the walnut gleamed warmly.  

Laying it all aside in a clean space, I finally revealed the stake.  I was not as old or finely made as Lupara had been, though I was still a fine-grained hardwood with a bright yellow and red hue when sanded and polished.  Out of the point, I carved the shape of a loping wolf, its tongue lolling out of its teeth-lined jaws. The blood, the charring and the natural colour of the wood all gave the wolf life as little by little, the excess wood chipped away, leaving only the profile of the hunter.  Lightly sanded and polished, it was put aside, too.

Now, I transferred the outline of the wolf to Lupara’s forearm and carefully cut out the cavity.  Even now, before it was complete, I watched the interplay between the warm dark walnut and the lively bright tallowwood and couldn’t help but smile.  No more the sheep but the wolf.  No more the prey but the hunter.  Where I had been reactionary, responding to my fears and the threats around me, I would be cautious, careful and plan. I had no idea what sort of gift Lupara was, but if nothing else, she was a symbol.

Slowly, the cavity gave way to the wolf’s shape as it finally dropped into place.  I cleaned away the excess wood glue and gave the whole one last polish with the oil.  She was finished, and she was beautiful.

I looked up from my work.  I first noticed the new SUV parked in the Crowbar private parking.  Seeing Stallion’s bike in the back and knowing that White Shark boon had been swapped for a car, I assumed this was the promised vehicle. 

I wonder if Stallion remembers his car? I thought mischievously and pulled out my phone.

YOU DIDN’T TAKE THE NEW CAR I BOUGHT YOU, WHY?

I could imagine a confused Stallion trying to make sense of the message. His answer would tell me what I needed to know.

YOU BOUGHT THE CAR? He remembered the car, but not who gave it to him. I smiled.

SURE.  YOU WANTED ONE, AND I LIKE HAVING A DRIVER.

BUT WHITE SHARK WAS GOING TO GET ME ONE.

NOW, HE DOESN’T HAVE TO WORRY.

It could be fun having an empty-headed Stallion around. If at any time the memories didn’t sync, it would be back to Dominic for a tune-up. 

Before I closed my phone, I spotted Brendan’s message from a lifetime ago. A mere twenty-four hours.

SMOOZING TONIGHT!  COME AND MEET ME!

I’d missed that appointment, and the realisation took all the humour out of me. I quickly tapped out a reply:

SORRY LOVE…GOT TIED UP LAST NIGHT. FORGIVE ME?

It took minutes for the reply to arrive.  Maybe Brendan was busy with preparations. Only a few hours off, ten days to go. Then again, Brendan did have a hectic social life.

OOH!  WHO WAS HE? 

AN ITALIAN. STILL WANT TO CATCH UP. SOME TIME THIS WEEK?

EURO CHIC! SEND A MESSAGE BEFORE. THINGS ARE CRAZY!

Smiling again, I looked up from the phone to the empty garage.  The black Porshe was missing, as was one of the estates.  I remembered Dominic’s handing over the keys to the Porche to Izac for an excursion to the werewolves the night before.  That explained why it was gone, but why hadn’t he returned it? Izac and Luna’s minds were in sync as they entered the bar later. I’d been unable to tell them apart at the time and, in desperation, had just picked one at random. They had taken the car out, and…something besides werewolves happened.  If the riddle of the missing vehicle didn’t resolve itself, maybe it would become my next quid pro quo question.

With no one around to pester, and at a loss of what to do next, I texted Dominic to see how long he would be.

ON MY WAY BACK NOW.  ETA 2.

2.00 am, 5 hours until Sunrise. 10 days until the Succubus Club.

Stallion had no idea where he was.  When he arrived at the Club, he found Bruce and was driven west to the centre of a massive industrial estate. The warehouse, as promised, was large, with one end virtually empty of boxes and pallets.  Bruce left him to his practice as, for several hours, he recited over and over the two rituals he knew.  It was frustrating and tedious, with only the occasional highlight when things went as expected. He was the only one in the vast cavernous space, and emptiness only reminded him that he hadn’t eaten that day.

It was almost a relief when a text came through from Rain.

YOU DIDN’T TAKE THE NEW CAR I BOUGHT YOU, WHY?

An image of his new car flicked up in his mind.  The memory faltered as he tried to remember the exact moment he’d received the car. The keys flashed through the night as he snatched them up with his hand. But who had thrown them?  Rain? That same hand now went to his pocket and found the keys.  Yes, he had a car…but he couldn’t have said who gave it to him.

YOU BOUGHT THE CAR? 

SURE.  YOU WANTED ONE AND I LIKE HAVING A DRIVER, came the reply.  Of course. It figures Rain would want a driver. 

BUT WHITE SHARK WAS GOING TO GET ME ONE, Stallion replied. What would he do when White Shark actually came through with a car?  It wasn’t like he could text him and let him know. He supposed he could always have two!

NOW HE DOESN’T HAVE TO WORRY, Rain texted, and Stallion could almost see the tiny man beaming.  It seemed like it was a good night to be Rain. Stallion wasn’t sure if he could say the same. 

Dominic arrived back as promised around two a.m. driving the estate.  He glanced at the space where the Porche usually sat and sent a text.

LUNA.  IT’S OBVIOUS YOU’RE STALLING.  BRING THE CAR BACK REGARDLESS OF IT’S CONDITION.

He looked up as the phone slipped into his jacket pocket and noticed the SUV for the first time. Glancing around, he spotted me, still at the workbench, Lupara in my hands.

“Ah, Rain, whose car is that?”

“I believe that’s Stallion’s,” I couldn’t help but smirk, “At least he’s going to be driving me around in it.”

“Are you ready to return to your old haunt?” He asked. He effectively wiped the smirk from my face as if he’d taken Lupara and blown it away. I distracted myself by spinning Lupara around my finger and dropping her into the leg holster.

“Ready to go.”

He headed back to the car he’d driven in, and something of a malicious feeling came over me.

“Where’s the Porche?” I asked innocently, “She’s such a beautiful car, I can’t help but admire her every time I’d down here.”

He stopped in his tracks, “I’ll be getting that back soon.” His voice was flat and serious, “With an explanation. Something’s obviously gone wrong with it. I’m just waiting for them to come forward and actually admit it.”

I shrugged and took the passenger seat. I wondered what that would mean for the two unfortunates, wherever they were.

Luna had no idea what time it was.  She’d given up on meditating and given up on trying to amuse herself with her new old phone.  Now, she was just sitting in the corner of the lounge watching the very still, very silent Izac. There was nothing about his outward appearance that showed he was alive or dead. Hell, there was nothing to show he wasn’t a statue.  

She was alone. Indeed, alone for the first time in… It was strange not having the voices bugging her, gnaw at her will.

The new phone buzzed.  It was a text from Mr Giovanni.

LUNA.  IT’S OBVIOUS YOU’RE STALLING.  BRING THE CAR BACK REGARDLESS OF IT’S CONDITION.

Fuck.

Luna had a license, but like many people, she only used it as convenient proof of age. A ticket to party.  As a uni student based in the inner city, having a car and practising her driving had never been a priority.  As much as she loved riding around in it, she didn’t feel comfortable behind the wheel of the twitchy, temperamental and highly prized Porche.  

Besides, she’d given her word to keep an eye out for Izac. She said she would stay, and that’s what she intended to do, even if Mr Giovanni was breathing down her neck or the silence was haunting her. She couldn’t break a promise to keep another.  She had to put her foot down.

THAT’S TOMORROW NIGHT’S PROBLEM. She texted back, then threw the phone back in her pocket, where it stayed for the rest of the night.

Stallion was hungry.  He’d been practising for a few hours and was feeling the results.  He was also very sure he wasn’t in Mr Giovanni’s domain anymore. If he went feeding here, he’d have to find the locals first.  Deciding he needed a break, he left the warehouse and walked down one end of the wide road, to see what he could see.  

Unlike the residential streets around Pyrmont, the road he walked was unlit, without even a front porch light to guide his tread.  Potholes in the heavily metalled road loomed out of the gloom underfoot, and he soon realised that big trucks would not have time to stop for him if they came charging along expecting empty streets. Though he was pretty confident in his ability to take a knock or two, he decided prudently not to make a target of himself and kept to the overgrown footpath. 

 His short walk soon brought him near a park following the creek line through the Industrial Estate. A brick building lit by a few fluros in metal cages glowed a sickly yellow in the empty darkness of the park. In the glow, Stallion could see movement, three kids it looked like…at least they didn’t look full grown.  If they were kin, all well and good.  If they weren’t…well, sometimes it was better to ask forgiveness than seek permission, right?

Getting closer, he could see details. None of the three seemed old enough to grow a beard.  All wore hoodies or t-shirts with baseball caps and jeans, nothing branded.  They looked like scruffy teens, leaning against the building or crouched in the dirt in a circle, chatting as Stallion approached.  Their conversation stilled as they were made aware of the ‘adult’ in their presence.  

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The one standing asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Just walking around, seeing what’s what,” Stallion replied casually, he had nothing to fear from these scruffy teens, “What’s happening in the night. What about you guys?”

 “Asking a lot, aren’t ya?” The teens eyed him a moment, assessing him,” We’re discussing ideas.”

“Well, it’s up to you to share with a stranger…” Stallion said, leaving the thought hanging.

“We have a question for you,” One sitting crosslegged in the dirt piped up, “How do you like elders telling you what to do? Do you like being bossed around?”

This was a topic Stallion knew all too well, “I can’t say I do, but I’m not a fan of crossing them either.”
“That’s what we’re discussing,” The first one cut back in, “ how to…resolve that particular problem. Would you like to enlighten us with any of your wisdom?”

A snicker ran through the group, but the first cast a look around, and they all fell silent.

“Depends how far you’re willing to go, isn’t it?  All the way, or just a minor inconvenience?” This comment gained looks around the group.

“Just how fresh are you?” The first asked, clearly that night’s leader.

That sounded like a personal question, but he was here to make friends or at least not go out of his way to make enemies, “A couple of months, give or take.” 

The leader tilted their head, “Hmm, maybe we can offer you a deal.  Nothing scary, mind. It’s just an agreement that you’ve got our back, and we’ll have yours.”

“Nothing that would put me on the scene?”

“Nah, no card carry members here.”

Now, Stallion was unsure.  He’d have to be out here several times a week practising, he could do with friends in the neighbourhood. Still, he’d learnt Mr Giovanni’s lessons well and knew what the Prince’s justice looked like. Besides, no matter how they dressed or acted, these guys didn’t sound like teenagers, and they’d been around a while longer than him.

“I’m interested in hearing you out.  I’m not sure if I’m going to accept or not.”

“Sure,” The leader nodded, “See, we’re all about living our best lives, being all we can be.  We’re sure you have someone telling you what to do. Do this, don’t do that.  Come here, don’t go there. That sort of thing.”

He knew that feeling alright.  It was why he was stuck out in the middle of nowhere, wasn’t it? Still, he didn’t want these punks thinking he was some sort of gimp.

“I’ve been given guidelines, but mostly I can do as I want.”

“But wouldn’t you want to be completely free?”

Freedom. Izac had asked what they missed most from their old lives.  He’d said the sun…someone had mentioned freedom. 

“That is tempting.”

“No one telling you what to do? Where to eat? You making your own decisions.  Freedom.”

Maybe it was his slightly more adult brain, maybe Stallion was learning a little wisdom, but something about that statement sounded dangerous.

“At the cost of safety, you can have freedom. I’m still pretty green, so maybe I need to watch my steps more than you.  Right now, if anything goes wrong, I can always ask my sire for advice.”

Now, there was a definite shift in the group at the word ‘sire’.  A collective shudder that spoke louder than words.

“Well, when you decide to make choices for yourself, you can come find us again, maybe. “ The leader said dismissively, “If you decide you want freedom, we’d be glad to have you in the Anarch.”

“Maybe when I’m a little less green and know my way around a little more.” Anarch?  He’d heard that before, hadn’t he?

“Well, kill some people, eat your fill and get back to us.  If you’ve nothing more to discuss, we’re busy.”  

The three teens huddled around, excluding Stallion from their group. It was clearly a dismissal.  Stallion walked the neighbourhood, taking the long way back to the warehouse, seeing no one.  Better that way.  As much as he wanted to make contact with the local kin, he’d rather they not know where he was…or what he was up to.  Skulking back into the empty warehouse, he found the toilets and locked himself in to study privately.

At the Pyrmont house, Dominic strode purposefully up to the front door as I stalled, holding back. One day.  A little more than 12 hours ago, it had still felt like mine. Now…I couldn’t pin it down, but the place had a new vibe.  An eerie feeling.  Roller shutters blocked the view of the interior from the street, and a small brass plaque on the door advertised a new business:

Ambrosia Antiques

0411 328572

 “Rain, are you coming?” Dominic stood boldly at the front door, which looked as it always had.  He rapped on the door.  I bounced off the car I’d been leaning against and followed him to the door.

“In!” said a woman’s voice from inside, and Dominic turned the handle and opened the door.

Inside, the changes were even less noticeable.  Furniture I’d carefully selected, paintings curated and placed with care, items of art and interest were piled higgly piggily in corners, views blocked, and passage through the house obscured.  It looked like the beginnings of a very expensive hoard, items collected with no interest in how to display them.  It was depressing and only added to the eeriness.  

Eurotrash.

“Yes, nephew?” Lucretia said, walking out of the once gallery into the hall, her baleful glare flicking from her nephew to me.

“Uncle said I could come and complete my education,” Dominic said, looking around as if Ambrogino would appear at any moment.

“Possibly,” Her hooded eyes flickered up and down Dominic as if assessing him, “But, do I want to?  You come here expecting to dominate my time, not even considering what Aunty wants. I’d say that’s rude, wouldn’t you?”

“Indeed,” I interrupted, sensing an opportunity to smooth the path, “We’re here to see exactly what you need…” My carefully crafted words faulted as her gaze settled on me.

“Careful, you may offer me sweets and treats, but Toreador’s are not my flavour.”

Oh good. 

As if assessing us both, she stepped back, “You could amuse me for a while, perhaps.”
“In what way, Aunty?” Dominic reclaimed control of our side of the conversation.

I started filling her in on the stories and scandals of the locals, but she quickly brushed aside my tales.

“Don’t worry about the corpses,” She said with a chuckle, and I caught a childish spark of mischief in her eyes. She already had something in mind, and to her thinking, it was just a little bit naughty. I’d never had an older sibling but had lived in my share of foster homes to have seen that look before.

“If you want to learn more, Nephew and Nephew’s…thing…”

Nice!

“… then you need to experience the other side. You need to take it in, feel the energies around you.  I want you to step through…”

Fine, a few seconds hadn’t hurt Izac permanently.  He’d been his old self after a rest.

“…for one hour.”

At this, even Dominic, who had quietly accepted the idea, baulked a whole hour in the sapping environment of the wastes.

“After what it did to Izac after a few moments?” I said.

“He was fine,” She waved away my concerns as if trivial, “Do you even care about that wuse?”

“Well, yes.”

“Urgh!” She stuck out her tongue in distaste.

“I don’t want to end up a shrivelled…mummy…thing…” Really, an hour? 

“You’ll be fine.  It takes…years for that to happen.”

That would explain Ambrogino’s ultra-exfoliated skeleton look.  Though old, he wasn’t as old as the Prince was rumoured to be.

“It’s not like I’m going to leave you there.” Says the older sibling, who has the key to the shed hidden behind her back.  Yes, if she wanted to, locking us out was exactly what she could do.

But she did have a point. How could we expect to manipulate this world if we didn’t know about it?

“What if we build up to an hour?  An hour seems like an awful long time for a first showing,” I negotiated. 

“I want an hour,” She said almost impetuously, “I’m not asking you to dance or fight the locals, just be there.”

Dancing, I could have done it. It was the location.  Talk about a dead room.

“You can sit, you can ride a worm for all I care, but I want you there for an hour, by my count.”

I turned to Dominic. He didn’t look happy but was resigned to it nonetheless. I’m sure he’d done worse for less when it came to his family.

“In for a penny?” I asked, and he nodded in agreement.

“In for a pound.” And turned to face Lucretia, “Well, Aunty, if I am to learn the family secrets, I may as well dip my toes in.”

“Very good, nephew.  See, I’m glad they didn’t molest you, they would have made you all weird.”

I kept silent at that little revelation.  I knew the Giovanni family’s reputation. I’d seen it in Giuseppe’s head.

We went down the basement stairs and into the now-empty basement. In just a day, weeks of work thought, planning, and…love had been wiped out.  The bar I’d salvaged from a local house renovation, the tables and chairs we’d brought across from the Crowbar, and the second-hand glassware I’d chosen, all gone. Even Lenny’s art was already wiped away as it never existed.  Now, it was just a dank cave. Of course, it meant nothing to Dominic.

“Is there anything we need to do, or do we just step through?” He asked Lucretia.

“Step through and don’t be a bitch,” She scolded him, the least likely to act like a bitch of the coterie. As predicted, without another word, he stoically stepped through the hole in the wall. As for myself, it was just another reminder of how quickly everything could be taken away.

Well, if you take away my bar, at least you can educate me in return,  I thought and quickly stepped through the hole in Dominc’s wake.

The air was hot and dry.  There was no breeze, though everywhere, in the corner of our eyes, things flitted. Screaming and howling could be heard everywhere without any discernible source. And, of course, in the distance, the bones of some behemoth littered the landscape.  This was the antithesis of life, yet when I glanced across at Dominic, I saw his expression transformed.  The dour lines and creases softened, his eyes raised to the horizon and took in his surroundings joyfully.  A giggle of glee escaped his lips as he bent down and grabbed a handful of sand, letting it run through his fingers. Somewhere, a man screamed, I could see his face in my mind’s eye as the sand trickled back to the ground. For Dominic, it was like a child experiencing the beach for the first time, he didn’t know where to look or what to do first.

“The Dreamtime, “ He said aloud, more to the land around us than to share his thoughts with me.

“Pardon?”

“Also known as the Dark Kingdom of Clay. It is the Penumbra that exists around…under… the land, past the Gaunlet.  It is the afterlife, but it’s also the history of this land, tens of thousands of years of human history…” 

I only understood one word in ten of what he told me, but I gathered that depending where you entered the land of the dead reflects in the land itself. When he called this place Dreamtime, he connected it to indigenous peoples’ history and traditions, whose minds and wills shaped it for sixty thousand years. Though it, like the land of Australia was not untainted by European influence, the shadowlands beyond the hole in the wall had been created for tens of thousands of years longer and reflected it. 

I was starting to see what Lucretia had meant.  This wasn’t just an alien place because it  was the Aftelife, it was alien to us because we had no connection to the Dreamtime. The profound weight of time rested on my consciousness, and I knew how fortunate I was to be standing in this place. I started to wonder if the library held any books on the Dreamtime.

I turned on Auspex to try and get a feel for this new place, and was assaulted by colours.  Everything, the sand the rocks the bones, the sky, the air itself, was angry and full of hate.  Nothing here lay peaceful in its rest.  After a minute of trying to tease out details, I gave up and looked away, unable to take in any more.  And we were to stay here an hour…of real time?

I turned to look back at the hole in the wall, back at Lucretia staring at us with a devilish look of glee on her face. And then, I realised she wasn’t moving.  Nothing was moving. It was like time had stopped as soon as we’d stepped through the portal.  How long was an hour going to be?

Dominic bent down once more and started drawing letters in the sand.  L A R C E N Y.  It lay a moment in the sand, as you would expect, before a large mouth of sand opened up and ate the words, disappearing just as it had arrived out of the sand itself.  With a childish glee, he looked around for something else to write about.

“It’s rather nice here,” He said absent-mindedly as he found nothing.

“Right,” I replied, unable to wax lyrical.

Using his finger again, he drew the shape of a tree in the sand.  This time, nothing happened.  It seemed that here words had meaning beyond the mere symbols of the letters. Against my prejudices, I was being entranced by this dead place. As Dominic cleared the sand, I was attracted to a movement on the horizon, two figures moving.  They didn’t seem to be coming nearer, they didn’t seem to have noticed us at all, but continued on their way.  I wondered what people would choose to be here, then remembered we’d done just that.  Lucretia had skipped happily into the hole the night before, and a number of werewolf clans wanted this exact thing.  It seemed many people wanted to be here for just as many reasons.

My focus shifted back to something flitting close by, and I was surprised to see two faces glaring at Dominic and myself.

“Ah, it seems we’ve caught the attention of the locals,” I pointed them out, but Dominic was busy playing sandcastles.  He’d spelt out a new word: K N O W L E D G E.  This time instead of lying still or being eaten by a sandy mouth, the ground itself started moving.  Like a bow wave, the sand broke over a smooth bald head and a desiccated face screwed up in wordless frustration.

“Well, that is interesting,” I couldn’t help commenting like a tourist finding a rare treasure poking out of the earth.

“Hello there,” Dominic said urbanely to the head between us.

“Why did you do that?” Said the head in a dry, husky bark of a voice.

“Because I want to know more.”

“Well then, “ he spat out a dry clod of sand, “You should have been more specific.”

“Sometimes, when we dip our toes, we can be a little meek,” Dominic said by way of apology.

“Then you’re dipping your toes in the wrong pond,” The head snapped back, and I stared on fascinated.

“I don’t know about that,” Dominic thought a moment, “What is this place?”

“Death, the thereafter. Bad places filled with bad people. The end, you might say.”

“The restless dead, you say?”

“Some less restless than others, chum.  I was sleeping until you had to go writing above my head.” Now he was getting really belligerent.

“What is your name?”

The head looked like he didn’t want to answer.  After a moment crunching sand through his blackened teeth he spoke again, “You can call me Tom.”

“I’m unfamiliar with this land’s afterlife. I know Hades and the Dark Kingdom of Obsidian.  This just seems to be an abyss of…nothing.”

“Oh, so you thought there’d be a big pretty snake, multicoloured birds flying about…go deeper, you’ll find them. As for me, I’m good right here.” The head swivelled in the sand and glanced at me for a moment.

“Does your gimp talk or does he just stand there?”

“He talks,” I replied, crouching down to get a better look at the head in the sand.  

“Ah, and he listens too, doesn’t he?” The face squinted, looking at me.

“Yes.”
“What did you two think this would be a good place for a date?  Expect me to play some music while you slurp down spaghetti?”

“No, that was never the expectation.  Can you tell me something, though?  If someone used souls to power the opening of a gate to here, where did those souls go?” It was something that had been on my mind.  One of the many things.

Tom thought a long while, “They’re just…gone, aren’t they.”

“Like they never existed?”

“More like when you burn a fuel.  What happens to it?”

“It turns into something else, energy, carbon deposits…”

“Sure, they entered here with no…what we call corpus, and they evaporated…like spirit.”

“And you?” Dominic interjected, “You don’t like your own awareness?”

“I suppose you bloodsuckers have a different way. But us normal dead, we don’t like existing, we had our time we should be done. We’re ready to end it, why do you think I was trying to sleep. All this talking and thinking…it’s all so…tiresome.”

“With that said,” Dominic stood to look at me, “Is there anything else you want to ask?”

I did, but not to old rotting Tom sleeping in the ground.

“I wonder if this might be a good place for a chat.  There is absolutely no one around who cares, and we have nothing else to do until the hour’s up.”

“Some would care. Others would rather skin you alive and play with your bits!” Regardless of how much effort, Tom seemed to enjoy sharing that little tidbit. 

“Well then, I guess we don’t need a bystander,” leaning down once more, just under Tom’s chin, he wrote the word SLEEP.

Tom disappeared the way he’d come, sinking back into the sand until it was like he’d never been there.

“Interesting,” I said as I started feeling the oppression of this place weigh on me. It was like depression and a bad trip compounded by eternity brewing. Nothing good or happy survived long here. All was dead and waiting for nonexistence.  A mind is not meant to be there, certainly not without a door out.

Suddenly, I stood, sure the hole into the basement had disappeared or wouldn’t work for us or…

“There’s a door there, see,” Dominic smiled, and I felt the panic rising.

“Can we go back that way?” I could see Lucretia, just as I’d last seen her, that mischievous face staring at me. 

I blinked, saw the hole in the wall and knew it was fine. We were fine.  This place was having more of an effect on me than I’d imagined. Silently, subtly it was working on me, making me think I couldn’t leave and trying to keep me. Talk about bad trips.

 I scrubbed my face furiously with my hands, “This place is messing with me already.”  Annoyingly, Dominic seemed immune. Maybe because, in a small way, he carried a little piece of this place around with him. He just stood watching me as Ambrogino and Lucretia had. A lab rat in their maze. 

“Well, the writing in the sand was intriguing,” I said, trying to move the subject off me.

“Yes, a place where ideas literally come to life.”

“And die,” I couldn’t help but add. That hour couldn’t finish too soon.

“I mean, you died.  We all die. There’s nothing wrong with dying.”

I knew it.  I knew I was…dead, intellectually.  It’s hard to believe it while you’re still walking and talking. Time. I have time. What is an hour to eternity?  

“An interesting thought.  Something I’ve been running from all my life.  It’s hard to break a habit.”

“Look at you. You’re a dashing young man.  I’m sure you’ve had your share of women in your time.  Now you’re dead, and you’re fine.  Everything’s fine here.”

I knew he was enjoying himself, but I hoped he wasn’t equating death and this place to making love.  If he was he was doing it wrong or…his family were more messed up than I realised. I needed to change the subject.

“Well, that’s just great.  While I have you in such a good mood I’d like to talk to you about Lenny.”

“What do you want to let me know about Lenny?”

“That he’s an intelligent fellow who has ambitions of his own.  One of those ambitions is…” Here it comes, can’t go back now, “…thaumaturgy.”

“Ah!” Dominic said, as if surprised by new and interesting bug that just flew by, “But it’s not exactly thaumaturgy for him, is it?”

I didn’t really comprehend what he meant by that, “He says, it makes sense…when he has the blood.  Then the shapes make patterns the spells have rhythm and rhyme.”

“Because the blood makes humans better. That was quite clever of you.  I’m proud of you for that.” Ah, and now I was the stink bug at his boot. I’d heard him talk like this to Stallion before sending him away so as not to cause trouble. Still, I was glad he wasn’t yelling or tearing my eyes out, so I was happy to take the praise at face value.

“Praise? I don’t know if I deserve that, but okay.”
“Oh, I’m a monster and so are you,” He said with a knowing smile.

“We can act monstrously,” I qualified, “We all can. But it doesn’t make people monsters.”

“Really?” He said with such assurance, I shuddered, almost hearing my beast laughing.

“Really.”

“You know he’s dependant on you now?” Back to Lenny, though not exactly the topic I wanted to broach.

“Yep, we’ve had that little discussion.  We have a honest, open relationship.  We look out for each other.  We always have and we will going forward. We have long lives together.”

“Exactly,” That knowing smile again.  I suppressed by desire to cringe.

“And as I said, he’s working on thaumaturgy at the moment. I was hoping he could learn something from Stallion and practise alongside him.”

“Maybe don’t push him towards thaumaturgy.  He’s human. Mages are different to us. Our magic is literally in the blood.  He could probably learn thaumaturgy eventually, but it would be weak in comparison to what Stallion does.” 

Well, there went that idea. Still, he had a point. Lenny was still human.  Though the blood could help him understand, he’d have to become kin to really power it.  Like trying to start a car with a AA battery. It was unfair to ask him to try to learn something he didn’t have the…fuel to power.

“I see.  So, what do you suggest?”

“Hmm, what’s he doing at the moment?”

“He said he was making sense of the symbols and rhythms of the rituals.”

Dominic thought momentarily, trying to recall what he knew of human magic. Above us a cloud of light formed with two alien figures all eyes and rays of light looked down on us. They looked familiar, like something in a textbook I’d read on the indigenous people of the world.  They looked like figures from ancient cave paintings more than forty thousand years old.  The spirits of the land were paying attention to us.

“Quinkans?” I said without realising it.

“I don’t know much about the afterlife of this area to say what they are.” He glanced up, didn’t know what to make of them, and continued our discussion.

“You said he was making sense of the symbols more than anything else?”

“Yes, he mentioned them.”

The happy smile broadened, “I know this lovely little place, just near Central Station, called the Theosophical Society.  I’m fairly certain they have books on Symbology there. If I were you, I would add some Symbology books to his list of readings.  They might help him awaken.”

I couldn’t believe it.  Actually genuinely helpful suggestions.  

“Well, that sounds excellent. We’ll get onto that straight away.”
“It is the goal, I assume, for him to awaken?”

“Yes,” I couldn’t believe it, a library just in Sydney that could be the answer to all his queries.

“That is a deliciously dangerous idea.”

“Is it?” Was I doing something stupid again in encouraging Lenny to magic?

It was then that I felt it.  It was like the temperature dropped, but it was still hot and dry.  The pressure had changed just in our vicinity, but it had not brought the respite of rain.

“Do you feel that? Something…different here now…”

“Things work differently here.  Maybe we should ask Aunty Lucretia if it’s time.” He turned to face the hole and was confronted by a creature in a business suit carrying a briefcase.  That its face was a screaming mask, something akin to an indigenous ritual artefact, was the only thing that informed us that we weren’t dealing with a human.

“Er…good evening,” I said politely.

“IT’S TIME FOR YOU TO LEAVE,” It said, its voice dead and monotone.

“Fair enough,” Dominic accepted.

“We were hoping it was,” I agreed.

Still, just stood there, blank, with black eyes staring as Dominic started for the hole in the wall.

I stood, frozen with indecision. I had so many questions: Why the suitcase? Did he work for Lucretia, or was he an agent of the land telling us to go? So much to ask, but I settled for the obvious, “Could I ask your name, friend?”

“NO. LEAVE.”

Fair enough. And as I walked past him, his form became indistinct. Not so much fading, but though he was only a metre away, he appeared to be near the horizon, the millions of things that filled the air here diffusing his form.

We stepped back into the basement, Lucretia still smiling mischievously. Then, to my great surprise, Dominic began to blather like a five-year-old.

“Did you see that! Did you see me, Aunty Lucretia?  It was amazing! The ground actually responded, and we talked to one of the dead and saw spirits!”  

“Yes, “ I joined in, seeing the pleasure that Lucretia got vicariously, “And Tom, what a crazy guy.”

“What did you do?  What did you learn?” She asked, looking first at Dominic and then at me.

“The afterlife is very strange. Distance and time are separate from each other.  Ideas have weight and power.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically, “Close enough. Let’s see what I can teach you both.”

After hours of listening to Lucretia open up the secrets of necromancy to the two of us, it was time to go. Dawn was coming.

“Aunty Lucretia, you said you were bored. Would you like me to send over a television, a computer, and other marvels of the modern world?” Dominic asked as we left.

“What?  Spend time watching the corpses?  No, that sounds like silly shit.”

“Lucretia, would you like some books?” I suggested, thinking about all the obscure and interesting titles in Dominic’s private library.

“Hmm, books would be good. What are you offering?”

I looked to Dominic, a small smile on my face. I still had my uses.

“None of those shitty Penny Dreadfuls,” She qualified.

“I could open up my secret shelf for you, Aunty.” Secret shelf?

“Alright, I’ll take some.” And between the two of them they settled on the Vampire Encyclopedia.

“Anyway of me getting a look at that after, Lucretia?”

“Certainly.  After my Aunt. Only ever after.”

“After Aunty.”

5.00 am, 2 hours until Sunrise. 10 days until the Succubus Club.

*****************************************************************************************

Izac’s thoughts:

The Past / New Voices

“Not everything has to be a fight.” Competition was in my nature, in all our natures. Coming up we pushed each other to be better, do more, do it the best. From school, to TAFE, to trying to build a business. Not to say we hamstrung each other, by no means. When one fell behind, we dragged them through and put them back on their feet.

We were a team.

We found trouble as well. Never ones to take an insult laying down, there were plenty of times we were kicked out of pubs or had to run to avoid the police. All honesty, the temperament was probably more trouble than it was worth.

That’s were Mads came in.

The voice of reason to come into our lives. First, she mellowed out Joel. Figures, considering they were joined at the hip for all the times we saw them after she came onto the scene. We thought he was going soft; I voiced as such and started a fight that lasted for a couple of weeks. For a lifelong friend, he didn’t pull any punches, verbal or physical. Maybe that was the reason why. It took the others to sit us down and work things out.

“Not everything has to be a fight” she said. I didn’t get what she meant at the time, but over the days after our little talk the seed started growing. Things became less intense. I hadn’t realised the tension I had been holding; my perpetually sore back slowly began to fade away.

She got to the rest in time. We learned discretion. Her influence made us into better people.

…

I should have known better. Why didn’t I know better?

We make mistakes, 

It wasn’t your fault

I’m sorry for yelling.

It’s better than your silence

I didn’t know

No one did

What is that song?

*****************************************************************************************

Luna’s musings:

Storage: A Web of Broken Promises

Meditation could not hold her attention forever. People moving around in the apartments beside them, the cars passing on the roads below, the thoughts in her head all roused her from the moment. 

The apartment did not change. She would check more than once an hour, to stave off the memories. Anything to keep them at bay. She already let her mind wander this night, in a cold villa masquerading as an Italian masterpiece but is as hollow as any palace found throughout history. 

Izac was so close but so far. 

She sat next to him once more. Maybe she could refocus and calm her mind. Maybe she can find what her mother used to talk about. A concept of peace. 

Do you remember? 

Luna can’t remember her face. The room is shaking. Bodies crash against hers. The floors rattle from the pressure of the bouncing. Her ears feel like they are bleeding as she passes a speaker. 

The lights are turned off. Harsh yellows, pinks and purple flash spastically as the corpus plays a human version of ping-pong. 

She doesn’t want to be here. 

Someone passes her a cup. She drinks it. 

Her phone’s been buzzing. She knows who is calling. The top of the screen will say ‘Mamá’. 

She’s broken curfew all week. Her mother works, she sleeps or is at school and when her mother is home, she is back out again. 

She lost the look of her face at sixteen. Only knows that when she looks in the mirror she is a poor replica of her. A complete forgery. So fake even a layman could point her out. 

“I should have known better? Why didn’t I know better?” 

Luna is back in the apartment. The tv is turned off but the apartment next to theirs has the nightly news playing. 

It was in English. Her mother always had the Greek news playing. Her fingers lightly traced the curve of her biceps. Up and down. 

‘Deep breath in… long breath out. You’ll be kalá, like how your mother taught you.’ 

She cannot recall a detail of her face. Cannot recall anything better than that white marble tome holding her name but she remembers that song. 

Her mother cleaned. She cleaned as a living, since it was the best she could get in their part of town with English as her second language. She always hummed this one tune. There were never any lyrics. 

Aisthánomai is the word the older woman has used. 

“Be quiet. I have to be quiet,” Luna muttered to herself as the tune played through her ribcage. She didn’t want the silence. It took her back too far, too close. 

That stupid phone beeped from her pocket. 

Her socks padded against the wooden panels as she walked back around the apartment for the hundredth time. The text was exactly what she expected. 

“I know you’re stalling. Return the car regardless of its state and explain yourself.” Giovanni was as forward as ever. She wanted to break the phone. Serves her right, doesn’t it? 

You’re full of broken promises. Why not make more? 

There’s some she can’t keep anymore. It would put people in danger, people she swore to protect, people who deserve a better version of herself- 

Why bother changing? 

She was changing! She was doing better! If it weren’t for that fucker– 

“It’ll be returned tomorrow night,” is what she texts back. She had this promise to keep and she’s sick of breaking them. Giovanni can back her into another corner all he wants. She can’t keep breaking promises. Breaking ones she didn’t even know she should be holding. She didn’t know- 

“I didn’t know!”

Her voice radiated off the walls. Bouncing back to her and it sounded like someone else. 

She put the phone back in her pocket. 

Full of excuses, she’ll always be. Every unanswered call, every late night turned to morning, every ‘I won’t be home for dinner’.

She was humming again, sitting next to Izac. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” It was the only way anyone listened to her. It was the only way she knew how to get a point across. A girl raising her voice was the only way to get attention and society wonders why no one reacts to women screaming. 

He did not react, he couldn’t. 

Luna’s knees were huddled against her chest, arms a poor excuse of a blanket as she curled into herself. 

A day of quiet and she felt as torn apart as she had yesterday. 

Maybe she’s never known what quiet truly is. 

‘There is always a voice,’ is what she had told the Prince. 

It was so quiet now. Why can’t she enjoy the quiet? 

‘You are our passion, you know that right?’

She didn’t want to motivate anyone. She was impulsive. A match burning at both ends. She’ll be the first to get caught in the flame. She doesn’t want them to burn with her. 

Izac deserved better. Did she bring him peace like he did for her? Does he care? 

The humming relaxed her muscles, bringing her head to the top of her knees. 

The Beast was quiet now. Your prey isn’t fun anymore when it decides to go limp and plays dead. Maybe it had something to do with Izac’s ritual? Maybe it was the ghosts of her past finally knocking at her amygdala without alcohol to dull the tap tap tapping. 

You’ve never felt guilt until you’ve felt it sober. An experience she’s had to go through twice now. 

Hopefully Izac is enjoying her mother’s tune. 

Notable NPCs

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

Detective Woodman:  NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia.  He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.

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.

Night Rider: Red-haired vampire?  Works for the Prince.

Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)

Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats

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.

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. 

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.

5.00 pm, 3 hours until sunset.  11 days until Succubus Club

The advantage of a vampire’s home is that no space within its walls is inflicted with sunlight during the day. It matched my mood.

 I thought for a long while before finally searching for a bathroom and cleaning up.  With nothing else to wear, I pulled out the vest and trousers from my Succubus Club outfit.  I stared in the mirror for a long while, trying to make sense of the face that looked back at me.  It looked bemused, concerned and baffled in equal measure.

“Snap out of it!  Whatever this is, it is another new chance. How many more could you have in you?” I said to the stranger.  They seemed to grow bolder with my words.  Straightening their shoulders and smoothing down the vest, they left the bathroom, Lupara strapped to their thigh, the wooden stake hidden under their vest.

In a room dominated by a huge walnut coffin, I found Luna and Izac arms around each other on a bed in the corner.  Curled around each other, dried blood still leaving tracks down their cheeks, they made me pause. Pale and still, they were the most exquisite marble sculptures, the two forms making one.

 It was tragic and beautiful, sad and serene, and for a moment, I just stood watching them in silence. I was glad they’d found each other. I was.  I just hoped it didn’t come at the cost of something for me, too.  Bobby Listener’s prediction came to my mind, and I brushed it aside.  I was done trying to do things on my own. Look where it had got me.  No, I needed help, and these two were the best I had.

 Izac was mumbling in his sleep, and I watched as I caught snatches of names and words.

“Alex…no, don’t….please Joel, I…can’t no Mades…”

I became keenly aware that I was intruding on their privacy and quietly moved to Luna’s side of the bed.  I had meant to wake her and ask her for my things back.  Maybe it was the beauty of the moment or my shame at imposing on it, but instead, I tried slipping my hand into her jacket and pulling out the will, the watch and my other possessions.  Her eyes snapped open and, after a moment’s bewilderment, found mine.  The heat from the glare was damning, and I quickly withdrew my hand without my possessions.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, but still awoke the ever-vigilant Izac.

“Actually, I want to speak to you, Izac…and you too, Luna, if you don’t mind…before the others wake?”  I stepped away, and they slowly uncurled from their slumber.  

I left the room and was gratified when I turned to see them following, side by side.  We walked passed closed doors to rooms I was glad to leave unexplored.  Down the sweeping travertine marble staircase, around to the lavishly appointed white and gold loungeroom.  I took a seat, and Izac sat on the opposite sofa, with Luna sitting beside him.

Opposite sides. I took a breath and started.

“Sorry…I wanted to start again, and I started poorly,” I looked between the two of them.  Izac was awake and listening. Luna looked…defeated.  God.  Before we’ve even begun?

“Luna, could I have my things, please?”

She silently pulled out the sheaves of photocopy paper and the watch and handed them to me.  I took a moment to sort through the pages, still in the order I’d left them. I pulled out the first and third, putting them aside before tearing the rest into small pieces.

“So, I realise that you and I, Izac didn’t start well. That is partly my fault, I was…preoccupied with trying to be something…to make something of myself to pay attention to the people around me.  Finding that you’d been sleeping at Pyrmont without me knowing was a symptom of that. So, now I have this chance…I’d like to rectify things,” I watched again as I Iet my opening salvo sink in. 

Nothing.  It seemed this was my show.

“Feel free to join in the conversation,” I smiled by way of lightening the mood. It didn’t.  Fortunately, Izac did fill the growing silence.

“I don’t really know what to say.  We had a…moment, that…I may have made a disproportionate reaction,” he said wiping his eyes as if clearing away sleep, “I’m sorry for that.”

I nodded thanks for the admission, “There was fault on both sides, and for my part, I think…you’ve probably got nothing to worry about.” I found my hand resting on Lupara in its holster at my side, “at least we’ll see next time we go into combat.”

“For someone who hates guns, you sure seem to be holding onto that one,” his eyes flickered down to where Lupara lay.

“It’s..” I was about to explain where it had come from when I noticed Luna’s look, a thoughtful recognition of the change in me.  It was clear the bane was gone. My skin was its normal paleness, and gratefully, my tongue was back to normal. I nodded, pleased that whatever was happening inside Luna, her mind was still sharp.

“I know you want to turn a new leaf, but that’s a pretty heafty leaf to turn,” Izac interjected, and I agreed.

“You’re right, but it’s not so much turning a new leaf as becoming a new person.”
“What sparked this change?” 

“Last night happened.  Last night was…such a…profound…” I stumbled over the right words to describe the night’s effect, “…turning point. Give me a moment to explain.”

I once more went through Rain’s life story, starting with a small boy, the only living victim of genocide, unknowingly haunted by the spirits of his past.  His life never settling down, always moving on, even when events brought him in contact with Avel, the spirit of the mother he barely remembered and who had always been there. And then onto last night when it was discovered hundreds of spirits had followed him out of that pit in the Bosnian countryside only to end up coveted by Ambrogino.  This telling, only the third time I’d told the tale, went smoother, Izac sitting silently as it all rolled over him.

“Those ghosts… Ambrogino took those shadows of my past to power his gateway last night.”
“How about your mum?” Luna asked, almost the only thing she’d said that evening.  My eyes flicked to her, and I gave her a small smile of thanks for engaging in my tale.

“All except Avel, he left her.”

“Your mother is with you?” Izac asked in bafflement. I’m sure before that moment, he’d thought I’d meant metaphorical ghosts, which to be fair, I thought they had been.

“Yeah, that surprised me when I found out…a few years ago.  She’s always been with me. They all have. But where she was a positive force, they were only a screaming…angry…fearful…mass. And that’s gone now.”

Leaning back on the white leather of the sofa, Izac took in all he’d heard.  There was acceptance and bewilderment in equal measure, which I felt was positive.  At least he believed me.

“You have my condolences for the loss.  I know what it’s like to lose family.”

Luna reached out and took Izac’s hand. I rubbed the stake scar as it ached, watching her comfort him.  I focused on Izac and his words.

“I thank you, but I find myself…torn by their loss.  In one respect, Ambrogino gave me freedom.  For the first time, I am…quiet in my mind.  At the same time, I feel their loss and know I’ll never know…maybe family, friends, neighbours…I don’t know.  They’re gone.”

I noted something harden in Izac’s look.  He didn’t like my seeming carelessness at the loss of hundreds of souls.

“Gone for what? Your… demeanour seems changed, I guess…what…you feel unburdened now?”
“Distant,” was the best, after a night of thinking, that I could come up with, “from what’s come before.  In a way that becoming Kin and climbing out of the sand didn’t. I don’t feel like the same person anymore.  I don’t feel like…Rain.”

He seemed somewhat satisfied with that, “at least… you have a chance to start again.  It’s good…”
“In saying that, you don’t ever run away from your past, “ I had finally learnt that the hard way, “and there is something between the three of us I would like to discuss…and hopefully build upon.” I took a pausing breath and continued.

“We have since…Boofhead’s death, out in the forest. We made a pact over his body and blood.”
“Never again,” Izac mumbled, and I could see the shame and disgust he still carried.

“Do you think so?”

“It was a pact to keep us safe,” Luna added, and I nodded in agreement.

“A pact that brought us…together.”

“That pact’s come and gone,” Izac took a long time to get his thoughts together, “we did what we had to do, right? Nothing more than that. I’d like to trust you, this new Rain that’s come along…”

“Don’t you think we can build on what was started there?  Not our foundation but the spark of something better…greater? Because you know we can be greater together, don’t you?  Instead of broken up into our fearful little units.” Now we were getting to why I wanted to talk to them both. I could barely contain my words to let Izac speak.

“Let’s…can we take it one step at a time?” 

“That’s true.  But this is why I wanted to talk with you, without the others present. I think,  together, we could do great things here in Sydney, and great things are needed in Sydney. But we’ve got time.  I know that now.”

Suddenly, there was a movement from Izac, a flick of irritation, and a rolling of his eyes at the mention of ‘time’.  From the man who had more time as kin than any of us outside of Dominic, it was surprising.

“Do you have concerns with me?  Is there something you’d expect from a future partner?” he didn’t answer that, and I felt myself backtracking, seeing where I’d lost him. “I want to start by building a place of trust between us three…” And now there was no mistake. Izac jumped as if something had stabbed him.  A harsh, sad laugh burst from his lips to be stifled by a hand. He looked desperately sad at those words, and I realised whatever it was had nothing to do with me.

“Start now.” He said, swallowing down a feeling too large to express, “ask me a question, and I’ll answer it truthfully.  Then, I’ll ask you, and you will do the same.”

“Okay,” this was promising.  I grasped the offer with both hands, “would you like me to start?”
“I have a question,” he said, now as engaged with the discussion as I was.

“Go ahead,” I held my hands wide, “I’m trying to be as honest as possible.”

“All those things Luna had of yours…what’s with that watch?” He gestured to my vest pocket, the watch back where it had always been.

“The watch? Ah,” I thought a moment and handed over the two pages I’d saved from the will, “I wrote those when I thought I was going to die.”

“There are some questions about this that we can not answer,” Luna said, and Izac nodded taking the two pages from my hand. She was right, but as I agreed, I noticed the slight tilt to her head and a frown creased her brow.  Either her beast or the watch was speaking to her, and laid my bets at that moment it was our demon friend protesting Izac’s inclusion.

Are you sure you want to get him involved? I’m all for redemption, but martyrs are a touch different.

“Luna, you should speak up if you have concerns. I know you read all of them.  If there’s something you don’t think we should share?”

And now it was my turn to hear from the watch.

If you want proper honesty you can bring him into the fold, but I advise against it.

I smirked.  I wasn’t breaking my promise by this revelation, and they didn’t get a vote.  It was time to stop being a pawn to my voices.

We need to have another chat.  How much of our original deal still exists after last night?

You have your mother, and you have the tree.

It was something the beast had said that had played through my mind all that day.

Nothing more is needed?  Avel can’t power that tree.

She’s not to power the tree. She’s to be reborn within it. 

Yes, that was the plan… 

Izac read.

Dear All,

I’ll forego the “Being of sound mind…” bit of this as you already know that’s never been true. 

I’d like to not die. If that’s not in my cards, then consider the rest of this my will and testament.

Everything I own belongs to the coterie.  Use it wiser than I would.  Give generously.  Money like life,  is not worth anything if it’s not shared.

Treat Lenny decently, whatever is decided.  Remember he like you, is someone I love.  I know he can be more than the wretched hand he’s been dealt in life.  Remind him of that. 

That’s it. Not much to say for a life, but I’ve always tread lightly on this world.  

Please find attached messages for each of you.  It’s poor respect for a magician to peak at his tricks.  Respect each other’s privacy in this. What you do with your private message…well, I don’t get a say anymore.

I was very lucky to have known you all.  Thank you for your time and patience.

The man you knew as Rain.

Izac,

Our poor abused and noble Izac.  I just finished Stallion’s note, telling him we were very different, but brothers nonetheless.  You and I on the other hand, I believe, are very similar.  Built of the broken pieces of a lives full of trauma.  It is a shame we never got a chance to just sit down and talk.  

Luna is my sister and my rock, and I am happy to see her happy with you.  You give her…peace, I believe. I wish only happiness for the both of you and I hope together you will be able to live long through these nights. I don’t know how these things go with vampires. I would think over your long lives you may come to grow apart, but right now, you are together and right now is all any of us can say we have.  From someone who has died twice, I can tell you, there is no better time than right now.

Things you need to know. 

I have a watch with a demon inside.  Luna knows about it.  If it remains undiscovered I’d suggest you encase it in concrete and go for a cruise outside the heads.  Neither of you need that thing in your life.  I did make a deal with it, not for myself but my mother who has been tied to me all these years.  I had wished for her to have a new life.  That will not be.  Luna knows more.  I’m sorry this burden falls on you both.

I have knowledge that though Prince Sarrasine claims to be a Toreador, I believe he acquired that bloodline through the eating of another, though I don’t know who. I know he is not what he seems, I have seen past at least his public mask, though I would not suggest it was his only mask.  I would like to tell you to let him rule his city and live your quiet life, but if you are to stand beside Luna, expect to be the centre of attention.  She is destined to make a noise or die trying. 

I envy your noble heart.  Your ability to hold yourself to a higher standard than those around you.  Keep true to yourself and others, like the werewolves, will come to understand that you are a good man.  I believe it was Cain’s wish that people such as you lead the kine into the future.  Be careful that, in the meantime, you are not abused by individuals like Mr Giovanni.  

There is so much I wish I could tell you, but a short note is not the place for it all.  Luna knows many of my secrets.  Maybe some of them will be useful to you.

With deep respect and love, Rain.

“False flower,” he scoffed at one moment, and I knew Luna must have told him.  I glanced her way, and she had the good grace to shrug.  

“It’s fine.  I’m trying to be open and honest.  This is why he’s getting the letter.” Because no one is more honest than when they’re facing their death.

“Is that still what you want to do?” Izac finally finished the letter and turned to me.  We’d been discussing the watch, but I’d moved on already.

“This is me…trying to make up for our bad start.  Luna knows all this, and I wanted you to be aware of it.”

It wasn’t the answer he was looking for, “well, thank you.”

“And I should think it’s pretty clear why I wanted to get it back from Luna.  It’s..incriminating, and I’d thank you if you could destroy your part,” I played with the shreds that were the other three pages.

He looked around, saw the open fireplace that the lounges encircled, and threw the torn pieces of his letter into the cold, dark hearth.  I’d have been surprised if that fireplace had ever seen an actual flame.  I quickly picked them up and put them with the other scraps for obliteration.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll make a smoothie out of them all later,” I shrugged, and Izac had the good grace to look sheepish.

“My turn?” The quid pro quo hadn’t been my idea, but I was warming up to it.  I had so many questions, but one seemed most pertinent after last night.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I must admit to overhearing your conversation with Luna this morning,” I thought that would get a spark of ire from at least Luna, but she either didn’t care or was hiding it better than usual. From behind my back, I revealed the stake.

Now Luna flinched, and Izac went to move in front of her.  I must have looked confused. Why would I stake Luna?  Besides seeing what it could do first-hand, what had she to do with one?  She seemed truly terrified as if she believed I could ever use it on her.

I glanced at the stake again.  It was nothing. A piece of wood, stained with blood from the tip to where it suddenly charred, a black ring no more than a centimetre wide.

“I would not recommend being staked to anyone.  You are aware of everything that happens but completely unable to do anything about it. That includes letting Stallion…burn me.” I couldn’t help but run a finger around the burn mark, “but, that’s not what I want to ask. You mentioned something about a stake not..being able to affect you…was useless on you…?”

“…wouldn’t do shit to me now…” He supplied, and I nodded in agreement.

“They can’t affect you? Why is that?  Because I can tell you I’d like to know how.  Last night is not an experience I’d like to repeat.”

 “Last night…was a similar experience I’d rather not repeat.  The reason why that won’t work is because there is nothing to stake.”

That was not the answer I was expecting. I figured it had to do with his exotic past, the experience that turned him from a ravaging monster stalking the streets to the socially aware Izac we knew.

“You have no heart?”

“Not anymore.” 

Incredible. How was he walking around conversing with us as if nothing was out of the ordinary?

“Luna, did you know?” I asked more to confirm what he’d said to get her view. All her attention was firmly fixed on the stake in my hands.  God. It was as if she’d been staked last night instead of me. I silently turned the stake blunt side to her and offered it, hoping to relieve her fears. With a sudden gesture, she flung the stake across the room to clatter against the polished marble floor.

“And for God’s sake, leave it there!” She yelled.  It pained me I couldn’t comply.

“No, I’m keeping that, sorry,” I retrieved the wood and tucked it under my vest away from fearful stares.

“Oh God! Oh God!” She cried her head in her hands.  What had happened to the poor girl?  

“Sorry Luna,” I started again, getting us back on topic, “but did you know about Izac?”

“No, I didn’t.” She replied, her voice muffled against her hands.  Another surprise.  Then again, if it had only happened last night…

“I’m sorry, friend, that you had to go through that,“ I dragged myself back to Izac, “is it something you can talk about? I would like to like to hear about it.”

“Simply the price of business and me being who I am,” was all he said.  Business for Izac.  I remembered he’d left partway through the night with Dominic for an Interview with the Prince. 

“Last night?”

“Yes, with my meeting.”

So, it was the Prince.  One more nail in that coffin.  And I’d thought my night had been hell. It seemed none of us had got out unscathed.

“That’s harrowing.”

“It was almost a relief at the moment, but now…I want it back more than anything else.”

“Do you think that’s possible? Do you know it’s still around?” 

“If it were gone, so would I,” he replied simply.  

While he behaved, the heart was safe.  As soon as he became a problem that the Prince needed to fix…

“Ah, it’s an insurance policy.”  The room went silent.  Yes, he had come away from last night with the heavier burden.

“It’s a plaything in the hands of a madman.”

“That’s horrible.”
“Nothing I can do about it.”

I wasn’t so sure about that…but slowly, slowly.  We all had lessons we’d learnt.

“We’ve both been… stripped of everything in one night…”

“Not everything,” Izac said, and my eyes slipped to Luna, who was still by his side, holding his hand, “not yet. We still have time.”  

I was enjoying the quid pro quo back and forth.  He had got some answers to his questions, and I’d heard about his night. 

“Your turn.”
“I think one is enough for now,” Izac didn’t feel the same way it seemed.  I was losing my audience.  It was time to get back to the point of this conversation.

“Well, before the others wake up. I do want to discuss going forward. Now bear in mind, this is a long-term arrangement, this is not Rain of the past that wanted to do everything tomorrow.  But, Izac, I do believe you are our strong moral compass.  I need someone to bounce ideas off, someone who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m being stupid.  And I’d like that to be you.”
“In time, Rain. If you need help with something or someone to talk to, I’m here,” he replied, hedging his bets.  

“And same here.  I want to be there for you.  You don’t have to walk these nights alone.  That was never how I envisioned this life.”

“It’s the one we have,” so defeated already. How could I give them hope?

“I also have things to offer.  I’m creative, resourceful, and resilient.  I can be useful.”
“You are our team socialite,” oh gag, please, “yes, you do bring a lot to the table.”

“I can do more than that,” I say, hoping my belief will stir them. I tried to with Luna.

“And Luna, you’re our passion, you know that, yeah? You just have to find out what your course is.  Where are you heading?  I’d like to help you do that.”

She was staring at me as if I was trying to sell her a mountain of sewerage and convince her it was a good investment in agriculture.  It stank, and she was unconvinced.

“Maybe we need to do a little quid pro quo, huh?”

She said nothing. 

Izac watched between Luna and me, trying to determine what was happening. Eventually, something switched on behind his eyes, and he became afraid.

“Luna? Can you talk to me at all?”

She squirmed in her seat, clearly uncomfortable under this spotlight.

“Passions… causes… die like people.” She spat. The words were so heavy they fell to the ground, bruising the marble.
“What do you want to be? You’re hiding.”

“Always hiding.”

“You don’t have to with us two,” I pleaded.

“Sydney’s a dead town. There is nothing to fight for here.”

“It doesn’t have to be. From death, life can grow.”  I wrung my brain for the words I needed, “this place used to have life.”

“Not that I’ve seen. Not that I’ve witnessed.” And with that, my hope of drawing her on my side slipped away.

Only for Izac to come to the rescue.

“I remember, back when I was alive. It was nice.”

“I think you’re forgetting I lived in this Sydney.  There is no past Sydney for me.” Said the nineteen-year-old.

“In all due respect, this is your town, Luna, but you’ve not seen it when it was alive. You’ve only ever known it…as it is now.  Izac’s telling the truth. I used to listen to the stories of my friends who lived decades in the City.  They knew it when it was a vibrant living space.  It can be again.”

“Should it be?” She replied, but I wouldn’t be put off with such a simple retort.

“Where else?  I don’t think running is the way anymore. We’ve got to make a stand somewhere, haven’t we?”

I wasn’t getting through.

“Luna, can you tell me what you want?  Do you want to live here as things are?”

“Obviously not,” She replied, and I felt hope return.

“Then….we need to change them,” I smiled, “And if Brujah do anything is incite change. I want to help you do that.”

“‘K,” Was all she said. I couldn’t read if it was acceptance, resignation or ‘Go fuck off Rain and leave me alone’. When did I lose her? 

“I’m sorry Luna.  I don’t know what I’ve done.  I’d wanted to start by thanking you for coming to my rescue last night.  For being there…” And she had been.  Maybe when it came to it, her actions spoke louder than her voice.

“I was the only person that understood.”

The words were so quiet I barely heard them.  She understood?  Because she’d been through something similar?  When? How? It would explain why she’d been so on edge, not just in that lounge,  but also the night before. She felt like she was about to explode. 

Abrogino had said something similar, “… that rabble-rouser… barely containing her fire… “.

“Is there something you need to share? Can you share?” 

“A passion, a drive, a fire? I don’t know if I want to watch the world burn or not watch at all.”

Our Luna had always been full of bitterness.  She came spitting out of the sand.  I’d forgotten over the weeks we shared Pyrmont. Maybe she had too, for a little while.

“I…don’t want it to burn.  I want it to be bright.” But weren’t they the same thing from different perspectives?  We both wanted change.

There was more to say on this topic, but not now.

“Regardless. As for the others.  I don’t know what to do for Stallion.  He seems to be…playing games?”

“Stallion…I don’t think Stallion knows what he wants,” Luna piped up. This seemed to be safe ground on which to speak.  I’d take what I could get.

“You’re selling him short,” Izac responded, gaining Luna and my attention.

“I’m not selling him short, I’m selling a fact.  He had me cornered in the library last night, talking about bonding, and I didn’t know if he was hitting on me or making a business proposal.  He seems a little lost.”

“I know he burned me. I was staked, helpless, and he burned me… and left me…with Giuseppe. He did that.”
“Couldn’t you be contributing malice to stupidity?” 

“But how long do we put up with stupidity?  When do we say, that’s enough?”

“Speak for yourself, I never said he was stupid,” Izac interjected.

“Until we get facts to the contrary,” Luna added.

I paused and thought about what they were saying.  This was why I wanted us together, right?  To hear their opinions, to moderate my own?  Since our first night, Stallion had been dominated and mind fucked by Dominic.  Could it be what I was contributing to malice was brain damage? So, if Dominic had messed him up, could we fix him?

“Okay,“ I gave in with a sigh, “I’d rather he not know about our little friend in the watch, though.  He knows the watch exists but not what it is.”

“He knows about the tree,” Luna reminded me.

“But again, not what it is. Let’s leave it at that.”

“I could use your help with something,” Izac changed the subject, which I gladly latched onto.

“Speak!”

“I have a meeting. At this moment, I can’t say with who.  But, your talents…I’d like someone I could trust on the outside, keeping an eye.”

“You have me, “ I accepted his offer, pleased he was taking a chance on me so soon, “when’s the meeting?”

“Tomorrow night.”
“Right.” Not a lot of time for scheming, but Izac wasn’t a schemer. That’s why I’m here.

“What were you saying about time?” Luna quipped, and it was almost like yesterday… early evening yesterday.

“I don’t have anything but a possible appointment with a tailor so, I’m yours.”  I was feeling good again, this was now going better than expected, “I will defer to you on the topics of Stallion.  Funnily enough, regarding Mr Giovanni, we could let him in on some things.”

Izac looked at me bemused, “Mr Giovanni, really?”

“He could get rid of the watch,” Luna suggested, and I was glad I was finally saying these things out loud instead of just into my empty head.

“He has experience where we do not. He has resources.  He’s not afraid to break the law, and he knows where it can be bent.”
“And I know he has a weakness…” Izac suggested but didn’t explain further.  That reminded me of the previous night.

“Oh yes, he was also quite badly burnt by Uncle Ambrogino and may be looking for allies in some grand scheme.”

“Right…secrets…subterfuge…what else is new…” Izac grumbled, and I had to smile.  That was the Izac I knew!

“Ah, I said I would be honest with you two.  I never said anything about the world.”

It is what you are, Izac. And always will be. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, looking to tear their flesh. Never change that. They are your prey.

Suddenly, a change came over Izac.  He writhed in his seat, his fingers raking through his hair, looking to tear flesh, wincing at some inner turmoil. He had defended Stallion, and we all knew he had a bad relationship with Dominic. This may have all been too soon.

“Look, I don’t want to cause tension between you and Stallion.  If you’re mates, that’s fine…”
“I have a meeting to go to,” Izac got up to leave, desperate to end the conversation. 

Shit. Still, take what you can get and when you can, and never count your money at the table.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to say.  Thank you for listening to me.”  I, too, stood to leave, collecting the remnants of pages I now had to dispose of.  I left them to talk and went in search of a blender.

6.00 pm, 11 hours until Sunrise.  11 days until the Succubus Club.

The sound of voices and movement awoke Stallion.  Climbing out of his coffin, he poked his head out of the bedroom door and listened. It was the other three, Luna, Rain and Izac, conspiring as usual.  Well, let them.  He’d never know what he’d missed out on if he had his way.  He turned to climb back into bed and was startled by the coffin. He’d been sleeping inside an actual solid-wood-dead-body-carrying-coffin! Shrugging, he climbed back in. It was comfortable, with a small pillow and a satin lining.  For a moment or two, he wondered if it would constitute a circle of wood for ritual purposes.  Unfortunately, regardless of the quality of the carpentry, corners either collect energy, as with a pyramid or disrupted energy, and for the purposes of a ritual, it was as leaky as a sieve on the sea.  Instead, he climbed out again and went in search of his adopted sire.

Dominic was already awake, having risen from his coffin as usual and made himself presentable for the day. If it was disconcerting to have Stallion wander into his private bedroom, he didn’t show it.

“Stallion.  How are you feeling?”

“Ur…after yesterday, a bit here and there…” Stallion confessed, and in truth, he did not look his cocky self.

“Is there something I can help you with?” 

“I hope you know someone who can help me find a way to forget last night.”
Dominic had to consciously school his face and stop smiling, “I can help you with that if you like.”

“You can?” Suddenly all of Stallion’s troubles disappeared like one night’s memories.

“How much would you like to forget?”

“Preferably all of it.  The stuff with the ghouls is alright, maybe not that stuff we found in the rooms.  The rest…have fun with.”
“Do you want me to replace it with anything?  We should probably replace it.  Gaps in your memory can make problems of their own. You become aware of not knowing if you understand.”

That was something that Stallion could relate to.  How often had he woken up not knowing what had happened the night before?

“Yeah, alright, whatever you like.”

Dominic licked his lips in anticipation, “can I ask why you want to forget?”

“Ah, you see, Bruce is trying to blackmail me,”

“Oh, about what specifically,” absolutely delightful. He rocked back and forth on his heels.

“I may have tried some thaumaturgy.”

“Oh, so you succeeded in learning some?”

 “Not exactly, at least not as I wanted.  I tried Vine of Dionysus on Rain when he was staked and chained, and it didn’t go as planned… and it sort of set things ablaze.”

Dominic stopped rocking with delight, “last night, you burnt my timeout room?”

“No, only Rain.”

Dominic became very still and solemn.  It was one thing to learn thaumaturgy and quite another to go flashing it about on the VIP floor.

“Okay, I will do this for you, but you will owe me two boons…no, three,” He said, recalling the dog Uncle Ambrogino had made Stallion kill, “You slit that dog’s throat instead of just breaking his neck, didn’t you?”

Stallion looked despondent.  It seemed it was one of the many things he’d prefer to forget from last night.

“Ah, yeah that was in the way of getting back at Bruce,”

“I understand, but now I have to replace the carpet.  Also, doing magic on the VIP floor. My customers come here expecting a certain level of safety and peace, you broke that rule.  You caused my staff discomfit, not something I’m likely to overlook. Finally, what you’re asking to do is not a minor task, it takes effort.  Three boons, is that agreeable with you?”

Stallion had to think.  What were boons about again?  He’d got a car out of a boon with his dad.  Like a favour, right? “Sure, Mr Giovanni, whatever you want.”

Dominic asked Stallion to take a seat, and he spent a few moments relaxing Stallion and making sure of his compliance.  With his agreement assured, Dominic entered Stallion’s mind and viewed the memories as if video recordings on a hard disc drive.  

He saw Stallion meeting up with his sire, White Shark, and the two of them heading over to Pyrmont to sell the house to a pair of werewolves from King’s Cross.  He saw the frenzy and the botched staking. He saw his rituals in the keg room and how he’d tried and failed to possess the dog. He saw all the notes that Stallion had made for himself on his phone. He saw Ambrogino enter the office and demand he kill his dog. He saw everything from that day, and as Stallion had suggested, he stripped everything past the fight with the ghouls from Stallion’s mind.

He now started adding things.  Stallion went to a party and had a little too much of his favourite meal.  Pot laced blood with a little bourbon chaser.  Boofhead had died of a heart attack earlier that day, tragic but inevitable and it was only right to drown his sorrows.  I had been staked, it was unfortunate, but I’d frenzied and could have hurt someone.  Stallion had attempted magic, but now he had learnt from that aborted attempt.  He’d not thought to go back to the house, had not seen his sire, received a car, and no deal with werewolves had been struck. 

He then added a few other changes. A thought that doing thaumaturgy was akin to masturbation, something to be done in private.  There were those who would be unhappy to find someone out of their bloodline casting spells.  He now thought there was nothing in the basement.  He changed Stallion’s attitude about Ambrogino, from someone to fear to someone he could learn from. He smoothed out the rough edges of the relationship between Stallion and Luna, and finally, he made Stallion love drinking his blood – would ask to drink his blood.

“That was an interesting interaction.”

I had stalked off to dispose of the scraps of paper and left Izac and Luna alone in the lounge.  Luna was still shut down, barely responding.

“Are you good?”

“I’m standing.”

“It probably wasn’t good of me to throw all that stuff at you last night…this morning…how do I still get that wrong after all this time.” He laughed at his own foolishness.

This time she did respond.  A smirk and a hug, leaning into him as if he were the only thing keeping her upright.

“It’s alright. We’ll figure it out,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“What’s your play for this…evening?”

“Well, nothing,” Luna replied but didn’t let go.

Eventually, it was Izac who pulled away.

“I’m going to go find the others. Are you going to come with?”

Luna responded by sitting back on the immaculate white leather lounge and shrugged.

“Sitting in the dark is not the healthiest thing for you, Luna,” Izac said, gaining one of her baleful stares.

“I’m just saying. It’s not healthy for anyone to sit around alone.”

“Why don’t I open a blind and enjoy the…whoops!  Maybe I should be coughing over the tomes in a dusty old library?”

“No, that wasn’t my style.” He now chuckled, not at himself but with her.

She shrugged again and looked away, “It showed.”

In the end, he left her brooding and searched for the rest of us.

With the scraps of paper mulched to a fine paste and tipped down a convenient sink, I, too, went in search of our adopted sire.  I had so much to say, too much, in fact, for one evening. Slow and steady.  It was time to become friendly once more. 

I found Dominic sitting across from a dazed Stallion. I’d seen that look on Stallion’s face before.  The last time Dominic changed Stallion’s mind was when he introduced Blanco into our lives.

I felt sick.

“You’ve altered his memories.  Why?” I turned to Dominic, ignoring the currently drooling Stallion.

“His request,” Dominic replied, as he stood and walked across the room to take my hand in welcome.

“Of course he did.” What had his drug habit been but an escape from his memories?  More and more, I thought it might be worthwhile to take a walk down what was left of Stallion’s memory lanes.

“It’s good to see you, Rain, with all your facilities intact.” We shook hands like the gentlemen we were.

“It’s good to be seen,” I confessed.  Here was the director of my survival last night.  God help me. 

“I’m glad we were able to get you into the Time Out room, as opposed to…using other tactics,” He added, and now I did feel sick. 

“Yes, that was…” I could have killed a lot of people.  I could have easily been a Masquerade violation and ended up dead.  I had Stallion to thank for quickly quelling my beast…but there seemed no point in that now. “ I thank you, Mr Giovanni, for everything you’ve done.  You have been…” The calming centre? The link with salvation?  I was finding it hard to grasp the correct phrase, so I borrowed someone else’s.

“A couple of nights ago, we were visited by our sires…”
“Yes, I just found that out,” he said, and I wondered if there was a little hurt in that comment.    

“Stallion?” I guessed, and he nodded.  At the sound of his name, Stallion’s head whipped around in our direction.  Yes, too many things to talk to Dominic tonight.  The tree was going to have to wait.

“So, how was it meeting the one who dumped you in the ground and left you there?” A barbed question.

“Very disappointing,” I replied, but the hole of Garcia’s rejection was more present than my currently healing chest wound.  Dominic didn’t need to see that, “But he did say one thing, which has been confirmed lately.  That I could not do better in a sire than you.”  I watched his expression. He was as stoic as ever, ”I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble.”

“I’m glad you’re coming around,” as if it had been a simple difference in opinion.  Still, I wouldn’t be churlish to the man who saved my life.

“It was only one night, a few hours when you think about it. But it was a whole lifetime.”

“What was it like meeting the man who gave you his blood?”  This again?  Maybe he’d forgotten I had known Garcia briefly before my embrace. Maybe he was living vicariously.

“Frankly, he was the least of the things that have happened over the last few days,” I said more bitterly than I meant. Damn Garcia.

“You saw what Ambrogino drew from me down in the Pyrmont basement to power the gate?”

“Yes, it seems your mother wasn’t the only one to latch onto you.” It was strange to think that out of everyone, Dominic really saw what I’d lost.

“They’re gone now. I don’t have…whoever they were…behind me…forcing their fears…on me.” How was this still so hard to say?

“You were in a place of great suffering, it seems,” he said, and it was like being seen. God help me indeed.

“I had no idea, and I find myself…in a different place right now.”

“Moments in our lives can do that.  Change your whole perspective in just one second.”

“Just a few hours.” 

“Do you feel a certain urge to go out and make the world yours in a single night?” He asked and I could imagine a rye smile playing across his face.

“I have time,” I gave him a smile in return, and I will swear we shared a moment of understanding.

“Glad to hear that. One of my greatest worries with you was that you were too… in a hurry.”

“I knew no other way of being. I was always running.” 

“Oh, and if nothing else.  Don’t set a business up in your basement.”

And just when I thought he was softening to me, another barb, “yes, sir. Though I don’t think I’ll get much chance of that again.”  I changed the subject.

“I would appreciate it if you could put me in touch with your tailor.  I have a whole wardrobe to rebuild.” 

“First, there is something else we need to discuss,” he replied, controlling the conversation and catching my attention.

“Yes, I have said I would make myself available to Izac, but I’m at your disposal as always.”

“You have, by accident, been a great boon to the family. So, whatever is within my power regarding a new home, ask it.  With my wealth…you have a lot of scope to express that Toreador blood of yours.”

Ambrogino had mentioned something of this.  Still, I instinctively rubbed my scar, the pain of losing the Pyrmont house was a physical thing.  I tried not to show it, but felt sure he’d seen something in my expression.

“I could get you any mansion you desire.”

“Do you think the loss of the house means a loss of the…domain?” I had to face the Prince at some time.  It would be good to show I hadn’t lost everything he’d given me.

“You can go back to Pyrmont if you want,” he said, and he seemed disappointed I didn’t want a place within his domain.  In truth, I knew of a beautiful old house in Birchgrove with a basement…”it would just be a different house.”

“That is what I had in mind.”

“And instead of one of the older houses, think something bigger, more luxuriant, newer, worthy of a Toreador.” More like the empty mansion we now stood in? Pristine, perfect, and hollow.

“I have something in mind. Thank you, sir.”  Still, it was good to know Lenny and I would not be without a home.

“Well, when you have made up your mind, come back to me, and we’ll hash out the details.”

It was his turn to change the subject, and naturally, he brought it back to the previous night.

“So, how did it feel not being in control of your body for that short while?”

Shortwhile.  It was a lifetime. 

“Harrowing.  I reached out to people and was abused, or ignored or…worse.  Luna heard me and came through.”

“I’ll be having a chat with Stallion about leaving his siblings behind.” That was an interesting change in subject.  Obviously, it was something he saw in Stallion’s mind.

“Did he tell you about his little…joke?” I found it hard not to be bitter about that particular event. It had been the act of a bully to pick on the helpless, not that there was any point in bringing it up with Stallion now.

“Yes, I did see that.  He will be paying for that.  One day he will owe me a boon.” 

That would have to do, “I shall leave it in your hands.”

I’d revealed the stake to confirm my tale.  Dominic reached out to take it from me, and I shied back, returning it to its hiding place. 

“I understand, it holds a lot a memories for you,” he said and withdrew his hand. 

“Would it be…useful to you?” I didn’t see how, it was just a piece of wood. But it was mine.

“No, it will just be put with the others…for next time it’s required.  You understand why it was done?”

A flash of memory, Stallion with the stake in hand, him plunging it into my chest and the pain as he failed to pierce my heart. Bruce… the shotgun… I had to turn back to Stallion… begging him to finish what he’d started…

“I understand…I understood at the time…I didn’t like how it was done…”  and now I couldn’t help but wince, my hand on my chest.

“It was done with a distinct lack of grace.  I am certain it would have been a much different experience if he’d just hugged and staked you.”
I shook my head.  For all his bluster about being a stud, Stallion was backward regarding physical expression, “Stallion is not physical that way.  More’s the pity.”

“So, accidentally created a portal to the afterlife. Not bad for a young one.” Dominic mused with a hint of humour.  I could see, decades from now, this would be his Elysium conversation starter. How his idiot, adopted childe, a few weeks old opened up a portal hell.  Given the distance of time, I could just about see the humour in it. Maybe then I would laugh along.

Not tonight, though.

“It seems so,” Though it made me wonder, “Would your family teach me Necromancy?  I don’t think I can do much more on my own and I’d be afraid of doing something foolish like Stallion did with his thaumaturgy.”

He became serious, thinking over the idea, “The family likes to keep its secrets close. Though you did help my uncle, and he did seem predisposed towards you. There’s not many vampires who meet my Uncle and live.”

“He was…my savour.  I would be dead…or worse, without his intervention. Still, he is a terrible and fearful being, and he was personally awful to you.”

“I took the right lessons from it,” he replied quickly.  Yes, he had, but it had hurt too.  

“That’s all we can do, isn’t it?  Learn the lessons life gives us.”

“When I was growing up and making my own fortune,” he started explaining, ” I didn’t use my family’s money to get it.  Others in my family usually do.  Take a little, build on it and grow.  Some rely on it a little too much. I went through my own trials as you will yours.  Just be aware, Ambrogino might not give away any secrets. I would be cautious.”

“Very well, “ I was disappointed.  Still, he was proud of being a self-made man.  That little snippet would be useful to remember.

“I will be visiting my Uncle later tonight.  My aunty specifically.” It wasn’t exactly off-topic.  I wondered if it was some sort of invitation.

“I’d be happy to go with you if you don’t mind.”

“I won’t be going straight away.  I do want to revisit the morgue.  It is a hobby of mine.”

“Very well,” after the morgue, which suited me fine.  Besides the tailor, I had at least one other stop for this night. Poor Lenny had been waiting too long to hear about our collective fate.

Stallion now roused himself from his chair.  He looked lost, sad and perplexed. I was about to ask him about his night (I had to fact-check against his memories) when Izac found the three of us chatting.  He didn’t look pleased that we seemed so companionable but said nothing.

“Izac.  Rain, Izac here deserves congratulations.  He survived politics with the Prince.” It was like a proud employer introducing his newest and brightest staff member to a shareholder.  Izac gave me an intense stare.  I didn’t need his reminder. His story was his story to share as he chose.

“That is something to be commended for.  The Prince is a canny player.”

“My Uncle did describe him as a snake,” and there it was that description again. Still, I couldn’t fault someone who used words and diplomacy over brawn and violence.  For me, it would have been easier if he had.

Izac looked like someone had slapped him with a wet fish, surprised by a revelation, “I understand.”

“Izac, what brings you to me right now?” Dominic asked, not with his firm but caring Father persona used on us siblings. Here was the businessman speaking to his subordinate, “You’ve recovered from last night?”

“As much as I ever will.”  

This sounded like a business talk that didn’t need me, “Would you like me to leave and let you two talk?”

“No, I was just seeing where people were.  Remind me Mr Giovanni, when was that booking made for?”
“At the restaurant? Ah yes, I believe I made it for Nine-thirty tomorrow night.” And now I had the time and location of the meeting.  Maybe Izac wasn’t as shabby at the scheming as I’d thought.

“Izac, the werewolf thing that’s happening.  When does it start?”
“They have approval, it will start on their schedule. I don’t really know.” Werewolf thing?  He’d gone to seek approval from the Prince on behalf of his werewolves.  Very impressive. Still, it had cost him his heart.  I hoped his werewolves appreciated the sacrifice.

“Did they give you any indication as to how long they would be at each other’s throats?”

“They’re always at each other’s throats, but as I understand it no more than a night.”

He went on to explain that one of the tribe would be appointed the Ragabash, a master of ceremonies, a trickster figure.  He’d hide an object somewhere in Sydney, and their greatest warriors would get first chance to find it.  After a specific time, the rest of the tribe would attempt to locate the item. There’s a lot of honour and glory to be won by finding the item. If it is not found in an allocated time, the glory goes to the Ragabash himself.

It sounded like fun, though I wouldn’t want to go into combat with a tribe of werewolves for possible honour and glory. As if reading my mind, Izac continued, “Do not get in their way.”

“We had a deal, “ Dominic added, “and as our ambassador has said, as long as you don’t get in their way… Still, I am in a sombre mood for the morgue, so I don’t intend to be in town.”

With Dominic’s mood, the conversation petered out. Izac looked thoughtful as if planning his next move.

“Do you have anything in mind for tonight Izac? I’m free if you need anything.”

“I appreciate that, but this is something I should probably do alone,” he replied, and I felt the sting of his rejection.  How does one prove themselves if no one gives them a chance?  Still, there was the next night.

“Don’t be so rash to turn down help Izac. You forget those ghouls had dossiers on you,” Dominic suggested, and my ears pricked up.  The feral ghouls had been spying on Izac?!

“The ghouls?” I asked and noticed Stallion’s face as he tried to make sense of what we were talking about.

“Yes, the ones that were kidnapping lonely vampires and using them like a blood bag,” Dominic explained. None of this seemed to make any sense to Stallion, who just sat listening bewildered.  

“You were next in line for that?!” I turned on Izac.  This is exactly why we needed to work together, alone we are vulnerable.

“He wasn’t next, but he was on the target list.” 

Well that was it, “you can’t go out walking the streets alone, Izac.”

“I suppose I could go out with you,” Stallion now entered the conversation for which I was grateful.  If it came to a fight, I might not have been his best chance, but Stallion could be a formidable ally.

“Take someone,” I urged, only to make Izac grumble.

“What?  Someone to walk me home?” He replied with a good dollop of Luna’s sarcasm.  He was learning.

“All I’m saying, Izac, is last night you pulled off some dangerous politics.  Maybe tonight take it easy and maybe don’t go alone.” Dominic said with all the calm assurance of his station, and Izac finally relented.

“I promise, I’m not up to any shenanigans.”

“You should be celebrating.  You had a major victory for your werewolves and yourself.  Enjoy yourself.” Now that was something I could get behind.  This life had been too many awful incidents and not enough enjoyment. Something I was hoping to rectify in time.

 “Humph, funny.” Izac grunted before changing the subject, “do you think I could get Bruce to pick me up?”

“Bruce is a busy man, and he usually has a nap about now for the evening.”
“You don’t want Bruce,” I warned, gaining the attention of Stallion.

“Why? What’s wrong with Bruce?” He asked almost defensively.  Of course, that memory would have been wiped.  You can’t blackmail someone who has no guilt over the event.

“There’s nothing wrong with Bruce, that’s why I hired him,” Dominic replied.

“Ah, Mr Giovanni, maybe this isn’t the time, but there was an incident last night,” I looked at Stallion, “that Bruce was involved in.  Are you aware?” I glanced back at Stallion. It was clear all this was going over his head, but Dominic followed along enough for me to feel confident that my message had got through.

A light footstep up the marbled hallway caught all our attention as Luna finally joined the rest of the party.  She seemed more composed than she had all evening.  Putting aside the attempted blackmail, I turned my attention to her.

“Luna, talk some sense into Izac.  He shouldn’t be going out alone. Those ghouls from last night had reports of his movements and were planning to make him their next meal.”

“I know,” She replied quietly, coolly.  Once more, I felt the stab of exclusion.  Was I always going to be the last to know?  Then I remembered Stallion’s lost expression.  

Great.  In the dark with Stallion. 

“I’m going as far as the Crowbar…across the road really,” Izac said, “it’s not that far.”

“It’s alright, I’m going with him,” Luna stood by his side and though one problem was solved, the issue of Luna’s sudden coolness was a real concern.

“Good,” I added, feeling the topic slip away, “keep your phone close.”  Luna gave me a look, bemused and dismissive.

“Will do.”

Sigh.

At the mention of Luna’s phone, this sparked around a paranoid phone tag from Dominic.  Izac was safe.  With his Nokia from the late nineties, no one could pinpoint his location.  Both Stallion and I had burners given to us in the recent past.  Luna displayed her early generation eyePhone, and Dominic shook his head.

“No, no, no.  May I borrow that, please,” he held his hand out for the phone, and Luna obligingly handed it over.  He flicked out the SIM card carrier, lifting the wafer of metal and silicon before gesturing to a set of draws nearby.

“You can be tracked on this thing.  Get a burner out of one of the draws out of there.”

Luna quietly complied and the SIM was installed in the new phone.

“If you think anyone is tracking you or your phone calls, just throw the phone away and get another.” 

“Do you have my number?” I asked Luna, and I pulled a pen out of a pocket to write it on her hand.  She looked at me with such disdain that the pen disappeared in shame.

“You can just tell me. I have a good memory.”

I told her my number.

Izac called for a taxi and it wasn’t long after that both he and Luna were heading out the door.

“Don’t forget my car,” Dominic called after them as an afterthought.

“Yes, Mr Giovanni.  I’ll bring it right back.” Izac called before bending down and whispering to Luna.

“I didn’t tell him about the car.”

“Ur…hmmm…who do you think is worse, Bruce or him…” 

“Hopefully, we won’t bump into either of them,” he mumbled a reply, and then they were gone.

Regardless of evil feral ghouls plotting to make take-away out of Izac, they made it to his apartment unmolested.  It was as they’d left it, safe and secure.  Now that Izac felt comfortable, he started pulling furniture away from the small lounge’s centre and setting up a meditation space.

“I’m going to do a ritual,” he said, “something to help.  It’s going to take a while. Keep an eye out?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Luna nodded, “okay.” 

“Thank you.”

Calming his thoughts, Izac formed a space in his mind where the beast held no sway.  Here only his humanity mattered.  The ritual took strict self-discipline and meditation to achieve, but he knew that once complete in his mind, there would be a pillar of peace, a Bardo,  that would help him hold back the beast and hopefully free him of its tormenting voice.  Without his heart, the beast had, had the freedom of his mind.  At least in the meditative shadow of his Bardo, there was silence.

Luna knew none of this.  She studied his preparations and meditation, understanding it was nothing like any occult practice she’d read about. It was more like an exotic discipline that seemed linked to his Children of Osiris background.  She sympathised with that.  She’d tried meditation instead of praying, hoping to gain some peace without the religious links to an uncaring deity. Sitting beside Izac, she closed her eyes and started her own mediation.

Now it was just the three of us.  I wanted to broach a few more topics with Dominic but didn’t feel comfortable expressing them in front of Stallion.  For most of the conversation, we’d spoken as if he weren’t there, but it was becoming clear Stallion was surfacing from the funk of Dominic’s mind wipe and much of what we were talking about had no connection to what he now knew. I resigned to the idea that there would be plenty of time to talk with Dominic when we drove out to see Lucretia later.

“Stallion, what are your plans for tonight?” Dominic asked, and Stallion’s distant stare came back as if he wasn’t sure what he should be doing.

“I don’t know. Work for you?”

“Stallion has been refining his…skills with Thaumaturgy,” Dominic said in explanation. It seemed more for Stallion’s benefit than mine. 

“I’m aware.  Stallion is talented,” I said bitterly. I was not concerned that Stallion could read more than a compliment from my words.

“I’d like you to do something for me, Stallion.  I want you to talk to Bruce, and I want you to spend an hour tonight in one of our more fireproof warehouses.  From now on, instead of practising in the basement of my bar, I’d like you to spend your time there. Lots of open space with little to catch on fire….and private.” The last seemed to hit a cord with Stallion, who agreed wholeheartedly to these new arrangements.

Stallion and I both cadged lifts with Dominic to Leichhardt, where I was given the phone number of Tailor, the tailor.  Dominic picked up a ‘snack’ at the bar and left for Rookwood and his offices at the morgue shortly after.  Stallion slooped off in search of the elusive Bruce, and I made my appointment with Tailor.

I had clear instructions. A new suit design based on the draped or box pleated men’s suits of the 1930s providing a gap in the middle back for concealment of Lupara. The lining was to be black velvet to absorb any light and hopefully add to the illusion of having nothing to hide.  Using the same tricks seen in magician’s tables in the past, I spent some time describing the illusion of hidden box pleats in the back while pinning in the waist at the front.  We spent some time discussing fabrics when a black satin with gold peacock embroidery was finally revealed. Like a magician leaving his best trick to last, Tailor won over his audience.

I also asked Tailor to make a new holster from good, sturdy fabric or leather.  It held Lupara tightly at an angle in my middle back. With the butt facing down, it was easily accessible by my right hand.  I also asked for bulletproof kevlar fabric to be stitched in right above the heart.  As you might suspect, I was very sensitive to my scar and wanted to provide just a little more protection against the future. 

Once my order was in, my next port of call was Lenny.  He’d had a whole day alone stewing over what our fates would be.  It was time to let him off the hook.

HI, WHERE ARE YOU?

COLD.  HUNGRY.

What?  I phoned him instead.

“What’s happening? Where are you?”

“Some place.  Room,” he said, barely aware.

“Focus.  Where are you?” I said, a little harsher than I’d intended, but his decline since leaving the house was disturbing.

“The…hotel room. Where you told me.”

Okay.

“Have you been out at all?  Have you done anything?”

“No. I’ve just been here worrying if I’d ever see you again.” He was heartbreaking and pathetic. It was over time we’d started working on Plan: ‘Improve Lenny’.

“I’ll meet you in the hotel foyer, okay?  Clean up.”

“Alright…” His voice seemed to be fading again, drifting away. I hated it.

“I mean it. Scrub up and shave yourself.  I’ll speak to you downstairs.” 

I arrived at the hotel twenty minutes later, and it was a full hour after that when he walked out of the elevator. He was so scrubbed and shaved his face shone.  His hair was slicked back, and I could see where he’d attempted to cut it neatly at the ends.  At one time he had gone out and bought a new t-shirt and trousers which he now wore, the packing pleats still visible. All in all, he’d looked good.

Tidied up for daddy.  Sigh. Still, it was a start.

We left his backpack with reception, and I took him out into the night.  The Crowbar wasn’t an option for me, so we headed for town and walked down Broadway silently until we found a busy non-descript bar. 

As drinks were ordered, I watched Lenny.  Since his arrival at the house, his gaggily, emaciated form had filled out and with a fresh set of clothes on he looked the suave young gentleman about town. Frankly, what wear the streets had added to his features made him look…rugged, weather-beaten.  The laconic Australian. Still, his eyes darted around as if expecting trouble, and his right leg jiggled nervously on his stool.  Where before, I had felt a kinship to that nervous, hunted look, I now felt pity and disdain.

One night.  It had only been one night.

“Yes, Rain?” He’d noticed me staring, and I smiled sheepishly at being caught so deep in thought.

“You’re looking good. You’re the picture of health. I’m pleased to see you look after yourself”
“It’s all because of you,” he mumbled, and the self-pititing sound of it rankled. 

“You should look after yourself, for you. But I do need you.”

“As I need you…”  I ignored that and gave him a brief rundown of what had happened the previous night.

“Last night…was a rough…that does not do justice to what last night was.  Suffice to say, we have lost the house. A new place is being offered, and until then we’ll stay at the hotel. It will be sorted out…soon. We’re not entirely homeless.” I had promised his security and safety, and here we were, a little better off than where we’d started.

“However, going forward we need to work out our partnership.  What are you going to do with yourself? What do you want to do with your life?”

Suddenly, his expression turned guilty, and he stared at the glass rings on the table, “I do have something to be honest about. Yesterday, I tried to use again, but something weird happened…”

“Lenny…” I hated the drugs and what they did to him. The forgetful funk of nothingness he became on them. I wanted to be so mad, but was being honest, sharing, and I knew he’d never have had to if I hadn’t frenzied and been staked.

“Nothing…I didn’t…feel anything…  It was like I had Narcan already in my system.  You’ve done something to me.  I need that feeling again, Rain.”  I rode his words like a rollercoaster.  The drug had, had no effect…..he still hungered for the feeling.

“No, you don’t,” I tried to take his hands, but he pulled them away.

“I need it..”

“I’m here for you.  I will always be here for you. But I need you to be your own man. For me, because I can’t carry both of us. Last night proved that.”

The nervous shake of Lenny’s legs grew, his shoulders hunched as my words deflected off some brittleness inside him.

“You say pretty words, Rain.  You always knew how to play the room, but I’m not the room.  I need it. Maybe, I can work it off…extend the time between…but right now you keep me clean, right? It’s…organic…natural even. But I need it.”

“And it will be there for you,”  I was now suddenly very aware we were in a public place not protected by Dominic’s rule.

“Last night made it very clear I’ve tried to do too much too fast and…I think I’ve done the same to you. So we need to work out what you’re going to do, as Lenny, not just this person who hangs around with Rain. Who are you going to be?”

“No!” The rejection was abrupt and startling, “I need it, now! I need a bit. I need a drink. I can’t hold back, give it to me…” The words, at first forceful, became quieter…pitiful…desperate. I didn’t need telepathy to see he was only just holding it together.  Still, I tried entering his mind, extending a feeling of calm, the knowledge that seemed to come from his mind that I was there and things would be okay as long as he kept calm and focused.

It worked too well.

“Please, just go and don’t tell me where you’re going, if I know I’ll only come looking for you. I have to…drink you.” He said, all the energy had gone from his voice.  He wouldn’t…couldn’t look at me and just stared off to one side, torn and defeated.  Our hearts may be shrivelled black lumps, but I knew where mine was at that moment. 

 “Thank you for all you’ve done for me, but…we can’t be friends anymore.”

 The telepathic prompt had made him see clearly, and now he was on the edge of a psychotic break, torn between doing what he knew he should and attacking me for what he needed. 

This was very bad.

I took his glass.  Holding it under the table, and cut my wrist and let the blood pour in.  Lenny suddenly grew very still, all his attention on what was happening under the table.  I swirled the glass, letting the blood mix with the alcohol before returning it to the bar table.

Lenny was a statue, except for his eyes that darted from the glass to me and back to the glass again. Then, with a savage swipe that nearly knocked the glass across the bar, he grabbed it up and gulped down the contents, licking the last drops from the rim. Just as suddenly, his demeanour changed.  His body loosened, he relaxed and sat back.  His legs stopped jittering, and his head slowly looked up at me, contentment in his blurry eyes.

“What were you talking about, Rain?”

The forgetful funk of nothingness.  And now I couldn’t blame a street drug from an unknown dealer.  I’d done this.  This was me.

“How are we going to make you a better man,” I said bitterly.

“But you already have.” He smiled lazily, “Just by decanting your…liquid.”

“But you don’t need it if…if you can find something that’s yours.  I won’t let you return to worse than where you were.”

He laughed gently, “Ah, sweet naive, Rain.”

No. No, it wasn’t naivety.  At five, I’d lost everything, and I was given a purpose, hope, something that was mine and couldn’t be taken away.  Magic had been my lifeline…maybe magic could be his too.

“You made me better. You’ve given me clarity.  I can see heroin was a wrong choice. What is in you is much better,” tears started rolling unhindered down his face, “I’ve been this way for a long time…I don’t intend to change. I don’t think I could.”

The reality I’d been skirting for the last six weeks hit hard. Lenny could not be redeemed.  He wanted the hit and didn’t intend cleaning up.  He never lied, but he had been humouring me. And, unless I wanted him to turn into one of those ghouls I’d so casually cleaned off the streets, we were stuck.

“Only thing is, I can’t carry both of us. I was trying too hard for both of us, and it nearly killed me. Desperate to give us a home.  Desperate to start a business so we’d have something to live on.  I can’t do this by myself.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.  For me to be with you I need…it.”
“And it’s there, just like now.”
“Yes.  As long as it’s that way, we can do things together.” And so.  Our relationship was now transactional, “I’ll have your back as…you have mine.”

“So, what are we going to do?”
“I can study those magic rituals you got me.”  

“Okay, “ promising.  This had to be his idea, “Are you getting anywhere with that?”

“Well, normally it doesn’t make much sense, but with…” and he tipped his glass, “the ritual has a rhythm. The shapes make sense, and the patterns…lead to something. It moves and seems to come alive. When you’re inside me, it all makes sense.”

As unsavoury thought as that was, I nodded and accepted.

“I see.” 

Dominic censure on Stallion from earlier in the night now came to mind.

“When you need to practice, let me know. We need to find somewhere safe. Somewhere secure.  I may have an idea where, but I need to speak to a few people first.”

“I’ll try. And if I need a drink, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. And I promise I’ll work at finding us another place. “

“Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“I think having someone like yourself could be very useful. But we have to husband it. You know, work at it. Nothing comes from nothing.  We’re going to make you all that you can be.”

“I could say the same thing about you, Rain,” he smiled, and I finally relaxed.

“Yes.  Lenny, you can be honest with me.  Let me know when I’m…being stupid, okay?”

“Sure,” he thought, “probably, doing that in public was pretty stupid. You might want to do something about your wrist.”

“Ah…” I had forgotten to heal.  I licked my thumb and made the cut disappear.  Magic.

“And you should probably kill that dog. It’s trouble.”

“Oh,” I’d forgotten about poor Blanco.  It was grisly and cruel, but he ultimately got what he wanted.

“The dog… passed suddenly last night.  You don’t have to worry about it.”  The thought of the dog turned my mind to Stallion, practising his thaumaturgy.

“Do you want me to see if I can find you…a tutor?”

He looked a little concerned, “you’re not going to do anything stupid?”
I laughed, “Oh, probably. It’s Stallion.  Do you think that stupid?”

“No, it’s…curious. He doesn’t seem to be the pointy hat sort.”

“From personal experience, I can tell you he knows how to use…what you’re learning.” It was too easy to slip up here.  We had to go.

I gave him money for the room, food and sundries, and we started walking back. Sydney summer nights are meant for walking. We moved in companionable silence. After being imprisoned in my own body, the very rhythm of walking gave a sense of freedom. I think it helped Lenny too.  After his near frenzy, the movement helped him shake off the stress.  Foregoing the public transport, we headed across country back towards Leichhardt.

9.00 pm, 9 hours until Sunrise.  11 days until the Succubus Club.

*****************************************************************************************

Luna’s thoughts:

Mirror

Un-calloused fingers ran along her cheeks. Metallic bronze drowned her taste buds. Unshed tears trapped in her waterline blur any semblance of vision. 

Light fingertips dent slightly into burning skin, causing her to flinch her face away. 

“Eclipse,” she knew that voice anywhere, “why did you let him hit you? It’s okay. I’m here now.” 

You were right there. Less than 60 seconds away. 

Why did you leave me alone that night? 

Why did you let him 

hurt 

stalk 

beat

yell

embrace

Did you let him?

…

Hands travel from the sides of her thighs inching upwards- 

Luna’s hands shot forward, her hands a crushing grip on unknown forearms. 

Rain stares back at her, surprised his usually untraceable hand movements were picked up. Luna wants to say she’s surprised that the advocate for consent has his hands on her without permission. 

“You couldn’t have asked?” She knew what he wanted. It must feel uncomfortable with her hoarding his secrets. 

“I could have.” That’s not an apology. 

Izac stirred, sitting up as Luna threw Rain’s arms from her bruising grasp. 

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” oh so that’s what he’s sorry for, “I wanted to talk to you both. Well, at least Izac.” 

No, she’s seen this before. No closer ties to be built than between a leader and his right hand man. 

“Is there someplace private we can talk?” 

“Why not here?” 

Rain was almost insulted at Izac’s suggestion. 

“I’m sure there is someplace in this villa,” Rain states before leaving through the bedroom door he opened. 

Izac walks forward. His steps faulting when they aren’t accompanied by a complimentary sound of her own footsteps. He isn’t confused by her apprehension. Some steps forward, his fingers lightly glide down her forearm before holding her hand. 

The touch was foreign. The touch was familiar. 

“Come on,” is all he says before walking to follow where Rain leads. 

Three lounges encapsulate an unlit fireplace. Rain sits down on the left couch and Izac releases her hand to sit on the right, facing across from each other. 

Neither seems to acknowledge the conundrum they’ve placed her in. A wrong choice in this etiquette in the past could have cost her at minimum  a beat down. 

They wait for her to sit. To choose. Or are they just waiting? 

Izac shifts from the arm chair to lean more against her side when she sits next to him. 

“I wanted to start off on a better foot,” Rain spoke as he sat in a different suit vest using a more serious tone. 

“You’re lucky I don’t like my beauty sleep,” Luna could taste the animosity tainting the ends of her words.  Rain was doing a lot of speaking and saying nothing. His actions are contradicting his words. Seems it’s annoying her more than she’d like to admit. 

“Would I be able to have my items back?” 

Luna grabbed the papers and then the watch. She could feel its presence knocking against her touch. It left once it entered Rain’s hold. 

“I have realised I’ve been preoccupied with being someone I’m not,” Rain sat forward as he spoke, “I’ve realised there is so much time.” 

An expression of confusion flashed across Izac’s face conflicted with something else. 

“Something’s happened. What sparked this change?” 

Luna doesn’t need to search for the word. The Beast already gave it to her. 

“Liberation.” 

They continued to talk. In this, Luna knew her place. An observer. They were both decades older than her, finding more common ground as Rain gave a glimpse of his past due to Izac and Luna’s raised voices at sunrise. Luna misses the words that upset Izac but he shifts against her, adjusting subconsciously. The motion to reach and hold his hand is so fluid she only registers the contact when he gently tightens his hold and releases as if to reassure her. 

“Ambrogino used the souls attached to me to power the veil tear.”

Luna looked at Rain, “what about your mother?” 

“She’s still with me.” 

Izac eyes snapped to her as she willingly let out an exhale. 

“You’re unburdened now?” Luna almost can’t tell if it was her or Izac who asked the question. 

“Distant. Like a part of me is,” Rain gestures vaguely around himself, “lighter.”

It seems enlightenment is a privilege and a curse. 

“In saying that, you don’t run from the past.” Rain’s eyes were on her as he spoke but he wasn’t looking at her. They weren’t at eye level anymore. 

“The three of us. There’s something,” Rain’s hands pointed to all of them as he stood, tugging on imaginary strings. 

“What happened to Boofhead? We created a pact-“ 

“A pact that makes us safe,” Luna interjected him. Rain’s standing form looked over to her sitting one and she could read the falter of his gaze. She was taking his stage light. 

“Don’t you think it’s something greater?” 

Izac saw the lapse in Luna’s words and picked up the loose ends, “how about a quid pro quo? I ask you a question in return for you to ask me one?” 

Rain returned to his seat, looking at the both of them. “I like the sound of that.” 

“This is an odd game of 21 questions,” Luna rolled her eyes. She felt out of place and she certainly wasn’t the group’s joker. 

“What is it about that watch?” Luna’s only secret from this vampire life that she hadn’t told Izac. 

Rain did not stumble but he was busy ripping up pieces of paper. 

“There’s some questions about this that we can’t answer,” Izac gave her an odd look. Besides her nipping at Rain’s heels, they are by all means close. Demon agreements and all. 

She’s the most vulnerable in this deal. 

She was back in the pews, Rain by her side as a scratching trickled from her head to her ear. 

‘Are you sure you want him involved?’ Does it think she’s self centred or predating on her protectiveness? 

‘I’m all for redemption but I do not need a martyr.’ 

Rain’s movements paused for a moment before producing two pieces of paper towards Izac. He let go of her hand to hold the papers. She knew what was in them. 

Izac’s eyes move fast across Rain’s handwriting. Absorbed by the words constructing sentences, Luna spared a look at Rain. 

His hands continued to rip the paper, only glancing occasionally to Izac and then her. These feelings do not come from the Beast or the voice in the watch, they’re hers. A gut instinct crawled through to her brain, warning her. Dynamics are changing because Rain is changed. Is it even suitable to call him that anymore? 

He wants to be equals but the only place for threes is a podium. 

Izac scoff lightly beside her, his lips mumbling “the false flower” before continuing to read. He only glances once towards Rain but is otherwise absorbed. 

When he’s finished, Izac begins to rip the papers. 

“Well thank you,” is all he says before standing to drop the scraps with the rest of the Will’s remains. 

Oddly, Rain stands as well. He reaches behind himself, accentuating the shotgun on his thigh before pulling out a wooden stake slightly burnt at the tip. 

Luna feels her body tense. 

Chains. 

She’s back in the library, cornered. At least Rain has a shirt on.

 Even though Izac is in front of her, he remains un-phased. 

Luna misses the intricacies of their conversation. 

“Letting Stallion burn me.”

Her eyes trained on that piece of sharpened wood. 

“It’s an experience I would rather not repeat. That won’t work because there’s nothing to stake.” 

“You have no heart?” Rain’s question gathered some of her lost thoughts. 

“Not anymore.” The heart is symbolic. They don’t need it to live but it is what makes you alive. What is a person without a heart? A monster. Izac can imbue all the qualities he wants. Project whatever image that best fits him but he’ll never be himself, never feel safe, until that shrivelled organ is back in its cage. 

The stake shifts in Rain’s hold, the back now pointing to her. 

He’s lost the plot. He’s playing her. She’s scared. 

Her reaction was the same. She doesn’t want that shackle. Not near her, not in her hold, not by her design. Being a liberator is more her style. That’s what this power is for, isn’t it? 

“Please don’t go after it,” it was a weak beg. 

“I’m sorry.” Why did Rain not sound sincere anymore? 

He walks over to the wood, picking it back up. 

Hit me. Hit me. Give me a reason-

“Did you know?”

She gritted her teeth. What, she’s a fucking prophet now? 

“No, I didn’t know.” 

“It’s the price of business,” Izac to her rescue once more. Would he let her drown in flames ?

“With the Prince?” 

Who else? Both of these men could have died yesterday and now they’re conversing in a wealthy man’s lounge room. 

“Not everything. Not yet. We still have time.” Luna lost track of what they were saying but the word time caused Izac to sway, his left hand anxious fretting through his hair. Back onto her feet, her hand settled in the middle of Izac’s shoulder blades before her fingers started to lightly trace his trapezius muscles. He settled, even if only slightly, before looking back to Rain. 

“I need someone to bounce ideas off. I would like that to be you,” Izac spoke more surely than he stood. 

Rain seemed to like this outcome, a sure nod before saying, “I’m here.” 

Satisfied with Izac’s support, Rain’s focus returned to her. 

“I wanna be there for you. You need to choose a cause and when you do, it’ll be altering.” She didn’t even give him a response. Because if that was a rally call it was fucking pathetic. 

Her silence caused him to push further, “you just have to find that passion.” 

Now that was the right word, according to her Beast. It’s voice crawling back at full volume. 

Through Passion, I gain Strength.

Through Strength, I gain Power.

Through Power, I gain Victory.

Through Victory my chains are Broken.

“Imagine restoring Sydney back to the way it used to be. Come on Izac I’m sure you can recall the life this city used to have.” 

Fuck improving Sydney. The fuck has this place ever given her? Restore it? It doesn’t deserve it. Not from her. Can’t restore a past you’ve never witnessed. This shit hole is not worth her drive. 

“I don’t know if I want to watch the world burn or not watch at all.” 

“Brujahs’ bring change! I don’t want to watch this all go to flames. It can be made better.” 

Who are any of them to say this isn’t the best Sydney has been? 

“Okay.” Unconvinced. That’s how she felt. That’s how she sounded. Rain wants a nightlife. He wants art and all its decaying glory. History repeats. 

He’ll be standing back in a field. A lonely flower surrounded by rot. 

“What about Stallion?” Izac chimed in as Luna crossed her arms. 

“I don’t know about him anymore. I think he’s lost.” 

Rain agreed with her, “a lost cause.” 

Izac turned to her, “you’re selling him short.” 

Luna scoffed now, “I’m selling you facts. He asked me to bond with him. I didn’t know if he was flirting with me or giving a business proposal. I don’t think he knows what he wants.” 

Sweet Stallion. Mind control. Brain damage. He can be improved if he can be changed. 

When Izac realised he wouldn’t get any new information or reactions he spoke once more. 

“I have a meeting. I can’t say with who. I want someone I trust on the outside keeping an eye. Would you be able to do that, Rain?” 

“I would gladly help you.” 

A deal struck. 

When their conversation falls to silence, distant voices can be heard from the hallway they entered from. Rain, picking up the destroyed carcass of his Will and Testament, seems to remember something. 

“Excuse me,” he says to himself before taking the paper and leaving. 

Izac and her stand for a moment. The living space is quiet with nothing playing in the background and blackout windows. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m standing,” it was an automated response. Because she wasn’t okay but showing weakness was improbable. Weakness is for the runts of the litter. 

Izac seemed to take it as her pulling away from him, “I’m sorry for last night. Morning? I should know this better after so long.” 

Luna can’t resist the soft laugh and small smile on her face as she spoke, “we’ll figure it out.”

Izac’s hand dropped from messing with his hair, de-stressing slightly now that it was only them. Her smile stayed as she reached forward to fix his hair, more dishevelled than his bed head after his fidgeting. 

A new voice, likely Rain’s, picked up through the hallway. Izac’s eyes shifted towards the doorway. Pulling away from her, he inclined his head to the action down the way. In response, Luna sat back down on the couch. 

“Not coming with?” She liked his company but she’s had enough of family politics. 

“They’re coming here, right?” Like Rain had done to them, why not railroad Stallion and Giovanni? 

“They are?”

“Where else?” 

“Sitting by yourself in the dark isn’t healthy,” she laughed because she’s been doing that for years. 

“Never coughed over tomes in an old dusty library?” She teased him as he rolled his eyes. 

“Not my style.”

“It shows.” 

If this conversation had occurred five days ago that snappy comeback would have sparked an argument between them. Now, Izac gave her a light scrutinising look before walking out of the room and down the hall. 

And then, she was alone. 

Not surrounded by people, or books, or fights. It was the first quiet she’s had in awhile. 

So quiet. 

…

She can still remember how the early morning dew stuck to the unevenly cut grass. The water soaking deep into the black denim of her pants. The sun wasn’t warm. It hadn’t been for two months. 

She brought no bag, laptop or phone. Just her concession opal card and the clothes she’s worn for a week. 

She hasn’t slept in 48 hours. 

People would be arriving infrequently in a couple hours but here it is relatively quiet. She wouldn’t notice them. Her fingers traced along polished marble. Her touch picked up a small amount of dirt but otherwise it was clean. Untouched by time. 

It’s only been two months. It felt like years. She hasn’t slept in days. 

She thought she was out of tears. The water still leaves her eyes but it’s only a couple drops. It’s all she has. 

It’s all she has. 

What do you do when the only thing you have left to fight against is yourself? 

Why want to escape the cage when the metal is so familiar in your teeth?

A drink would fix her problems. Another would heal her wounds. It had for years. 

Drink. Fight. Drink. Study. Fight. Drink. 

She’s stopped drinking. Maybe to feel something. Maybe to feel nothing. 

Maybe to realise the door of her cage was always open. 

She misses her mother. Has been missing her for two months.

She’ll never come back. 

She’s just a name on a marble tombstone. 

She’ll stay a little longer. Just lie down here. She’ll only rest her eyes for a moment. 

“Eclipse…? Eclipse!” 

…

Her phone buzzed, jerking her to sit up straight from previously laying down. 

Izac’s contact brightened her lock-screen with a text message: 

‘Come out, I’d like you to come with me to the apartment. I want to show you something. It will take the night and I trust you to keep watch.’ 

Luna’s mind was fogged. Yesterday felt like it was weeks long. Her response was simple, ‘like the alley.’ 

She followed the voices like Izac had and found everyone in Giovanni’s master bedroom. If she speaks it’s short, if she’s asked a question she responds. 

Giovanni wants her phone? She hands it over. In return, she’s given a burner phone. 

Rain turns to her as she stands beside Izac, “can I write my number on your arm?” 

“I have a good memory.” Good enough for this at least. 

“We’ll be heading back to the apartment. Call and we’ll head to the bar,” Izac states with a nod before Luna follows him back out into the hallway. 

“What do we tell him about the car?” 

Luna loved that Ferrari. Really and she’s never experienced a ‘upset father’ situation but she feels this is as close as she’ll get. 

“Oh um, oh no.” 

“Crap,” Izac laments alongside her.

“I don’t know what’s worse. Being chewed up by Bruce or Giovanni or both,” because both would be the worst possible outcome. 

“Let’s not tell him tonight,” Luna was quick to agree. She wanted a day of something uneventful after a night full of borderline horrors. 

The taxi to their apartment barely costs her anything from her pocket. The studio was as they left it. Izac set out to do what she could only describe as a ritual. Not in the culture sense but a belief sense. 

He spoke some sentences in a tongue she didn’t understand before sitting on the ground, crossed leg, and in a place of meditation. 

He was… building something. Something in his mind palace or on the verge of metaphysical, mixing with discipline based agency. 

When she wasn’t checking the door, or looking for cameras, she sat down with him. 

Luna used to mediate. A lot. It was such an easy way to subvert praying. Stopping it makes one forget how helpful it is. 

Her eyes are closed. Sitting in nothingness, surrounded by nothing. 

“You cut people out who have hurt you.” That voice was not the Beast. She knew it. It was hers. She lets the question spell itself out in front of her. The words are striking white to her world of black. 

Suddenly, red words joined the white. 

“And everyone here has hurt you in some way.” Ah, now that is her Beast. It did not like her praying so meditation would piss it off too. 

She thinks about it. Not directly. She does not want to hear the Beast, or understand it, or follow it. She wants to know what part of her is feeding it. 

… I want them to hurt me. 

I want them to give me a reason. 

Because that’s what every fight needs right? A cause. 

Why can’t the cause be me? 

************************************************************************************************************************

Sanctuary

 It is what you are, Izac. And always will be. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, longing to tear their flesh. Never change that. They are your prey. 

Who can you rely on when everyone has an agenda? We are all using each other for own personal ends I can see it. You told me that words means nothing and that actions are what reveal one’s nature. Being awoken by Rain rummaging through Lunas pockets leaves much to be desired. 

Last night was long enough and tonight we started in earnest. Despite his failed attempt at larceny, he wanted to talk to us, just us. He wants guidance, a sounding board to bounce ideas off. I’m happy to oblige in an advisory capacity, but he seems a man slave to his free spirit and its designs for the future. It would be liberating if it weren’t all so restrictive. 

The way he speaks about the city, he looks back at the past and wants to recreate it. A vibrant place of light and nightlife. Rain made an impassioned attempt, but his words were not reaching his audience. Whilst I could appreciate the ambition for his idea of a better tomorrow, I had doubts in the end result. Luna wasn’t convinced. She doesn’t care for it. I can’t blame her, never experiencing the city as it was. Why care for a city that has done nothing for her?

If I wasn’t aware of the supernatural before tonight, I would’ve thought Rain mad when reading his final note. A demon, inside a pocket watch. I’ve seen far too much in the last month alone to know such things are not only possible but seemingly common. How the two of them stumbled across this thing is beyond me but they seemed tight lipped on the subject, letting me figure it out from the letter myself. They are being watched, by a being with something over their heads. I wonder disposing of it is still his plan, now he has survived his ordeals.

 A fresh start, a new beginning. There is still something there though. The new Rain isn’t exactly the tabula rasa he claims or wants to be… I’m willing to give this a shot. This is an olive branch, a thin one, with a lot of weight attached to it. He can be my eyes on the outside when tomorrow comes. Should he come through perhaps I can trust him more. If word spreads though… 

Whatever the future holds, Rain assures us that we have time.

 Not all of us share that luxury. With my new collar around my neck, I imagine it won’t be long until the prince calls me back for whatever mind game he wants to play. Despite Rains wishes for me to live and let live in this city, that time has passed. Id like that life, maybe with company but I can’t whilst under his thumb. That and a vampire’s life will always ends up in intrigue it seems. Maybe another city, if I can ever let myself. 

Quiet 

Peace 

Sanctuary

 The Beast is silent, at least here, in this place. A haven from everything outside.

The ritual went off well beyond expectations. The pillar: the anchor has been placed. When I had opened my eyes on its completion, I found Luna sitting beside me. At some point she must have got bored of checking the doors for the hundredth time and, what, joined me? Not in prayer as I had with her but in my meditation.

 You’ve been by my side for what feels like so long at this point. As of recent I’ve been more reliant on you to be that. I said to myself would leave the door open for you if you chose to step through. But the cost. The cost of knowledge, of becoming part of this. If the prince finds out, you may well be placed in the same fashioned collar. Or worse. 

It’s dangerous. 

I don’t want that for you.

Notable NPCs

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

Detective Woodman:  NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia.  He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.

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.

Night Rider: Red-haired vampire?  Works for the Prince.

Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)

Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats

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.

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. 

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.

3.40 am, 3 hours before Sunrise.  11 days until Succubus Club

Expecting trouble, they armed themselves with weapons from the back of the SUV. Izac grabbed a riot shield with a claymore attached and a submachine gun with clips. The 9mm rounds gleamed eerily in the moonlight, their silver tips caught the stray beams before being thrust into a pocket. Stallion grabbed a submachine gun and riot shield with his clawed hands.  It was clumsy and awkward, and more than once, I thought nails would snag the safety and trigger. He somehow adjusted and slung the gun on his shoulder away from harm. Luna picked up a riot shield almost as large as herself and a few throwing daggers. Dominic was left without a shield. He picked up a submachine gun and three clips of silver bullets.  I, too, picked up daggers, but only out of habit. Lupara was now in both hands, ready for action, good or bad.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said quietly to Dominic as the others settled their equipment, “I’m not sure why he hasn’t mentioned it, but Stallion met two werewolves in the house earlier tonight.  He didn’t mention their appearance or who they were from, but he seemed very confident they were werewolves.  We may have another group interested in the house.”
Dominic’s response was to pick up a grenade. 

Leaving the car down the street, we started walking towards the darkened house. 

“What do you see?” Izac asked me, and I turned on Auspex. The house was black and lifeless. Dominic used the key, and with Izac in the lead, we entered the house. Stallion moved through the house, checking the lower level before securing the back door. Izac stayed near the front and watched the currently closed door to the basement. I went upstairs and checked that the rooms were clear of unwanted visitors.

Stallion’s room was, as it usually was, a mess of clothes but virtually undisturbed.  My room looked bare without the tree.  It was like I’d already moved out. Beside Lenny’s painting on the wall, there was nothing to say I’d been here at all.  I was starting to get the feeling I hadn’t.  When I turned on the light in Luna’s room, the floor scurried away under the bed and into corners. The whole room was alive with cockroaches, their brown carapaces rasping together in harsh whispers.  Only hours ago, I’d seen this room littered with University studies and laptop but otherwise clean. And if there was a flash invasion or roaches from the sewers, why hadn’t they made home in Stallion’s room or mine? 

I went back through the rooms and looked for more than signs of occupation. In corners, under bedclothes and in hidden places, I found tomatoes with occult symbols cut into them.  The script was gibberish, not meant to do anything but give the impression that something occultist was happening. They were fresh and hadn’t been there when I’d returned to change. They’d had to have been placed sometime this night after I’d fled with Lenny and Blanco.  

Stallion.

I took a tomato downstairs, brandished it like something foul for everyone to see and thrust it into Stallion’s face. He tried to hide a smile.  

“And the cockroaches?” I said.

“I guess they came after the tomatoes,” He said, but he’s a lousy liar.  I had no idea his twisted plans, but I was done with them.

“If we survive this, I’d like you to find somewhere else to live.” 

The others waited in silence. This was not why they were here. I gave Stallion his tomato and joined Izac at the door to the basement.  He was trying to listen at the door.

“I can’t hear anything.  Can you see?” 

I looked past the door and saw the swirling paleness of the breach, but nothing like the bright aura of Francesco or other werewolves.  I shook my head, “I see the breach.”

“Are you going to use that?” Izac gestured with his own weapon at Lupara.  It lay comfortably in my hands, almost forgotten.  It was unreasonably odd how right it felt to hold. 

“I don’t know.  We’ll see, I guess.” I replied in all honesty as the front door rattled.  A barrage of rough knocks, dogged and insistent.  Dominic went for the door as we opened the basement.

It was Ambrogino, followed by the near-silent Lucretia.

“Out of the way, nephew.” He stepped across the threshold, and Dominic scrambled to get out of his way…we all did. By this time, Izac had opened the door to the blackness of the empty basement. Without all our qualms and concerns, Ambrogino strode into the dark and down the stairs.

“What is this…hovel? What have we degenerated to?”  He mumbled, astounded that kin would live like this.

 Dominic followed in his uncle’s wake, and I followed in his. Both of us were curious to find out what miracles were about to be performed.  Izac returned to the front door, aware that visitors may turn up at any moment, and Stallion went to the back. Luna hung back at the top of the basement stairs, preferring to stay by the door, watching wide-eyed. 

Ambrogino gestured to the wall with his blackened hand, his mouth a quiver with excitement bordering on but not reaching a smile. His eyes, too, looked greedily at the place I had inadvertently made thin. This was a rare delight for him, something he had been looking forward to for a very long time.

“You,” Without looking away from the wall. The blackened hand found me, “I am going to need more.”

I knew what he wanted, more of the poor souls following me around, “okay.”

“It is agreed your special one stays with you.  I want the rest.”

“All of them?”  I’d only been made aware of their existence. I didn’t know what that would mean to me,  to Avel or the mute hundreds still behind me.  And it looked like I never would. 

“All of them.”

I hung my head in shame. How much more would I have to give?  What was left to lose?

“Okay.” I nodded.  What else could I do?

He waved his hand around me, and I could feel Avel was behind, nervously making her presence felt as if she were physically there.

 “Now, I begin,” he said and started swaying and moving to the gestures and shapes of the ritual.  Not quite breathing, there was a rhythm and flow to it that was reminiscent of the ebb and flow of life-giving air through lungs. The wall shimmered and thinned, seeming to lose its solidity. I summoned up my necromantic sight as I saw Dominic do the same. Now, the wall was visible, solid as always, but I could also see the wall beyond the wall. Somehow, it was in two places simultaneously forming a bridge between us and the world beyond the veil. 

Past the wall, a vast desert plain, an empty place filled with the bones of giants long past, filled the view to the horizon. It seemed a place without life. I could see swirling motes of colour bronze, angry red and fearful orange.  Suddenly, I realised they were spirits wandering the desert wastes—a wholly inhospitable place.

 Ambrogino’s black hand flicked the wall as if testing something before turning away for the first time since coming down the stairs.  His yellow-rimmed eyes found mine, his clawed hand reached out and, like a drain, started sucking down all the ghosts of my past.  Down through the centre of his hand went the fear and hatred, the bitterness, and loss of hundreds of family, neighbours…fellow Bosnaks.  People I’d never met and would never meet were whipped away by a necromancer’s gesture.  When the stream thinned to a trickle, I felt hollow, bereft of something that had made me who I was for all my life.   I wanted to cry, but at the moment, I felt incapable of such a simple feeling.  Instead, I just stood, swaying on my feet as Ambrogino turned back to his work at the wall, where my usefulness was now spent.

At the top of the stairs, Luna could see none of this. To her, a sickly, gaunt man was just waving his hands around. The most pertinent things to her were the two voices in harmony calling for her.

Go to your room…Go to your room!  Both the beast and the Watch insisted like scowling, angry mothers.  Leaving the theatrics of the basement behind, she headed towards the front door.

“What’s happening?” Asked Izac as she walked past to head upstairs, “Hey, where are you going?”

“My room,” she replied with a bemused expression. Turning away, she climbed the stairs.

“We have to keep an eye out…fuck!” Torn between watching the door and supporting Luna, Izac wavered.

“Don’t worry, “ Stallion called, edging closer to the back door. “If she sees anything, she’ll scream.” 

With each step up, Luna could feel the wrongness of the house.  It didn’t seem to sit right anymore.  Something else had taken residence. She was evicted.  At the top of the landing, she turned towards her room, straining to hear and detect anything unusual.  She was now at her door, her fingers searching for the light switch.  The light flashed on, illuminating the ordinary room with white light.  Still, her senses failed to pick up the stench of roaches, the rasping of their carapaces, or the darting of their movements.  Solely focused on the arcane miracle happening below, she failed to see the mundane one manifested by Stallion in her own bedroom. 

This was odd, she thought,  the voices didn’t usually steer me so far wrong.  

All who were in the house now became aware of a whining sound—human voices in a sustained sound of pain and loss. The keening was so poignant that it seemed to not have a source but started at our very ears, but to everyone, it was clear it was coming from the wall. 

Ambrogino had broken through.

The old man reached up for the top right corner of the wall. As if tearing off old wallpaper, he brought down the wall, bricks, stone, and earth, folding it like discarded paper. The world beyond opened to everyone—a window onto a world that only spirits and a few crazy necromancers got to see.

“Now, my childe,” Ambrogino turned to Lucretia, who had been there the whole time but no one had noticed her presence, “go find what we need.”

Lucretia skips into the wall and out into the desert with a childish glee.  Too soon, she was halfway out to the horizon, near the giant bones.

Izac couldn’t contain himself anymore. Keeping one eye on the front door, he headed up the stairs to find Luna.  He found her standing in the doorway to her room, looking around.

“All good?” He asked from the staircase.

“There’s something wrong with my bedroom,” she replied simply, but she just kept looking around, seeing but not perceiving.

Izac walked up beside her and peered in.  The cockroaches were plain for him to see, scuttling around the light fixture, bunched up in the corners, hiding between books.  

“Bugs.  Lots of bugs.  Everywhere. It wasn’t like this before.”

Now, it was clear to Luna, “no.”

“I didn’t take you for a bug person.”

“Definitely, not a bug person.”

Down in the basement, the place with few cockroaches, Ambrogino twinged. He turned and looked at Dominic and me as if he were really seeing us for the first time.

“Why are you armed?”

“I was expecting trouble, uncle,” Dominic admitted, “and we didn’t find any.”

“What kind?” I had to think. We had mentioned at least Franceso to Ambrogino, hadn’t we?

“Werewolves, uncle.  You remember?” And it was clear that Dominic, too had picked up on his uncle’s forgetfulness.

“I wasn’t paying attention, “ the elder quickly countered, “thank you.”  Thank you?  From Ambrogino? “How long ago?”

“I think it was two nights ago when the Spiral Dancer appeared…” Dominic also seemed unsure. It had been a very long night.  As it had been possibly my last, I knew exactly how long it had been.

“Earlier this night, sir,” I interrupted, “the same night.”

“The black spiral dancer’s name of Francesco.”

“Yes.  He arrived just after we cleaned out the feral ghouls.”

“We have a group of black spiral dancers out of King’s Cross.”

Ambrogino didn’t seem interested in Francesco, “Is there anything else?  Call the others down.” Dominic scampered away to do his Uncle’s bidding.

He turned his attention back to me. “Rain. This was yours?” 

Was. If there was any farther to fall…

“Yes, sir.”

“You know what this means?” He pointed to the portal.  I knew this was coming, but I hoped to mitigate the complete disaster of losing my first and only haven.

“Yes, sir,” for the second time in as many minutes, I was losing something that meant more than just its material component.  The Prince himself had given me this house.  I’d decorated and made it home, if only for a few weeks.

“Please, sir.  I know something of Necromancy.  I can…help?   Maybe as a…gatekeeper?” I held out one last hope that I could hold onto an illusion of ownership of what had been mine.

His yellow-rimmed eyes stared at me as he’d done in Time Out, and I knew he was examining me, looking for something worth keeping around. I held my metaphoric breath and prayed he’d see more than I did. 

“You’ve already helped enough,” he said almost kindly, almost, “your foolishness has given me this… “ He gestured again to the gateway, “…to the other side.  It will help me find what I am looking for.  For your part,” he said to the collected group of past residents, and spectating Giovanni, “the best thing for everyone concerned will be for you to go away. Will you make the right decision?”

He was being polite.  There was no decision.

“Yes, sir. “ I’d taken so many hits that night I could no longer comprehend the pain.

“I’m sure my nephew has enough money to find you something else.” Again, the almost kind. 

The others’ attentions were torn between the small scene between Ambrogino and me and the huge hole into another world behind him. I admit, if I were them, it would be no contest. Where there had been a two-hundred-year-old brick wall was a portal to another place. Winds whipping across the desert scene and the feeling of depth to the horizon were the only things that showed this wasn’t just an exceptionally good artwork by Lenny.

“What the fuck is this?” Izac’s expletive echoed around the bare basement, cutting the atmosphere like a chainsaw.

“This is Hell,” I said as Luna leaned into Izac’s side. “A hell. It’s an afterlife.”

Izac looked around the room as if looking for the projectors or cables to the giant flatscreen monitor, it was incomprehensible to him.

“Giovanni, have you been pulling out leg this whole time?” Izac craned around to a very stoic Dominic.

“No.”

“An afterlife.  You mean there’s more than one?”

“Um-hmm,” Luna confirmed as succinctly as Dominic, “do you know what the afterlife is?”
“I understand the concept, but not that there was more than one of them and that you can reach one through your basement!” It was gratifying to see I wasn’t the only one whose worldview had been turned upside down that night.

“Even Christianity has…three afterlives…depending on who you are,” I added quietly to be collaborated by Stallion of all people.

“Yeah, heaven, hell and…purgatory, right?”

“I was pretty atheistic back in the day so…” Izac began, until Ambrogino’s black hand landed heavily on his shoulder.  Suddenly he’d moved from in front of me to behind Izac at the back of the room.

“Sorry for talking too loud,” Izac said in an attempt to appease the old man.

“It wasn’t the talking.  The rudeness…the ignorance.  I will show you what’s on the other side.” Ambrogino’s black hand took a firm grip on Izac’s arm, but Izac stayed where he was.

“Sorry. What do you wish to show me?”

“The other side.”
“Would you be surprised if I said I was a little bit apprehensive?”

“I don’t care.” Ambrogino tried again to throw Izac, and this time Izac let him. One moment, he was across the basement by the stairs. The next he was through the wall. 

In the view provided by the wall, Izac was already tens of metres away, standing on the hard, heat-baked sand and rock, looking out over the windswept plain. Though there was no sun in the sky, the air was baking hot, and the winds buffeted him. This land was the opposite to life. Izac could feel the energies that made him drain away.  He saw the ancient bones of long-dead giants out on the horizon. He spotted the figure of Lucretia walking off into the distance as well as figures in robes carrying spears, watching him.   He turned to look at us, it must have been odd to see a rectangle of dark basement in the middle of a desert.  

“I don’t understand,” he looked around again uncomprehendingly.

“The place is indifferent to you,” Ambrogino said.

“It doesn’t care that I’m here.” A statement.  Few places care if we’re there.

“Are you special?”

“No!” Izac was quick to reply.

He moved to return through the wall and was back in the basement three steps later.  

I think Luna, Stallion, and I all gasped as we saw how the desert had ravaged him. Ambrogino nodded as if expecting the results. Dominic looked on fascinated. Always lean and gaunt, Izac now looked old, desiccated, and drained. Even his hair looked greyer.

“My god, that was just seconds!” I heard myself exclaim.

“What?” Izac said, turning to examine what he could of himself. 

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked, shocked at the difference a few moments of exposure had made to him.

“A little drained, I guess.”

“Drained. Yes, You look drained.”

 Luna turned on her phone camera and reversed the view.

He stared at the image in the camera as if at a stranger, “I suppose this is permanent.” He sounded as resigned and defeated as his visage.

“No.  You need to feed, and you’ll be fine,” Ambrogino assured him, “if you’d spent more time in there, it would have been worse. The dead don’t appreciate the not-dead.”

“Not the living…” Izac stumbled over the concept. “No, we’re not living.” He turned back to the wall, focusing on the ever-dwindling point that was Lucretia: “Is she going to be alright? Is she going to be long?”

“Don’t worry about her. She’s mine,” Ambrogino assured Izac before returning to the subject at hand, “what do you feed from?”

“Animals.”

“There are some blood bags over there I can smell. It would do you good.” If it wasn’t for the coldness of his tone, the words seemed to be that of caring old Italian grandfather. It had nothing to do with care, but practicality.

“Ah…” I turned to Izac, knowing his predilections, “…the ones from the club.”

Izac glanced over at the bar where the boxes of blood still sat and shook his head, “it is not my way to…feed from those bags…that type of blood.”
He now gained Ambrogino’s full, scritinising stare, “what are you?  You’re no rabble-rouser like that one, barely containing her fire…”

Izac glanced over at the Nosferatu tunnel.  Seeing nothing, he turned back to Ambrogino.

“May I step closer to you? You never know who could be listening.”

“No one will be listening,” Ambrogino assured him, and Izac took a breath.

“Child of Osirus,” He said blankly.  A long-held secret that meant nothing to me. They weren’t one of the twelve bloodlines of Caine.  I glanced at Luna to try and make sense of what he was saying.

Dominic scoffed as Ambrogino seemed a little disappointed.

“What a waste.  You could have been so much more.  You were pranced up, dolled up, and turned loose, and you don’t even know it. You definitely won’t be about to kill me.  You may get my nephew in a moment of weakness, but…”

Izac killing us?  That didn’t seem right.  That didn’t keep in what I knew of the man.
“I have no intention of killing anyone.”
“It is not about intention.  It is what you are.”

“Izac?” Now as dumbfounded as he had been over the wall, I said, “what is he talking about?”
The glance I received was as shocking as if he’d said it was all true.  The guilt and shame were so heavy his eyes couldn’t hold mine before falling away.

“I am what I said, a Child of Osirus. A group thought extinct, at least here. They want to…redeem kindred.  We don’t see people as….there are other ways. That’s what the animals are for, they’re an alternative.”

“What has that got to do with killing?” I asked. Sure, the Vegetarian Vampire.  But didn’t that mean other Vampire life too? “Surely killing is the opposite?”
“Until recently, that’s all I thought it was.  We don’t make vampires, we take vampires in and try to bring them onto the path.”

Luna, beside him, stiffened as she realised what Izac was saying.  Though she tried to make her face blank, the rise in colour on her cheeks, the flash of fire in her eyes and how she eventually turned away from him showed she was angry, disgusted and betrayed.  Sometimes they don’t make it onto the path…

Izac, too, turned away, his shame deepening in response.  

“Now,” Ambrogino said after we finished our conversation, “you will get your things and leave my place. I have much work to do. I will give you until sunrise to take what is yours. Everything left belongs to me.”

Stallion didn’t hesitate to start back up the stairs and pack his duffle bag.  Luna and Izac stiffly followed a coldness growing between them.  He grab his bag still in the lounge upstairs and she picked up her copy of the Book of Nod  and left the rest for the cockroaches. They met at the bottom of the stairs, neither able to make eye contact.

“Ur…Luna.  It’s not what you think,” Izac tried to explain. 

Luna just moved past him, “probably not.”

As for me. It had been only words before, now it was real. I barely found the strength to drag myself up the stairs, Lupara hugged tight to my chest.  I never saw the gallery as I left the basement and headed upstairs, my eyes downcast and unblinking. I reached my room and looked around.  I couldn’t take Lenny’s mother and child, where would I hang it?  The tree was safe for now, and the only thing in the room of any significance was hanging in the wardrobe.  Still in its black suitbag, my outfit for the Succubus Club hung.  I took it and left.  There was nothing else.

Once we’d all left the basement, Dominic finally took a moment to speak to his Uncle.

“Uncle, apologies for the interruption,”
“Nephew,” the old man replied coldly.

“Having you here has been a real opportunity to further my studies.  Would you be willing to teach me on another path?”
“I will assist, “ Ambrogino agreed tentatively, “but only through proxy. When she comes back, she will teach you, she’ll be staying here. I have other places to be.”

“Of course, Uncle.  When I first found out about this breach the first thing I did was to contact Venice.”

“You made the right choice. Luckily I managed to stop that message.  The rest of the family do not know about this, only me. It’s mine, not yours.”

“Yes, Uncle.” 

“But, outside of your request and what I will ask of you, I will allow you one boon.  You can hold onto that for as  long as you.”

“Thank you, Uncle, “ Dominic accepted gracefully,  “Uncle, I have retainers here that have access to my resources.  This is a way to get in contact day or night,” and he passed his Uncle a burner phone.

“What…is it a handheld torch?”
“It is a device for speaking to those who do not have access to wraiths.”

“And that is not us,” the old man did not touch the phone, and  Dominic returned it to his pocket.

“You can give this to her, I have no need of such a trinket.”

“Ur…understood Uncle.  My  retainers are Bruce and the young Giuseppe if you need anything at all.”

“I don’t care.” The old man’s eyes now took the opportunity to bore into Dominic, “I have come here for what I am after, and it is all done. If you are wasting precious time to…simper…you know, our family used to be great.  We were throat-cutters. We didn’t worry about any of the old clans or feuds, we took throats and drank their blood.  We took it all.  Now we’re just left with…you.”

Dominic, the ever unflappable, the cool man under pressure, swallowed his bile.

“I will strive to do better, Uncle.”
“You will do better.  You will make restitution to Rain for the family.  Don’t make a big show of it, don’t say it’s for the family but you set him up proper.  I’ve already given my gift, I won’t give more than one, especially one unmarked.” That is to say, no one who anyone cares about.

“Certainly.”

“And make sure it’s not one of those shitholes full of goat-fuckers.”

“Understood.”

“Now, I’m going to leave.” And without another word of farewell, he walked into the wall and disappeared into the waste. 

Dominic did not waste time, as suggested by his Uncle, and also left the basement.

I was heading downstairs, where I saw Giuseppe standing at the front door, trying not to get in the way.  He’d seen it all, the perfect bystander unobtrusive and silent.  I turned down the hallway, through the kitchen to Lenny’s studio. His space was a riot of living, and I had to make some sense out of it in the few hours before sunrise. I just didn’t have the strength.  I returned to the hallway.

“Giuseppe, could you help me with some of Lenny’s stuff, please?” I asked as Dominic entered the hallway from the basement between us.  Giuseppe didn’t move but glanced at his Uncle.
“If you permit, of course,” I meekly said to Dominic.  Giuseppe was his ghoul.

“I’ll allow it,” Dominic condescended and made for the front door without a glance in my direction.  Giuseppe loped down the hallway and followed me into the studio.  I closed the door.

“How much do you want me to carry?” He asked looking around at the empty and half-filled canvases, pieces of masonite and sketchpads filled with half-thought-out ideas that would never be completed.

“I didn’t ask you here just to carry things,” I admitted, finding Lenny’s old backpack from the squat and handing it to Giuseppe. I started picking up things and shoving them in as I spoke, “I just wanted a moment in private with you.”

He said nothing, and I daren’t look at him.  After everything tonight I couldn’t trust my feelings, but I was committed to this path, and I wanted to start making the right impression as soon as possible.

“Giuseppe.  In the Time Out room…”

“Um-hmm,” he acknowledged, and I sensed his excitement.  I pushed on.

“I didn’t ask for…what you did…”

“But you enjoyed it all the same,” he said quietly, smugly.  I ignored it for now.

“Out of all the horror and fear and chaos of tonight…it was the most gentle thing that happened.”

“I’ll always be gentle,” he replied and this time I did glance up and realised he meant it. At least, he believed he did. 

“Thank you,” I said, no more than a breath, leaning in so he’d feel the words more than hear them, and I simply kissed him.  It was chaste and sweet in keeping with his childlike explorations earlier than night. I didn’t look to see what effect it had, just stuffed a pile of clean clothes, sketch pads, and the Thaumaturgy notes into the bag.  

One last task. Taking paper and a pencil from Lenny’s supplies, I headed back down to the basement.  It was quiet now, the only light coming from the portal. Ambrogino was nowhere in sight, which I found to be a mixed blessing.  Like a piece of sheet metal in a storm at sea, Ambrogino had been callous and cold, but he had saved my life, of that I had no doubt.  My thanks would have meant nothing to him, only wasted his time, but it did feel like I’d left something undone.  I forgot about it for now and headed for the bar. There were clearly fewer bags of blood than when it had arrived only the day before, and for that, I was grateful. I packed what remained into one box and placed a message on top.

“Under new management.  My apologies for the untimely closure.  Please accept this as a token of my respect, and I hope to see you all soon.” 

The box left in the tunnel just outside the basement, I shut the wardrobe that hid the hole for the last time. 

4.45am 1 hours until sunrise, The Private Villa of Dominic Giovanni. 11 days until the Succubus Club.

The usual tiredness of this time in the morning was overridden by something akin to the bone weariness of a post-adrenaline rush.  The car was silent as Dominic drove us back to Leichhardt to his private villa. Luna and Izac though together in the back, did not share headphones as was their habit but looked out opposite windows.

The car parked outside an ostentatious Roman-style house that must have taken three regular housing blocks to build.  We could almost feel the sun just over the horizon as we sheltered in the villa’s white-walled darkness.  Dominic welcomed us to the spare bedrooms before he retired to the master bedroom.  I took a room and collapsed in a corner, Lenny’s backpack and my suit bag thrown on the unused bed. Slowly I wrote a text to Lenny.

DON’T GO HOME. STAY AT THE HOTEL.  SEE YOU TOMORROW NIGHT.

Out in the hallway I could just see Izac and Luna. At first, Luna looked like she was about to take a room without saying a word.  Instead, she turned and pulled something out of her jacket pocket and handed it to Izac.  A small worn notebook.

He reached behind his neck and pulled up a long chain with a familiar crescent moon pendant.  I knew it well, and in my mind’s eyes read the name Eclipse on its back. With an angry thrust of her hand she foisted the notebook onto him and turned away without taking back her necklace.

“I’m sorry,” a mournful cry broke from Izac just as Luna reached the nearest room. She’d been just about to close the door when it suddenly it flew open and Luna, fuming stormed back down the hallway to the broken Izac.

“We said, ‘No more lies’. You’ve been telling me not to listen to the beast, but it’s only ever been right!”

“I couldn’t tell you.  If I told you, it would put you in more danger,” Izac replied unrepentant.

“You want to protect me?” 

 “Why not? Can’t I have something worth protecting?” This was more like our noble knight, but it did not last long.  “As for the beast, I’ve lost count.  I used to have a life, but within a year of becoming this – I’d killed all of it.  All was killed by me!” He tone changed, full of self-loathing and bitterness I’d never heard from him before. 

“It had its way, and it told me what to do, and I trusted it, and it cost me everything and more. I don’t even know the names of all …those I….” His voice broke as he tried to put words to the memories of his past.

“At least you have a teacher.  Giovanni is a bastard of a man, but at least he tries to teach you and keep you from doing what I did.”

“You beat the statistics.  You survived your first few years.”
“I made the statistics… I’m still aware of all the people I killed.”
“They’re dead. There is nothing that can be done for them now.” Luna said simply.

“They had lives! I had no right to take that from them!  Neither do you, neither does anyone else.”

“Other knowledge of my clan is…more recent.  It seems they’re okay about getting rid of those who…don’t toe the line. I don’t care about that. I don’t want to kill anyone just because they think differently.  If that were the case, I would have gone for Giovanni’s throat a long time ago.”

“If cleansing was the point, you’d be a horrible student,” Luna quipped back, and Izac laughed sadly in response.

“Huh, yeah. I always was. When they brought me in, I had to learn everything from scratch. They… cleansed me, so to speak.  Showed me what to do, how to…”

“That other path you were talking about?”

“Maybe it’s more than a beast because I still have one deep down in there.  I thought it was going to stay there for good, but it’s been coming back recently, and I don’t know why…” his voice seemed to drift as he seemed to listen to something only he could hear.  I knew that look well, from Luna.

Where are the bodies, Izac?

“Your company isn’t helping,” Luna finally said, and I wasn’t sure if she was being self-deprecating or was referring to others: Dominic, the werewolves. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Izac replied, equally confused.

“You said the beast has been coming back recently.  Who have you been with of late?”
We sighed in unison as realisation hit both of us, “I don’t know what you want to do from here.  Keep on or find one of those guns and do away with me. A stake certainly won’t do shit to me now.”

I looked down.  Though the backpack and suitbag were on the bed, Lupara and the stake were across my lap.  A stake? What had happened to our tarnished knight that he had no fear of being staked?  Luna must have been thinking the same, but came up with a different result.  She said nothing but walked over and hugged him.

“What it comes down to is I won’t let them.  If they come after youse, I won’t let them.” He wept quietly as they stood together in the hallway, the sun peaking over the horizon.  Luna just held him tighter, listening to the arhythmic beating of his heart. Suddenly the dam burst, and Izac broke down, his bloody tears spilling down unhindered onto Luna’s shoulder.

G-O-O-D-N-I-G-H-T, his heart tapped out in Morse code.

In the master bedroom, alone in the comfort and security of his own home, Dominic lay wide awake on his bed.  

“…you know, our family used to be great.  We were throat-cutters. We didn’t worry about any of the old clans or feuds, we took throats and drank their blood.  We took it all.  Now we’re just left with…YOU.”

I sat and watched as slithers of morning light broke through the heavy blinds,  brightening the wall opposite my corner.  I sat and thought about all that was lost and gained in ten hours. I listened for the screaming, felt for the anxious tension that signaled their arrival and heard and felt nothing. Inside my mind was silent, like the wastes beyond the wall. Something fundamental, something I had lived since the age of five was suddenly gone. 

Another life was past, and as the sunlight strengthened beyond the block out blinds, a new one was beginning.  Even more than that first evening waking in the sand, I was a new person.

You still have one remnant of what we once were, Said the beast filling the echoing halls of my mind, Not Lenny, we’re making him new, just like us.  There is one more piece that needs to be…changed.

Avel.

No, that time has passed.  Your friend… Past?

Brendan.

Yes.  

It was only a few hours ago I was running out to see him.

In a few hours more, you can do something to him.

That would be against the tenants. To embrace without permission from the elder…

Depends.  You can always use a favour from the Prince.

The Prince….

Our kindly Prince, the sweetest Prince. The Snake.

And I lost the one thing he gave me…

He gave you everything you asked for, and a bit more.

He did.

He’s never done you wrong. In fact, outside of everyone here, he has been your best friend. The False Flower.

I understand what you’re saying, I just wished I understood the Prince’s motives.  If I knew, then I could make myself the man he needed or at least get out of his way.  

He even brought our sire to you so you could understand a little better where you’d come from.

No, he did that for his own machinations. To send a message, to stir the pot to…

For what purpose?  

Who knows?

As the first daylight I’d seen in weeks passed before my eyes climbed the wall and ceiling to fade out short of my dark corner, I put together the pieces of my new life and planned.

5.10 AM Sunrise, The Private Villa of Dominic Giovanni. 11 days until the Succubus Club.

****************************************************************************************

Luna’s thoughts:

Immortality is a Fallacy

Scratch scratch scratch 

Luna is not new to imagining things that are not there. Ignoring hallucinations turned delusions. Sleep deprivation can be a haunting experience if it stretches on too long. 

What resides inside her is stressed. The sun looms too close to the horizon. The house is infested with something that makes it wrong. 

The riot shield is unfamiliar but she’s seen the power of a machete before. The blade wields in her hand easily. Simply a larger hunting knife, for all she’s concerned. 

The bickering, warning, murmuring is loud enough that she misses what the others say. Missing anything her eyes might catch a hold of to produce something meaningful about their surroundings. 

Wrong wrong wrong 

Ambrogino speaks to Rain. 

“You can keep your special one but I want the rest.” 

Rain’s shock is so visceral Luna forgets to school her own reaction. More souls than his mother attached to him? It makes sense, considering what he has told her but how many souls?

How many are all of them carrying around? Or is it only the special flower? 

Giovanni and Rain are transfixed as the oldest vampire makes odd gestures. All she can gather is the occult underlying to the ritual occurring but not on the level of the rest of the vampires observing the scene. 

The room is wrong. 

We should destroy it. 

Hate it. 

God, they won’t shut the fuck up. 

They? 

“Where are you going?”

She started walking? 

“My room.” Izac deflated at her answer. What does Luna say to him? ‘I’m listening to the voices in my head’. Stupid questions get stupid answers. 

Something shifts as she enters. Her metaphorical heckles rise as her eyes catch nothing out of the ordinary. 

Izac’s reached the top of the stairs as she leaves the room, shaking her head like a dog to reset herself. 

“What’s up?” 

“Something’s wrong with my room,” Luna fights the urge to clutch her forehead to make the rattling bearable. 

Izac approaches as she distances herself from the room. The voices unrelenting as they smack against her attention. 

Izac suddenly pulls back from her room, “you’ve got bugs.”

“Ewwwww.”

“I didn’t take you for a bug person,” a comedic response with a hint of genuine curiosity. 

“I’m not,” Luna grovelled as she made her way back to the door of the basement. Arachnids and reptiles were more her type and though she did not distaste bugs as a whole, she does not prefer their company over the choice of other options. 

As she returns downstairs she sees Rain in a frozen state of shock. A completely different look from his one in the Time Out locker. Once she approached the doorway she almost reflexively threw up the riot shield to protect herself. 

The veil had been stripped. A place where life is outlasted by unrelenting carelessness is plastered on what used to be a brick wall. The environment reflects the greyscale monotony of indifference as it is wafted in the desert sands by nonexistent winds battling the wall attempting to collect their life source. 

Ambrogino stood like a vulture, gazing into a forbidden carcass.

“This place is not yours anymore.” She’s quite sure Rain understood him and she’s seen enough territory turn over to know the difference between having, owning, and losing. 

“Fetch the rest of your children.” Dominic was quick to the order. With a flash of his gaze, Luna followed behind Rain as they entered the sublayer of the city. 

Their silence is hushed out by the voices blasting in her head. 

“What is that place?” Izac was the only voice she could make out clearly. 

“An afterlife,” her response was automatic as she tried to stabilise herself. 

She doesn’t pick up Ambrigino moving or the words exchanged as he talks to Izac. She stood still as he threw Izac beyond the veil. 

The voices are so loud. 

Get out get out get out get out

Emaciated. Withered. Decayed.

She had no words for him when he reentered their world from the veil. She showed him her phone camera. 

“I’m guessing this is permanent.” 

Defeated is one word to describe Izac’s tone. 

Ambrogino said blood would replenish him. The blood bags were repulsive to him. 

“What are you?”

Izac had been tap dancing around this question for likely his whole unlife- 

“I’m a child of Osiris.” 

Egyptian God of the Underworld. Giver of agriculture, giver of laws and governance of civilisation. The essence of pharaonic power stems from their constant invocation of the God- 

Let knowledge take her away from here. 

“Pranced up, dolled up and let loose,” the eldest vampire’s informative talk was almost dismissive. 

“I would never hurt them-“

“It is not about intention. It’s what you are.”

Yeah, she’s heard that before. 

That accusation causes Izac to fumble. Rain speaks for probably the eighth time since being released from the possession. 

“I am what I said,” Izac turned from defensive to trying to explain, “a child of Osiris. A group gone extinct. Some form of penance I suppose. We don’t see people as y’know. There are other ways around it. That’s why there are animals. We take people in…”

Cleansings and redemptions.

Who needs a Beast when a fallen angel resides in your pocket? 

What do you do with the unfit?

They kill them. 

Was he planning to kill me?

Izac’s brown eyes found her gaze. 

Look at me wrong and I’ll kill you, bitch. 

Hey girl, how about you look this way?

It’s written on your face. You should be scared. 

“Where’s your poker face, sorella?”

Anxiety to anger. 

Sadness to rage. 

Hurt to hatred. 

Disgust is the easiest emotion to quickly express. 

‘A wolf in sheep’s clothing, you are.’

When will this night end? 

Hurt to hatred. 

Hurt to hatred. 

Hurt to- 

How could she ever hate him again? After all they’ve accomplished? After everything they’ve gained, together?

He waits for her by the stairs. Everyone scattered to grab any valuables before everyone is set to leave before sunrise. 

“It’s not what you think.”

“Probably not.” Before she spoke she could feel it. A wall suddenly stood between them. His or hers?

“I’ll try to explain everything but not right now.”

Everyone sits in silence during the car ride to Dominic’s villa. Luna probably couldn’t listen to music if she wanted to. She’s losing connection between her own thoughts and the voices. 

Melding, mingling, merging. 

Scared dogs are typically the most aggressive. 

Luna doesn’t have the energy to analyse the likely beautiful architecture of Giovanni’s residence. She stares at the ground. Conditioned to not ogle.

Soldiers, decommissioned, walk down halls in uniformed lines innately assigned to bedrooms as Giovanni is the first to enter his own. 

Something is wrong. 

Her boots pivot against wood panelled flooring. Her quick movement caused Izac to pause behind her. 

‘Hold onto that book, something tells me the night isn’t over yet.’ 

Her hand dug into her jacket pocket, wrapping around the paper journal and pen.  

‘Has your name on it when this night is finally over.’

She doesn’t look at him when she hands over the book. 

His hands move to his neck. Luna turns away from him. 

Is this hurt? 

Is she ready to admit that-

Something is wrong. 

“I’m sorry,” is all Izac says before the door to his room closes. 

24 hours changed to 12. When had a deadline been her enemy and not her asset? 

If all they have left is less than half an hour she’ll take it all. 

And then some. 

The door wasn’t locked as she forced it open. 

She slams it behind her, leaving Izac halfway through taking his suit jacket off as she pushes forward. 

“We promised the truth.” 

What do they say about addicts and moving lips? 

“I couldn’t tell you to keep you safe. Why can’t I have something to protect?!” Fight, fight, fight

Ambrogino had said she was barely containing her fire. This isn’t the Beast or the watch speaking. 

“You tell me it lies but it’s only ever told me the truth.” As the words left her lips they felt unfamiliar. Is this what the night has done to her? 

When did it become us? 

“I trusted it and it cost me everything,” he wasn’t wavering from this, “and more. All those people I’ve killed, what about them? All the people I’ve hurt.” 

What was she to say? 

Confrontation granted her the attention she deserved but she was no debater. 

She froze up in every speech she ever had to deliver. 

“They are dead. You are alive.” 

He looked as pained as ever, after hearing her words. 

Maybe this is the rawest ends of their survivors’ guilt. 

Luna will act indifferent to the pain she caused. A mask well formed through years of hard hitting discipline. 

Wasn’t it this very year she promised to get clean? 

“I listened to it. Appeased it. Let it control me. Those people deserve to be alive but I killed them.” 

What do you say in a language you have only ever heard and read? 

“You beat the statistic.”

“I AM A STATISTIC!” 

If he sees her flinch he doesn’t mention it. 

“I was locked in a room,” Izac’s hands moved to his hair. Pushing around the too long strands in a motion of stress or self soothing. “I was cleansed. It was silent but It’s been getting louder. It’s been coming back. I don’t know why.” 

It hasn’t shut up. Luna hasn’t had a moment of quiet. Not when Rain was chained up in the cellar, not when Stallion stabbed himself in the chest, and not when Izac was thrown through the veil. 

‘…you’ve not darkened yet.’

“Maybe it’s because of your company.” 

Did she resemble him, back when they were in the library? 

A mosaic of guilt. 

“Maybe.”

What do you say when you know action is the truest form of intent? 

He doesn’t back away as she steps closer. 

She could speak a sentence as eloquently as Rain. Place words together like puzzle pieces to properly punctuate her emotions. Use persuasion to sway this skewed distribution of emotion. 

Luna knows she is all raw edges. Fabric torn, ripped, shredded and half heartedly stitched back together. She’s all out of seam allowance.  

His reaction could very well be what tears her apart. 

Her hands push the unnecessary barrier of the suit jacket barely staying on his shoulders. 

The second her arms encased him, Izac shattered into her embrace. 

“If there are any more of them out there I won’t let them,” Izac’s voice doesn’t quiver but he leans further into her skin. “I won’t let them.”

‘Why can’t I have something to protect’ is what he said. She doesn’t need protection. 

Maybe she wants his. 

Her arms tighten. She’ll hold him together. Pull him closer. 

His chest beats. Or are those phantom sensations? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t ask. 

This release of emotion comes with no hiccups or shuddering breaths. His bloody tears flowed unrestricted onto her skin and into her clothes. Luna tilts her head tilted back slightly, trying to keep her own tears from staining his white suit. 

It would be a damning metaphor. 

Her blood staining his pure white visage. 

Thoughts from Izac:

Its Darkest just Before the Dawn

Lying, even by omission, is still lying. You told me not to say anything, to hide who I was. Mystery promotes interest, interest promotes attention, attention carries with it danger.

He knows.

A choice between existence and death, his eyes didn’t waver for a moment. I suspected he knew already and was waiting for a confirmation of his suspicions. I had to tell him, both paths meant I wouldn’t leave the gardens, or the borrowed suit. Die honestly.

Child of Osiris.

My life now was hanging in the balance of another. I expected the kill to come quickly, no questions, queries or need for more. I could only hope to hold one last image in my mind before the end. But he didn’t. He processed the information quickly; he believes he is the only one who knows. “This can work” he remarked. The prince offered me something I didn’t anticipate, but laden with  enough menace for me to consider denying it.

“A relationship based on trust.”

Trust? This was a game to him. Either something to use for his own purpose or amusement. There was no place to reasonably say no: one hurdle jumped just to fall at the next. I had to agree. In a motion his hand disappeared in my chest. Playing with his food before the kill I thought. I tried to stop him, but he insisted to be still. “I don’t get to do this every night” with that he took my heart. By force of will was able to shake away going feral.

Vampire hunters…

Indian givers…

I wouldn’t have believed him if it weren’t for Ambrigino confirming it. So, I have to ask: What are your intentions with the Coterie? You see them as pieces in a game, disposable ones no doubt. When they serve their purpose, would you let them be? I’m starting to doubt it. I had loose ends, you waited until I cut all of them before finding me again, will you cut them off too?

What happens when I’m no longer your piece?

I won’t let you. I can’t.

I thought we kept to ourselves. I thought the path you set me on would lead to a better future. But now the future is dark, and I don’t see a path through anymore. With Sarasine holding my own heart against me, he could do anything, make me do anything.

He was right about one thing:

I chose this.

I could have allowed him to kill me in the gardens. Maybe that was the better path. Whatever the case, something feels different. A weight lifted, but a sword above my head. This one is not on a string however, but in the grip of a snake.

“A leopard cannot change it its spots, but vampire can change their blood”

—

I sought to try and forget the meeting with the prince. Mr Giovanni had work, at least his uncle did. Ambirgino; a corpse of a man but from how he silenced everyone around him, including my recently chipper employer, I though it prudent to follow suit.

I saw the others again. I didn’t think I would. I could’ve broke at that point, but I was able to focus on the task, talking in silence to Luna as we drove back to the house. I was relieved to see her again. Rain was different, something about him had changed, starting with the shotgun that sat in his lap, drawing in his blood as we moved through the city streets. Stallion, our enigma, remained the same.

At the residence with piled out and loaded up. We expected a fight with the many visitors to the place tonight, including many werewolves. I half expected to show up to an already fierce confrontation between the different packs and clans all vying for the place.

Nothing.

The streets were empty, not even Rains auspex picking up a ping. There was a job to do though. Overdressed and overequipped we went to clear out the house.

Empty.

Save for the roaches in Luna’s old room, the place was as we left it: even the burnt pan was still in the sink. A short time after Ambrigino and his second headed downstairs with Mr Giovanni and Rain, we noticed the high-pitched keening coming from seemingly nowhere. On request that came from an order, we all headed down.

The afterlife.

It does exist, it is real. As someone who didn’t necessarily believe in life, this was a revelation. I voiced as much, piquing the interest of the ancient vampire in the room. His blackened hand went to wrench me forward through the breach, but I was able to spin away with only a torn collar. He was insistent. He wasn’t asking. I relented.

The place was draining. Standing only just on the other side felt like an effort just to do so. I could see Ambrigino’s second far in the distance, pushing onward into the dust and bones. I thought to follow. But there is not where I need to be, not yet. One thing I understood, which was sobering and chilling: the place was apathetic to me. It didn’t care. I was not worth its attention.

Why should you be?

Stepping back across, the others looked in shock at me. Luna held her phone camera up and I noticed my now gaunt and pale face. Ambrigino, seemingly satisfied  with what I saw or did, suggested I feed on the bags left behind in the basement to regain my pallor. Human blood.

“Not my path.”

“What are you?”

For the second time in one night, I let slip my nature to an incredibly old vampire. His response spoke volumes. Almost turning his nose up at the information, he confirmed what I thought to be a ruse.

Now the others knew too.

Rain looked at me with concern, doubt. Giovanni and Stallion didn’t express much but I could tell they were understanding what was said. Luna looked disgusted.

I had held information from them, for them. A lie is a lie.

Our use at the house was at an end, Ambrigino dismissing us from his new property. Running out of time, we made the quick trip another Giovanni estate to wait till the next night. The others settled in for the day in their respective places. I went to go for mine, but Luna caught me in the hallway. She gave me this book back. She didn’t look at me. I went to return her charm. I didn’t feel right in wearing it considering what had just happened. She turned her back and marched away.

“I’m sorry.”

The door slammed opened as soon as I had closed it. She was furious. Closing it again, she stepped towards me in the room.

“We promised the truth.”

We did, but I couldn’t tell her. Not everything. She would be in danger.

She knows now

“You tell me it lies but its only ever told me the truth.”

It cost me everything. I don’t want that for you. So many dead because I trusted it

She knows now

“They are dead, you’re alive.”

They shouldn’t be. I had no right. No one does

Do you think she will ever understand, really?

“You beat the statistic.”

No, I’m just another one.

You died a long time ago.

I told her what I did

She knows now

She had every reason to leave, to leave me in the dark with my deceit.

She came closer, hugged and wouldn’t let go.

I broke.

This whole night, from the influence of Rains power and his imprisonment in the Crowbars basement. From Giovanni summoning his uncle and thus having me thrown into the afterlife. From Stallions departure with unknown company to us keeping each other’s backs covered in case of new arrivals at the house. From Luna helping mend my hand to her look of distain at me keeping everything from her, now for her to be holding me tighter than ever.

From Sarasine, wishing me a good night from within my own body.

It’s all too much…

                                     —

I can hear some of the others stirring now, moving around. Some of them didn’t sleep. I got some, but not much. I need to talk to them, all of them, just as soon as everyone is up and ready. As much as I don’t want to have them involved, I owe it to them the truth, if they want to listen.

Notable NPCs

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

Detective Woodman:  NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia.  He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.

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.

Night Rider: Red-haired vampire?  Works for the Prince.

Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)

Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats

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.

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. 

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.

2.50 am, 4 hours until Sunrise. 11 days until The Succubus Club.

The Veil was lifting, and something was coming through. I didn’t think it was the bane; it was already inside me, and nothing but Avel had seen me. 

I thought she was, anyway. 

Regardless, Giuseppe obviously knew what was happening, too. His nervous tapping at the door had turned into full-blown pounding and wailing.  I needed him to be calm if we were to make it through whatever was happening.  I reached out to his mind and projected an aura of calm and the image of him taking my hand.  He stopped his activity at the door and turned to look at me, but instead of joining me in my corner, across from the door, he stayed in his and waited. 

At least he was calmer. He was going to need to be if we were to survive.

From the melting wall, two figures were visible.  A tall, gaunt one and a smaller one standing behind.  As the forms became more distinct, so did their voices.  One was old, worn, and weathered sounding, with too many lifetimes of speaking through parched vocal cords.  The other was lighter, feminine and almost silent.  If she hadn’t sighed, I could have believed her mute.  Slowly, their outlines gained substance and details started filling in their shadowed forms.  The man, for the taller, was indeed the awaited Ambrogino, was dishevelled, parts of him seemed to be decaying as I watched him step into the freezer and took in the scene. The other was a woman, young but with a family resemblance to the ancient beside her. 

 

Ignoring Giuseppe for the moment, Ambrogino bent down and examined me. His gaze was cold, but the intelligence behind them was sharp.  He looked intently into my eyes before sniffing the air around me. He held my face in his hand as if I were a child and opened my jaw. He…pulled out the tongue, carefully examining the fanged end, and smiled. His teeth, all weathered, stained, and cracked pieces of marble in his ruin of a mouth, his vampire fangs broken, split into four.

With the evidence of his eyes, he now turned his attention to Giuseppe, still cringing in his corner.

“Speak,” The elder said, and the power emanating from that one word made me want to speak.  Giuseppe didn’t have a chance. He told them about the breach in my home, the bane and subsequent frenzy that had led me here.  He even admitted to the molestation, which the older man waved away.  Unmoved, he turned back to me.

“I see the problem,” he said quietly to me in a richly accented Italian, “it will only hurt a little.”  Taking my chained arm, he bit. I had been expecting the horror of the Giovanni bite,  even braced for it. But the searing pain and the feeling that my life was being drawn away did not come. Instead, it was more the jab of a large needle, a pinch, nothing more.  Neither did he drink; at least he did not drink my blood but seemed to gain something else from the bite.   Releasing my wrist, he spoke to Guiseppe.

“Child, Lupara.” 

I didn’t know what he meant, but Giuseppe did and quickly stood and slid open the now unlocked door.  He ran as if fleeing, and I was left alone with Ambrogino and the mysterious woman. For her part, she said nothing, just watched her elder and examined me as if his student or apprentice, learning at her master’s side. I, too, watched everything, listened to everything.  This was either a pivotal moment or my last, and I didn’t want to miss any of it.

A few moments later, Giuseppe returned with a plain, well-worn, sawn-off shotgun. Even the stock, removed to create a grip for a single hand, was worn smooth. He handed it reverently out to his Uncle.  With a hand clawed and black like I’d seen Dominic’s once look, Ambrogino reached out and pulled out the stake.  I gasped as if desperate for air but needing none.  I could feel again. I could move again. Suddenly, I slumped in the chains, no longer held up by the rigour mortis of paralysis. Only my fear of missing anything the two strangers did or said stopped me from breaking down and crying.

“You have a choice. Do you want that thing?” the old man asked dispassionately as if asking the question from a prepared legal statement, his eyes boring deep into my mind.

“No, I do not want the bane.” I cried in relief of speaking again but also in fear of this man who now stood over me.

“Good.  You will enjoy the first gift I have to give,” He said, grabbing the tongue with the gnarled and blackened hand.  He started pulling, and something deep inside my torso caught.  I couldn’t help but cry out as I felt the thing clawing for purchase on my insides, embedded as it was in my stomach. He gestured with his good hand, and slowly, the thing tore away inside me and was pulled out my mouth.  I could see the skin of my arms and chest returning to their usual pale white.  The bane, too, became translucent as if only contact with me gave it any substance.  He then reached for the gun and slowly loaded it with the bane.  When he was finished, the tongue that had been the bane manifest was gone, and the gun remained. He handed it to me. 

“This is yours now. This is your Lupara.  You need to use it.  It is the second gift I’m giving you.”

With shaking hands, I took the weapon, careful to keep my fingers away from the trigger guard, the double barrels pointed at the floor. He nodded knowingly as if he already knew I could handle the thing. I said nothing and let the questions circle in my head as I continued.

“The third gift.  You have an opportunity to overcome that fear of yours.  What was in you is now in that,” He pointed at the gun, and I lamented internally. I had tried, I had trained with multiple guns and become proficient with them, and yet, the fear remained and the voices haunted me. I did not want to disappoint the man who had just saved my life but I was at a loss at what to do with the thing.

“To wield it effectively, you must give it some of your blood.  If you do, you will see spectacular results against supernatural, non-mortal beings, but you have to use it.” He stressed, and I could feel the weight of that word.  It was part of me, and like my hands, arms and legs, only I could use it. 

“And feed it every time I use it?” I asked, desperate to understand this new terrible extension of myself.          

“Oh, you can use regular shells in it, but why would you? It would be like using a battle axe to open a door. Use it as it’s intended.”  I didn’t understand, though images of lunatic hotel owners sprung to mind.  For once, I would have to put my faith in something and trust in what Ambrogino told me.  I nodded.

“Now I want payment for that service. It wasn’t as easy as I made it look.” He stepped back as if sizing up my ability to pay. Though I had my voice, I was still chained. He could take whatever he wanted, asked for anything, and I would have accepted gladly.  

“And I see quite a gathering. I…want fifty of them.”

Fifty.  Fifty what?  Years of service?  What was gathered? All my stupid decisions and misdeeds?  He could have been asking for fifty teeth, fifty bones.  Was I destined to go through this life clueless?

“Please…sir…I don’t know what…or who…you mean.”

“Then I will take my pick,” He replied simply, and I realised I had failed at something he found obvious.  A new flutter of fear in my recently released heart. A gathering… that a known necromancer would take his pick?  Some part of my mind lept to Avel and knew he must be referring to her…but…a gathering?  I stared at his blackened hand swinging just before my face and I turned on Auspex in the vane hope of seeing…something. 

Colours decorated the freezer. In front of me, Ambrogino radiated a light blue of calm, a green of his obsession and the white of innocence…or, more accurately, honesty. In my hands, the gun radiated the deep red of desire or lust, the bane, no doubt.  Behind me, though, streamed waves of orange fear, black hatred and silver sadness.  Behind me?  I’d never seen any auras sweeping around from behind before.  There was someone there that I couldn’t see at that moment. It had to be Avel, but the aura was far too large for just one.

“Please, sir,” I winced, interrupting his selection of…souls? “There is someone here who is precious to me.”

“Who?” He asked as I watched the auras of what was behind me focus on that one shrivelled dead hand.

“She is my mother,” I confessed, “Avel.”

He wrinkled his ravaged face in disgust.  Staring at me momentarily as if assessing, he finally grabbed my chin, yanking it around to look behind. The auras swirled and mixed, and in amongst it figures, hundreds of figures, huddled together.  I heard their cries and knew who they all must be. It wasn’t just Avel who had followed me out of Bosnia twenty-nine years ago.   From the records I’d found online, these were the souls of six hundred and ten men and boys who had met their fate at the pit. 

 My surprise and horror must have been evident.  The screaming voices I’d lived with my whole life were theirs, and if what Ambrogino said was true, maybe even the fears that plagued me as well.  I summoned up what necromancy I knew and focused on seeing the dead.  There was Avel standing before a group of people of all ages.  Six hundred and eleven souls, including Avel, filled the tiny freezer room, always there. 

“Which one?” He asked, oblivious or uncaring to my realisation.

The heavy chains rattled as I reached up for Avel, as she looked on in grief-stricken horror.  I could have done it without that image.  

Ambrogino pointedly stared at my outstretched hand and followed the line with his eyes to Avel.  

“This one is yours. Fine,” he said and grabbed her as if she were a rag in the way, tossing her across the room. I watched as, one by one, he made the fifty ghosts fade away with the wave of his gnarled black hand.  The last was not so lucky. Pointedly locking eyes with me, he sank his fangs into the ghost’s incorporeal being and seemed to drink them away to nothing.  I didn’t know if to be happy I’d seemingly got off so lightly or distressed at having lost these people who were once family, friends and neighbours. When he was finished, five hundred and sixty-one souls were still attached to me.  

Now that the worst was done, I looked around and remembered I was incorporeal, and the chains no longer bound me.  With a thought, I slipped through and had to catch myself before my face hit the concrete.  Staying on the ground, I knelt before Ambrogino, slowly collecting the pieces of my dignity scattered around.  With my torn clothes, I also absentmindedly took the stake.  

“Lucretia, help him up,” The old man laughed coldly. It was like being the medical subject of a brilliant yet distant doctor.  I felt a guiding hand on my forearm and shakily I rose to my feet.

“I had no idea,” I finally said to the uncaring Ambrogino as Lucretia picked up Lupara and handed it to me, with the barrel facing her chest.  I took it carefully, “Thank you.”
“It’s a gift.” She said, her voice soft, containing the same cold tone of her Sire.

Now I was free, and the bane was secured in Lupara, Ambrogino turned back to Giuseppe.

“Where is Dominic?”

When it was clear that Giuseppe was saying nothing, I spoke up.

“He went to see the Prince,” I said simply. I didn’t know the nature of Izac’s request and didn’t feel it necessary to stir up trouble by adding they were on a mission for werewolves.  

Ambrogino acknowledged my interruption but stayed fixed on Giuseppe, “Nephew, get him.” 

“You, Rain,” He pointed at me, “will stay and be quiet.”  I had no intention of doing otherwise.  I nodded and slowly started to dress.

The coterie was scattered, oblivious to the drama occurring in the time-out room. Luna was still translating the Italian book through Latin. Stallion was in the keg fridge, having completed his ritual and starting another. Izac sat heartless in the passenger seat as Dominic drove them back to Leichhardt.

“You managed to survive.  Congratulations, how did you do it?” Dominic asked in a jolly mood, chatty and full of excited interest. It was not a mood that Izac could share in.

“I gave him what he wanted?”
“Yes, that’s how most survive the Prince.  What did he want?”

“Information….about me,” Izac confessed.

“Ah, the great secret.”
“Yes, the Mystery man revealed, at least to one.  It almost feels like a weight has been lifted, only to be replaced by another.”

“Ah yes, the young often give themselves enough rope to hang themselves.”

“How did you survive such a terrible fate?” Izac asked, partly out of interest and partly to distract himself.

“I was smarter than my siblings.  Then, day by day, you do what you need to do. If you make enough money, you’re not beholden to anyone. Make yourself useful, you’re not likely to be murdered. Fortunately, this place is not as strict as the old countries.”

“I…I was told to come back.  I didn’t choose to,” Izac confessed but either because he was distracted with his own thoughts or good mood, Dominic did not pick up on the subtle disclosure.

“You didn’t choose to become what you are?  Did you have to dig yourself out of the sand too?”

“No, break out of a locked room.”

“I don’t know which one is worse,” Dominic said in a rare moment of sympathy, “Locked rooms are usually for keeping things in, not out.”

“The advantage of having someone who could teach.”

“The others?”
“No, you.  You had the great Giovanni family at your back.”

“Don’t mistake family politics for care.” He chuckled, “Did I have the advantage of being taught?  Yes, but that advantage was well earned. Even Giuseppe, the one you all look down on, has earned his place. There are no free rides in the Giovanni family.”

The discussion gave Izac food for thought, and the car went silent.  Still, Dominic was in a good mood and changed the subject.

“So, have you decided to continue facilitating between…peoples?”

Izac thought for a moment, “Day by day, I guess. But at the moment, yes.”

“Well, then we should enroll you into University.  You wouldn’t mind night classes would you?” He laughed at his own attempt at humour.

“Not much of a choice.”
“Not if you’re staying employed. But surely it’s not a terrible option. You could have been in Russia during the eighties.”

It was Izac turn to laugh, a sad bark of a laugh, “I was running around Sydney in the eighties.  That was a whole other hell.”

“Still, from what you’ve said, the Prince is on your side.  I say that’s cause for a celebratory drink.”

“Oh, I better call Mother and tell her the news,” Izac deflected the happy Dominic and pulled out his phone, “I don’t even know if the King’s Arms is still open.”

His phone rang, and a male voice he didn’t recognise answered.

“King’s Arms.”
“Hi, it’s Izac. Can I speak to Mother?”

“She’s asleep at the moment.”

“I’ll call back tomorrow.”

“That’s a long time for you guys, isn’t it?” the voice said, and Izac had to admit to the truth. It would be good to know Mother found out the news as soon as she woke and not wait all day for the answer directly from him. “Can I take a message?”

“Yeah, just tell her the request to the Prince has been approved.”

‘Fancy, okay.  I’ll make sure she gets it.”

Izac hung up.

“Paying off old debts?” Dominic commented.

“I don’t like owing debts.”

“That’s the point. It is a perfect system of want and need that never stagnates.”

“Speaking of which, I probably owe you one.”
“More than likely,” Dominic said and was reminded of one debt still outstanding, “Where is my car?”

“In secure parking.  Safe.” Izac replied as he had under the Crowbar.

“Is it in one piece?”

“There are no missing or removed parts. Do you want to stop in and check?

“No I want to deal with Rain’s situation.  Give the keys to Bruce and have him sort it out.” Dominic finally said, unconcerned.

Izac was less blase, “Yeah, sure.”  He finally noted Dominic’s mood, “Do I want to know why you’re in such a good mood?”

“I had a little me time.  It was nice to blow off some steam.” And as if in remembrance, a sadistic smile much like Giuseppe’s crossed Dominic’s face. Izac shuddered at the ‘Giovanni’ smile and sat silently for the rest of the journey.

Stallion’s rituals were going well.  He set timers corresponding to certain dates, and everything was set as far as he was concerned.  When he was finished, he took himself outside to the alleyway and made a phone call to Night Rider.  On the way through the bar, he spied Giuseppe carrying a sawn-off shotgun.  It didn’t look like he was preparing to shoot it, but it was still an odd sight. Probably a good thing as he was heading back down to the time out room.  

“Hey!  What’s going on?” Ask Night Rider when he answered the phone.

“I wanted to ask a request of you.”
“Right, what do you want?”
“A chimpanzee.”

“A what?”

“I can pay.”

“Yeah?  And what do you consider payment?”

“Cash.  Twelve large.”
“When?”

This was tricky. He needed it now, or at least as soon as possible, but exotic pet ownership of a chimpanzee was not legal in Sydney, and the chimpanzee would have to come from the zoo.

“Two days at the most.”

“Fifty.  Anything else?”
“That’s it.  So you’ll bring it to me…”

“No way!  I’ll be in touch.” And Night Rider hung up. 

The next stop was the armoury. Since Rain had taken his last stake, he found his way down to the carpark and into the armoury, where he found a box full of pre-sharpened and planed wooden stakes. Tucking one into his waistband, he headed back upstairs to the library, where he’d last seen Slobbers.

Luna was still focused on her translation.  It was a calming, repetitive task that filled the moments until Rain could be fixed, but she was getting nowhere.  The Latin she knew was too removed from the modern Italian to make much sense of anything.  It was in one of her brief moments of frustration that she looked up from her work and felt that someone was watching her.  She looked to the door, sure Giuseppe must be there drooling.  Nothing.  Still with Rain in the Time Out room? She looked to the camera that she had been made all too aware of after Days of Fire went missing. It was on as usual, but that couldn’t account for the feeling.  She turned to look behind her and spied Slobbers hiding amongst the bookshelves, staring balefully in her direction with his too-human eyes.

“Would you kill me?” Asked Blanco.  It was the first time she’d actually seen him talk, though she knew he could. 

“No.”

“Why?” Blanco cried, and his human sobs melded into those of a whimpering dog.

“It has to be Stallion’s choice. You’re his.”

“I’m never going to die, am I?”

“Enternity is promised.  You are a ghoul, you can live for a very long time.”
“I didn’t choose this.” He cried again, only to confront Luna’s indifference.

“Join the club.”

Head down, he slunk out the door to the office when Stallion burst in the door.  After a few moments of yipping speech from Stallion, Luna heard Blanco reply.

“Anything for you, master?” And back into the library trundled Slobbers and a very pleased-looking Stallion. Slobbers stood behind Luna, and Luna finally put her pen down, unsure what Stallion was up to.

“Luna, we need to talk,” He said, blocking her way to the door and escape.  She said nothing, she just kept an eye on Stallion and Blanco.

“You see, there’s some crazy shit going on out there that we don’t know of, and frankly it fucking terrifies me. I suggest we form a strong bond against what’s coming.”

This again?  “Are you pulling my leg?” 

“No, I’m offering you my arm,” He said, holding out his.

“Why would I want to bond with you?”

“Dominic said it would help keep us safe.”

“Did he?” Luna was sure it was more of a commitment ritual than any magic that made the group stronger.  That was how Izac described it, anyway.

“Yes!” Stallion said with commitment, but to what, Luna wasn’t sure. She had a feeling Stallion wasn’t sure what he was asking for either.  Sometimes it seemed like was flirting, sometimes it seemed like he felt it was something more.

“Do you really understand what you’re asking for?”

Stallion sighed, “Most of it just goes over my bloody head. But it was suggested.”

“I’m not bonding with you, Stallion. Not you, not anyone.”

“Well, can we get over this bloody beef you have with me?”

Luna leaned back in the leather chair.  This was more like it.  He, like Rain, talked about this bonding ritual all the while lying and keeping secrets.  What was the point of a ritual if the participants weren’t honest?

“Sure.  What happened at Pyrmont, Stallion?”
“I told you.  I got some stuff, and then the werewolves turned up.”
“You’re not being honest about who you were with.”

“There was no other person.” 

“You said they took a sliver off the tree.”

“That was one of the werewolves.”

She stayed still, watching Stallion.  Nah, it didn’t sound right.  Stallion usually blabbed all over the place. Elysium was a prime example; he’d do anything to make himself look good.  But about these werewolves, he didn’t seem to have much to say.

“You want us to be fine.  Tell me the god damned truth!” She demanded, slamming her palm on the desk between them.

“I didn’t lie!”
“Omittion is lying!”

“Look, I’m trying to do stuff for you.”
“Like what?  Tell me Stallion, what are you up to?”

“Like when I sang to the Prince, my rap.  I did you a favour there.  That killing could have been used as blackmail against you.  It’s against the Masquade!”

Luna rolled her eyes.  The death of her first meal still haunted her. It wasn’t against the Masquerade itself, though it had threatened it.  Still, it was true that in exposing her, he’d diluted that information’s power as potential blackmail. For a while, she’d been trying to work out if Stallion was dumb or had been playing dumb all along. Now she was seeing he had some plan, he was playing dumb for his own machinations.  Maybe he had been helping all along.

“Here, I have something for you,” He said, and from behind his back, Stallion pulled out a stake just like the one he stabbed Rain with.  The hair on Luna’s neck stood up. Was he going to paralyse her and say she went into a frenzy? He could do whatever he wanted while she was in that state. Maybe that’s why he’d wanted Rain to himself to perform the bonding ritual between the two of them!!

Slowly, she rose from her chair.

“Here,” he said, offering her the stake, “Stab me.”

She took the stake, now confused, as Stallion started stripping off his coat and shirt.  She threw the stake across the room.  

“Look, this will build trust, right?  Stab me.” He said, now naked from the waist up.  Stallion retrieved the stake and returned to his place with Luna between him and Slobbers.

“See, I’ll show you I trust you,” And with that, he thrust the stake into his chest and collapsed onto the floor.  

Luna was shocked speechless by the brutal display.  She was even more shocked when a moment later, the very solid wood stake disappeared, and Stallion stood up looking perplexed.

“Slobbers isn’t a dog, is he?”

What insanity was this?  Did he try some hocus pocus animal trick that didn’t work because Blanco was actually a human?
“Do you really want the truth, Stallion?” She asked and then told him about Mr Giovanni little trick.

Stallion looked as though reality was falling apart around him.  Luna started to be concerned that it would be Stallion who would frenzy next and she was alone.

“You knew?!” He exclaimed as he slowly put the pieces together.

“Boofhead was a risk we couldn’t take. It was either one dog’s life or all our unlives. Izac and Dominic hatched their plan to kill the real Boofhead and substitute him with a compliant and controllable ghoul in the shape of a dog.  Your dog is dead, and you’ll never find him.  I had no choice!”

It was testament to Stallion’s own personal fortitude that he didn’t disolve into a drooling frenzy. Instead, he looked at Slobbers, seemed to pursue some memory of his dog and finally returned to Luna, his eyes red but clear.

“Okay.  I can see you had no choice, so I forgive you. I’m still furious though! And, Slobbers!  What are you?” Stallion asked his dog looking equally as miserable on the floor.

“Your dog. Woof, woof. Bark, bark, bark…” Blanco said before breaking down into an anguish of human crying and dog whimpering.

“Stallion, let me kill him,” Luna said as the two men in the room dissolved into messes.

“Does he want to die?” Stallion asked, horrified. His dog wasn’t a dog but a man. His friend wasn’t a friend by a ghoul bound to someone else.  He didn’t love you, and he wanted to die!

“Stallion, he’s a man named Blanco. He has a wife and child. It’s cruel to leave him like this.”
Stallion shook his head and stepped back, “No, I think I need to talk to Dominic about that. I’m not taking responsibility for killing his ghoul.” He turned to Slobbers, a dog-shaped pile of misery on the floor, “I’ll get you your bloody bottle.”

The Crowbar was still full of customers as Izac and Dominic climbed the stairs from the carpark.  They were just about to head to the VIP section when both Bruce and Giuseppe rushed over, talking at the same time. 

“One at a time, please,” Dominic said and pointed to Bruce, “You first, then Giuseppe.”

“The dog.  He knows.” Bruce said simply, and Dominic frowned.

“That didn’t last long.”
“Oh fuck!” Izac added.

“Right.  Get a big bowl of whisky and take it upstairs.”

“That’s for the dog, right?” Bruce asked, and Dominic rolled his eyes and nodded.

“I’ll reeducate Stallion and the dog after we check on Rain.” He looked at Giuseppe.

“Uncle. He’s here.”
“Already?” Things were moving fast, “Where?”

“With Rain.” Giuseppe continued, “Don’t worry. He didn’t want to eat…him.  He focused on the others.”
“That is his preference.”
“Aunty is with him.”
“Which aunty?”

“Lucretia.” 

Dominic searched his memory and the family history for the many Lucretia’s that existed in its boughs.  She would probably be the Lucretia, who was Ambrogino’s child.  She was one of the few people in the family he could stand.  She was a little crazy, but nothing they couldn’t deal with. At least there were no windows in the Time Out room.

“He told me to get one of the guns,” Giuseppe continued, “One of the enforcers…he called it by the old name.  He put something in it.”
“Is Rain still restrained?” They were now heading downstairs.  Izac took his opportunity to step away.  He had no interest in ancient, powerful uncles. 

“No. Rain’s fixed.”

“Oh, that is good news.” The concern of hearing that Ambrogino has arrived in his absence was forgotten as the good mood returned, “Very good.  Now, you play your cards right, they may assign you the final kiss.”

By this time, I’d been examined, prodded, and poked by both Ambrogino and Lucretia and was no longer interesting. As I dressed in my bloodied and torn shirt, my dishevelled vest, and my jacket, I watched both of them as they waited silently for Dominic. They were like statues, not blinking, not breathing, not moving. It was unnerving. The tension was finally lifted with the door sliding aside and Dominic walking in. I was never happier to see him.

He swaggered up, arms out wide, and clapped Ambrogino on each shoulder before going in for a traditional Italian welcome. From statue to bludgeoning fist, Ambrogino moved like lightning, and it was only Dominic’s good survival instincts that stopped him from being thrown across the room. In a moment, Dominic was on his knee in front of Ambrogino, stammering out apologies.  

“Apologies Uncle, it has been a while since I’ve been back to the old country.  My pleasure at your arrival overcame my decorum…”

“It has nothing to do with the old country, you’ll speak when you’re spoken to.  I came here for what you said.  You are not what you said.  That thing…” Pointing at me, “…is not what you said. The more time I waste here while you’re busy playing around with that Snake is less time I can pursue more ambitious studies.”

If I wasn’t already in the basement of Rockbottom I may have taken offence. Instead, I had front-row seats to Dominic being chewed out.  It was starting to feel like a party.  A silent and very tense one, but enjoyable nonetheless. Once more, I noticed that the Prince was referred to as’ a snake. ‘ I wondered what the reference for that was.  I wondered if I could find out.

“Apologies, I was securing more favours for the family,” Dominic explained, but the sucking-up didn’t seem to be doing the job this time.

“I am not your family, you are my family. Now, take me to what you talked about. Immediately.”

The bony black finger pointed back in my direction. I recalled how the spirits were dismissed by that hand and a thrill of fear ran through me thinking I could be as easily dismissed.

“What is its name?”

“His name is Rain,” Dominic provided, and for the first time I failed to recognise the name as my own. I blinked, realised he was talking about me and accepted.

“You’re bringing Rain,” Ambrogino commanded.

“Yes, Uncle,” Dominic stood and offered his hand to me. I palmed the keys to Pyrmont onto him, one of the only things left on my person.  After that dressing down, the guy needed a small win.

We left the Time Out room, Dominic in the lead, Ambrogino followed by Lucretia, myself and Giuseppe in tow. As usual, after hours of waiting, things were moving fast.  I glanced over at Giuseppe, he was staring fixedly ahead too afraid to move.  I had wanted a moment to talk to him, everyone in fact but that wasn’t to be.  This was now Ambrogino’s show as we were just along for the ride.

We passed the stairs to the offices and heard crying, a broken whining, a bubbling mix of misery.  I couldn’t imagine what would make that noise. Dominic heard it too and investigated, opening the door to his office with Luna, Stallion and a miserable Blanco sobbing on the floor.  Stallion was standing with no shirt on (which he can totally pull off if I’ve not mentioned it previously) and a stain on his chest in the same position as the wound in mine.  What the hell?  Was it stake day at the Crowbar? Was this some sort of self-punishment? Did he feel any guilt over staking me?  So many questions.

Luna looked just as stunned and confused as the rest of us. 

“Why are we delaying?” Ambrogino demanded, and I was wondering the same thing. This was certainly nothing I’d want an ancient, powerful, and cranky family member to witness.

“We have to move,” Dominic said with his usual authority and to their credit, both Luna and Stallion complied, “now.” He turned and headed for the basement carpark.

“Have you moved onto pets now?” Ambrogino was not finished trying to make sense of the nonsensical scene, “Have you degraded so much?  What is that thing?”

“A cruel joke,” Dominic confessed and I was surprised to see Stallion wasn’t.  He knew!  Well…good. Out of all our stupid secrets, that was one of the worst.  

Dominic was desperate to keep this train moving, drawing us away from the office and down to the car. Ambrogino was suddenly not in a hurry.

“You there, childe,” He pointed at Stallion, “Is that yours?”

“Giovanni did give him to me?” Stallion stumbled through a reply.

“Kill it,” Ambrogino ordered with cold efficiency.  Two words and Blanco had his wish, “It’s annoying.”

Stallion looked like a dog assessing a stranger in his territory. To his credit, it didn’t take him long to work out where he was on the pecking order. His eyes widened and he nodded his head not wasting the alpha’s time with words. Stallion turned to Blanco still sobbing on the ground.

“T..thank you, thank y…ou.” The words bubbled up through the wails and whines.

“You wanted to be killed?” Stallion asked.

“Yes…yes, please. End me…”

“Is there any way you want to be killed?” Stallion really did have feelings for the being that Blanco represented.  But it was time to say goodbye.

“Just end it, please!” Blanco pleaded, and I lamented Stallion was playing with his prey. I understood, but it was still hard to watch.

“Do it now,” Ambrogino was getting impatient with Stallion’s weakness. 

Stallion’s claw grew out of his fingers.  He looked at them a moment before swinging down and slashing Blanco across the throat. It was messy, he almost decapitated Blanco, the vertebrae showing clearing through the pumping blood from the carotid artery.  He could have just drained him, quick, quiet and clean.  It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had to do things the hard way.

I spared a glance at Luna.  The stunned look was replaced by one of resigned acceptance.  Things were as they should be.  I left them to it and scrambled to follow Dominic downstairs.

“Good,” I heard Ambrogino say, “You do as you’re told and you have manners.  You’re both coming.”  Glancing behind, Luna silently followed Ambrogino out of the room.  Stallion, his shirt and jacket unbuttoned but on, carried the broken corpse of Blanco drinking what blood had been left after the creation of the pool on the library floor. If he’d been that hungry, why hadn’t he bitten him?  The expression on Stallion face said was not one of grief or hunger but…shock?  Even now, Stallion was only just realising what Blanco had been.

“Luna,…did you know that…thing was actually a…” 

“Quiet!” Ambrogino barked, and the foolish pup silenced,” I do not want to hear the prattling of children.”

So, our way to the SUV was quiet. Dominic was ready, holding the back door open for the rest of us.

“I will take the centre.  Lucretia will take shotgun…no, Rain will take shotgun,” Said Ambrogino and laughed a breathy, raspy chuckle, “An old joke.” I have to admit, the man has a sense of humour.

Ambrogino took the centre seat, middle row. Aunt Lucretia seemed to suddenly appear in the front passenger seat. She hadn’t hidden herself during our walk from the freezer to the car, but neither had she been obvious. One moment, she was forgotten, and the next, she was buckling her seat belt—a curious knack I could see being very useful.  

Izac caught up with us as we moved through the club’s main room, staring wide-eyed at Ambrogino. 

“I’m assuming this is your uncle?” He said quietly to Dominic, who didn’t speak, and he only gave a quick nod in reply.  Luna lifted a finger to her lips, gesturing for Izac to remain silent. Luna still seemed phased by whatever she’d witnessed in the library prior to our arrival and was waving her hand far more than necessary, catching Izac curiosity if not his compliance.

“Shh!” Dominic said, short and sharp, “Get in the car.”

Izac smiled with pleasure at Dominic’s obvious discomfort and took a seat behind the passenger in the back row. Luna quickly slipped in beside him, behind Ambrogino, with Stallion to her right. Giuseppe took the driver’s side beside Ambrogino, and I was left to take the seat to Ambrogino’s left. With the car filled, Dominic closed the door, took his seat as driver, and drove us carefully out of the carpark.

Dominic was driving as he had walked through the club, with purpose, but not drawing attention to us by speeding.  Behind me, I could hear Izac on his phone the physical button clicking as he created his text.  Ambrogino didn’t seem to pay any attention though and when I glanced up I saw his eyes were clouded and pale grey. His senses weren’t with us in the car, but out in the world around us.

“Go faster,” He instructed without emotion, and Dominic smoothly sped up.

I looked down.  Mostly to keep from making eye contact with the powerful being beside me but partly to look at the two items in my hand.  The first was the stake, bloodstained and a little charred.  After all I’d been through, I felt attached to it. Better in my hands than someone elses.  The second was Lupara, an ancient shotgun with an evil spirit inside.  My evil spirit. I itched to break it down and leave the parts at my feet. I also knew it was a powerful gift, something that may be useful if we have to tussle with Stallion’s werewolves. I bit my thumb in the meat of my palm and let blood drip into each barrel. Instead of running through, it pooled in the space for the cartridges, glistening as the city lights zipped by.  I listened for the screaming that always accompanied sight, smell or sound of any gun. It was curious.  They were still there, still wailing their pain, but it was distant, not in me at all. The wailing came from the gun.  I was starting to understand what he meant by me being able to “…overcome my fear…”.  

“Nephew, are we expecting anything?” Ambrogino asked, breaking the silence.

“As far as I’m aware, we may be expecting one black spiral dancer,” Dominic replied to the best of his knowledge. With the heavy silence laid on the car, no one was willing to contradict him, though at least four of us knew Stallion had met with others.

“I’ve prepared some surprises in the trunk.” 

“I will wait until I am needed,” Ambrogino decided, “I am loathed to deal with Lupus.”
And with that decision made, our best hope of surviving an attack by werewolves was staying in the car.  I clutch Lupara to my chest.

Dominic parked a few doors down from my Pyrmont home and quickly opened the boot to gain access to the arsenal inside.  Eight submachine guns, claymores, riot shields and body armour, the bullets in the guns were white metal instead of blue or grey or steel or lead. One by one we took items from the back. I snagged body armour and daggers as usual before finding a leg holster for Lupara.  I felt bulky and slow but was glad of the extra protection.  I noted Luna, hanging back, still, her head cocked to one side. Someone was talking to her, and as she had the watch, I thought I knew who it was. 

3.40 am, 3 hours until Sunrise. 11 days until The Succubus Club.

*****************************************************************************************

Luna’s thoughts…

Guilty Conscience

She’s killing language with a pen. 

Her handwriting is still cubic. Forever influenced by the chiselled design of Linear B. The pen’s nib is digging into the page and leaving craves in the paper beneath. 

Her head hasn’t shut up. 

Like this night, the pressure is all consuming. 

How many- 

She turns the page. 

How many more punches until you finally hit back? 

No, she’s supposed to be better. Better than them. Then him. 

Where has fighting gotten her? 

Where have your pathetic words gotten you? 

Something’s watching her. 

Behind her sits a man masquerading as a dog. 

She can still recall the sound of paw pads and nails blundering down the stairs of Pyrmont. Boofhead’s wide, saliva covered, panting grin to greet her and Rain. His confused stare but lax body language as she held him through the whole car ride as she prayed for him. The welp he let out when Rain bit his throat. 

A man made dog sat as a perfect replacement but she knew he was an imposter. Izac’s debt. Rain and Giovanni as his co-conspirators and Luna as their collateral. 

She hasn’t been treating Stallion the same since. She can’t look at him. Can’t keep him close. How could she, standing there with his dog’s blood on her hands? 

Luna was no con artist. She was a worse actor. 

“Will you kill me?” 

She remembers the bourbon bottle. The first look she got into those haunted brown eyes. 

“No. That’s Stallion’s choice.” Here she is, still playing this charade. 

“I’m never going to die,” the dog’s head fell to look at the floor instead of her. 

“You’re a ghoul living with vampires. Eternity is promised,” she did not believe the words she was saying. Her conviction lost to her frustration. 

The thing rose onto its four legs, head hanging as it walked to the library door. 

“I didn’t want this life, it was forced upon me-“ 

“Join the club.” She didn’t have time for a pity party. How many parents are there to mourn for? Children left without their parents? She’s seen mutts as depressed as him back at the shelter she used to work at. Empathy is a rare currency. 

She returns to her pen and paper. 

Stallion pushes the library door open and Luna fights the urge to snap the pen in her hand. 

“I think we should talk,” why can’t this night be over? “There’s crazy shit out there and if I’m being honest this shit terrifies me. So, I was thinking you should Bond with me.” 

Breaking deals with werewolves to proposing a bond? Stallion is riding a high she’ll never match. 

“Do you understand what you’re asking from me?” She asked as she simply stared at him. I mean, the last time she found a druggie attractive was 15 and it was more about the drugs than the man himself. 

“Giovanni suggested we should do it. A while back,” now he had to be lying to her face. Giovanni warned them about blood bonds. They all turned their nose to Vaulderie. Why would she want his infatuation? His lost sense of wanting to build trust? 

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Luna would never call herself a genius but it would take a second more coherent Stallion to explain his own motives because this has to be the weirdest way she’s been hit on. Or, the worst business pitch ever spoken. He’s propositioning her but he doesn’t even know what he’s attempting to communicate. 

He’s still hiding behind his own words. This is a man who put her skeletons on display. Let the whole Court know her shortcomings and never gave it a second thought. So lax about everyone else’s secrets and he persists to guard his close to his chest. 

It fucking infuriates her. 

“You want me to be straight with you? Then meet me halfway. Tell me the truth. What deal did you strike with the werewolves? Who was there with you?” 

The roll of his shoulders reminded her of their argument not 30 minutes ago, “I went to the place, got our stuffs and there were werewolves. Simple as that.” 

“You’re lying!” Her fists smash onto the wooden desk. What does she have to say, have to do, for this man to just be clear with her!?

“I’m not!” 

Oh he wants to play fucking semantics? Let’s play. 

“You’re omitting! That’s the same as lying.”

“Fine, you want the truth?” 

“Yes!” 

“You never asked what I used my favour with the Prince for,” she never knew he used it. “That night I rapped to the Prince,” Stallion steps closer, his words growing in their shortening distance. “I was hoping he read in between the lines.” Picking apart lyrics to build cases were for half minded idiots claiming to understand a semblance of rap’s interwoven complexity to only produce a surface level observation. 

“Giovanni has no blackmail over you now.” 

Take her back to those late nights where she was taking punches on gravel made driveways. The lessons made against clawed bricks collecting her skin samples. She would rather have him slam her face into these hardwood floors. Throw punches at her again so this doesn’t bother her. So that she doesn’t have to peel back layers of Stallion only to find the faces of her past. 

He’s making a lot of sense. 

No he isn’t. He can’t be helping us. 

He may be able to fan our flame. 

She just wants to burn. 

“Keep it straight with me Stallion.” No more tug of war. She’s at a breaking point. He’s been speaking but saying nothing. 

“Fine, you want us to have trust?” A handful of steps apart, Stallion pulls out a stake. 

Luna’s body tenses. The blood within her body swirls awake, thrumming in her veins. Her boots snap to the ground, sitting on the edge of the chair. Her fingers flicked the pen into the grasp of her fingers. It’s no knife but it’ll have to do. 

Stallion slips out from his trench coat. The fabric falls heavy to the ground. Next, he loses his shirt. 

He turns the stake to have the pointed edge point at himself. 

“Stake me.”

He’s lost the plot. He’s playing her. She’s scared. 

She replaces the pen with the stake. 

Would the old her have staked him? 

The wood slams into books somewhere behind her. Cast this out. A stake is taking Rain’s freedom. Stallion wants her to imprison him. Or at least, try. She knows better than anyone about Stallion’s physical capabilities. One miscalculation and he’d have the complete advantage. 

“Just keep doing whatever the fuck you were doing.” She knows it was the wrong thing to say. Stallion rounds her, acquiring the stake from across the room. 

She doesn’t even yell out when he plunges the wood into his chest. 

His body drops like his trench coat. Dead weight. 

“Is he dead?”

“What’s she doing here?”

“Amica, come on.”

The stake has disappeared. Stallion slowly rises to his feet, swaying from imbalance instead of drugs. 

Luna can guess why Frankenstein ran when his monster awoke. 

When he lifted his head, he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were on Slobbers standing guard at the door. 

“Luna, that’s not a dog…” his eyes snap to hers, “what the fuck is that thing?” 

Her hands are shaking. She clenches them into fists. Are they covered in dirt? In blood? Damned spot. 

“You want the truth!?” The blood hasn’t settled. It burns over her fists, sparks against her chest. 

“I was conned by two men. Cornered by Izac and Rain because they were making choices for you because one dog is not worth four unlives. Boofhead is dead. Buried where you’ll never find him.” Izac was so busy lobbying to fix his mistakes he didn’t take a second to consider the collateral. Did they care when they cornered her in this very library?

“What are you saying? Another dog? That’s…” Stallion stormed over to her, “I can’t believe you-“ He seemed to stop himself as Luna stood her ground. Can he see it? The guilt in her eyes? 

“-I’m fucking pissed as hell with you.” 

When she didn’t respond to him, he refocused on Slobbers. 

“If my dog is dead then what the fuck is that?” The real victim here is the man made dog. 

“I’m a dog. Woof, woof.” It was the most pathetic thing she’s heard all day and she’s had to interact with Giuseppe. 

The dog breaks into uncontrollable sobbing. 

“Stallion.” 

“What?” 

“Let me kill him.” 

“That thing is Giovanni’s problem. I don’t want to get on the boss’s bad side.” 

“Leave him crying on the curb.” 

Luna takes a conscious breath. Lifting her fists to press against her eyes. 

“On another note. Let’s play a game, like old times.” 

If he cannot expand our flame after this, we will need him to be consumed by our fire. 

Luna is about to implode. 

“Kill it.” 

That voice cut through the threads left from Stallion and Luna’s dispute. She froze on compliance as Stallion reared ever so slightly before thinking better. It was hard to hear Dominic’s hushed tone over the screaming of the abomination to the canis genus. Seems the Giovanni’s very own Ambrogino has shown up. 

“Finally it’s all over,” the dog sobbed in catharsis as Stallion summoned his animalistic nails. 

“Wait, you want to die?” 

“Yes. Kill me, please.”

Stallion slashed the thing’s throat, rebalancing the natural order and upsetting it again when he latched onto the corpse’s throat to drink the rapidly diminishing blood. 

“Good. You do what you’re told. You’re both coming.”

It seems Ambrogino took her silence as acceptance because she was exiting the library with a blood stained Stallion. 

Rain was there. He was liberated but at what cost? 

He won’t look at her, or anyone. Clothes as tethered as his mental state. 

Then she saw Izac as they made their way to the garage. 

Ambrogino had become easily angered at the slightest vibration of a voice but Luna’s warning to be quiet effectively failed to her shaking hands and mounting frustrations. 

No words were passed as everyone claimed a seat. 

Izac and herself shared a glance before he pulled out his phone. 

Hers buzzed. 

‘New friends?’ 

Izac was either the leader of his own group or a chronic loner. 

‘More like superiors’ was her answer. 

‘Right, makes sense. Hold onto that book, something tells me the night isn’t over yet.’ 

Her pockets are weighing her down but she’ll keep the book safe. Even if that is the only thing she’ll accomplish on this night. 

‘Has your name on it when this night is finally over.’ Because this night will end. It has to. 

‘Watch each other’s back? like the alley?’ 

‘Like the alley.’ 

Luna didn’t want to reveal anything to their new company, opting to rest her head on the headrest instead of Izac’s shoulder. 

She may be done with this night but it is not done with her. She knew as much as they pulled into the road loading to the Pyrmont residence. 

Notable NPCs

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

Detective Woodman:  NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia.  He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.

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

Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.

Night Rider: Red-haired vampire?  Works for the Prince.

Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)

Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats

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.

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. 

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.

12.20 am, 6 hours until Sunrise. 11 days until The Succubus Club.

Mr Giovanni made his way through the club and down into the VIP room to the Time Out space. Stallion had gone AWOL just when he was needed, which was…disappointing. As the light from the hallway lit the space beyond, he could see Luna sitting silently beside Rain, just where he’d last seen her.  

At least someone was reliable.

 For a moment, they both stood or sat watching the paralysed Toreador hanging in chains.

“Luna, no one enters this room except for Bruce, Giovanni and yourself…and, of course, any other vampire that needs to be put into Time Out. But no one else.“

“You’re worried about Rain being seen…like this?” Luna asked, aware of the kin community’s maliciously gossipy nature.

“Hmm,” Mr Giovanni thought momentarily, “no…not about being seen. Rain is in a very vulnerable state at the moment. You’re on guard duty.”
Luna sighed, “I thought as much.” Behind Mr Giovanni, Luna watched as a loose chain moved back and forth on its own. She followed the chain with her eyes to where it was attached to the wall and down to its end.  It was not one of the four connected to Rain. Looking back at Rain, she realised his head had turned slightly towards where the moving chain hung. Mr Giovanni noticed her interest in the chains.

“Make sure the chains stay on.”

“I figured as much.”

“And when a blood bag empties, replace it.”

“Are there any more blood bags?”
“Get Giuseppe to speak to the new bartender and get you another.” 

Great.  Deal with Giuseppe the sleaze to talk to Delif the bitch, marvellous.

“Hmm, great.”

Izac’s head poked into the sliding door.

“Ah, Izac, “ Mr Giovanni turned to focus on his protégé, “are you ready to meet the Prince?” As he asked, he visibly took in Izac’s current dress.  Black denim jeans, a t-shirt and his regular jacket.  Only just appropriate for walking to the Crowbar, hardly acceptable for an audience with the Prince.

Mr Giovanni’s hand made an audible slap against his face, “Tsk! Tsk! If you are to act as an intermediary for the werewolves to the Prince, you should dress the part.”

Izac looked down at his street clothes…his always clothes.

“Could I rummage through yours?”

Mr Giovanni arched an eyebrow at the thought of the taller, lean Izac wearing his made-to-measure.

“I’m sure I could lend you some of my hand-me-downs. Let’s play dress-up.” Mr Giovanni left the Time Out for the office. “I’ll see you upstairs.”

Once Mr Giovanni was out of sight, Luna stood and joined Izac at the door.

“Did you want to talk?”

“Cover your eyes,” She said seriously.

“Why?  Worried about Rain’s modesty?” Izac joked, then realised she was being serious.

“Look, I don’t know how much you know about the occult, but Rain is not Rain at the moment. This is easier than explaining right now.” Trusting in Luna, Izac complied. She pulled him in and turned so his back was to the chains and Rain. She wrapped her arms around Izac in a comfortable embrace and rested her chin on his chest.

“The Prince.  Rain warned me that we should beware the false flower.”

Izac blinked, and a bemused look slowly crept across his face.

“You know what the Prince is?” She asked when it was apparent he didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?” The bemused look dropped as he realised he was missing some vital information.

“Flowers.  What do you know about the other clans?”

“Not much, I admit.  Probably less than I should.”

“Rain. Do you know his clan?”
Izac’s eyes went blank as he searched for the answer like a child picked by the teacher, “Toreador, right?”

“Right. Flowers.”

Izac nodded.

“The Prince presents as a Toreador. But the warning is, ‘Beware the false flower’. We also know he’s not beyond eating his own.”
“Ah,” Izac was now starting to look decidedly ill.

“And the face he shows is not his…true self…it’s a facade.  And now you’re going into a meeting with him.”

“Uh, hmm,” He agreed.
“Look, I don’t know how werewolf meetings go, but at vampire meetings, they take everything and then some.”

“If it doesn’t work out how you want, I have a favour with the Prince. He owes me.  Whatever Mother Pasta is holding over your head, use my favour with the Prince to help.”

“You shouldn’t…” Izac started feeling very uncomfortable.

“But I will,” she replied with all the steel and fire she could put into three small words.

They stood a moment in silence, still wrapped in each other arms, until Izac remembered Dominic was waiting for him.

“Look, I’ve got to go, but,” he pulled back a moment and removed his small notebook from his inside pocket, “it’s yours until I come back.”

Without a word, Luna took the book and hid it away with Rain’s Will in the folds of her jacket.  Reaching up, she unclasped her crescent moon necklace and clipped it around Izac’s neck.  Carefully, she placed it under his t-shirt, only visible as an impression through the thin material.

“To keep you safe.”

They held each other for a moment more, without either willing to move away first. Izac looked up to see a slither of Giuseppe’s malformed face staring at them through the barely open sliding door. He had no idea how long the smaller man been there or what he’d seen.  The look was unsettling.  Covetous.  

Without turning or taking his eyes off the peeping Giuseppe, Izac pulled away. “Keep fighting, Rain. There are people here that need you.”

Giuseppe leaned back to let Izac pass, seemingly unaffected by Izac’s stare.

“Nothing to say, Good boy?”

“Have a nice night, Giuseppe.” 

“Thank you,” Giuseppe accepted, and Izac stalked away.

Dress-ups with Mr Giovanni were no less uncomfortable.

“You’re going to meet someone who has existed for centuries in…that?” Mr Giovanni waived at Izac’s current attire, “if you are going to make a career of seeing the Prince, you need to be aware that this attire just won’t do.  Clothes make the man, and you should have at least one good suit for a situation such as this.”
“I do,” Izac defended, “it’s white.”
“That’s for a gala, a ball…Elysium.  You need a business suit if you’re to conduct business. You want something that conveys…presence…power and gives the impression of stature.” He turned and flicked through an extensive wardrobe of generic and pre-worn suits. Fine linen suits pressed against microfibre wool of the lightest quality, which in turn gave way to those of Egyptian cotton of the highest thread count.  They were all beautiful, all expensive, and all wasted on Izac.  Eventually, he pulled out a pinstripe suit and a long morning coat. Stripping the coat from the hanger he handed the vest and suit pants to Izac.

“I feel like I’m dressing for a burial,” Izac grumbled as Mr Giovanni found a dark grey tie and shirt to match.

Izac changed, rolling shirt sleeves up so they reached a quarter up his arms. When Izac looked in the full-length mirror, he saw not Izac the loner, but Izac the tough guy out of some 1930s gangster film.  The change was surprising and a little disturbing. Luna’s pendant lay like a tiny sliver slither glinted brightly against all the masculine preening.  Izac plucked the crescent moon off his chest and looked at it for the first time. It was plain, just a moon-shaped piece of metal, but on the reverse was engraved a name. 

Eclipse. 

He quickly hid it under his new clothing and disappeared out of sight.

Stallion’s night had been a rollercoaster. Starting with a trip to kill a few feral ghouls, he made himself a little money.  He’d then started his ritual, which had been interrupted by Rain going nuts and forcing him to put a stake through him. Then Bruce had been rude and made him lug the lunatic downstairs and watch him. As if he didn’t have his own things to do. But then, he’d thought of White Shark, and things improved.  White Shark was pleased with him, praised him, and made him a partner in his scheme to sell the Pyrmont house to some werewolves.  He’d never been praised by a father figure before.  It had been unexpected and… good.

 Of course, the rats had to spoil everything, and now Stallion stood in what Rain called the Gallery and watched White Shark prepare to go, diminishing Stallion’s cut out of spite and swearing the air blue.

“I still need a place to sleep tonight,” Stallion said to White Shark’s back as he went to leave.

“Uh, yeah, right,” White Shark dug through the pockets of his not-too-clean jeans and pulled out a wad of cash.  He tossed it to Stallion.  It was a hefty bundle, but it wasn’t a dent on Stallion’s share of the take from the ghoul fight.  He’d just been tossed some small change.

“I’ll sort this deal with out you from now on.  You don’t need to be involved.  I don’t want to see you here,” White Shark grumbled and left before Stallion could reply.

“I’ll try to avoid that.”

He was alone. The house felt…wrong somehow, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the breach. The house wasn’t..alive anymore.  There was no Rain complaining about the mess or bustling about with a vacuum after Slobbers.  There was none of the tinny music screaming from Luna’s earbud, none of her lively banter.  Even Izac’s quiet presence added to the house in a way that was lacking now.  He started wandering the rooms, looking for things he could take back to justify his being here.

In Luna’s room, now busy with its new life, he found Luna’s laptop, notebook, and Book of Nod. He left the vampire tome and took the Uni notes and laptop.  He wandered through Rain’s sparse, neat room.  There was a painting of a woman on the wall, one of Lenny’s, a dark-skinned woman with a small, chubby child in her arms.  They were too dark to be Rain as a baby and his mum, and he’d never seen the woman before.  He guessed it was an art thing and kept looking.  The only thing of any possible worth was the small bonsai tree standing on a round polished table alone on one side of the room.  White Shark had thought the plant weird, but when he looked at it, he saw a tiny tree, nothing more. A strange little tree for a strange little man, it made sense.  

Stripping a blanket from the bed, he wrapped the tree and took it downstairs with Luna’s things and a few of his own.  Downstairs he took Slobber’s bowl, bottle of bourbon and bed before packing it all in the Bronco with his dirt bike.  His cover now safe, Stallion turned over the Bronco and drove back to the Crowbar.

Mr Giovanni checked Izac’s appearance one last time.  Their ‘Good boy’ looked strong, capable and ready for the role he had made for himself.  At least, there was only so much Dominic could do at short notice with the subject present.  He grabbed the keys to the utility and led the way to the car park.   When Izac saw it was the car with all the firepower still loaded in the back, he glanced at Mr Giovanni.

“You seem nervous about this visit with the Prince?” Izac said as they climbed into the car.

“I don’t know everything happening in the City, but I do know that werewolves are on the move.  No, I’m not nervous,” Mr Giovanni said, taking the driver’s seat and turning the engine over. I’m prepared.”

As they drove, Mr Giovanni instructed Izac on etiquette with the Prince and potted history on the Prince’s…interests.

“He’s established himself in the Opera House.  It’s not his only place of operation, but…he enjoys feeding on the rich who desire the area’s pretension.  The one’s that no one will miss.” Unsurprisingly, the news did not improve Izac’s mood.

They entered the Opera House and were ushered to the main auditorium as before.  This time, instead of the main stage, they were directed to the seating centre, three rows from the front.  There, the Prince sat and watched as two dancers strutted and fretted around the stage, their movements not graceful but frantic.  Izac didn’t know what to make of the dancing.  Maybe it was some modern expressionist stuff?  The Prince waved the two of them across without taking his eyes off the performers.

“Good evening, P…” Mr Giovanni started his introduction, but the Prince silenced him with a distracted wave.

“Shh!  It’s not done yet…”

“Not done? I…” Mr Giovanni, before being cut off with another wave.

“Shhh!” And then hand gestured for them to sit.

Izac and Mr Giovanni did as they were told and watched the dancers spring and glide to the piped-in music. Mr Giovanni sat back, evidently enjoying the spectacle, the horror, the drama, and the…anticipation of the climax. Izac tried to understand, at least so he could speak intelligently about it if asked.  

A sudden twitch from the Prince, and he disappeared from his seat to reappear on stage between the two performers.  One he embraced, like a lover, his mouth at their neck. The second, he held by the neck with a clawed hand, making them watch.  Blood started dripping down his front, creating a pool on the ground at the first dancer’s slippered feet.  As the second cried out in terror, the Prince dropped the first and stopped the cry with a bite.  Enraptured, Mr Giovanni sat on the edge of his seat, waiting for the moment the second dancer fell lifeless to the ground before leaping to his feet in raucous applause.  Izac was frozen in his seat.

“Thank you so much,” the Prince bowed to his audience, pleased at Mr Giovanni’s genuine response to his…performance. “Now, tell us. What do you both need?”

As a towel was brought out for the Prince and the bodies quickly wrapped in black bags and dragged away, the Prince left the stage, joining Mr Giovanni and the silent Izac in the seats.

“My Prince, I am merely a chauffeur tonight. Izac has beseeched this audience with you,” Mr Giovanni happily gestured to Izac, who looked like he might have run.

“Well, tell us, Mystery.  What have you got to say?”

“From the Bone Gnawers of Sydney, I have a request…” Izac looked around, now aware that anyone could be listening within the vast auditorium, “um..is there somewhere more…private?”

“Private?  What is wrong with here?” The Prince’s shaded eyes bore into him, and he stopped glancing around for watchers, “what can we do for you, child?”
“The…the Bone Gnawers..w-wish to conduct one of their traditions, and they would like your permission to carry it out.” 

“Of course, but you are asking, presumably to gain some favour from them. So you will owe me!” The Prince made a sharp retort.

“I…I offer my services as an intermediary to the werewolves if you need their consent in the future.” 

“That all depends if they can say no,” The Prince smiled knowingly. Still, a favour from you, I am definitely interested in that.” Those present did not miss the change in pronoun.

“Favour for a favour,” Izac agreed and almost breathed a sigh of relief. He may outlive this night yet.

“What is it they want again?” The Prince asked again.

“To conduct their tradition in the city.”
“Ah, the dumpster diving, of course they can. At least they asked this time.”

“I’ll pass on the good news to them.” Job done, time to go. Izac made to leave.

“Not…just yet. They can wait,” The Prince’s sunglasses turned on Mr Giovanni, “Dominic?”

“Yes, Prince Sarrasine?” He rose and faced the Prince.

“You can take a walk.” And the world dropped out from under Izac’s feet.

“Certainly,” Mr Giovanni said, walking back where they had come.

Izac was alone.

“Izac,” The Prince returned his shielded gaze to the young vampire, “let us take a walk.”

Luna sat and watched Rain. Sometime before Izac left, Rain’s eyes had…changed. They were still fixed in the same open stare but seemed…colourless somehow. Before, she couldn’t have said to look at him that Rain was awake in there, but now…it was like he was someplace else entirely. She sighed. Rain was paralysed and possessed, Izac and Mr Giovanni were off to talk to the Prince, Stallion was who knew where, and she was alone. It was almost like old times. 

Giuseppe watched through the crack in the Time Out room door at Rain and Luna.  The almost family and…the pretty one all together.  Now, if only Luna would let him in, just a slither like this door.  Let him in, and…oh…what fun they would have.

His phone bleeped, a text message from Stallion.

CAN YOU OPEN UP THE CARPARK? I HAVE A NEW RIDE TO KEEP SAFE.

With a sigh that meant something to a body that still breathed, Giuseppe took one long last glance at the poignant picture and left for the carpark.

“Nice wheels, “ Giuseppe said as Stallion carefully drove the Bronco into a free parking space. Bruce was there, too, working in the background.  He looked up long enough to satisfy his curiosity before returning to his menial task.

“Someone owed me a favour.  They just handed me the keys.” Stallion explained without giving details.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of that, “ Giuseppe tilted his head back towards the Time Out space, “do you want to see what’s going on in the party room?

“I’m heading here anyway. I’ve got bloody Luna’s laptop and stuff from uni..”

“We can keep that for her,” Bruce said helpfully.

“…got stuff for everyone. A set of playing cards…I don’t know how the tree would do in the freezer…”

“Why would you take a plant in the freezer,” Giuseppe had a little peak around the stuff in the back of the Bronco, finding the wrapped tree, “That doesn’t make any sense?”

“It’s Rain’s. I thought he’d like it.”

“It’s Rain’s,” Suddenly, Giuseppe was very interested in the tree, “I can look after it for him.”

“I was gonna let Luna hold onto it for the mo’.  I don’t know if she’s talked about it with Rain.”
“How would she speak to Rain?”

“Previously.  Those two are up to their own little things.”

“Sure, but they’re both busy at the moment, and I have plenty of time.”

“Well, if she’s fine with you looking after it, that’s her business.”
“Still, it’s not hers, is it?  You said it was Rain’s. We’ve been close too of late. He trusts me.”

“What do you mean by that?  He’s been asleep.”
“He’s not asleep,” Giuseppe grinned, recalling those tender moments alone. We shared a moment.”
“Wait?” Stallion reflected on Rain’s state of undress, Giuseppe’s insistence on being alone with Rain, “you took the stake out?”

“No, but you can get a sense for these sorts of things.”
“Did he try to enter your mind?” And now Stallion remembered the thought, not his own insisting on staying and not leaving Rain alone with Giuseppe.

“Oh, he did. Done it a couple of times already.”

Stallion didn’t think he wanted anymore to do with this conversation.

“Well…you can take Luna’s notebook and laptop. I’ll take the tree. We can sort it out when we get to the freezer.”

“Bruce can deal with the laptop.  He’s good with technology.”

“Yeah, “ Bruce added confidently, “the freezer is full of moisture it would be a terrible place to take the laptop.”

“Well…then, if she says anything, I’ll say you have it.” Stallion handed over the laptop and charger to the ever-helpful Bruce. One side of Giuseppe’s face wrinkled up into a wince…or was that supposed to be a wink at Bruce?

“Oh Bruce, “Stallion said as if just suddenly remembering, “As a thank you for helping me with Rain, I may have some money coming my way soon.  How much to not mention that…other thing that happened?”

“About what?” Bruce’s words sounded innocent, but his eyes were blank and hard.

“Exactly. Basically, if you say anything, I’ll tell Dominic.  It could make trouble for him if word gets around if some vampires…know what I know.”

Bruce laughed, “He can take care of himself. Besides, it’s you that’s causing trouble.”

Stallion watched as Bruce’s helpful expression turned into a knowing leer, “I didn’t do the hand waving, I didn’t try to BBQ anyone.”

“But you’re the only one who knows.”
“Not the only one.  I know you’re trying to be clever…And as for your question, I’d be fine with four million.”

The number was staggering.  Stallion’s exposure to that sort of wealth was measured in hours, and he physically bawked at the bribe.

“How about…no. Where do you think I will get that sort of money from?”

“Hey, that’s not my problem.  You’ve got forever, get some interest, compound that shit, and give me my money.”

“I’ll need to come back to you on that.”
“Three points each night it’s not paid.” 

Stallion’s Loan Shark experience bubbled to the surface of his consciousness.  

A third a per cent each day?!

With a wave of defeat and a shake of the head, Stallion left for the freezer, the plant still in its blanket in his hands.

Walking in the Botanical Gardens at night is a surreal experience for those used to the City’s streets.  Gone are the flashy lights, noise and bustle, replaced by the sounds of birds settling into sleep, bats’ soft leather wings flapping from tree to tree, the lapping of water at the harbour walls, and the wind through the boughs.  Many of the larger figs were lined with fairy lights, giving a soft ethereal glow to the cleared paths under their canopies. Many of the evening blooms release their soft perfumes, attracting the interest of nighttime visitors.  Under other circumstances, Izac would have loved to have walked here and shared this moment with Luna.  Instead, he moved like a dead man walking into the gloom of the groomed forest.

“It’s nice out here, isn’t it?” Prince Sarrasine asked as they entered one of the many rotundas around the park and took in the scenery, “Peaceful without all the food about.”

“Yes, it is,” Izac replied, the three words barely passing his constricted throat.

“I’ve brought you out here to ask for that favour.  You’ve been taught our traditions?”
“Mr Giovanni informed me of everything.”

“So, I’m going to ask that favour. It is within your power, and I want you to answer truthfully. Who and what are you?”
“I….am someone who didn’t want this…never looked for this,” Izac replied as honestly as he felt he could.

“That’s who you are.  What are you? Of the thirteen and the minors, which are you?”

Izac stayed silent. Prince Sarrasine’s eyes bored into Izac’s unblinkingly. His stood so still that in the dim light of the moon, he was indistinguishable from the marble statues nearby. The words would not come.

“We have until sunrise.”

“I have nothing to say,” Izac confessed and saw in those five words his death sentence. 

Izac became aware of a voice in his mind repeating until it echoed away.

Tell the truth…tell the truth…tell the truth…

He hadn’t told the truth before, and maybe it would be fine as long as he told the truth. 

“I was sired…embraced into the Children.”

“Which Children?”

“Osiris.”

Izac’s confession hung in the air as he waited for the Prince’s denouncement.

“Hmm, you didn’t strike me as a vampire hunter.”

“I’m not!” Izac pleaded.

“It’s what they are, “  The Prince saw the shock and sincerity in Izac’s expression, “huh, your sire didn’t do a very good job of teaching you.”
“No!  I was abandoned, thrown out onto the street to fend for myself… to become a…monster.”

“Well, at least now we know what you are.”

“What happens now?” The question, three words held a whole life in their meaning.

“A few things first.  You said you’d spent some time with your sire. What did they say your purpose was?”

With a heavy heart, Izac confessed, “they told me to find Dominic’s coterie.”

“Interesting,” The Prince said quietly, “Okay, I can work with this. Okay. You are safe.”

Izac blinked.  Had he heard correctly?  He’d confessed to being a monster that killed monsters. He’d admitted to being sent to find the coterie and infiltrate them. 

“I don’t believe you,” He blurted out in the Prince’s face.

“But now I know, and as far as I can gather, I’m the only one that knows.  It gives me…insurance. Unless you’d like more trust? Would you like a way for us to trust each other?”

“You’re offering me trust?”

“Clearly, though I understand you feel you have no power.  Keeping secrets isn’t very nice. I need to…we need to ensure we can trust each other.  If there’s anything we should know, you can tell us, and in turn, if anything important relating to who you are turns up, we could let you know.”

The Prince glided around the handrail of the rotunda, changing the view from the City’s light to the harbour’s dark waters lit by only the odd residential building and harbour navigation lights. 

“Sydney is not the whole world. There are prettier places…better places.  We have to deal with people like you constantly, but it is better to rule than to serve.  We made our choice.  You have a choice. Choice of an honest relationship.”

“Honesty,” Izac agreed with little hesitation.  He’d never been a liar.  It would be good to live without the burden.  It would be good to live without the fear.

“Thank you,” So quietly spoken, it was little more than a breath on the wind. With it, the Prince reached out and thrust his hand into Izac’s chest.

There was no cut, no pain, just the sudden and awful realisation that a hand was in his chest. Izac grabbed the Prince’s arm in shock.

“It’s okay, “ The Prince assured Izac as soothingly as Izac had seen Luna do for Rain.  A gentle, soothing voice, confident and kind, “just hold on, we’re almost done. I can’t do this every night,” And with a tug, the Prince pulled out Izac’s heart.  It lay, a small shrivelled purple thing in the palm of his hand.  

Izac stared in horror and incomprehension.  He could feel his consciousness fail, see the blackness creeping in at the edges of his vision and knew he would pass out.

“I had no choice…I’ve never had a choice!” He yelled, and the blackness abated, his consciousness sharpened.  He was lying on the ground at the Prince’s feet.

“That’s where you’re wrong.  You chose this!  And now this…” Thrusting his heart back in Izac’s face, “…is ours. And now, we can have an honest relationship. Complete and utter trust. Now, anytime, anywhere you go, I can just…” The Prince poked the heart with a finger, and Izac jumped as if hit by a lightning bolt. “You can be stopped.  Thank you, Izac.”

Izac picked himself up.

“That’s good. And don’t worry.  If you didn’t know what your sire had planned, they would have made you kill the coterie at some point.  I guess that ‘Good boy’ stuff makes more sense. They want to be human again. They’re…Indian givers. They give you this long life and then make you an assassin against those they think don’t deserve it.  They want to get rid of kindred…Cainites.  Hopefully, they can be forgiven.  But here and now, I will give you something better.  I forgive you.”

Stallion and a slouching Giuseppe made their way to Time Out and knocked on the door. Luna slid the door open but stood in the gap, glaring at Stallion.

“Yeah?”

“I have come bearing good news,” Stallion tried to step through Luna, but even though she was at least a foot shorter, she did not give way.

“See, about that,” She said, with as little relish as she could, “Dominic says only me, Giuseppe and Bruce allowed in.”

“Why?” Stallion asked, perplexed by his exclusion.

Luna shrugged.

Stallion turned to Giuseppe, “Would you tell if I entered?”

“No,” 

“And are you going to tell him I entered the room?” He faced her again.

She didn’t want to be alone, nor did she want to give in to Stallion’s demands, especially if he had no rights to them. Ultimately, she figured it wasn’t a fight worth winning and stepped aside.

“Thank you,” Giuseppe waddled in after Stallion.

“And as for the good news. Bruce has your laptop. You’ll probably want to leave and get it. It’s up to you.”

“Unless he wants to learn about Alexander the Great, there’s nothing to find there.  You could have just left it.”

“You should be grateful.  I thought you’d want to do some work…for your course.  I thought I’d save you the trouble of having to redo all your work.”

Luna knew Stallion was up to something. He was either acting dumb out of some craft or was just plain dumb.

“Speak plainly.”

“I went to the house to gather a few things before it was potentially burned down.  Went to see what I could see.”

“Why? Do you want me to leave the room?
“I didn’t want you to leave, but Rain’s okay. Giuseppe’s here.”

“Yeah, like he’s the reliable one here.”

Giuseppe wasn’t taking any notice of Luna and Stallion’s bickering.  He was watching the corpse that was Rain.  Staring as if he didn’t take in every detail now, it could be lost forever. 

“Aren’t you going to ask what I brought?” Stallion changed the subject and lifted the blanket off the tree.

Luna looked blankly at the tree, then back to Stallion, “What is this? A dumb attempt at giving comfort?”

“Something’s up with this plant, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Luna replied, her face a blank mask giving nothing away, “it’s just a fucking plant.  What do you want from me?  Put it in a safe place, maybe?”

“I noticed someone take an interest in it,” Stallion said.  Luna didn’t seem to care, but he knew there must be something going on with the plant, “they took a slither, actually.”
“What do you mean?” It was Luna’s turn for the twenty questions.

“I wasn’t the only one at the house. There were werewolves.”
“What are you playing at Stallion?”

“I went to salvage, and I found werewolves. They were pretty chill, actually. Didn’t mind me at all.”
“What? You or the company you were with?”

“What makes you say that?”
“Because if you were able to get past two werewolves, it would be fucking impressive.” 

“Then you’re calling me impressive.”
“No.  I’m calling you a liar.” She glared.

“I’m the one that confronted the werewolves.  All I had to do was show a little backbone.”

“Backbone or gall.  They’re two different things.” Luna counted and stood her ground.  

Stallion was bored of the bickering and tried to get Giuseppe’s attention.

“See Giuseppe, maybe it should be kept out of sight of others.”

“Huh?” Giuseppe replied only partially paying attention.

“Wake up, man. The plant.  Take care of it.”

“Oh, I can take care of it.”

Stallion rewrapped the blanket around the tree.

“Yeah, you kids have fun. I’ll stay here,” He looked back at Rain, his eyes glazing over as he sunk into his own tender daydream.

“Uh, he’s really…attentive to Rain, isn’t he?” Stallion said.

“I can’t tell if you’re thick or blind!” Luna snapped, infuriated with Stallion’s shenanigans, disgusted by Giuseppe’s lust.

“You know it wasn’t always like this.  You used to treat me better.”

“Ah, Luna, you better get your laptop,” Giuseppe said without lifting his eyes from Rain.

“And what leave you two alone with Rain, please.”

“It’s either that or you let Bruce put what he wants on your laptop.”

“Mother….fucker!” Luna whispered, her rage barely contained.

“That’s what he had planned?” Stallion pleaded ignorance, once more treading the line between innocence and craft.

“Of course, “ Giuseppe answered,” blackmail is easy. Especially when she has to explain the baby pictures.”

“I want to throw you into a wall,” Her threat was low and full of menace, but she knew she had to do something about the laptop now.

With a glide and a clunk, the freezer door closed behind her, and I was jolted back to reality. 

The creator wasn’t a human construct, they were real. The demons weren’t just other intelligent beings sharing the earth, they were the ones that fell to hell.  Hell exists, and for those like us, it was all there was. Oh God! Oh God!

“Do you need a drink buddy?  Don’t worry, I’m allowed to be here,” I heard Giuseppe say, drawing my attention.  Luna was gone. Stallion and Giuseppe stood around an object wrapped in my bedspread. What had I missed?

“You should go look after the tree. The freezer can’t be good for it.” Stallion responded. The tree was here? What was Stallion up to?

“Keep it out of sight, you said. It can stay here. It’s important.” Giuseppe turned to look at the tree, “You go.  You must be thirsty.”

“Hmm, I was hoping to have a moment alone with Rain. To talk to the wall, so to speak.”  Stallion was vying to get me alone?  Why? Out of all of us, he knew the power of diablerie.  Was that what he had in mind? I wondered what the Bane inside Stallion would do.  

“I’m allowed to be here, not you,” Giuseppe replied.  I was between my molester and my potential murderer.  Should I intervene? And then what? Scream into their heads?

“If you want, you can whisper to him.  He can hear you.”

“What, he can hear me?”

“Yeah, like those movies where people are in comas.  The whispers manifest in their coma dreams.”

 Stallion didn’t believe a word of it.

“Giuseppe.  I’m going to stick around.  If you’re going to do…anything weird…I’m not going to stop you.”

Giuseppe sighed, and his large eyes dropped and landed on me with a weight I could feel. His expression softened, and a small smile twitched at the corner of his lips.

“Do you think he’s pretty…for an older guy?”

“He’s tricky.  He has…a way of grabbing your attention.”

“Yeah,” Giuseppe’s expression darkened as his daydream turned to the potential nightmare of …what if?

“I really do hope that Uncle can fix Rain, “he said, and there was a genuine feeling of possible loss, like watching a beloved car be towed to the repair shop. It would be terrible if we can’t.”

“What is his problem?”

“Whose?”
“Rains.”
“If I had to assume, I’d probably say a life of denial.” What poor Giuseppe doesn’t know would fill phone books.  Oh well, let him believe it. It will make more sense to him when I finally do confront him.

“What?  You’ve got me there.”

“It’s alright. When you’re a bit older, you’ll understand.”

I watched the scene, contemplating sending Stallion mad with thoughts not his own or getting Giuseppe to do it by talking about what he wanted to do to me. In the end, I just let them talk. At least, while the two of them talked, they were leaving me alone.

“Want to play King’s Cup?” Giuseppe said, delaying his gratification for the present.  Now, that was a game for someone who knew how to cut a deck. Unfortunately, at the moment, that wasn’t me.

“What’s King’s Cup?” Stallion said once more, showing his terrible ignorance of the great traditions and cultural touchstones.

“You have some cards.  We have a cup between us.  Turn over a card and do what it says to do.  Take a drink, put a little blood in the cup, whatever.  Giovanni rules, of course.”
“Sure, “ Stallion shrugged, “it’ll pass the time.”

“Splendid.” 

They drew, both losing blood to the bowl they substituted for the King’s Cup. I watch as some fell past the cup.  Thankfully, none made it onto the bedspread under which the tree lay. A school bus or an accident with the King’s Cup in a metal-clad room.  I wondered how Mr Giovanni would deal with a Masquerade violation growing out of his pub.

Mr Giovanni was enjoying his walk.  He’d left the Opera House walked down to Circular Quay, watching the tourists, the few locals heading to early shift or heading home from late ones. A small knot of homeless had made a camp under the Carl Expressway at one end of the Quay, invisible to all the beautiful people walking by.  Mr Giovanni took in a breath of salt air and smiled. It had been an age since he just taken a moment for himself.  Now, with the childe, he never seemed to have a spare moment.  It was always this disaster or that Masquerade violation.  This was what he needed.  A little time out for himself. 

He looked around at the sea of cattle and smelled the air again.  Yes, it had been far too long. As if picking up on the scent of his prey, he spotted two likely candidates, a blonde and a brunette. The brunette was..mysterious and of indeterminate age.  A predator herself, a sleek creature in her tight black dress, sat outside a bar chatting with the men going in and out.  She’d catch and release them, looking for just the right one to take home that night.  Intriguing, but no.  She was more than Mr Giovanni wanted to deal with that night. He then saw the blonde in her late thirties.  Also alone, she looked wistfully out onto the harbour as if dreaming of the one, the good one, who would come by and sweep her off her feet. She, too, was stunning, dressed to impress but without the conscious predatory artistry. She was innocent, lovely and lonely.  

Yes, she will do nicely.

Drawing on all his Italian charm and his New York swagger, Dominic walked over to the blonde and joined her at the railing.

“It’s a beautiful night tonight. Why don’t you come with me.” He said in a low voice only for her.

“Is that how you start?  No name?  No drink? No! Let me take you to a quiet place so you can ram me against a wall. Shit! I knew Sydney was going downhill but wow! Why don’t you take your limp-wristed self away from here and leave me alone!”

She was making a scene.  Easily fixed.  Dominic fixed her with his stare and dominated.

Follow.

As he walked away, the blonde followed obediently behind, he was aware of eyes watching.  He knew what he looked like.  She’d started yelling and with one word she was cowered and compliant.  What did it matter, none of the cattle would leap to her aid, there were no knights in shining armour, never had been.

He walked around, circling and backtracking, making sure the eyes had forgotten them.  He then headed back to the homeless camp, deep in the shadows or the girders holding up the roadway and the rail station.

“What…what are we doing here?” She asked, the dominate only good for the one command.

Leaning in, he whispered in her ear, “They could really use some servicing over there, and I’m sure you’re ready to do it.”

And Dominic smiled as she turned on her pert heals and climbed the rough ground to the sleeping homeless.

Yes, this was a very good night.

Luna wasn’t interested in a stealth mission to retrieve her laptop.  She stormed through the VIP lounge, down the stairs and into the carpark reckless of the filthy looks and split drinks in her wake.  In a small pool of light at one end of the carpark, Bruce worked feverishly at her laptop.

“Give me my fucking laptop!” She said, barely slowing until she hit the wall that was Bruce.

“In a minute.”
“What do you mean in a minute, it’s my computer, give it back!”

“I’m doing something funny.” He laughed and continued to download files.

“Give me my shit!”
“I told you in a minute. Relax..relax Luna.”

Luna snatched the laptop from the worktable and scrolled through the dozens of files he’d added.  Not child porn as Giuseppe had suggested, but all things that would put her on a terrorist watch list for life.

“It’s fine.  You should thank me. Those contacts could be useful.”Bruce smirked, leaning confidently back on his workbench.  He was like all the bullies from her past in one place. Or maybe just one bully in particular.

“Yeah, fine for you, dipshit!”

“What did you say?” He turned on her, all pretence of the joking Bruce evaporating in the cold steel of his voice.

“Huh?” Luna she couldn’t do this, not this fight too, not without backup.  

Rain!  Why did you have to get yourself possessed?

“Don’t you walk away, what did you say?”

“Nothing. I have to go. I have Rain to look after.”

“One more chance, what did you say?”

“You want me to insult you to your face?”

“I have a recording device on me at all times.”
“Great, cool,” She turned to go again.

“Maybe you need to be a little honest.”

“I insulted you.” She confessed. There, now he had what he wanted. 

“Yep.”

“Well, you said you had the recording…have at it.”

“That’s the way you want to play it,” Bruce reached into a breast pocket but instead of revealing a small digital recorder, he pulled out a metallic disk the size of the five-cent piece.  He threw it at Luna’s laptop where it stuck to the screen.  The hard drive started whirling and, error messages flashed up before the laptop finally gave up and the screen went blank. 

“You had your choice.” He smirked again, and once more, Luna shuddered at memories of past battles, ones she could never win.

“Whatever. Alexander the Great is boring anyway.” Now he couldn’t hurt her anymore, she left, her broken laptop still clutched in her hands.

It was a blood-splattered bowl she saw first when Luna returned to Time Out.  Giuseppe, looking paler than usual, dripped blood into the bowl before turning over the next card.

“Seven, whose not destined for heaven?” He shot up his hand, still dripping blood splashing the ceiling of the metal box. Stallion was a fraction slower and had to add his own blood to the bowl.

Luna leaned against the wall, trying to steady her breathing, her laptop a shield in front.  

“I would have thought you’d get your notebook as well,” Stallion said, seeing her there.  He too looked wobbly on his legs. He also looked hungry.

“What? You only told me about the laptop.” She shoved off the wall, thought about confronting Bruce again and reconsidered, “It’s not in English. Good luck to him hacking into it.” She wanted to bash her head into the wall and be done with Stallion’s nonsense!

She looked across at me, judging, assessing something.  I thought to reach out, but each time I did I became hungrier and I already felt like a bottomless pit of raging hunger as it was. As she watched me, I saw her eyes glaze over as if she were hearing a voice.  Her beast’s voice.

All you have to do is pull the stake.  Help your brother out, It said and for the first time that night, she agreed with it.  

No, I’m going to do as I’ve been told.

Ah you’re learning.  Being a good and obedient little childe for Dominic.

No!  Forget that!  Luna’s rage bubbled up, I want to rage, I want to push back!

Then pull out the stake…be a true friend…he’s clearly in bondage…clearly shackled.

It’s fine, its fine, its fine...

No, the Liberation of Rain!  You can do it!

“Luna?  Hey Luna, are you there?” It was Stallion trying to get her attention.

‘Huh?”

“Yeah, so basically I’m going to let Dominic know about the werewolves when he comes back.  Actually, has he come back from his shopping trip yet?” He asked Giuseppe, “I forgot to look.”

 “He took Izac out for a walk,” Giuseppe replied, having failed the task on Stallion’s card and was filling the bowls again. 

“Well, as I said, the werewolves have taken over the place. I mean, they’ve marked it as their territory.”

What was this?  When did Stallion see werewolves?  Presumably, when he’d retrieved the plant and the laptop. How would he have known unless they introduced themselves as such? Francisco hadn’t.  I listened in.

“Excuse me?” Luna rounded on Stallion, that laptop looking more and more like a weapon than a shield.

“Yeah, we had a chat about it.”

“You struck a deal with them?”

“I never said that,” but neither had he denied it. What were more werewolves doing at my house? Francisco said he would be in touch, but by the tone of the conversation, I would have assumed a few days, not hours.

You need to free Rain! This is only going to get worse.  Rain needs to feel, do, act!  He needs be here!

It was all too much for Luna.  Putting all her body weight into the swing, she threw her laptop at the wall.  The casing buckled and the glass screen shattered spraying bright sparks of light onto the ground.

You need to calm down, or you’ll lose it. Maybe you should pull that stake out.

She left the freezer, slamming the door behind.

“Hey, Luna, I need to talk about something else.  Luna?”

Stallion looked like a man who needed to get things done.  He’d had a plan with the plant and Luna’s laptop.  He’d wanted to make himself look big, the man, by boasting about talking to werewolves, and now the game was no longer a distraction to him.

“As fun as this has been, Giuseppe, I have something I want to do with Luna.” He left the game, the cup to Giuseppe.
“Oh? So, are you asking me to leave?” Giuseppe asked, his eyes hooded against Stallion’s possible protests

“No, no, I’m leaving.”

“Oh good!” Giuseppe’s mood brightened considerably.  More alone time with me was just what he wanted.

Stallion left time out and returned to the keg freezer.  He once more laid out his circle of toothpicks, placed the skewers beside him and started the ritual again.  All was peace.  No raging Rain to spoil his concentration, no Bruce telling him what to do.  The ritual continued as it should and was completed successfully.  

Stallion let out a sigh of satisfaction and smiled.

I watched Luna go.  I followed her mind as she climbed up and up to the library.  Her refuge.  She picked up the book in Italian, the Chronicles of Issac and started trying to translate it.  I listened in, hearing her frustration as she tried to relate her modern Italian to its ancient root.  As she did, I followed along, seeing the patterns the language took.  Neither is one I’m familiar with, but both followed the same rules, including the root sounds and structure.  But the more she worked on it, the less sense she made from the text.  After twenty minutes, she had a mess of gobblygook scrawled across scraps of paper. She’d learnt nothing.

Look, it’s fine.  Keep it up, you’ll get it, I sent her all the encouragement I could.  I knew what it was to struggle for meaning. At least this was better than her going into a frenzy and…well, ending up like me.

Prince Sarrasine, the ruler of Sydney, now turned his benevolent sunglassed expression of peace and acceptance on Izac.

“Now, is there anything I should know about?”

“Thank you for the favour.”

“No, the pleasure was all mine.  Some free advice.  There is a saying: a leopard can’t change its spots, but a kindred can change its blood.  You can be something else if you like.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Izac nodded, “Is there anything else?”

“No, I’m enjoying the walk.  I’ll stay, listening to the beat of your heart. Leave.”

Izac turned and left, no longer heavy-hearted, there was no heart to be heavy.  He was a hollow man, walking an invisible line where one side was a life of continual fear, and the other was instant and permanent death.  Glancing back, he watched the man literally carrying his heart away further into the gardens.  The Prince seemed to be in a world of his own, bowing to people not there, holding conversations with ghosts from the past.  With a shake of his head, Izac searched for Mr Giovanni.

“Ah, Izac!” said his employer thirty minutes later when Izac found Mr Giovanni walking back from the Quay. I see you managed to stay alive. Congratulations!”

Izac did not acknowledge the comment but walked straight down into the spiralling carpark under Benelong Point.

In the freezer, Giuseppe was at the door, knocking, trying to get attention from outside. The door was not moving, which I found profoundly odd. Now was his chance. Bruce was busy in the carpark, preparing for war. Luna was still distracting herself with the difference between Italian and Latin irregular verbs, and Stallion was busy with his ritual. He had his chance. He had me all to himself.  

And yet, he was knocking to be let out.

That’s when I saw the far wall of Time Out freezer shimmer and melt. The veil between life and death was lifting, and something was coming through from the other side.

2.50 pm, 4 hours until Sunrise. 11 days until the Succubus Club

***************************************************************************************

Fight or Flight

“Get up.”
She could almost taste the gravel as the rocks’ sharp edges made caverns in the side of herface. Red blotches staining grey sit within the corner of her vision. Blazing liquid from her nosestreams down her face, coating her lips. The pain burns cold.
“Runt.”
Her body is being lifted. Her shirt digs into her windpipe. The cotton stretched, pulled, tuggedto its limit as he lifted her by the shirt. Her legs drag until they are forced to bear her weightagain.
“To roll with this group,” his words are clear but she can only make out his silhouette.
Suddenly she’s pushed backwards, her feet quick to roll with the motion and countering theblowback to steady herself straight again. The world spins. Her knuckles scream as she ballsher hands back into fists.
“You throw punches and you learn how to take them.” His outline is shortening the distance between them. He’s closing in.
There is only one word repeating in her head.
Fight. Fight. Fight.
…
Giovanni speaks as he normally does. A businessman. A CEO controlling the pieces below him believing he is in the know of everything but knows nothing.
Giuseppe, Bruce, Giovanni and herself. They have the clearance and yet Giovanni ignores her statements of the rest of the coterie knowing. No, the occult is for the family. She’s a special exception.
Dominic’s words are insignificant. A tape on repeat. All she cares about is the person sheknows heads this way.
Giovanni leaves.
A chain chimes, moving with no wind. Rain’s head is moved ever slightly northwest. Moving chains and lost objects returning. Paranormal activity doesn’t even make her double-take anymore.
She peers out the door. Izac, walking down the long hallway, smiles at her before they areface to face.
“Close your eyes.”
Izac does so without asking. She gently pulls him inside, turning him so his back faces Rain.
“Why are my eyes closed?” He asks as Luna takes a second to fix the wrinkles she’s caused in his jacket. He opens his eyes when she tells him to.
“Rain isn’t himself as you know but it is also occult related and I don’t think I have the wordsto properly explain or if you possess the knowledge to understand the jargon.”
“Ah, okay?” Her words don’t alleviate his confusion and yet he accepts her choices
nonetheless.
“The Prince. I need to tell you what Rain and I, mostly Rain, has found out. ‘Beware of the
False Flower’ is the first warning I got about the Prince. Do you know what vampire clan he is from?” Her question answered itself at Izac’s creasing brows.
“Rain, you know his clan?”
“Toreador, right?”
“Yes, a flower.” Her mind flickers for a second, recalling Bobby’s words. Flowers are best
alone.
She continues, “the Prince is not above eating his own. We believe it’s a mask. A false
flower.”
Izac is serious, his expression more focused as he nods with an accompanying, “I see.”
“I don’t know how deals with werewolves go but I know how they do with vampires.” Though Luna does not see or hear her anymore, every once in a while, she swears she sees the flick of a silver braid. The unrelenting stare of red reflected blue eyes.
“They want everything you’ll give them and more.” It seems the conditions of every deal.
Vying for everything you have, not everything you’ll give.
Her hand reaches the small distance between them, holding onto his left hand in her right.
His eyes on hers.
“The Prince owes me a favour. Whatever Mother Pasta is holding over your head I want tohelp with it. However I can.”
His hand squeezes her own, “you don’t have to.”
He won’t persuade her away from this. No. People like her live and die by loyalty. She has
nothing left to show people of the past. Because there is no one and that is the best her loyalty
will pay them. To those who do not exist because they can’t exist.
“I will.”
The declaration sits between them for a moment. Then another.
His left hand slips from her hold to dig into his jacket pocket. The notebook he produces is well used and Luna has seen it before. His stress writing at the bar and hiding in his room to scrawl on form-fit pages. The book is relatively unworn. The paper cover is only frayed and bent
at the edges due to time and a life in a jacket pocket. Two pieces of paper stick out from the
clean-cut style.
“…consider the rest of this my will and testament.”
“Take care of this while I’m gone.”
Luna has never had to do ‘goodbyes’. In all honesty, she’s only ever had to say goodbye to one person. She was raised that even something as final as death is but a simple hurdle. That there is always something next so there is never such a thing as a good-bye. That today is but a leeway for tomorrow. That there is always something else to study or fight so there is no end, only motion.
If she were to stop, if she were to test Newton’s first law, she would find herself crashing.
What will get her first? Her past or her fate?
She tucks the journal into one of her pockets. Filled with the sins of others. Filled with sins of her own.
Her hands move to her neck. This necklace she has worn for years. It’s been with her
through every test, every fight, every long night of partying and days of studying. It is the last thing that is hers. It was a gift from her mother.
Her neck feels odd without its familiar weight.
The chain is slightly shortened after being clasped around Izac’s neck. Her fingers work to tuck the silver under the collar of his shirt though the impression of the solid pendant isnoticeable.
“Hopefully this’ll protect you.”
Because she knows this situation is beyond praying. It goes deeper than belief or faith. It is relying on something purely human.
Hope.
Izac’s arms move from his sides to her own. Enclosing from her waist to her back. Her head falls into the nook of his shoulder and neck, her arms hooking around his shoulders. Her fingers grasping the curve of his shoulder blades. It’s different from their last embrace. Then, she was seeking her salvation. Now it is their salvation.
This moment lasts forever. It doesn’t last long enough.
Izac’s goodbye is enlaced in his hesitation before pulling away. In the last look they shared before he moved around her to leave.
“Be brave, Rain. There are people here that need you.”
Be brave. Rain also said those words.
Once more she is left with the body of a familiar friend turned into the Other.
She doesn’t know how much longer she can stare at this sight. Does not know how muchlonger she can stare at the powerless knowing she holds power.
…
Stallion.
Stallion’s the truest form of a neonate.
He’s more than obtuse the fucking angle he’s bending is a goddamn reflex.
He thinks he’s smart. He thinks he’s playing chess while everyone else is on checkers. No.
She’s not his imaginary fucking pawn as much as he believes she is. She won’t play in this nonexistent game. At every angle she presses he bends a different direction.
“You want to go get your laptop?” Stallion’s tone is smug. Pulling her around like a tug of war toy.
‘Yeah he’s just such a nice guy. You should thank him. Going out of his way for you, girl.’
Fucking patriarchy. She used to curb stomp guys like him for entertainment.
“What and leave you alone with Rain?” It’s bad enough she let him in with his fuck buddy Giuseppe.
“You’ll want to delete those kiddy pictures.” He’s used this tone before. That slight curling of his lips. Whatever complex he’s grown in the last couple hours will be his downfall. She returns to them with a corrupted laptop and a temper brewing below her skin. It’s evident when her eyes seek to check on Rain it only ignites the Beast’s voice.
Free him.
She wants to. She wants to do anything to bring Rain back but the best course of action is tokeep him how he is.
Free him from his chains.
They are all tangled up. They are here under Giovanni’s watch or out there choked by the Traditions.
You need to liberate Rain.
Who are they to control them? To control her?
It’ll only get worse from here. Free him.
She doesn’t notice the words she’s whispering. A reflective self soothing. “It’s fine. It’s fine-“
“Hey Luna!” When she doesn’t give Stallion her full attention he yells once more, “Luna!”
“Huh?” Her eyes snap to him and Giuseppe playing cards with a bowl of blood.
“Werewolves have taken a look at the basement.” That is the second time he’s mentioned werewolves and she knows it is not Mother Pasta’s pack because Stallion still breathes. Unlikely the group who struck a deal with Rain. A third group?
“Kinda taken over the place.” His nonchalant demeanour is sparking her rage. A match
above gasoline.
“Excuse me!?” She can feel her grip starting to indent the lid of the laptop. “What kind of
deal-“
“Who said deal?”
She feels the computer screen breaking. The match is being lit.
Her laptop explodes as it collides with the concrete wall of the cellar. The dispersing
fragments of the technology’s guts does little to quell her anger.
It’s not blood. It’s not bones. It’s not adrenaline to replace her rage. A substance to drown herself out.
“Hey Luna by the way-“
Fuck him. Fuck this situation. Rain can’t be saved. Not by her. They’re all damned.
Stallion can’t hear reason or hold an intelligent conversation. Fuck his antics.
There is no refuge. No respirate. Though only hours till sunrise this night is not done with
torturing her.
The library angers her. It calms her. She walks to a previously found La Congiura di Issac and threw it onto the table. Her next prey are sheets of paper and a pen.
Italian and Latin blend. She’s not reading. She’s barely writing. Just tracing familiar letter patterns onto a piece of paper. She’s not translating. She’s butchering one language through another.
She’s been closer to losing herself. This is the most disconnected she has felt since
becoming a vampire. She used to like being alone but now she is never alone. There is always a voice.
You can always run away.
Run from here. Run to her destiny. Run to her death.
Run. Run. Run.

Notable NPCs

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

Detective Woodman:  NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia.  He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.

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

Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.

Night Rider: Red-haired vampire?  Works for the Prince.

Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)

Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats

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.

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. 

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.