Please note: The following contains a character suffering from schizophrenia. It is not an accurate portrayal. Some do live active lives, while other are dragged down by their disability. Please behave with compassion anyone you meet you lives under its influence. For more information, WHO have an excellent fact sheet.
1.15 am 5 hours until sunrise Leichhardt
The walk back to the Crow bar was relatively uneventful until just around the corner, merely fifty metres from the bar door. My Auspex on, I was enraptured by the colours of the night around me when I noticed a sinister set of auras following. Circling black, violet and deep red, they spoke of a nature torn between conservative, hidden, lustful and passionate. Creepy, in other words. I quickened my pace, hoping to find an ally waiting for me at the bar.
And I did. Stallion stood outside, still in his formal best, looking less than pleased with his lot. His usually bright aura was the silver of sadness, and the black veins stood out against it like a vine choking the life out of its host.
“Stallion!” I jogged up, trying to put a bounce in my step to jolly him along, “I’m glad to see you,”
“Rain, nice to see a bright spot on this night,” He sounded down. Sober and sad. The sober was more disturbing.
“Say, I’m sorry I ditched you guys earlier tonight. I wasn’t thinking right, and..well, I’d be happy if you’d accept a small boon from me by way of an apology.”
If anything, the silver in his aura turned more grey.
“You don’t owe me nothing, Rain. If anything, I probably owe you.”
“Oh?” I was about to ask, feigning ignorance, when THE aura, moved up the street, and the person revealed themselves.
“Good evening, Guisseppi,” I said as Mr Giovanni’s nephew slunk out of the shadow towards the bar, “Is your uncle in?”
“No,” He slurped, his huge lips glossy with dripping saliva, “He’s at work.”
“Rookwood?” I asked, and he nodded, walking past and entering the bar. I shivered as he passed by, just a little too close for comfort.
“Anyway, going inside?” I asked Stallion as he continued to stand guard.
“Nope. Got me a casual job as a bouncer, and I’m here until Greg says my shift ends.”
“You’ve got a job?” I was sure my aura was spiking with deep green for envy, “That’s great for you!” He got a job first?! Out of the three of us?!!
“Yeah, it’s boring mostly, but I’m getting paid for it, so there’s that.”
“Yeah? Well, let me show you a few things that might make the evening more interesting,” And I started going through an ad-lib routine of street magic, card and coin tricks, with a puzzle, a joke or a juggling routine thrown in. People with places to be didn’t stop to watch. Those looking for a night out stopped for a while, with some even entering the bar. A couple even threw a coin that I quickly tossed into the routine and tried to disappear. Instead, it flew up and bounced off the canvas canopy in front of the bar and back into my hand. Being always ready for the unexpected, I threw up a few more, making a juggling routine out of what had been an accident.
“And thank you, sir, you enjoy your time at the Crow bar,” I added as the couple walked in. It didn’t hurt to show initiative for a potential new employer.
1.15 am 5 hours until sunrise. Rookwood
To the west, Luna was snapping her fangs at Madeline Blackwell, Mr Giovanni’s ghoul in the Coroner’s Court. Later, Luna would say that Madeline was being sassy, and I must say she did seem to have a possessive streak about her. Mr Giovanni sent Madeline home, and he and Luna packed up the lab.
“Luna, I wanted to ask you, what do you want to do with this life you chose? Did you choose?”
“Do any of us really have a choice, “ She replied fatalistically, as usual.
“I did,”
“I never liked being mortal anyway,” She shrugged.
“But you had wanted to be something at one time. You were a student, yes? What did you study?”
“Architecture,” She replied automatically, “But I guess there’s not much of a future in that for a vampire. How would I go out on-site? How would I see clients?”
“There’s a niche market for everything, even people who want an architect at night.” Mr Giovanni suggested, And I understand there are many possibilities on that new-fangled Internet. Hire yourself out online, via television conferencing and that sort of thing.
“Bit hard to go to Uni in the dark.”
From outside, both could hear incoherent screaming breaking the stillness of the cemetery at night. All talk of the future was put aside as they raced down the stairs and to the front door. Outside, a man was howling.
He was middle-aged, wearing a suit with a shaggy fur of hair on his head and face. Mr Giovanni recognised him instantly.
“Detective Woodman? Is there something I can help you with?”
“Wha? Who? Who are you? I don’t know you,” The Detective spun around, glaring at Mr Giovanni before his eyes drifted off somewhere beyond.
“Are you here for findings? Maybe I can be of assistance?”
“Bloodless…bloodless bones…” The Detective murmured before his eyes whipped back to Mr Giovanni with a penetrating stare, “Who are you again?”
“Bloodless, skinless, meatless. Are you referring to the Potts Point incident? Tragedy, only bone and ash remain.” Mr Giovanni glanced across at Luna, who was astonished by the Detective’s performance.
“Is he drunk?”
“You’re not dead, are you?” Detective Woodman looked from Mr Giovanni to Luna, who shrank against his mad gaze, “You don’t reside here? No, unless you sleep here.” Again, the penetrating stare gave way to mumbling and an empty look.
Mr Giovanni, by this time, was getting tired of the games. It had been a long and frustrating night, and he’d been looking forward to returning and tying up loose ends.
“Look, is there someone else I can speak to?”
“Huh?, the Notetaker…in the other room…” Detective Woodman garbled out in response before yelling in an almost incomprehensible babble, “Rvfghnbw, get out here!”
A young man, lightly framed and clean-shaven with huge glasses perched on his nose, appeared. He looked all of sixteen, but Luna and Mr Giovanni figured he was closer to twenty. He walked over to the Detective and flipped open a notebook.
“Yes, Chief?”
“You wanted to talk to him. What do you want to say?” The Detective glared once more at Mr Giovanni, who ignored him and addressed the new arrival.
“How much has he drunk?”
“Nothing,” The young man replied, “Seven days sober.”
“Is he so pickled he is naturally intoxicated?”
“Well, he’s natural, alright,” The young man gave his superior a sideways glance, and Mr Giovanni caught a look of admiration cross his face. So, there was more to the madman than met the eye.
“He’s a high-functioning schizophrenic since the…accident. Brain damaged and still putting away the bad guys.”
“Schizophrenic…and still a Detective?” Luna murmured under her breath.
Mr Giovanni tried again with the Detective, “So Officer,”
*Cough* “Detective,” Luna supplied.
“What information are you here for? What incident?”
“What’s your name?” Detective Woodman replied, now pacing back and forth.
“My name is Dominic Giovanni, the fourth. Evening coroner.”
“What’s your name again?” The words repeated to the beat of his footsteps.
“What is it you have come here for?”
“What’s your name again?”
Thoroughly exacerbated, Mr Giovanni turned back to the young man silently standing, taking notes,” Mr… Notetaker, I don’t believe I caught your name?”
“Oh, sorry. He gets like this sometimes,” The young man did not answer the question but gave his superior’s shoulder a shake. Suddenly,the distracted detective was gone, and the glaring, mad-eyed one was back.
“Are you related to the Giovanni’s of Vienna?”
Mr Giovanni took the question in his stride, “Not as far as I know. My family came to Australia via the United States. It is a common name, I understand.”
“Name…names travel…I don’t need your services… I don’t know you…I need the report on the bones…the bloodless bones.”
The moment the Detective took to finally get around to his topic, Mr Giovanni searched his memory for what he knew of the famous Detective Woodman. He had an impressive career stretching back more than eighteen years. In that time, he had solved 386 cases. Unfortunately, after a week-long bender he’d publicly gave a comedy performance about the benefits of suicide with his loaded service revolver. The bullet that he put through his brain that day hadn’t killed him, however. The brain damage had brought on symptoms of hearing voices, paranoia and disordered thoughts. Since coming back on duty he had solved 60 of the 386 cases and showed no sign of slowing down. It was in everyone’s best interests to give the man what he wanted and get out of his way.
The only concern was, what did he mean by bloodless bones?
“It was the Potts Point incident, “ Mr Giovanni supplied cooly, glad to be at the bottom of all the nonsense. He went back to his office, found the report and made a copy of the findings. On his return, he held out the report between Notetaker and the Detective. Notetaker took the report with thanks.
“And now that’s concluded. Good evening,” Mr Giovanni went to walk around Detective Woodman, now swaying on the spot, his head cocked to one side. Suddenly, he stepped in front of Mr Giovanni, who had to lean back not to crash into him.
“I ain’t done yet,” The Detective said menacingly.
“We’re closed and going home,” Mr Giovanni replied coldly.
“You gave me the paperwork too easy. Why did you do that, I wonder?”
“I recognised you, Detective Woodman.”
The menace disappeared, and a cheerful grin broke across his face.
“Yeah, I’m King Dick,” He laughed, “Ha, you must be the white sheep of your family.”
The Detective, satisfied for now, turned away, laughing and mumbling to himself. Notetaker thanked them again and ran after his boss.
“Eclectic,” Luna said.
“It has been a very unusual night,” Mr Giovanni shook his head.
And it wasn’t over yet.
1.45 am 4 hours until sunrise The Crow bar
“It all went wrong when I decided to give the Prince his gift,” Stallion told me between performing for pedestrians.
“The gift? The one you were working on. What happened?”
“I’d written a rap, you know, by way of introduction. We were all in it. He gave me tranq and then asked me to sing it to everyone. It was a bad idea.” He pulled out his large screen android and pulled up a page of notes, “Here, there’s the rap.”
I read it.
“You said that about Luna? After what Mr Giovanni told us?”
“It’s metaphorical, right? Shows she’s a badass.”
I appreciated the sentiment, but still, “I don’t think anyone at that party is going to imagine they mean sexually. And the puzzle box?”
“What’s wrong with that? Shows you’re a man of secrets.”
“Exactly, secrets to use against me. Maybe next time, run the wording past me?”
“But you weren’t there, Rain.”
Ouch. After Lenny, that hit harder than I think even Stallion intended.
“It’s fine, even this is fine.” I handed back his phone, “We’ll work through it, right? Together?”
“Sure.” He didn’t seem convinced, but my attention had been drawn to a black Jeep that had just pulled up.
“Look lively, the boss is here.”
My pocket vibrated, and I slipped behind Stallion for a moment to read the screen. It was a message from the Prince.
“SOMEBODY REMEMBERS THE SERBS.” I could hear the line being sung in a teasing, childlike tune. My blood ran cold. He knew.
The one secret that only three other people in the entire multiverse knew, and in one night, the Prince had worked it out. The daisy burned against the skin where it lay. I thought it had been clever. The weed amongst the roses of the Toreador. A symbol that would help me stand out. I hadn’t imagined someone would realise what it really meant. Still, it was long ago, and most had even forgotten it happened if they’d ever known. It wasn’t a problem.
At least, I hoped it wasn’t.
“Hey, are you alright?” Asked Stallion, turning around to find me frozen to the spot. My fingers found the keys to respond to the Prince and my voice to Stallion. “Yep.”
Luna flung open the car door and stormed up to Stallion. She was like a tiny red storm of fury as she reached up, grabbed Stallion’s collar and dragged him down to her height.
“I…you…wha….,” Her fury was so hot she couldn’t spit out the words. The beaten Stallion just took it. It was disturbing to watch. Finally, the words came, “…I should have left you on that fucking dance floor.”
“At least you’re talking to me,”
“Talk to you! You told everyone I’d…”
What Luna was going to tell the whole street at that moment was cut off by Mr Giovanni’s interruption.
“Now, now. No discussing personal business in public, have I not taught you to think before speaking? I agree. It’s a discussion for later, in private.” He turned to see me behind Stallion, still trying to work through the implications of the text.
“Rain, so glad you could finally join us. Have you two talked about tonight out here?”
“Cryptically, “ I replied as Stallion added, “Nothing important.”
Mr Gionvanni’s eyes moved from Stallion to me and back again before deciding to let it slide.
‘Mr Rain, a word in my office if you would be so kind. In private.”
I followed as he marched into the club. I gave Stallion and Luna a parting glance and followed.
We moved silently through the club and up the stairs to his office. Only when the door was closed, and he was satisfied we were alone, did he sit behind his desk.
“Just before you speak, I would like to apologise for earlier tonight,” I said, getting ahead of the argument. It never hurts to show a little humility. “I had intended to drive you all back to see the Prince, but a Higher calling drew me away,” I emphasised the last line. It was all I would say on the subject, as the Prince had made it clear he did not want me talking about our meeting. Still, I felt I owed Mr Giovanni that much.
“The others can think I’m a flake, but I want you to know that if I say I’m going to do something, I will to the best of my ability.”
He waved away my words, “That is not the subject I wish to broach with you,” He looked serious, and I wondered what else I could have done…that he knew about.
“How long have you been back?”
“About forty minutes, give or take.”
“And you know what happened with Stallion at the party?”
“I read it. That is to say, he showed me the words on his phone.”
His face balled up into a scowl that revealed his fangs, not something he usually displayed.
“That boy is as political as a goldfish looking for its next feed. He mentioned your puzzlebox. You know it will be used against you if it can.”
It was in my hand. I put it on the table in front of us.
“Yes, and I would like to discuss it with you. The box itself is just a puzzle box. It was given to me by Mr Solomon, remember I told you last night? He gave the gift of magic to a lost kid and gave them…hope. But the box isn’t my concern.”
I took the box back and flicked it open, revealing what lay inside. Tentatively, I placed the box back on the table.
On a silver chain, a simple silver locket lay open. Inside, the photograph of a young woman lay, long dark curls pulled back from her face by a red scarf.
“A family member? A paramour? Both?” Mr Gionvanni asked, examining the portrait. I was reminded of Luna’s assessment of the Giovanni bloodline and noted to let her know how right she was.
“Last time I saw her alive, I was probably no more than four years old.”
“Four? Your mother?” I nodded.
“And it is a sentimental piece to you?”
“Yes. It’s all I have of her…I don’t really remember…Yes, it could be used against me.”
“I see. Then you should lock it away somewhere safe,”
“That’s what I was thinking. I had hoped you could take…her. I pulled the locket out of the box and lay them side by side, “If anyone is going to try and screw me over with her, I’d rather it be you.”
Mr Giovanni went to pick up the locket but stayed his hand just above its polished surface. Instead, a look of intense concentration came over his face, and I was startled when his eyes, usually so black, flahsed white. He turned from the locket and up at me standing before him.
“Now that is interesting,” His eyes cleared, and he pulled his hand away from the locket, “You, Rain, are a Fetter for a Wraith.”
“What…sorry, I…”
“The young woman in the picture she’s standing behind you.” He gestured, and I spun around expecting nothing, only to see Avel just as I’d first seen her. She looked unhappy and concerned, and oh, God, what had I done? My vision greyed, and I had to rely on my hand to find the guest chair before I slipped to the ground. As it was, I hit that chair hard.
“Mama?”
She reached out a hand to stroke my face, but I could feel nothing.
“Mama, nisam znao. Žao mi je,” I said, falling into the old tongue, “I didn’t know you were still…with me.”
When I accepted Garcia’s offer, it was because I felt I’d lost the magic that Avel and my old companions represented. Garcia’s offer had been my chance at a way back. Unknowingly, I had enslaved her to that life as well. Avel’s expression changed from unhappy to pity and sympathy.
“You may have a smidge of the Necromatic art about you,” Mr Giovanni said conversationally as my head swam. I reached out to touch her, but as before, there was nothing to grasp hold of, and my hand quickly dropped back into my lap.
“There is no mistake. The safest place for her…is with you.”
“W..with me?”
“Yes, you, not the locket, is her Fetter. She is tied to this realm while you exist,” He said conversationally, then realised I was not keeping up, “What do you know about wraiths?”
I didn’t like the sound of that name, “No…nothing. She’s my mother, not some…boogyman.”
“Nevertheless, that is what she is. You are a target for anyone who knows she exists. If you are dominated, then they will control her as well.”
I like the sound of that even less, but at least I felt up to that challenge, “Mr Giovanni, “ I said. “I manipulated others. They don’t manipulate me.”
“Still, we’ve just made a public showing. I did not notice her there, but neither was I looking. It is possible that someone at Elisium could have made that connection?”
Someone? Who? My head was already spinning with the implication that Avel had been with me all along. I leaned my head into my hands and took a few calming breaths. Even for me, things were moving too fast.
“Would you like a few moments alone?” Mr Giovanni said gently, and I accepted his offer. I didn’t look up as he left the room.
“I’m really sorry about everything, Avel. This…this is not what I intended at all,” I said, looking back at her concerned face. Something passed across it. Frustration? She looked around and glided across to Mr Giovanni’s chair. A pen and a small, thin pad of paper were the only things to litter its pristine surface. She opened the pad to reveal cheques. It was a business chequebook. Concentrating, she picked up the pen and wrote.
BEWARE THE FAKE ROSE.
Before I could ask, she started another line.
I WILL SEE YOU SOON.
The pen dropped to the chequebook, and Avel disapparated as if she never existed.
“Beware the fake rose?” I had only met two, as far as I knew. Garcia and the Prince. There would have been others at the party…it was impossible to tell. As I worked through my mother’s parting words, I tore the cheque and stub from the chequebook. With a second thought, I took another two and tore the lot into pieces. I would tell Mr Giovanni I had destroyed the cheques, he would notice anyway. The notes, I wanted to keep to myself for the time being. With a handful of torn paper, I left the office searching for fire.
2.20 am 4 hours until sunrise, Outside the Crow bar
Though Stallion was being paid to stand guard outside the bar, Luna was not. And yet, in her voluminous red ball gown, she stood beside him, watching the world go by. And it has to be said that even in the gown, she looked like trouble. Side by side, they had the appearance of the most unlikely couple to go to the Year 12 formal. They were fancy dress bouncers, surrounded by a sea of people having a good time, and they both wished they were as well.
“Do you think Mr G is chewing out Rain for leaving us?” Stallion asked after ten minutes had passed, and neither of us had appeared.
“I don’t think so, “ Luna thought, “I didn’t get the impression that Mr Giovanni was too concerned, but they have been gone a long time.”
“Say, I bet you couldn’t beat me at a game of rock, paper, scissors,” Stallion held out his fist, ready to play.
“Oh, you do, do you? Best out of three?”
“Nah, let’s make it a game. Best out of five.”
And so they went through the time-honoured tradition. Raising and lowering their fists in time to the words, together they recited the litany, “Rock, paper, scissors!” On the third strike, they revealed their choices. Stallion won the first round and Luna the second. Stallion won the third, but Luna finally beat him in the last two rounds.
“Hey, you got one over me,” Stallion said, not feeling so bad about losing.
“Who knew,” Luna smiled, thinking maybe the idiot wasn’t so bad after all.
“Come on, let’s go back into the club.”
“ I can’t, I’m on the job. Can’t disobey.”
“Being a good dog, are you?” She teased, but the remark only reminded Stallion of his humiliation.
“I’m not a dog,” He said seriously as Mr Giovanni finally walked down the stairs and back to where they stood at the entrance.
“Luna, you don’t have to stand here. He’s getting paid.” Mr Giovanni gestured to Stallion.
“I can go inside and party?”
“Find a meal, relax.” He said, and with her victory in hand, Luna sauntered inside.
“As for you, I’d suggest you’re last meal would still be settling?” He glared at Stallion, who had the good grace to look apologetic, “As for punishments, how did you get out of the freezer?”
“Huh? I woke up in the dark. I didn’t feel so good, so I sobered up a bit. I found the door and pushed it open. Damn stupid place for boxes.” He replied as if it had been an everyday occurrence.
“ You opened a locked freezer door and pushed aside the boxes before it? Alone?”
“Ur…yeah.”
Mr Giovanni left to see the Freezer for himself.
I was already in the basement looking for a way to burn the cheques. I’d seen the boxes in front of the fridge door, but it wasn’t my concern. I needed to protect Avel. There is a small boiler down here, a furnace that probably saw little use in Syney’s Mediterrian climate but was in serviceable condition. As the pilot light jumped to life, I felt a real jolt of disgust and fear. I usually like fire. I can happily sit and play with the flame of a candle or stare into the complicated patterns found in a fireplace. I’d never felt such visceral fear of fire. I threw in the torn pages and watched them burn, pushing against this new unrequested sensation but noting it regardless.
I was heading back to the freezer. Something should probably be done about the boxes, but was I the person to do that something? Mr Giovanni, walking down the stairs, caught me in contemplation.
“Oh, good. You don’t mind helping me with these boxes, do you? I’d like to see what mess Stallion has made of my freezer door.” Together, we pushed the boxes to one side, and the freezer door swung open, one hinge broken and the other held on at an angle.
“You put Stallion in here?” I asked as the door swung open to reveal half a dozen bodies, all on meat hooks. I recognised the faces of the VIPs from the night before and saw a few new ones. Flashes of bodies, lying in a jumble in the bottom of a pit, some still stand upright, held up by those who fell around them. The flashback broke Mr Giovanni’s reply.
“Well, where else would you suggest I stick an off-his-face vampire with superhuman strength?”
I had to admit I didn’t have a good answer.
“It was meant to be a punishment for his stupid stunt. He pushed right through the hinges, the lock and these boxes as if they weren’t here.”
“I know you are prudent, Mr Giovanni, but isn’t this a little more than putting aside a meal for a rainy day?”
“Oh, this isn’t food. It’s business.”
“There’s a market in kin frozen meals?”
“They’re marketed as chilled.”
On the topic of business, one of the many topics that had completely escaped me now came to my attention.
“Mr Giovanni. I noticed you don’t hire a host for the main bar. A host can warm up the crowd for a headline act. Keep them amused and happily buying drinks. They can keep an eye out for troublemakers and often nip any problems in the bud. I was wondering if you’d consider me as a host either here or at any other of your establishments?”
“A host, possibly. I could do with a host for the VIP lounge. Selecting and delivering…produce for market.” He tapped the door. I thought of the dead face of the terrified, paranoid from the previous night. He probably didn’t deserve that death, but it would have been quick, and far worse happened to far better in this world.”
“Would I get to choose?” I asked. As I think about this, it seems very cold. At the time, I thought I could make sure I was thinning out the gene pool of arseholes.
“We acquire what the market asks for,” Mr Giovanni replied in the same cool manner.
I shoved aside the thought of what Avel would think about this arrangement. She didn’t need the safety of a roof. Others did.
“Well, it will be a new twist to an old job,” I agreed, and we walked upstairs to make arrangements with Greg.
Luna was a bright red spot, sitting alone in a club full of happy people. I could just see, in the shadows off-stage, that Guisseppe was watching her. The whites of his eyes glowed in the darkness. By the way she was sitting, I think she’d seen him as well. Greg, Mr Giovanni and I arranged a few dates for general hosting in the main bar and once-a-week hosting for the ‘VIP lounge’. I ensured that Divine Intervention’s date at the Succubus Club was free and added a rider to my arrangements. Any bet for a drink I won would be paid out at the end of the night. It was a small perk I’d been able to land in previous gigs that helped bolster the sometimes abysmal wages. When everything was settled satisfactorily, I crossed the club and collapsed into a chair beside Luna.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” She said with a small smile that gave me heart. Though alone, she wasn’t lonely. Some people like being an island, so I’m told. She certainly was. Though muted and black as usual, her aura had a light blue glow. It seemed the storm of fury had passed to leave calm and contentment.
“I just came over to apologise for leaving earlier this evening. “
She sniffed and shook her head, “You overthink stuff. Don’t worry about it.” She was probably right. Certainly, the others seemed to agree.
“And I’m sorry what happened at the party. It was your night and…”
“Stallion is an idiot, but he’s our idiot, right?” She said, like someone with a little perspective on a painful experience. I couldn’t imagine what had happened to change her opinion, “Like, he just doesn’t think, but it’s that spontaneous goofball nature that makes him sort of likeable.”
“Sure, but has he been different since Milk Beach? He seems sort of miserable.”
“You mean after…” she mimed, drinking a glass dry, and I nodded, “Well, so he should be miserable.”
“It’s just his aura…did you know I see auras now?”
“No, you see auras? Why not? It goes with vampires and werewolves and whatever else.”
And wraith mothers.
“Anyway, his aura was always bright. Now it’s bound up by black vines or veins, same as the guy’s.”
“The guys had black?”
“Yeah,” I thought over my interactions with Stallion this evening. His ego had taken a beating. He was bound to be a little depressed with himself, ”Oh, maybe you’re right, maybe I overthink stuff.” I dragged my hands across my face. Stallion, Avel, The Prince, the job, a place to stay. It was all a little too much for one night. What I wouldn’t have given for a bottle of single malt.
“You look unhappy,” Luna surprised me, “Is there something you wanted to talk about.”
God yes! My heart cried.
“We have a few hours left. Do you have someplace to stay today?”
“No. Everything has been such a whirlwind. Do you think Mr Giovanni would let us stay here?”
As if speaking his name made him appear, Mr Giovanni came strolling into the club, Stallion in his wake.
“Well, Stallion has agreed to fix the door to my freezer and to stay on, at least for the time being, as a bouncer. What are you two doing with yourselves?”
“We were just discussing that,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “With all the excitement, we haven’t worked out where we’re going to stay today.”
“It has been taxing, “ Mr Giovanni agreed and let down his guard just enough to share that he, too, had felt weighed down by the night’s events, “I will inform the hotel to open your rooms to you for today.”
“Thank you, Mr Giovanni.”
“And can I suggest that we share phone numbers so we can keep each other informed if similar events occur?”
God, where was my head?
“Yes!” The puzzlebox disappeared, replaced by my smartphone, “I was desperate to get in touch with one of you tonight.”
“As to your devotion to those supposedly smart devices. Can I suggest tracking through such devices is far easier than through a simple mobile.”
“Right, a new-old flip phone, “ Luna noted, and Stallion nodded his agreement. I, on the other hand, stayed silent and gratefully received the phone numbers of my coterie.
As we left the Crow bar to return to our rooms for a day’s rest, I texted the Prince.
SORRY IT’S LATE. CAN I GET THAT FAVOUR?
OF COURSE
3.40 am 2 hours until sunrise
Notable NPCs
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni. Some sort of relative of Mr Giovanni.
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, that works at the State Coroners Court.
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Aura colours and their meanings (a work in progress)
Black: darkness, often veins or vines
Dark Green: Envy
Dark Red: Lust, passion
Grey: Depression
Light blue: Calm
Orange: Anxious
Purple:
Silver: Sad
TV static: agitated
Vermillion: Pleasure, happiness.
Violet:
White: Innocence
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.
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
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.
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, more resilient and sometimes 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.
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
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
*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.
She was just as I’d left her. Cold, dark, dank and dirty. The sound of snoring echoed through her empty interior. The old girl was a hundred and twelve years old and looked it. But like much in her time, she was built to last and had, through constant upheaval in a city that never seems to stop changing. The thick hardwood floor repeated the tapping of my dress shoes as I crossed the room and climbed the stairs. Here, the auras were colourless. Greys, light blues if they were lucky. I spotted an irregular visitor I recognised hunched up against the wall as I arrived on the second floor. Orange and Violet
A Strange Life 