8.50pm Friday 10 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club Enroute
THANKS FOR LAST NIGHT I REALLY NEEDED TO LET OFF SOME STEAM. HOW ARE YOU FEELING?
I texted Brendan as the limousine rolled sedately over the ANZAC bridge and down into the canyons of the city towards the State Theatre. Father was trying to get the family to play nice together, but it was clear that Luna and Izac only wanted their own company and Stallion slouched along like a disgruntled teenager. For my part, I was excited at the thought of a night at the theatre.
Outside of a few friends’ performances, going to the theatre in Sydney was a luxury I couldn’t imagine. The bonus that the night’s performance was a theatrical version of Dracula by Bram Stoker was an irony I wasn’t going to overlook. Real vampires at a play written by a vampire about his life in a world that believes it is all fiction. I was impressed with Vlad’s boldness in putting his life out for everyone to see. Brashly ignoring the tenets so successfully that even the mightiest who would see him to his final death can’t touch him. What would it be like to feel that invincible? It was sort of…inspiring.
I looked at my phone. No reply.
The limousine rolled up in front of a theatre entrance of carved golden sandstone (a particular feature of Sydney) and tiles lit by circles of lights like chandeliers. Stepping out of the car, I took in the spectacle. I must have walked up and down Market Street dozens of times and never seen this wonder hidden in the city’s depths.
Inside was an even more glorious spectacle of Art Nuevo. Warm golden marble lined every surface that wasn’t covered with an intricately laid mosaic in the form of a compass rose and geometric patterns. Grecian-styled statued stood in niches made for them below rich velvet draperies. At the base of a double staircase, two bronze candelabras lit the scene. If this jewel could lie hidden from sight, what other mysteries did the City hold?
As Dominic claimed the tickets, his childe stood in a huddle, watching the crowd around us. This was far too good an opportunity not to view the world through Auspex, so turned it on and revelled in the colours around me. Excited violet, generous rose, and happy vermillion mingled through the crowd of kin and kine alike. And there were kin, as soon as I put on Auspex several turned to look at me as if I’d laughed too loud, their colours suspicious…curious. I was momentarily stunned they could tell, but didn’t let it worry me and gave them a short bow and a wave-like salute, recognising their attention.
Luna had been quietly watching a group for a short while when she slapped me with the back of her hand and pointed out a character wearing a skull masquerade mask in flashy robes, enthusiastically talking to two other vampires. In fact, there were three groups of vampires, quietly talking and seemingly ignoring the others around a smiling Prince Sarrasine. One seemed to be two kin hidden behind obfuscate illusions as they talked to a tall, curly-headed man in a studded leather jacket. In the second, two talked as a third with long, greasy hair stood and listened, a head flask in one hand. The third held Skull-mask and a small group of followers, who copied my actions flawlessly. The quiet one with the long hair tilted his head in my direction and gave a little gun salute. Taking that as a positive sign, I made my way through the crowd towards him.
Dominic handed out the tickets and noticed where Luna was watching. He scowled, recognising the long-haired kindred from New York, a Tzimisce called Lambach Ruthven. A raving fool, but one still given some level of respect amongst his clan. His scowl only deepened as he saw me walk up to the venerable kin without introduction.
“Hello there, child,” said the vampire with long hair in a deep and rich voice with Eastern European tones, though with a distinct New York accent. I felt almost at home in that voice, and now spoken to, was free to communicate with my elder and supposedly better.
“Good evening, sir. It’s a lovely night. Looking forward to the performance?” It was banal drivel, but with a purpose. This was about drawing him out without being too obnoxious or rude. Regardless of what Dominic thinks, I do know how to carry myself in social situations.
“Just reliving memories,” he replied cryptically, much like the Prince. It was as if, with all their accumulated history, they’d rather interact through their memories. Or he was drunk. It could have been both.
“So, you knew the… original?” I gestured to the closed doors of the theatre itself by way of explanation. Eastern European, old, it wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine their paths had crossed.
“Oh, I know him,” He said adamantly, confirming my suspicions but providing no other details.
“Fascinating. My name is Rain,” I held out a hand, unsure of etiquette in such a situation, “I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Charmed,” He took my hand.
“You’re accent is delightful. What part of the world do you originally come from?” I asked, sure that my own held a similar taint I’d been unable to drop over the years.
“What a question…” He said, and I felt a tingle as I realised I’d stepped over some invisible line. Dammit, this was exactly the sort of thing I’d been fearing, “Tell me, how old are you?”
“Ah, you are correct, sir. I am but a babe to this world. Lost in its canyons of culture that trip me up and make me stumble.”
“In that case, the Black Forest will suffice.”
Not exactly where I’d placed him, but still a place evoking stories and myths for centuries. A strip of land inside the German border, often squabbled over by forces from future France and Switzerland. A place where magic was known to happen.
“A mysterious land, full of myth and legends,” I said, hoping that his chosen topic may draw him out.
“If that’s how you choose to describe it. Sure, “He dismissed my reply as I felt he was dismissing me. He started scanning the crowd.
“How would you describe it, sir?”
“An ocean of blood. Towers of flesh. Souls as black as the forest itself.”
“Terrible, but great stories,” I replied, trying to match his tone, but I felt I was missing my audience with this one.
“Hmm, surely you’re not here by yourself?” He asked, and another ‘in’ presented itself.
“No, I’m here with my coterie…”
“And where are they?”
I pointed them out. His interest was piqued when he saw Dominic.
“How many are you?”
“There’s five of us, including our adopted sire, Mr Giovanni.”
“You’re missing one.”
“Am I?” I glanced around. Izac was missing from the group. I soon found his tall, lanky frame and yellow and orange static aura edging around the outskirts of the growing crowd, “I couldn’t say where he’s gone.”
I watched as Izac’s aura edged right into a vermillion and violet aura draped with black vines, that of a very pleased Prince Sarrasine.
9.10 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club The State Theatre
“And what are you doing all by yourself?” The Prince cooed at Izac, stopping the young vampire in his tracks, “Just the two of us, all alone.”
“I didn’t expect you to come to the theatre,” Izac lifted his chin and did his best to stand his ground.
“We always do. It’s always good to study,” The Prince replied cryptically as ever.
Izac ignored it and ploughed ahead, “Reminiscing on old times still?”
“More like…I’m taking notes.”
“A studious man?”
“We have to be. One has to know their enemies.”
“And just who are your enemies exactly?”
“Well, We have our corner of the world here, and he has his over there,” Not naming a name, but it wasn’t required when Dracula was splashed, dripping crimson, across every poster, “There’s always some truth to be gleaned from the sad little fictions we make for ourselves.”
“Is there anything I can do for you tonight?” Izac asked, hoping the answer would be no.
“Maybe. Maybe, We’ll see how you go.” The Prince glanced over the crowd but gave no sign he saw any of us, “Making friends, I trust.”
“Always,” Izac replied and couldn’t help but make a snarky comment, “I assume you’re not taking part in the performance tonight?”
“No…no,” The Prince recalled the last performance he’d given in front of Izac and smiled at the memory.
“Oh, really, but you did such a good job last time,” Sarcasm is not Izac’s strongest card.
“Of course, but this is beneath Us.” And Izac noted the use of the Royal ‘we’.
“You can do whatever you like,” The Prince waved at Izac as if he were as free to do as his heart desired. Shame he didn’t know where it was. ”With our dispensation and permission, of course.”
And with that little reminder of what control he held, Izac was dismissed.
“I guess I should be getting back to the others,” He said and started backing away.
“You should,” The Prince agreed, glancing over at the rest of us, standing near the long-haired kin, “It looks as though they’re having fun with the Russian.”
“Friend of yours?
“No,” The Prince replied empathically and gave no other explanation.
Surprised by the Prince’s seeming forthrightness, Izac did a double-take, but he couldn’t get a read on what the monosyllabic answer meant.
“Be careful around that one. He’s old and does command some power.”
“Is he liable to cause problems?”
“Not for one such as Us, but to you? Your coterie? I feel you together would not be able to beat him.” It almost sounded like a challenge.
“Thanks for the information.”
“Be careful. He might turn you into a tuning fork.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Then be friendly. Be merry. Be a Pal,” The Prince smiled, and Izac decided his tolerance for the Prince’s cryptic threats had reached its limit.
“You have yourself a nice night. My Prince.”
“I’d tell you to behave yourself, but We don’t think We need to tell you that.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I could see the Prince smirking at Izac’s discomfort. His depressed and anxious colours swirled into a cloud of red anger, bitter brown and purple aggression. Izac’s baleful eyes met mine across the crowd. I didn’t need to read his mind to see the anger dissolve under a heavy blanket of gold-edge grey, a depression only made brighter by his faith in his cause to make things better, the poor fool. He was trapped between two powers, and feeling lost.
“Would you like to meet my coterie?” I asked the long-haired vampire whose name still alluded me.
“I’ll probably not care for them very much, but you’re young, and you probably need to learn things from these petty distractions,”
“Willing and able to learn, yes,” I caught Dominic’s malevolent eye and ushered them all over. Stallion rolled his eyes, clearly displaying he didn’t care. Luna was searching and finally found Izac. Dominic looked like he’d like to be anywhere besides talking to the Stranger, but he still tapped the others on the shoulder and drew them along.
“It seems we picked a very opportune night, Mr Giovanni,” I said once they were in conversational earshot.
“Greetings, Lambach. It’s been a long time since New York.”
“Yes. I’m surprised you got out of that city, I know how your kind like it there.” I was starting to regret the introduction.
“New York always holds a…certain place in my heart,” Dominic agreed with his words but seemed ready to lash out at Lambach. There was history there, and it was good to see Dominic could hold his own.
“Wherever you are, you always seem to get a profit out of it,” Lambach bit back, hardly a slur in a business town like Sydney, and Dominic took it as a compliment.
“Well, we are good at doing that.” He laughed quietly, as if they were old friends, not slinging insults at each other, “I still have business interests in New York.”
“Bad times, though. Many go underground or are eaten out by the natives for them to be destroyed in return. It just keeps happening.”
I watched as Lambach’s aura swirled aggressive purple, angry red and bitter brown. Was he blaming the Giovanni’s or even Dominic himself for the atrocities that happened in New York?
“It does seem to be a regular juggling act as to who’s in charge there,” Dominic agreed. In that, they seemed to be united. I’d spent a bit of time there a few years before, and the city had been going through an urban renewal. To think, just under the surface, a civil war of sorts was destroying an ancient society.
“And the Giovanni’s playing both sides.” A barefaced accusation, smoothly dealt with by Dominic’s calm hand.
“I like to think of it as playing no sides.”
Suddenly, Lambach seemed to bore of the game they’d been playing and turned his attention to the coterie.
“And these, your childe?” He asked incredulously.
“These are my adoptive childe. I believe Stallion here has similar taste to yours, “ Giovanni dropped, and now we all knew. Lambach liked his blood tainted just like Stallion.
Lambach, in turn took notice of Stallion, “At the end of this, would you introduce me to your herd?”
“Hmm…ur…what do you mean herd?” Stallion asked, now finding himself the centre of attention.
“They are fresh, aren’t they?” Lambach turned back to Dominic.
“They’re only a few months out of the ground,” He supplied.
“If I wished to eat, “ Lambach turned back to Stallion and, if talking to an idiot, enunciated clearly and slowly, “would you provide a meal?”
“Ah, yes, I can always do that,” Stallion replied with all confidence. I didn’t doubt his ability to hunt, but to capture someone without breaking the Masquerade? Only at the Crow Bar.
“For a friend of Giovanni is a friend of mine,” He added, and the elder vampires smirked at the mutual joke.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Dominic said as Lambach laughed darkly and without humour.
“No, if you would be so kind to offer a meal, guilt-free, no headaches, one would be indebted,” Lambach continued.
“It could be arranged,” Dominic answered. It was his coterie, and would be in his domain, it only made sense, but Lambach seemed to take offence at the offer.
“Not you, from him,” Lambach pointed at Stallion.
“Ah, you want the personal delivery,”
“Or just arrange it at the very least, “ His bloodshot eyes glanced back over at Dominic, “I trust the dogman over you. No offence meant to you…Stallion,” Lambach was becoming more and more incoherent as his latest meal took effect.
“I’m pretty sure some have heard about the rap I made,” Stallion replied as something of nonsequitur. I’d thought we’d agreed that it was a bad idea to mention the rap, but who knew what he remembered these days.
“I’m no mere dog. I’m the lion.”
“Quaint,” Labach replied and now turned his attention to Luna, “And you, young girl. There’s something dark about you.”
“We’re all part of the night. We’re bound to be dark,” Luna replied smoothly.
“Poetic…no, you’re not a Toreador, but that’s a good hussle. I guess it’s just one of the many secrets.”
“I’m sure you have plenty,” She retorted, catching his attention.
“Surprisingly, no, and the ones I do know… no one cares to believe.”
“Does that make them real secrets or not?” She teased back, daring him.
“Probably not, no. The only apparent secret I have is…” And he paused, teasing back.
“That secret being?” Luna took the bait.
“Well, you are intriguing. If you tell me what you are, I’ll tell you the secret.”
I looked at Luna at that moment. Had she changed so much that she no longer registered as Brujah? Was the darkness I was seeing a new bloodline? I may have been reading too much into it, Luna had always said I overthought things. But, it would explain why she was no longer my Luna.
For her part, Luna thought silently.
“All you have to do is come close to my ear,” Labach said, holding out his hand.
She shrugged and leaned into his hand, and it grew an ear.
I’ve been changed from what I once was.
What he heard amused him, and he smiled, “ Move closer to hear my secret,” He said, and the ear turned into a mouth.
I am here to see the performance of my child.
Whatever he said to her sent his aura silver, and an expression of guilt or shame flicker across his face. He dropped his hands and put on an unaffected expression, “Of course, I tell you this purely because you are of no consequence.”
Behind her, we all winced, but Luna seemed to take it better than usual. A nod of the head acknowledging the statement, and she rose without another word.
It was then that Izac rejoined the group, pointing out the arrival of the ushers and the opening of the gold doors into the theatre proper. Giving Lambach our farewells, we headed to our seats.
9.20 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club The State Theatre
We had seats D13 -18 on the Mezzanine level, Izac in the aisle, then Luna, Dominic, Stallion, and finally me, with a seat between me and the next audience member. The show was sold out, clear by how quickly the crowd filled the auditorium. From our seats, we could see Lambach stumble to his seat close to the stage, row B of the stalls. Somewhere above us the Prince was sitting with the group, which included Skull-mask. The joyous curly-haired kin in the leather jacket was just above us in the perfect seats, H30, in the centre of the auditorium.
“Good work surviving again,” I said to Izac as I shuffled past. He pretended not to hear me, but his aura…blushed…with remembered anger.
The performance hadn’t even begun, and Stallion was already fidgiting in his seat.
Dominic leaned over and whispered in his ear, the words quiet but with power, “Pay attention.”
“To what? The stage or the crowd?” Stallion asked as if he’d been told to jump, and he wanted to know how high.
“The stage.”
My phone buzzed, and I quickly reached into my pocket.
RECOVERING, Came back the text from Brendan. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and quickly replied back.
NEED A LITTLE FIRST AID? A LITTLE OF THE DOG THAT BIT YOU?
NO, NOT THAT KIND. I’M GOOD. He answered quickly enough, but the tone, if tone could be gleaned from six words, seemed a little cool. Distant. Still, he was alive and talking to me, and I would be content with that.
I settled down to watch the show, but found myself drawn to the two kin we could see from our seats. Lambach below, a row from the front near the aisle, all hateful black and grey depression. This play was a self-inflicted personal torture for…what…the shame and guilt he displayed earlier? Behind us, leather jacket was the complete opposite, a joyous cloud of violet, rose and, my favourite, vermillion. Unlike many of the other kin who seemed to be there to be seen, he was there to enjoy the show. I was curious who he was? What did he see when he watched the show?
As the curtain rose and the performance began, at the other end of our line, Luna was sinking into her chair. She had thought the show would be an amusing waste of time, a frippery to placate Dominic. The more she watched and heard from the stage, the more she was aware of the purpose of the performance. Everything, the staging, every line of dialogue, the lighting, even the audience, was one huge celebration of Vlad Dracul. As the show continued, she got a very clear impression that it wasn’t so much a celebration as the hugest boast and an ‘up yours’ to the whole vampire community. The show made Dracula out to be a sympathetic character who loved and was loved in return. Forget that he broke the rules of his community by revealing himself and deserved second death. He was so spectacularly successful, kine all over the world now spoke of him, wrote of him, wanted to be like him, while every other vampire lived in the shadows, unknown and unspoken.
He’s shitting on every other kin! She thought, fuming, He won and this show is him rubbing their noses in it. Rubbing MY nose in it!
Sure, come and see a play, it will be fun. Fun my arse!
Beside her, Izac had noticed her shift from amused attention to cursing under her breath. The Prince’s thoughts on the play rolled around in his mind. He refocused his efforts to see how the Prince viewed the play. Keeping tabs on his enemies, studying their words and actions, to try and glean truths about their real nature. It was a type of mental gymnastics Izac was unfamiliar with, but he started comparing the presentation in front of him to other portrayals. This seemed to show another facet of Dracula, beyond the womanising, blood-sucker he was usually portrayed as. Certainly, it seemed try to justify Dracula’s stance in coming out to the world. There didn’t seem to be anything in the play that should upset Luna so much, and yet, he could feel her tensing up beside her.
“You’re not enjoying this?” He whispered to her, “Is it that he got away with it?”
“No, I’m not,” She rasped back, “And we have to sit here pretending to like it.”
“We don’t have to sit here and watch it,” He suggested with a smirk.
“What? Leave in the middle of the show? We’re not even ten minutes in.”
“So, you’re going to sit and be miserable?”
“Are you?” A dark eyebrow raised, and Luna turned in her seat to face Izac.
“Shhh!” Dominic interjected, “You’re embarrassing yourself.” For a moment or two, the scheming duo were silent. Izac pulled out his phone.
YOU CLEARLY DON’T LIKE THIS AND YOU DIDN’T PAY FOR IT SO….I HAVE TO STAY. I HAVE A LEASH KEEPING ME IN THIS SEAT.
I SAW HIM EARLIER. I WOULD HAVE WARNED YOU BUT I LOST SIGHT OF YOU WHEN RAIN PASSED BY ME. A SLOW NIGHT WAITS FOR US. BETTER NOT TO LEAVE YOU HERE TO SUFFER ALONE.
WHO KNOWS. NIGHTS YOUNG. COMPANY IS BETTER. STILL FEEL EMPTY THOUGH.
Luna squirmed around in her seat until she could reach over and grasp hold of Izac’s forearm. Izac recognised the move as something from before, old Luna, but couldn’t put aside my warnings. He didn’t move. Her hand slid down his arm, taking his hand in hers. Giving into the comfort of touch, he gently squeezed her hand back in return.
I was oblivious to all this at the other end of the row. Recognising Stallion’s boredom I started pointing out theatrical tricks to him. They used a Fisher’s Ghost style effect to portray Dracula floating into a room as a fog, and with perfect timing, revealed the actor with a spotlight as he approached the bed of the soon-to-be-late, Lucy Westenra. Stallion didn’t seem impressed and doggedly stared at the stage as if his eyeballs were pinned to it. I let my mind drift, and as happens at those times, my eyes lifted to the intricately box-worked ceiling of the theatre. And that’s when I saw them. Two pale auras floating in front of the ceiling. I looked around and saw another two above the stage and a fifth above Dress Circle where the Prince sat. They were the same auras I’d seen when we’d returned to the Prince after dealing with the mage.
Security? Probably. To be expected, really. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they be down in the audience enjoying the show?
At the very least, Dominic was enjoying the show. He’d seen the play before and was noticing subtle differences in the performance of Doctor Van Helsing. Serious lines were played for comic relief, if a lightening of the mood was required, it would come from the jocular Doctor. It was part caricature, part right-wing shock jock. The character seemed to revel in the accurate details of vampirism, the uses of garlic and crucifixes as if giving a lecture on the topic. All round it seemed that Dracula was pushing home his point that vampires are real and exist to the kine in the audience.
I was starting to think the same as Renfield made his first appearance in the play, eating spiders and howling for his master. The actor really hammed up Renfield’s filth, both external and internal, and I nearly laughed out loud as I realised his splotchy aura marked him out as a ghoul. I shared my discovery with Stallion, pleased with the irony. He didn’t care. I did spot the pale ovals of Izac, and Luna’s faces turn at the little snippet of irony, though.
I wonder if he’s not the real Renfield. I mused, but kept that idea to myself for later dissection.
Izac let his mind drift back to the audience around us and saw the kin in the leather coat staring daggers in our direction. Izac started, as he hadn’t realised our shenanigans would have reached so far. He then realised the curly-haired vampire wasn’t just looking at him…but into him. A thrill of fear swept through him, and suddenly, he felt guilt and shame for interrupting this vampire’s enjoyment of the show. Izac should have known better.
People paid good money and maybe hundreds of years to see something like this performance and didn’t need to be interrupted by the likes of you. Talking through it as if the words coming out of your mouth were as remotely important as what’s happening on the stage. Have some respect. Just behave.
Now, instead of the Prince, the main thought inside Izac’s head was, How am I going to make it up to that guy?
Luna looked between Izac and the vampire, waving his hands in their direction and knew something was up.
Do something! Break their line of sight! Help him! Luna’s voice cried out, yet the cold fire of Eclipse soon burnt it into silence.
Why should I? It’s between them. Let them burn. Let it all burn.
She turned back to the stage and continued to hate on the wankfest.
Dominic, having seen all this go one, shrugged and returned his thoughts to the stage.
At least he’s not my problem.
Once again, I was oblivious to what was going. I turned back from the stage to see Izac’s aura greyed, his expression remorseful and ashamed. Izac was often a cloud of negative emotions but guilt and shame were not common features. I looked around, saw nothing that should have caused this change in Izac’s mood and quickly sent off a message.
YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF.
SURE, Was his only reply as he fidgeted in his seat, glancing back over his shoulder.
What can I do to make it up to him? What does he want? What do I want? Maybe he wants that too! I want things to be better than they are. I want things to change. I want a place without monsters. Everything worth holding onto, I’ve lost, multiple times. Why is that? What’s the common denominator? Is my action or inaction that causes me to lose…everything? Izac’s thoughts spiralled, driving all other thought from his head, until he was unable to concentrate on anything else. I have to make good with the Handsome Gentleman. Can I? I can!
A brilliant idea swept aside the spiralling thoughts as he stepped out of his seat and into the aisle. He ignored the filthy look from Dominic and the sharp glance from Luna, and hunted over the audience of the Mezzanine for the eye of the Handsome Gentleman. He then headed to the back of the auditorium and through the golden doors to wait.
He didn’t wait long.
9.50 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club The State Theatre
The Handsome Gentleman was tall, an inch taller than Izac himself, but whereas Izac was rake-thin and gangly, the Handsome Stranger was proportional, even a little padded out. Out of heavy-lids, pale blue eyes rested lightly on Izac’s.
“Well?”
“I’d like to extend my heartfelt apologies for my behaviour.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Even in these dim and dirty days, I’m glad to hear there still exists an ounce of humanity and gentlemanly behaviour. The spark of the divine still shines,” The Handsome Gentleman said in a voice high, cultured and used to being heard, “And I appreciate you giving me that gift. That a pauper such as you could offer me such civility. Thank you.”
Inside, somewhere deep, Izac seethed. And yet, he couldn’t turn away, couldn’t leave this spot, in front of the Handsome Gentleman.
“Now that you have my attention, I’d like to know the name of this fine, refined urchin. What are you called?”
“My name is Izac.”
“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Izac. And just so you know, people who know call me Sebastian Melmoth. Those looking for a good time, call me Sabbi.” The small, full mouth pouted a little, teasingly.
“And where can I find you, Sabastian, if I were looking for such things?” Izac asked.
“Well, this is just a prelude to the main event, is it not? Now, don’t be shy or cautious. I’m sure you know what I’m referring to?”
For a moment, Izac had no idea what event could be coming up. But there was really only event coming up that I couldn’t help but mention.
“This is a prelude?” He asked, and the great shaggy head nodded sagely.
“Some of us are arriving early for business or just to enjoy the personal joke that is this play,” He waved a hand to the stage hidden behind the golden doors.
“Yes, the comedy is here,” Izac agreed sarcastically.
“The man was so full of himself he committed it to paper, and now he fills theatres, projection halls, games and the zeitgeist of the Western world, purely of himself. Without even being here, his presence and influence expands.”
“He sounds like a smart man.”
“Oh, flattery will get you somewhere. Make sure he hears you say that,” A long delicate pointer finger like that of a pianist reached out and touched Izac on the chest.
Words were one thing, but physical contact and Sebastian’s swarmy nature broke the charm for Izac. He started to step away.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your entertainment.”
“You could…try keeping me here longer…are you offering anything?”
“What could I offer you?”
“Well, I don’t get hard labour for it now,” And all one hundred and ninety-one centimetres of Sebastian stepped that little closer. In boots, he loomed over Izac, “Or do you not swing that way?”
Izac tried not to show on his face what he thought, “I’m afraid I’m not that way inclined. Enjoy the rest of your show.”
“Well, thank you. I’ll be keeping an eye out for you after the show, Izac. You seem an interesting sort.”
“Ask the Prince,” Izac replied, his voice dead flat and desperate to end this conversation.
“Can I have your hand, please?”
“Why?”
“Indulge me, one gentleman to another?” Sebastian held out his beautifully manicured hand, facing upwards.
Reluctantly, Izac placed his hand on top of Sebastians. With his left hand on top, Sebastian clasped Izac’s and a small spark, like an electric shock, past between them. He released Izac’s hand as if nothing had happened.
“As I said, it was so nice of you to apologise the way you did and so quickly. Much quicker than most. You’re a good boy. Now, go sit down with your coterie.”
Izac, full of undirected anger, looked at the doors back into the auditorium, then down the foyer to the glass doors that emptied onto the street. In a tiny act of defiance, he didn’t return to his seat but marched down the empty foyer and out into the cool of the night.
Market Street is a busy link between Pitt Street and the shopping district and George Street and the entertainment sector. It’s never really quiet, but at that moment, it felt like the first chance Izac had had to breathe since locking eyes with Sebastian. The bustle of the street was a balm, and he just stood having nowhere to go as long as it wasn’t back into the theatre.
Slowly, without any obvious announcement, Izac was suddenly aware that someone was behind him. He turned around to see a dark-skinned man in a simple suit staring back at him.
“What do you want?” Izac said, at least the words left his mind, and his lips made the shapes, but there was no sound. In fact, there was no sound anywhere. The general noisy background of a city street had gone, leaving absolute silence and this man’s voice.
“It’s time,” The man said and gestured down the street. Izac tried resisting. It resulted in freezing to the spot with indecision before finally giving in and following. As they past, people looked up at Izac and the man confused, as if they, too, sensed the lack of sound.
By the side of the road where no parking signs usually kept the road clear, a dark blue Mustang waited. The man gestured to the passenger side of the car and waited for Izac to enter.
“Can you tell me where we’re going?” Izac tried again, and as before, no sound, not even in his head. Izac stopped at the car as the man opened the door for him.
Do I have to? He said in his mind, but the man did not respond, Could I at least have a name. Nothing.
He got into the passenger seat.
The door closed, and the dark-skinned man climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. Izac could feel the motor kick over, the small vibration of the engine idling through the cabin of the car, but no sound at all. The car turned out into traffic and, within seconds was lost in the rest of the traffic on George Street.
9.50 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club The State Theatre
Luna waited ten minutes by her phone before making a move to see what had happened to Izac. For the twelfth time she looked back to empty H30 and saw Leather Jacket had returned, but of Izac there was nothing.
Something’s wrong, She said to herself rising from her seat to gain a hiss from Dominic, I’m going to find him.
She passed through the golden doors into the foyer. It was empty. She jogged down the mosaic-tiled foyer to the glass doors and stepped out into the night. Just the usual push and shove of city crowds. As she looked down the street, a dark blue car turned left on to George Street and disappeared from view, but if she saw it, she didn’t think anything of it.
People don’t just disappear into thin air, She comforted herself, and yet Izac seemed to have done exactly that.
Three blocks away sound returned to Izac’s world. Everyday sounds were a blessed relief to the mind-numbing silence of the past several minutes, and he relaxed enough to speak to his captor.
“Can I at least have a name?”
“You could, “ The man said conversationally, not taking his eyes off the road, “If it would help.”
“I don’t get told shit, so anything you can throw my way…”
“Shara-had,” The man interrupted and Izac rolled the name around in his brain a moment or two. It was unfamiliar.
“What group do you represent?”
“Hmm, an odd question,” Shara-had mused casually, as if they were old friends discussing philosophy, “You’re too young to know the complexities of that question.”
“What Clan…Bloodline…shit like that,” Izac rattled off, frustrated at Shara-had’s belittlement and his own impotence.
“Ah, now it makes more sense. I am Banu Haqim. I am…judge, but most of the time covert work. Assassination, spycraft, information gathering.”
“Interesting Shara-had, but if you didn’t know, I’m already accounted for. Someone already has me by the balls.”
“More than one, I suspect,” Shara-had suggested, giving Izac pause. What did this guy know?
“So, are you offering to get them back for me?”
“No, I’m just delivering you.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see,” Shara-had glanced over at Izac and added just as casually, “Oh, and one last thing. As you can see, I am in touch with the modern world enough to drive a car. Hand over your mobile, or I will be forced to stake you.”
A sad, scoffing bark left Izac, “Staking won’t work on me.”
“Intriguing. Are you sure?”
“That’s what I’m told,” He could feel the hollowness, and his mind drifted to the only one who helped fill it,” Can I at least say goodbye?”
Shara-had shook his head, “Can’t. It’s for your safety. Their’s really.” Leaving his right hand on the wheel, he held out his left for the phone.
Izac pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over.
From outside the Charger, the driver’s window rolled down, and a hand threw a phone against the road, smashing the screen. Seconds later, it was just a litter of plastic, metal and glass spread across George Street.
“Would you like some music?” Shara-had asked, gesturing with his now free hand, “I’ll let you pick the station.”
“Just drive,” Izac replied despondently before trying his luck one last time, “Can we make a stop? I promise not to go far.”
“Sure. Where?”
“My apartment.”
“Where you’ve been sleeping? Sure. As long as you play straight, I’ll play straight with you.”
Under the yellow glow of the State Theatre’s false chandelier, Eclipse could feel her panic rise. She wanted to burn, to rage, to destroy the puny cattle milling around her. If she had to she’d burn down the whole City searching, and laugh in the ashes.
No, not here, not now! She said, making herself breathe and focus on the facts before her.
Someone had disappeared, Izac. And as there’s no evidence of a fight, he went willingly.
She rang his phone.
“I regret to inform you that the number you have dialled is disconnected or….” Said the automatic message.
Definitely taken. But who would want him? There is a lot of interest in Izac…too many interested. Days of the Week? Maybe, but unlikely…
You could have been closer to him. Instead, you just let him get away, Luna’s voice said, If you really cared, you should have gone with him.
Shut up! Shut up! Shutup! Shutup! Eclipse growled and forced herself to think through her options.
Who can I turn to? Who has the power and influence to do something?
An image of the Prince chatting to Izac before the performance sprang to mind. And he owed her a favour.
But he’ll kill me if I disturb the performance. Could I use obfuscate to get close to him? The thought of a Masquerade breach in public, in front of the Prince, quickly squashed that idea.
I may not be able to get to him now, but I know where he hangs out. Thought and action became one as she started running up Market Street towards Macquarie Street and onwards to the Opera House.
9.50 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club The State Theatre
Once Izac left, I started really enjoying the play. The more I watched, the more I appreciated Dracula’s political and theatrical savvy to straddle both worlds so effectively. Not saying I’d want to meet the man, but it was a path. I looked down our line of chairs and noticed that Luna was now missing. I didn’t like that. Besides her being my sister, she wasn’t exactly stable, and I feared what she might do if she were running around alone. I sent a quick allaying fears text to Izac. If she was with him, all was well.
YOU’RE MISSING OUT. WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?
The message did not go through. Izac not answering was not unusual, but I’d only just texted him minutes ago, and it went through fine. My concerns deepened enough to try texting Luna.
IZAC’S NOT RESPONDING TO TEXTS. ARE YOU TWO OKAY?
The text connected, but there was no response.
I didn’t like that at all.
Dominic was not unaware of Luna and Izac’s absence. Like a parent with a screaming child, he found himself embarrassed by his childers’ behaviour.
Was it really so hard to have a nice night out at the theatre? Pulling out his phone, he texted Bruce.
I HAVE TWO WAYWARD CHILDREN. FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM FOR ME.
He described the time and location, what they were wearing and where they were likely to have been seen by text, then left it in the capable hands of Bruce.
OKAY BOSS, Came the reply
Yes, Bruce would know what to do.
I was sitting in my seat, desperately hoping for a message, anything to say they were okay. After ten minutes, I couldn’t sit on my hands any longer. I knew they’d hate that I got him involved, but I also knew Dominic took his role as Sire seriously. I sent a text to Dominic.
IZAC’S PHONE IS DISCONNECTED. LUNA IS NOT ANSWERING MY TEXTS. I THINK THEY’RE IN TROUBLE.
Separated by Stallion, I saw Dominic glance at his phone, turn and nod in my direction. He raised a hand, a sign to wait. He was in charge, and things were in motion. That was easy for him to say. I needed to move, to get up and ask questions. I no longer had a mind to sit and watch the play, I had to do something. And I knew exactly what I could do while staying exactly where I was.
I’VE GOT AN IDEA.
Putting away my phone, I closed my eyes and focused on that feeling of floating away from my body. From the outside, I looked like I’d fallen asleep. Inside, my consciousness zoomed across Sydney in pursuit of Izac. With his phone out of commission, he was my first concern.
The first thing I saw was a small, shrivelled purple heart in a jar sitting on a shelf. Confused, I changed my view and saw hundreds of similar jars on dozens of shelves all around me. Some held identifiable body parts, others were indescribable horrors of medicine, but all were neatly labelled and shelved with easy retrieval. At the centre of it all, an ornate Victorian table marked with magical symbols. Suddenly, I realised I was looking at Izac’s missing heart! After all our musings on the subject, it was right in front of me, an arms reach away…if I had arms at that moment. It wasn’t with the Prince, but some Wet Specimen storage that it would be easy for him to access. But where?
I pulled back my view again, and like zooming out in Google Maps. It seemed like some sort of private storage room, three basements underground. When I finally found myself outside, I was staring at a grey stone, rectangular building right on the waterfront at Circular Quay. I was in front of the Museum of Contemporary Art, directly across Circular Quay from the Opera House. For a moment, I stared in awe of what I’d accidentally discovered. Then I realised I wasn’t going to find Izac without an effort. This was the closest part of him, and it was more than two kilometres away. My circle for the rest of him was much larger and probably growing larger by the minute. With my own heart heavier, I returned to my body and tried again, this time for Luna.
I was flying down a footpath to Circular Quay. Beside me Luna was running, a determined expression on her face. Down the bottom of the hill where Macquarie ended at a roundabout, the Opera House glowed against the evening sky. She wasn’t far. I could catch her if I were careful. I quickly returned to my body.
Meanwhile, Dominic and Stallion had realised something was up. Maybe I was just too quiet, too still and they both turned to see I was no longer watching the show. Instead, my inert body was slumped forward, my eyes closed as if asleep.
“Thank goodness, I thought he’d never shut up,” Stallion whispered to Dominic before returning dutifully to watching the play. Dominic lowered his face into his open palms. Now, three of his childer were embarrassing him.
At that moment, I returned to my seat in the theatre, feeling Dominic’s disgruntled stare on me.
“They’re in trouble, “ I whispered across Stallion’s lap, and I stood to leave.
“Sit. Down.” The two words, barely audible, hit me like a slap, “You are embarrassing me.”
Embarrassed? What? How?
I crouched down across Stallion so as not to block the view of people behind and got as close to Dominic as I dared.
“They’re in trouble. Come with me. I need your help, please,” I pleaded, sure he could make me sit if he really wanted to, but hoped that his sense of propriety wouldn’t let him.
He looked around the auditorium, keenly aware of eyes watching…judging. He weighed it with the trouble I could be and the damaged we’d already done. His frown of disapproval changed to a look of disgust. Tapping Stallion on the shoulder, he carefully rose from his seat. He flicked his balled fist and thumb over his shoulder, communicating both the direction we were taking and his disappointment. I quietly followed without comment.
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club Leichhardt
The blue Mustang stopped outside the apartments, and Izac moved to leave the car.
“I’ll be five minutes.”
“First,” Shara-had said and leaned over, touching Izac on the cheek.
“What was that for?”
“Five minutes,” Shara-had repeated and gestured for Izac to be on his way.
Izac shrugged and quickly entered the apartment block. He headed straight for the apartment. Inside, he could feel the presence of the totem in that place, but there was no way he could take it. He looked around and realised there was nothing in the apartment we wanted. Putting his hand into his jacket, he pulled out his little notebook and a scrap of paper. Going over to the coffee table, he placed the paper inside his notebook and put it on the coffee table. That done, there was nothing else to do. He left and locked the door behind him.
Outside once more, Izac looked through the windscreen at Shara-had waiting in the Mustang, held up a finger, asking for a second’s more patience before entering the Crow Bar. He didn’t look for familiar faces or stop to leave a message, just placed the apartment keys on Dominic’s desk. That done, he returned to the Mustang, where Shara-had started the engine.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to do that to you,” Shara-had said and turned the car into traffic.
“Do what?” Izac was not in the mood for cryptic conversations.
“Don’t worry.”
“No, I’m interested, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I did a piece of insurance. If you weren’t back in five minutes…your blood would have boiled and strangled you to death,” Shara-had admitted offhandedly.
Seriously! “Terrific!” And as before, he had lost everything and there was nothing he could do, “So, where are we going?”
“Let’s keep going.”
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club The State Theatre
“What should have been a very simple and entertaining evening with absolutely no interruptions has turned into a ridiculous farce because of my childers’ inability to do something as simple as sitting down for two hours,” Dominic was fuming loud enough for Stallion and me to hear as we marched down the foyer and out into the street, “You do know that children the age of five learn that when they go to school.”
Stallion, unaware and uncaring of events, sauntered out the glass doors after Dominic, “What about your friend. I don’t have his digits. Are you able to get in touch with him?”
“Which friend?” Dominic asked, distracted as he hailed a taxi.
“The one who said he wanted me to get a feed for him.”
“He’ll contact you, you can have no doubt. Get in…”
“Izac’s in trouble. His phone is disconnected, but we can catch Luna…” I said, thankful we were now on the move.
“In…” Was all he said, and I climbed in, knowing we’d travel faster by car than on foot, “Leichhardt, the Crow Bar, please.” He told the driver.
“No,” I cried, looking back down Market street as we headed in the opposite direction, “Luna…”
“Why?” Dominic asked, and I quickly tapped out a text.
LUNA IS AT CIRCULAR QUAY.
Dominic took one look at the message, “We’re going to the bar, thank you. I’m the one paying.”
“I can catch her up. Just let me out on the corner.”
“You’re staying right here,” His command was definite, and though he didn’t try dominating me, I knew it couldn’t be far away.
“Sir, please,” I pleaded again, but Dominic just turned in his seat focused on his phone.
PICK UP LUNA AT CIRCULAR QUAY, He sent to Giuseppe
To Luna, DO YOU KNOW WHERE IZAC IS?
As we headed onto Broadway and back towards Leichhardt and away from Luna and Izac, Stallion leaned in and whispered in my ear.
“Nevermind Rain, if it’s any consolation, I was bored off my tits!”
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club Running
In Eclipse’s bag, her phone buzzed. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time she’d thought about it.
It’s not him. It can’t be him, so why do I care?
Now her destination was in sight, and the moment of panic had passed, she slowed down to a walk and pulled out her phone. There were two message.
IZAC’S NOT RESPONDING TO TEXTS. ARE YOU TWO OKAY? From me.
DO YOU KNOW WHERE IZAC IS? From Dominic.
She called my number. I jumped as it started buzzing and fumbled it to my ear.
‘My God, Luna!”
“Do you know where he is?” She asked with no preamble.
I thought for a moment, my eyes flicking to the back of Dominic’s head in the front seat.
“No, I don’t know where he is, but I know where it is, “ She seemed to get my point.
“You found it? Where is it?”
“Not far from where you are, actually. Why did you go down there?”
She paused for a long time before replying, “Someone owes me a favour and might know where he is.”
So, she’d gone down there to see if the Prince could intervene. But why had she gone all that way?
“He was at the theatre.”
“He is at the theatre, and I didn’t want to be seen as uncouth and interrupt his experience,” I could hear her eyes roll, and I almost smiled.
“Museum of Contemporary Art, subbasement three, and I don’t know if you’re going to be able to find it as there’s a lot of…similar pieces.”
“No. Knowing is enough.” And I heard a resignation and peace with that statement.
“Our Father is very disappointed in us all. All except Stallion, of course,” I tried to lighten the mood.
“Oh yes, because Stallion is a perfect child. Get him another dog and call him a good boy.” She bit back. We had travelled a long way from our first night.
“Good luck with your…mission,” I finally said. She was safe…ish. Besides throwing myself from the car, there was nothing else I could do.
“As you say, I’ve got to try, right?” And she hung up the phone.
A few moments later Dominic received a text from Luna.
HE’S GONE AWOL.
Before returning his phone to his jacket, he punched out one last message,
GIUSEPPE IS COMING TO PICK YOU UP. BRUCE AND THE OTHERS ARE LOOKING INTO WHAT HAPPENED TO IZAC.
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club Enroute
“Izac. I know this is all very confusing. But I’m not here to kill you. I could have. I’m very good at it. If that were the assignment, you would have died on that street the moment I saw you. They just need to ask some questions. And regardless of how you answer, you’ll be able to leave…existing.” If this was a speech meant to inspire confidence, it was falling short for Izac.
“What are the questions?” Izac asked. Now that everything he could do was done, he felt calm. He always knew a day like this was coming. He’d just hoped for more time.
“I’m not asking them. That’s where we’re going to. We’ll get it all sorted out, and that will be it. Okay?”
“Yes, fine. Drive.” Still, he didn’t feel like engaging with Shara-had and his ‘Good Cop’ routine, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“How long have you been alive?”
“I was alive for twenty-three years.”
“And after that?”
“A long time. My people didn’t keep a good account of calendars but, by your reckoning, I guess three or four hundred years.”
“Okay.”
“Is that important?
“No, “ Izac shook his head absentmindedly as she stared out the windscreen, “I just wanted to know something about who I’m dealing with.”
“I told you. I’m merely an intermediary. I’m just taking you to a place.”
“I guess I just wanted to know my captor.”
“And now you know. I have a job. I get told what to do, and I do it.”
“What’s your taste in music?”
Shara-had shrugged, “How do you feel about Arabic music?”
“Emersing in new cultures. Sure.”
Shara-had turned on the radio and tuned it to a channel where the prayers were being sung to the faithful.
10.00 pm Friday 9 hours until sunrise. 7 days until the Succubus Club Enroute
*****************************************************************************************
Izac’s note:
I don’t know where I’m going.
I don’t know who I am
I can’t be everyone’s tool anymore
I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger
That I wasn’t enough
I failed you Luna
I’m sorry
Maybe I’ll see you again, its only eternity
I love you
*****************************************************************************************
Eclipses thoughts:
Part of Me
FIND HIM
Traffic moves in droves. These mechanical waves consume. Even with celerity, I would have been too late.
IZAC!
The water moves every way. The heart of this ocean is relentless. No GPS, no sign, and no signal.
Please…
I’m lost. Again.
Burn it.
Izac…
BURN IT DOWN
You’ve seen the end of this world and you’re going to just stand here? What did Rain say? Something about trying.
There is no pain this time. No two hour walk to a place that misfits could not even call home.
The city was supposed to resemble something to you. A nobody who could make something of themselves.
What the fuck happened to you?
Where is your passion?
I bled her out.
Where is your fire?
I burned it until it burned black.
I’m going nowhere. These streets I am running along are using old fuel.
Burning, burning…
This crossroad. I know more than what the Prince wants me to. I have a favour to cash in but what am I doing here? Am I not running once more?
If I turn back, would you be there?
Is it all in my head?
I have finally lost him.
What if he doesn’t want to be found?
I am your Raven, bloodhound. If you will not hunt me down I will find your shadow.
Even after all of this, even if I only find a glimpse of you…
Maybe that will be enough.
Maybe I can finally cut out the part of you that sits in my chest.
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Blanco Falzo: A man who had made into a likeness of Stallion’s dog for a time. Now deceased.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Days of the Week: Pseudonyms for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of.
She is Sunday, and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson, though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Policed premiere detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Wollongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.\][poFrancis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Lambach Ruthven: Kin met at the theatre. Sire of Dracula. Drug addict.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sebastian Melmoth: Kin met at the theatre. Powerful Toreador.
Shara-had: Banu Haqim (Assamite).
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Clan or Bloodline: From one the 13 antediluvians.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves Izac is familiar with this
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Short for Kindred. Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
*Sarrasine, a novella by Balzac. Sarrasine is a sculpture who is infatuated with an Opera Singer, Zambinella. She thinks herself cursed and deflects his advances. At a performance, Zambinella is revealed to Sarrasine to be a castrato. In a rage, Sarrasine attacks the singer, only to be cut down and killed by their bodyguard.
A Strange Life 