"I don't even know how she could have managed it..."
"Do you think it's the genuine article?"
"Genuine? Possibly, but unlikely if-"
"Do you think it's the genuine article?"
"Genuine? Possibly, but unlikely if-"
"Can you explain what this thing is?" Grace Penderghast was covered in blood, the backseat of her car was completely and utterly ruined, and she had a staked vampire still sitting there. And everyone was apparently losing their mind over a book in a briefcase that had been owned by a now headless, dead man. Overall, this night had been sunk into quite the irritating disappointment for the undead woman.
"MALLEUS MALEFICARUM, Maleficas, & earum hæresim, ut phramea potentissima conterens." The Gangrel still crouched over it, staring in shock, said almost immediately as though he were reading something.
"Yes, that's wonderful Gibberish, but what does it mean?" Grace huffed, recognizing neither the words, nor the language.
"The Hammer of Witches which destroyeth Witches and their heresy as with a two-edged sword." Anthony, the Tremere, was pressing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose after cleaning them. "It was used in the Middle Ages as a guide for rooting out and destroying practitioners of witchcraft."
"And it looks like your Primogen was up for a little bit more than some light reading." Ben said.
"Why would she want it anyway?" Grace asked, arms crossed over her chest. "And why would it cause Mr. Smith's head to explode all over my backseat?"
"I told you we should have taken off his hat!" Sybil protested.
"Oh, will you please shut up?!" Grace snapped.
"This isn't getting us anywhere." Ben said, snapping the briefcase shut again. "If we want to find out what's going on, I think we better ask the only person we can at the moment." He pointed to Anthony, who reacted with immediate surprise. "Do whatever blood magic thing you have to do to keep it from doing what it's doing."
"I have no idea how it's doing what it's doing! Or bloody well how to stop it even if I knew what it was doing!" Anthony protested.
"Figure it out, or one of us might be popping next." Ben said, moving over to the car again.
"Well, I never!" Anthony exclaimed, but Ben clearly wasn't listening as he moved on, unimpeded.
"Well, I never!" Anthony exclaimed, but Ben clearly wasn't listening as he moved on, unimpeded.
"Whoa whoa! What are you doing?" Grace went after him.
"I told you. Going to question the only one who knows something." Ben approached the body that was still staked, paralyzed in the car. Getting up face to face with it, the Gangrel stared the Kindred down. "Here's how this is going to play out. I'm going to pull this stake out. You try to fight, you die. You try to run, you die. You do anything other than help me out with a smile on your face, you die. I'm glad we understand each other." With that, he seized the wooden chunk and yanked it from the body. The Kindred screamed in protest from the pain.
"Well, that was...unpleasant."
"Talk." Ben replied, unsympathetically, holding the bloodied implement close to reinforce his point from earlier. A simple gesture, and the man would be right back into paralysis.
"Why exactly should I tell you anything? The operation was going smoothly until you butted in." The man snorted.
"Operation set up by whom? Who sent you?" Ben asked.
"That would be telling, wouldn'-AHHHHH!!!" Ben punched the man across the face, Grace noting there was quite a bit of power behind that strike. The Wolf had a reputation for a reason.
"Give me a name." Ben said, as calmly as if they were discussing the weather.
"So you can send me back to them in a matchbox? Hmm?"
"Not if you keep yapping."
The Kindred spat out vitae from his mouth, his body healing from the strike. "Do you even know what's in that box?"
"Do you?" Ben asked.
"Didn't ask." The man said. "Boss said to keep the Kine alive until we got him back to base, said he'd carry the brunt of it. You four fucked that one up royal."
"So...who wants a briefcase that kind of badly?" Ben asked. "There were-"
"Compared to the numbers we have, that was a pitiful show." The man laughed. "Boss has plenty, and he'll be pissed when he finds out what happened. He'll have your head on a platter."
"Never heard that before." Ben replied without a visible reaction to the threat. "Does this guy have a name or does he go by just 'Brando'?"
"...by what?" The man stared in confusion. Grace was, likewise, not familiar with whatever Ben was referencing.
"Name. Now." Ben snapped, his hand once more morphing into a gnarled claw, the tips of his fingers starting to press into the Kindred's neck. "Or your throat and I are going to get really personal."
"Anton!" The man yelled out. "His name is Anton!"
"Good." Ben said, turning to look at Grace. "Sound familiar to you?"
"Why the hell would that name sound familiar to me?" A ginger brow quirked at him.
"Right, I thought not." Ben said, taking the stake and aiming once more for the man's heart. "G'night!"
"Wait, you were going to-" The man was cut off again as the stake paralyzed him - the splinters of wood becoming one with his heart once more.
"I lied." Ben said, pulling away (his hand returning to its normal state) and leaving the car to return to Sybil and Anthony, who still stood by the briefcase and the body of Mr. Smith, sans head. Anthony was hanging up his cell phone.
"I got a hold of a contact. She should be along in about twenty minutes." Anthony said. "Until then, it would probably be best to pull somewhere out of sight." Grace took in the sight of the gas station and had to agree. The place was still getting power, even if abandoned, and while the roads were less populous than some other parts of Seattle's suburbs, she had to agree that the risk was not one they should be willing to take.
Grace set Mortimer and Martin to the task of moving the corpse, once the briefcase had been removed from the dead man's wrist. The car was pulled out behind it and shut off, and the group waited there with the briefcase. Everyone was keeping a fair distance away from it, even as they kept it within sight. Everyone...except for Sybil, that was. She sat right next to it, staring at it.
"Don't trip over the corpses, lover!"
The whispers were still something she was getting used to, and a pain in the ass to boot. Her sire had said that getting used to it would just come with time, but he'd also told her to not take too much stock in the things that he told her.
After all he was, as he himself had put it, crazy.
But still, she looked at the briefcase, her Auspex glazing her eyes over as she read the aura. Flashes of anger, sorrow, and something else she didn't recognize. Another lots of something else she didn't recognize. If she was recognizing anything at all, now that she thought about it. But Auspex didn't lie. It hadn't with Mr. Smith, and his head had popped like an overripe melon on the vine. The same kind of look that this briefcase had had been surrounding his head.
"Somebody was angry when they made this." Sybil said. "Don't you think, Harriet?"
"...what are you talking about?" Grace's voice came from back toward the back wall. Sybil smiled a little to herself. The siren was a fun one.
"The case. And the book. And the tight hat." Sybil pointed. "All of it. Very angry. There's bad juju in here."
"What was your first clue?" Grace snorted.
"Because none of us have ever seen a man take on a lovely shade of red, have we?" Sybil stood up, looking to her three compatriots. "Or caused a man to take on a lovely shade of red." Her eyes flashed between them all.
"Not in the backseat of my car, I haven't." The diminutive redhead rolled her eyes, arms still crossed over her chest. Anthony was readjusting his glasses again, wiping a spot away on one of the frames as a poor attempt to disguise that he would not look the Malkavian in the eye at her question. Ben was silent, staring unblinking at the briefcase.
"So we know someone named Anton is looking for this book, that it blows off people's head, and that it's probably extremely bad news." Ben said. "I saw we bury it."
"Do what?" Anthony blinked.
"If it did it to him, why wouldn't it happen again?" Ben asked. "We take it to that crossroads back there, dig a nice hole, fill it with salt and-"
"Absolutely not!" Anthony protested, his glasses back on his face once more. "The Primogen made her orders very clear."
"And what about when her head goes boom?" Sybil asked, standing up and heading over to the others.
"That's what my contact is for!" The Tremere looked to her. "She'll know what to do with it, she's an expert in occult antiques."
"And what about when her head goes boom, I asked?" Sybil asked, hands going into the pockets of her overcoat.
"I already told you-"
"I meant your friend the first time, too." Sybil interrupted him. "Just because you can't stay ahead of the conversation doesn't mean I can't."
"You insolent-" Anthony started.
"Enough!" Ben shot the Tremere a warning look. "If we can't play nice, I guess we'll just have to sit here in silence until your contact gets here." With that, it seemed, they were to be quiet for a time. There was awkward fidgeting, nervousness about the whole group. Sybil didn't need Auspex to feel that, of course. Even Ben, who had been the hardest to read of all, had it etched in the corners of his eyes as he was watching them all almost as closely as Sybil watched them.
This all changed, however, as a midnight blue van came rolling up into the parking lot of the gas station.
"There she is." Anthony said, clearly rather relieved at the sight of the vehicle. The driver's side door opened up, and out came a dumpier woman in what looked like a brown button-down that stopped right above the belly button, with matching shorts. Her brown hair was allowed to fly free and her face was absolutely covered in freckles. "Marion, good to see you! How about you-"
"Spare me the pleasantries, Anthony...what is it?" The woman asked, running a hand through her chestnut locks. "You said you had something out of the ordinary for me to look at. Where is it?"
"Everyone, this is Marion." Anthony said, making a quick introduction. "Marion, could you just pull your van back around here?"
"No. It's there." Marion said, arms at her sides and a bored look on her face. "Where is the thing?"
"...let's make this quick, then." Ben said, gesturing for her to follow. The faster they got this done, the better chance they had of not being approached by...anyone, really. Chances were not something that he was fond of taking. The two Tremere followed in the Gangrel's wake, then the others. Immediately, Marion rushed ahead to inspect the case.
"Ohhhh, by the Pyramid, what have you gotten yourself into, Anthony?" She clucked, having by now opened the case and staring into it at the tome within.
"Is there anything you can do about it?" Anthony asked.
"Potentially. Did you check it?" Marion asked.
"What?"
Marion repeated her question.
"...how?"
"Auspex?"
"..."
"...Anthony? Do you have an answer?" She asked him with a pointed look.
"I...didn't think-"
"No. You never do." Marion tutted.
"I did!" Sybil said, raising a hand.
"See? Even the Malkavian has it together better than you." Marion said.
"Wait, how did you-?" Sybil asked, Marion responding just by touching a finger to her own temple. Ben felt himself tense ever so slightly. Auspex wasn't a Discipline he knew, nor was he particularly fond of it. He did his best to make his mind blank, thinking only of the task at hand.
"Anyway, yes, Anthony. I can take care of this." Marion said. "In return, however, you're going to give me a boon."
"Minor." Anthony said.
"Oh, no. Full boon." Her eyes flickered between the four others. "From all of you. Collectively."
"Well, if this isn't highway robbery, I don't know what is." Grace muttered.
"Well, it's either that...or it will kill you, next." Marion said, a glint flashing through her eyes as she looked at the other woman.
"Excuse me?" The songstress asked, her voice dropping an octave as if in warning.
"Your hat is too tight on your head." Sybil said. What followed was an all too long (and yet all too brief) moment of utter silence as Grace processed this.
"...a boon it is." She said, finally.
Several minutes later, Marion had retrieved two tomes (one of which she'd thrust into Anthony's hands, turned to a page, and told him to start chanting) and box of chalk. Finding a space by the disused generator of the gas station, she had spent several minutes painstakingly drawing out an intricate series of glyphs. Circles within circles within circles.
"What exactly is all this?" Sybil asked. Grace rolled her eyes, wishing the woman would shut her mouth. Alas, she was starting to feel rather...unwell. Something she'd remembered from her breathing days.
"If I told you that, I'd be giving away several centuries worth of Tremere study and research." Marion said. "And you, darlin', are not nearly pretty enough to be put to Death for flapping my lips to." She laughed as the Malkavian blinked. "Doing alright, Princess?"
"Oh, just fine!" Grace snapped, arms around herself. "I mean, my head might explode...but at least I'm still pretty."
"Relax...the curse will take a bit longer to settle in. You're not alive." Marion said, flicking her eyes over to the redhead. "Despite outward appearances." Grace knew well that, unlike many Kindred, she still have the glower of life about her skin. A testament, she thought, to her natural beauty. Others, like Marion, seemed simply jealous of what she'd been given. Not that she was overall surprised. "By the time it does, it'll be dealt with."
"I hope you're right." Grace muttered, shuffling her feet. She saw her ghouls waiting nearby, having already sent them away once. Their fawning over her was often quite welcome, but this was not one of those often times. Their adoration would be no help here, only this Tremere could give her what she needed.
"Alright, Anthony...keep the chanting up." Marion said, reaching into the satchel at her side, pulling out a vial. "Miss Penderghast, do not move, and the rest of you...may wish to look the other way." She uncorked the vial and poured its contents - some vitae - into the circle. Smoke began to rise from it and, a moment later, it flared up into an open flame.
Grace clenched her fist, suppressing the instinct to flee. To do all she could to get away from the flames that had been birthed so close to her form. It clawed at her, her Beast screaming in her ear to flee. To run. But she remained, as instructed. Anthony chanted, and the vitae came from the fire, floating in the air between Marion's hands.
"Ego sum unus! Ego sum in eos!" Marion chanted, the vitae floating in suspension between her fingers beginning to...dissolve? Grace could not tell. At the moment, she felt as though someone had grabbed hold of her heart and was pulling on it, as if trying to tear it from her body.
"What...is..." She gasped...actually gasped out. Was she...alive?!
"Sequitur quod per formam virtus! Non est meum ut iubes!" Marion continued, as if she did not even hear the woman speak. "Non est meum ut iubes!" Grace felt the pulling continue, as if her entire torso were begin pulled apart. She cried out in pain.
"Mistress!" Martin...or was it Mortimer...rushed forward with his counterpart. The two ghouls were immediately met by Ben, who stood before them with a raised hand.
"Don't." Ben gave only a single word. His back was to Grace so that, even if she had been able to see it, she could not have seen the look he gave. Even so, the two ghouls quickly fell back, their eyes widened with fear twice over.
Grace was screaming, her head had begun to pound along with the pulling feeling in her torso. "MY HEAD!" She screamed out as Marion continued to enact her spell. It was a few minutes more of Marion repeating her chant that Grace began to feel...endorphins? A feeling of elation, then calm was overtaking her, even to the point where the pain was beginning to dull and then stopped completely. Her tearing at her chest stopped...and the pounding of her head stopped.
She was not, to her surprise, standing over a pile of corpses or had been staked to a wall. She was...alright. Quickly, she pressed a hand to her chest...and felt no heartbeat.
"No, you're not alive." Marion said, the first words that Grace was cognizant of after all of that.
"Wh-What?" Grace asked, managing to get back to her feet. Marion gestured to Ben, who finally allowed Martin and Mortimer to pass. As Mortimer offered his arm, Grace took it, her fangs extending with record speed as she sank in. The sweet vitae filling her veins. Once she'd gorged herself, she remembered her standing. "...Mortimer." She intoned, and her dazed Ghoul quickly snapped back to his senses and pulled the kerchief from his breast pocket, offering it to her. "What do you mean?" Grace asked, wiping her mouth rather delicately with that bit of cloth. "What was that?"
"The curse was trying to kill you...but it couldn't figure out why you couldn't die." Marion said. "I presume it was trying to get your heart going again. Presumably."
"Or, theoretically, it might not have been meant for her specifically." Anthony said as he closed the tome that Marion had given him. The older Tremere half-turned to him.
"Nice to know you've been paying attention at Duncan's lectures. He'll be pleased." She said.
"Lord Apprentice Duncan." Anthony corrected sharply.
"Yes, one day even you may reach the Fifth Circle." Marion teased him.
"As thrilling as this all is...what happened, exactly?" Grace asked. "During the ritual, at the end...I was...calm. I didn't feel anything?"
"That was me." Sybil said. Grace's eyes, and the eyes of the others, flicked over to the Malkavian. "Sorry, I had to poke around in your head. Just a little. You would have Frenzied otherwise, and I don't-"
"Don't you dare poke around in my head! Ever!" Grace snapped at her, lurching toward her, leaving the circle. "Do you hear me?! EVER!" Sybil gritted her teeth, slumping slightly but not giving ground as the shorter woman rounded on her.
"Enough!" Ben snapped, getting the attention of both of them. "It's done. That's the important part." He looked to Marion. "It is done, isn't it? The curse is broken?"
"Well," Marion started, "I wouldn't exactly use the word 'broken', per se-"
"What?!" If the color could have drained from Grace's face, it would have in that moment.
"No no no, it's not on you." Marion shook her head. "See, I couldn't destroy the power...it's hermetic. I couldn't break it with Thaumaturgy, but I could redirect it. So to speak."
"Where did you redirect it to?" Grace asked. Marion's hand raised, and then pointed to a spot not too far from where they all stood - where the briefcase rested on the ground.
"In there."
"But the book!" Anthony protested. A moment later, Marion was holding it up to him. "...how did you get-?"
"Took it out before the ritual. Pay attention." Marion said, pressing it gingerly into Ben's hands. "The book's clean now. The curse is in the briefcase. And it can stay there."
"What the hell are we going to do with that?" Sybil asked.
"Bury it at the crossroads? Should keep it under wraps. At least for a century or two." Marion shrugged. "Either way, I did what you wanted. I'll call you when I need that Boon." She gathered up the now empty vial, the chalk, and the tomes and took them back to her van. She returned with a larger spray bottle of water and a sponge, both of which she tossed to Anthony. "Be sure to clean up." She said, gesturing to the still chalked circle. "Have a good night, all of you." She tossed her things back into her van, then got in herself, driving off.
It took very little time to dig a hole in the crossroads with Ben's Protean. A bit longer to fill the hole but, very soon, the hole had been dug, the briefcase dropped within, and it filled and - mostly - smoothed over.
"I don't like this..." Anthony muttered.
"You have a better suggestion?" Ben asked as he wiped the dirt from his hands.
"No." Anthony said. "I just know leaving something like that, even hidden, is a bad idea."
"Sucks." Ben said, heading back toward Grace's car. "C'mon, let's go."
Anthony looked back to the crossroads, noting the slightly elevated bump in the dirt, before he turned and left as well.
The ride back to the University was in silence. Ben, Sybil, and Anthony in the back among the bloodied remains of Mr. Smith (who had been laid to rest behind that gas station just as the briefcase had been at the crossroads before it) and Grace atop the lap of Mortimer while he and Martin sat in the front...among the other bloodied remains of Mr. Smith.
And, of course, their staked opposition who was occupying the trunk now.
"He goes to the Primogen." Anthony had said of him just before they'd left.
"No skin off my nose." Ben had replied, and the others had not seemed inclined to argue that point.
Their return to the University was nowhere near as tumultuous as the rest of their evening had been. Not even a lone security guard stopped them on their way back to the Liberal Arts building's loading dock. However, to their surprise, it was not Lilah Brook who met them. Instead, her Ghoul from before did so.
"Where is Mr. Smith?" The ghoul asked.
"Deceased." Anthony replied.
"The Primogen will be most displeased with-"
"Mind your tone, ghoul." Anthony said, having no fondness for such a tone. The ghoul stiffened his back slightly. "We have retrieved what he carried which, I think, Primogen Brook will be more than pleased with. And another...one of our attackers."
"We shall bring them to her at once." The ghoul said, turning to the others as he grabbed the staked vampire about the shoulders. "You shall be contacted by Primogen Brook when the item has been verified. Good evening to you." Anthony looked to the others with a light shrug before following the ghoul in through the doors at the far end of the room.
"How do you like that?" Sybil was the first to speak up after they'd left.
"Better than I'd hoped." Ben said, heading for the way they'd come in. Grace, on the other hand, was silent. With Mortimer and Martin in attendance, she left without a word, getting into her car and leaving forthwith.
"...chatty." Sybil muttered.
"Why'd you go poking around in her head?" Ben asked. The Malkavian was taken aback by the question. "I'm curious."
"I...thought it would help." Sybil answered, after a moment of thought. "Even she didn't deserve that."
"Questionable." Ben said. But there was something on his face - the faint ghost of a smile? - that made her think that he was being facetious. "Rather human of you, honestly."
"Not something you would have done?" Sybil asked him. There came no response from the Gangrel, him leaning against a pillar as he stared out into the night. She turned her head to look in the same direction, wondering what it was he could have been looking at. When she looked back, however, he was gone. "...what is it with everyone thinking they're Batman tonight?"
There was, of course, no trace of him to be found. With a resigned shrug, Sybil stuck her hands into the pockets of Harriet and walked across the grass back to her vehic-"Oh balls! My car's still at the airport!"
Anthony walked alongside the Ghoul, who had been assisted by others in bringing the body of the staked Kindred along. Anthony carried the Malleus Maleficarum with him, holding it delicately in his grip. His thoughts were afire with why the Primogen might need such a thing, what use it might have to her beyond simple educational material. Even so, he remembered the Code. Such thoughts were unbecoming and, as they approached the larger of the two ritual chambers, he found himself focusing upon the woman herself as she approached. Her face had been covered in glyphs drawn from vitae, and she looked upon the apprentice and the trio of ghouls with him.
"You have it?" She asked. Anthony was neither disappointed nor surprised to hear no question on Mr. Smith. Perhaps it was best, that way.
"Yes, Primogen." He nodded, handing the book over without so much as a single direction to do so.
"Excellent, Apprentice Wallace." Lilah said, taking the old tome in hand. "Tomorrow night, we shall see to your test for the Third Circle." Her eyes flicked over to the staked vampire. "And who is this?"
"One of those that were attacking the coterie attempting to get the book." Anthony told her.
"I see..." Lilah said, then gestured to the ghouls who moved the body into the ritual chamber. "Most excellent, Apprentice. You have done a great service to Clan Tremere, and we do not forget those that show us loyalty." She said. "The rest of the evening is yours. Go." She then went into the ritual chamber, the door closing behind her.
Anthony walked off, heading back to his small office to continue his work. As he passed around the corner, a bloodcurdling scream cut the air and jarred him for a moment. Upon realizing that it had come from the staked vampire, and that it had come from the room he'd composed himself before continuing on the path.
No need to pry there. He knew all too well what was happening...
"So we know someone named Anton is looking for this book, that it blows off people's head, and that it's probably extremely bad news." Ben said. "I saw we bury it."
"Do what?" Anthony blinked.
"If it did it to him, why wouldn't it happen again?" Ben asked. "We take it to that crossroads back there, dig a nice hole, fill it with salt and-"
"Absolutely not!" Anthony protested, his glasses back on his face once more. "The Primogen made her orders very clear."
"And what about when her head goes boom?" Sybil asked, standing up and heading over to the others.
"That's what my contact is for!" The Tremere looked to her. "She'll know what to do with it, she's an expert in occult antiques."
"And what about when her head goes boom, I asked?" Sybil asked, hands going into the pockets of her overcoat.
"I already told you-"
"I meant your friend the first time, too." Sybil interrupted him. "Just because you can't stay ahead of the conversation doesn't mean I can't."
"You insolent-" Anthony started.
"Enough!" Ben shot the Tremere a warning look. "If we can't play nice, I guess we'll just have to sit here in silence until your contact gets here." With that, it seemed, they were to be quiet for a time. There was awkward fidgeting, nervousness about the whole group. Sybil didn't need Auspex to feel that, of course. Even Ben, who had been the hardest to read of all, had it etched in the corners of his eyes as he was watching them all almost as closely as Sybil watched them.
This all changed, however, as a midnight blue van came rolling up into the parking lot of the gas station.
"There she is." Anthony said, clearly rather relieved at the sight of the vehicle. The driver's side door opened up, and out came a dumpier woman in what looked like a brown button-down that stopped right above the belly button, with matching shorts. Her brown hair was allowed to fly free and her face was absolutely covered in freckles. "Marion, good to see you! How about you-"
"Spare me the pleasantries, Anthony...what is it?" The woman asked, running a hand through her chestnut locks. "You said you had something out of the ordinary for me to look at. Where is it?"
"Everyone, this is Marion." Anthony said, making a quick introduction. "Marion, could you just pull your van back around here?"
"No. It's there." Marion said, arms at her sides and a bored look on her face. "Where is the thing?"
"...let's make this quick, then." Ben said, gesturing for her to follow. The faster they got this done, the better chance they had of not being approached by...anyone, really. Chances were not something that he was fond of taking. The two Tremere followed in the Gangrel's wake, then the others. Immediately, Marion rushed ahead to inspect the case.
"Ohhhh, by the Pyramid, what have you gotten yourself into, Anthony?" She clucked, having by now opened the case and staring into it at the tome within.
"Is there anything you can do about it?" Anthony asked.
"Potentially. Did you check it?" Marion asked.
"What?"
Marion repeated her question.
"...how?"
"Auspex?"
"..."
"...Anthony? Do you have an answer?" She asked him with a pointed look.
"I...didn't think-"
"No. You never do." Marion tutted.
"I did!" Sybil said, raising a hand.
"See? Even the Malkavian has it together better than you." Marion said.
"Wait, how did you-?" Sybil asked, Marion responding just by touching a finger to her own temple. Ben felt himself tense ever so slightly. Auspex wasn't a Discipline he knew, nor was he particularly fond of it. He did his best to make his mind blank, thinking only of the task at hand.
"Anyway, yes, Anthony. I can take care of this." Marion said. "In return, however, you're going to give me a boon."
"Minor." Anthony said.
"Oh, no. Full boon." Her eyes flickered between the four others. "From all of you. Collectively."
"Well, if this isn't highway robbery, I don't know what is." Grace muttered.
"Well, it's either that...or it will kill you, next." Marion said, a glint flashing through her eyes as she looked at the other woman.
"Excuse me?" The songstress asked, her voice dropping an octave as if in warning.
"Your hat is too tight on your head." Sybil said. What followed was an all too long (and yet all too brief) moment of utter silence as Grace processed this.
"...a boon it is." She said, finally.
Several minutes later, Marion had retrieved two tomes (one of which she'd thrust into Anthony's hands, turned to a page, and told him to start chanting) and box of chalk. Finding a space by the disused generator of the gas station, she had spent several minutes painstakingly drawing out an intricate series of glyphs. Circles within circles within circles.
"What exactly is all this?" Sybil asked. Grace rolled her eyes, wishing the woman would shut her mouth. Alas, she was starting to feel rather...unwell. Something she'd remembered from her breathing days.
"If I told you that, I'd be giving away several centuries worth of Tremere study and research." Marion said. "And you, darlin', are not nearly pretty enough to be put to Death for flapping my lips to." She laughed as the Malkavian blinked. "Doing alright, Princess?"
"Oh, just fine!" Grace snapped, arms around herself. "I mean, my head might explode...but at least I'm still pretty."
"Relax...the curse will take a bit longer to settle in. You're not alive." Marion said, flicking her eyes over to the redhead. "Despite outward appearances." Grace knew well that, unlike many Kindred, she still have the glower of life about her skin. A testament, she thought, to her natural beauty. Others, like Marion, seemed simply jealous of what she'd been given. Not that she was overall surprised. "By the time it does, it'll be dealt with."
"I hope you're right." Grace muttered, shuffling her feet. She saw her ghouls waiting nearby, having already sent them away once. Their fawning over her was often quite welcome, but this was not one of those often times. Their adoration would be no help here, only this Tremere could give her what she needed.
"Alright, Anthony...keep the chanting up." Marion said, reaching into the satchel at her side, pulling out a vial. "Miss Penderghast, do not move, and the rest of you...may wish to look the other way." She uncorked the vial and poured its contents - some vitae - into the circle. Smoke began to rise from it and, a moment later, it flared up into an open flame.
Grace clenched her fist, suppressing the instinct to flee. To do all she could to get away from the flames that had been birthed so close to her form. It clawed at her, her Beast screaming in her ear to flee. To run. But she remained, as instructed. Anthony chanted, and the vitae came from the fire, floating in the air between Marion's hands.
"Ego sum unus! Ego sum in eos!" Marion chanted, the vitae floating in suspension between her fingers beginning to...dissolve? Grace could not tell. At the moment, she felt as though someone had grabbed hold of her heart and was pulling on it, as if trying to tear it from her body.
"What...is..." She gasped...actually gasped out. Was she...alive?!
"Sequitur quod per formam virtus! Non est meum ut iubes!" Marion continued, as if she did not even hear the woman speak. "Non est meum ut iubes!" Grace felt the pulling continue, as if her entire torso were begin pulled apart. She cried out in pain.
"Mistress!" Martin...or was it Mortimer...rushed forward with his counterpart. The two ghouls were immediately met by Ben, who stood before them with a raised hand.
"Don't." Ben gave only a single word. His back was to Grace so that, even if she had been able to see it, she could not have seen the look he gave. Even so, the two ghouls quickly fell back, their eyes widened with fear twice over.
Grace was screaming, her head had begun to pound along with the pulling feeling in her torso. "MY HEAD!" She screamed out as Marion continued to enact her spell. It was a few minutes more of Marion repeating her chant that Grace began to feel...endorphins? A feeling of elation, then calm was overtaking her, even to the point where the pain was beginning to dull and then stopped completely. Her tearing at her chest stopped...and the pounding of her head stopped.
She was not, to her surprise, standing over a pile of corpses or had been staked to a wall. She was...alright. Quickly, she pressed a hand to her chest...and felt no heartbeat.
"No, you're not alive." Marion said, the first words that Grace was cognizant of after all of that.
"Wh-What?" Grace asked, managing to get back to her feet. Marion gestured to Ben, who finally allowed Martin and Mortimer to pass. As Mortimer offered his arm, Grace took it, her fangs extending with record speed as she sank in. The sweet vitae filling her veins. Once she'd gorged herself, she remembered her standing. "...Mortimer." She intoned, and her dazed Ghoul quickly snapped back to his senses and pulled the kerchief from his breast pocket, offering it to her. "What do you mean?" Grace asked, wiping her mouth rather delicately with that bit of cloth. "What was that?"
"The curse was trying to kill you...but it couldn't figure out why you couldn't die." Marion said. "I presume it was trying to get your heart going again. Presumably."
"Or, theoretically, it might not have been meant for her specifically." Anthony said as he closed the tome that Marion had given him. The older Tremere half-turned to him.
"Nice to know you've been paying attention at Duncan's lectures. He'll be pleased." She said.
"Lord Apprentice Duncan." Anthony corrected sharply.
"Yes, one day even you may reach the Fifth Circle." Marion teased him.
"As thrilling as this all is...what happened, exactly?" Grace asked. "During the ritual, at the end...I was...calm. I didn't feel anything?"
"That was me." Sybil said. Grace's eyes, and the eyes of the others, flicked over to the Malkavian. "Sorry, I had to poke around in your head. Just a little. You would have Frenzied otherwise, and I don't-"
"Don't you dare poke around in my head! Ever!" Grace snapped at her, lurching toward her, leaving the circle. "Do you hear me?! EVER!" Sybil gritted her teeth, slumping slightly but not giving ground as the shorter woman rounded on her.
"Enough!" Ben snapped, getting the attention of both of them. "It's done. That's the important part." He looked to Marion. "It is done, isn't it? The curse is broken?"
"Well," Marion started, "I wouldn't exactly use the word 'broken', per se-"
"What?!" If the color could have drained from Grace's face, it would have in that moment.
"No no no, it's not on you." Marion shook her head. "See, I couldn't destroy the power...it's hermetic. I couldn't break it with Thaumaturgy, but I could redirect it. So to speak."
"Where did you redirect it to?" Grace asked. Marion's hand raised, and then pointed to a spot not too far from where they all stood - where the briefcase rested on the ground.
"In there."
"But the book!" Anthony protested. A moment later, Marion was holding it up to him. "...how did you get-?"
"Took it out before the ritual. Pay attention." Marion said, pressing it gingerly into Ben's hands. "The book's clean now. The curse is in the briefcase. And it can stay there."
"What the hell are we going to do with that?" Sybil asked.
"Bury it at the crossroads? Should keep it under wraps. At least for a century or two." Marion shrugged. "Either way, I did what you wanted. I'll call you when I need that Boon." She gathered up the now empty vial, the chalk, and the tomes and took them back to her van. She returned with a larger spray bottle of water and a sponge, both of which she tossed to Anthony. "Be sure to clean up." She said, gesturing to the still chalked circle. "Have a good night, all of you." She tossed her things back into her van, then got in herself, driving off.
It took very little time to dig a hole in the crossroads with Ben's Protean. A bit longer to fill the hole but, very soon, the hole had been dug, the briefcase dropped within, and it filled and - mostly - smoothed over.
"I don't like this..." Anthony muttered.
"You have a better suggestion?" Ben asked as he wiped the dirt from his hands.
"No." Anthony said. "I just know leaving something like that, even hidden, is a bad idea."
"Sucks." Ben said, heading back toward Grace's car. "C'mon, let's go."
Anthony looked back to the crossroads, noting the slightly elevated bump in the dirt, before he turned and left as well.
The ride back to the University was in silence. Ben, Sybil, and Anthony in the back among the bloodied remains of Mr. Smith (who had been laid to rest behind that gas station just as the briefcase had been at the crossroads before it) and Grace atop the lap of Mortimer while he and Martin sat in the front...among the other bloodied remains of Mr. Smith.
And, of course, their staked opposition who was occupying the trunk now.
"He goes to the Primogen." Anthony had said of him just before they'd left.
"No skin off my nose." Ben had replied, and the others had not seemed inclined to argue that point.
Their return to the University was nowhere near as tumultuous as the rest of their evening had been. Not even a lone security guard stopped them on their way back to the Liberal Arts building's loading dock. However, to their surprise, it was not Lilah Brook who met them. Instead, her Ghoul from before did so.
"Where is Mr. Smith?" The ghoul asked.
"Deceased." Anthony replied.
"The Primogen will be most displeased with-"
"Mind your tone, ghoul." Anthony said, having no fondness for such a tone. The ghoul stiffened his back slightly. "We have retrieved what he carried which, I think, Primogen Brook will be more than pleased with. And another...one of our attackers."
"We shall bring them to her at once." The ghoul said, turning to the others as he grabbed the staked vampire about the shoulders. "You shall be contacted by Primogen Brook when the item has been verified. Good evening to you." Anthony looked to the others with a light shrug before following the ghoul in through the doors at the far end of the room.
"How do you like that?" Sybil was the first to speak up after they'd left.
"Better than I'd hoped." Ben said, heading for the way they'd come in. Grace, on the other hand, was silent. With Mortimer and Martin in attendance, she left without a word, getting into her car and leaving forthwith.
"...chatty." Sybil muttered.
"Why'd you go poking around in her head?" Ben asked. The Malkavian was taken aback by the question. "I'm curious."
"I...thought it would help." Sybil answered, after a moment of thought. "Even she didn't deserve that."
"Questionable." Ben said. But there was something on his face - the faint ghost of a smile? - that made her think that he was being facetious. "Rather human of you, honestly."
"Not something you would have done?" Sybil asked him. There came no response from the Gangrel, him leaning against a pillar as he stared out into the night. She turned her head to look in the same direction, wondering what it was he could have been looking at. When she looked back, however, he was gone. "...what is it with everyone thinking they're Batman tonight?"
There was, of course, no trace of him to be found. With a resigned shrug, Sybil stuck her hands into the pockets of Harriet and walked across the grass back to her vehic-"Oh balls! My car's still at the airport!"
Anthony walked alongside the Ghoul, who had been assisted by others in bringing the body of the staked Kindred along. Anthony carried the Malleus Maleficarum with him, holding it delicately in his grip. His thoughts were afire with why the Primogen might need such a thing, what use it might have to her beyond simple educational material. Even so, he remembered the Code. Such thoughts were unbecoming and, as they approached the larger of the two ritual chambers, he found himself focusing upon the woman herself as she approached. Her face had been covered in glyphs drawn from vitae, and she looked upon the apprentice and the trio of ghouls with him.
"You have it?" She asked. Anthony was neither disappointed nor surprised to hear no question on Mr. Smith. Perhaps it was best, that way.
"Yes, Primogen." He nodded, handing the book over without so much as a single direction to do so.
"Excellent, Apprentice Wallace." Lilah said, taking the old tome in hand. "Tomorrow night, we shall see to your test for the Third Circle." Her eyes flicked over to the staked vampire. "And who is this?"
"One of those that were attacking the coterie attempting to get the book." Anthony told her.
"I see..." Lilah said, then gestured to the ghouls who moved the body into the ritual chamber. "Most excellent, Apprentice. You have done a great service to Clan Tremere, and we do not forget those that show us loyalty." She said. "The rest of the evening is yours. Go." She then went into the ritual chamber, the door closing behind her.
Anthony walked off, heading back to his small office to continue his work. As he passed around the corner, a bloodcurdling scream cut the air and jarred him for a moment. Upon realizing that it had come from the staked vampire, and that it had come from the room he'd composed himself before continuing on the path.
No need to pry there. He knew all too well what was happening...
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