While her fellow coterie members had suffered in their own ways, Grace Penderghast found herself suffering in a very different way the next night... the incessant chatter of a Toreador party. In truth, it was one particular thing about her Clan that she didn't care much for, much preferring the solidarity of her art. However, such evils were indeed necessary and particularly so when dealing with an influence such as Renée. Renée Schnider was the belle of the ball wherever she went, a Toreador among Toreador as many said.
Needless to say, Grace couldn't stand the woman. More than that, however, she was a constant thorn in the side of Isaac. The only other childe sired by Isaac's sire, their rivalry had been a thing through the decades of nights from their first meeting. She knew well that Isaac had taken it as more than a little bit of personal pride that he'd managed to outmaneuver his "sister" for the position of Primogen as well as being the first to earn his siring rights and sire a childe of his own.
Was she a pawn for Isaac's little game? Grace was certain that she was, although Renée was one of the many people within the Clan who she saw as someone who deserved to be taken down a peg. Not the least of which due to her polluting the world of music, something Grace had been carving out her own little niche in. Several pegs, that being the case. Hence, this little appearance at her party with the polite smiles hiding the barbed fangs. The usual bit of Kindred barbarism with a thin veneer of society and respectability atop it.
One of the few bits of joy she got from being there was in hearing "O soave faniculla" being performed by two members of the Seattle Opera, which got a genuine beaming smile and a round of applause from her. Oh, how the music could move her soul! It almost made up for the fact that soon enough, the woman of the hour herself had made her way to their table.
"Well, if it isn't Isaac Carroway and Grace Penderghast! I was wondering when you'd arrive!" Miss Renée Dupont had a smile upon her plush lips that she seemed only too gleeful to barely hide her contempt for the people she was speaking to behind them.
"We've been here for some time, Renée." Isaac said, rising to greet her as she approached. A millisecond later, Grace followed suite. "You seem to be quite the popular one."
"I do, don't I?" Renée asked. "After tonight, I do believe my little show will be the talk of the town for nights to come. So glad you could make it, Isaac my dear. And you as well, little Grace."
"Wouldn't have missed it for the world, darling." Grace matched the barely hidden contempt with her own. "Of course, it is rather generous of you to bring the second stringers from the Opera in for performances. So good of you to highlight lesser artists..."
"Naturally, yes." A glare flickered in Renée's eyes just for an instant before her poise took control again, but it was just long enough for Grace to know that the blade had met its mark. "In any case, I do hope you will enjoy the evening. We have refreshments and the show itself will be promptly at eleven. You will be attending, right? Both of you?"
"As I said, we wouldn't miss it for the world." Grace said. Renée gave a polite laugh and then stalked away, the skirt of her dress swishing around behind her as she did so. Grace's entire demeanor changed once their host had walked off and was out of earshot. "Vile bitch."
"Your barbs are landing surprisingly well." Isaac said.
"I have gotten better, I think." Grace said, remembering all too well how Renée had been able to dance around her years before.
"Not just that," Isaac said, "I know her well enough. Something is troubling her."
"You think so? What?" Grace asked.
"I don't know," Isaac said, "but I think we are on the right track. We need to keep prodding..."
The previous night, Ben and Angelica had returned to his apartment. At the moment, he had wanted her to remain safe and that was probably the best place he could do so. Or so he reasoned, anyway. Angel, still overwhelmed and somewhat in shock from everything had accepted. Ben had spent the night on his couch while Angelica had taken the bed. When the sun had set, both had risen... and Angelica fed from a blood bag as Ben seemed intent on meticulously polishing things in the trophy room she had seen earlier.
"So these are... yours?"
"Sort of." Ben replied, currently running a rag over a suit of armor.
"What is that?"
"This? This is from Ireland. Somewhere around the ninth century or something, I think."
"I thought you said you were only around fifty?" Angel asked him.
"I am. This... well, this whole place was my... mawla's."
"Your what?"
"Sorry, my mentor. It's an Arabic word that means... well, it can mean a couple of things, but it means mentor. In my case, anyway." Ben said. "The Gangrel who brought me into the society here when I got to Seattle."
"What made you leave Vancouver, anyway?" Angel asked.
"I... saw what I was becoming." Ben sighed. "What I had become... and I told myself I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't be that person."
"What happened?" Angel pressed him.
"Angelica, I don't-"
"Tough." Ben blinked in surprise and looked at her. "I'm here and you keep dodging questions. I can't stand that. You've been doing it since we started seeing one another and-"
"I mean, if I had told you everything, you and I would be ashes right now." Ben pointed out.
"I am aware of that." Angel said. "So I'm not mad at you for that. I am annoyed at you for not being honest with me."
"I've never lied to you." Ben said. "Not besides, well..." He made a gesture of vampire fangs.
"You know what I mean, Ben." Angel said. "There's more you aren't telling me, and it feels more and more like you're trying to avoid something."
"That's... because I am." Ben said, hesitantly. He looked away from her, examining the armor intensely as though he were looking for cracks or imperfections in the metal. Angel waited with no breath (baited or otherwise) as she waited for him to speak again. "You asked me last night why you were so special. Why I wanted to save you."
"Right." Angel nodded.
"It's because... I already had."
1996
He burst free from the boarded up apartment, taking to the fire escape and bolting down as the shadows stretched out after him. Close to his chest was the small, squirming bundle of a child against him. Ben knew well that he'd never be able to find her parents again, but he could get her far away from this place.
Give in... The Beast whispered to him. Esme is right, she would taste so... sweet...
It had jarred something in him, seeing the little one lying there, cooing softly as he approached. It had been... wrong. Something about it all, all in that instant, it had struck him. Ben had fled, and had taken the infant with him for her own safety. He could not go back, not now. Not ever.
His mind gave way to his animal instincts. Flee. Nothing else mattered now but fleeing. After that, getting the child to safety. After that... after that... he did not know.
2018
Angel, standing across from him, would have paled if she had been able to. Significantly. Likely would have vomited as well, though that was something beyond her now apart from mimicry.
"W-What?"
"I didn't know that you were that child." Ben said. "I swear, I didn't."
"Oh, good! Because that only makes this slightly less creepy!" Angel looked disgusted. "W-When... when did yo-?"
"When Stephen Corwin tried to muscle in on Haven of Hope through that law firm." Ben said, quietly. "Before then... I had suspected, but it's not like I went and exhaustively researched you before approaching you."
"Did... did you kill Stephen Corwin?" Angel asked, still looking horrified.
"What?" Ben asked.
"Did you kill him?" Angel asked. "Did you kill Stephen Corwin? Is that why they rescinded their offers to buy the place?"
"Well, first... he was already dead, he's a vampire." Ben said. "Also, secondly, no."
"Well, that's some-wait, what?" Angel blinked.
"Super rich guy living in Seattle?" Ben asked. "Never seen in public, only shows up for night appearances at galas and the like? Seriously, sometimes I wonder if we even need the Masquerade..."
"Then where is he?" Angel asked. When no response came, she pressed. "Where is he?"
"He's encased in concrete at a building site." Ben told her. Seeing Angel's look of dismay and disgust not fading, he added, "Angel, he was a really bad man. He sent people to try and harm you."
"So you give him a Sicilian necktie?!" Angel asked, exasperated. Ben finally set down the rag he'd long since stopped using to polish the armor and had just been absentmindedly rubbing it against it.
"Angel, what do you want me to say?" Ben asked. "This is how the world of the Kindred, our world, works. People will use and abuse you and it's all you can do to defend yourself."
"That sounds like Hell." Angel said, then laughed bitterly. "Oh, god, this is what happened. I died and I'm in Hell now. Perfect!"
"If you are, then so are all of the rest of us." Ben said, somewhat sympathetic. "Angel, I did those things to protect you."
"Why?" Angel asked. "I would have never asked you to do... that to someone."
"I know that." Ben said. "But he would have done worse to you. Someone had to stop him."
"Why would he even care about a homeless shelter if he was that kind of rich?" Angel asked.
"It doesn't matter."
"Don't you dare-!" A shattering of glass cut her off as a cylindrical object crashed through the window and landed at their feet.
"Angel, move!" Ben cried out, moving to push her out of the way. There was a loud bang that deafened his ears and a flash of light overtook his vision. His vision recovered, albeit slowly. His hearing was still compromised, him silently watching as several men in SWAT gear, armed to the teeth, had kicked down his door and entered the apartment. Several guns were trained on him as well as on Angelica. One of them was pointing toward Angelica, one of the men pulling a syringe from a pouch on his belt and approaching her.
"No!" Ben's shout was unheard as he grabbed a pulled a rifle from one of the men, slamming it against their helmeted head. Taking the weapon in hand, he immediately start peppering shots at the two men nearest him, and they responded in kind. As Ben tanked hits, Angelica was slammed against the wall by the man with the syringe, who proceeded to jam it into her neck.
Angelica felt something rise up in her as that syringe started to pull blood from her unbreathing body. It was almost like a little voice whispering in her ear 'He's going to kill us...' She liked to consider herself level-headed, but this entire situation was put on edge before she was suddenly slammed against a wall. Her hand shot up, grabbing the man's hand at the wrist and with a sudden burst of preternatural strength wrenched it away. The other hand slammed into his chest and pushed him away.
'They're going to kill you. Stop them.' Angel stared down the muzzle of several rifles pointed out at.
'Kill them first!' They opened fire.
"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" They'd been crammed into a car and were being driven off. The previous night had ended with the Malkavians aplenty running off from the meet and their little troupe scrambling as well. Crashing at Sybil's place had been... odd, to say the least, at least for Hope. Not the least of which being with a bunch of others. Ox had at least been similarly out of sorts, but he'd gone with the Malkavians and said he would be in touch... and as a consequence, he wasn't in the car.
But Sybil had stuffed her, Hugo, her brother, and Anthony all together in the vehicle in question and was now speeding down the road as fast as the wheels could carry them.
"Where exactly are we going?" Anthony asked.
"Ben's blood sugar daddy." Sybil said.
"What?"
"I believe she means his mentor." Hugo said.
"Correct." Sybil said. "Since I don't know where Ben's apartment is, but he does and we need to find him."
"Why?" Anthony asked.
"Because she worked out what the prophecy meant." Hugo said. When all eyes in the car but the driver turned on him, the Nosferatu shrugged. "I'm guessing?"
"You guess correctly, yes." Sybil said, focused on the road. "We need to find Ben before destiny decides to step in... and he knows how to find him..."
No comments:
Post a Comment