1996
He had taken off from the place at speeds that would have confounded a mortal. He hadn't even realized when he'd crossed the border until he saw different street signs. Finally, he'd come to America. . .not exactly what he'd had in mind for how he would get there, but just the same. Hearing the oncoming car, he ducked into the bushes, quietly shushing the little bundle he held close to his arms as it began to wail once more. There was little he could do to quiet it, however. He tucked it close to him and headed down the way, but didn't get more than three steps before. . .
"Well, hello there." The man's voice caught his attention, he froze on the spot without turning. "Now what is the Wolf of Vancouver doing so far, far away from home?"
"I don't know what you-"
"How many winters?" The younger man's face contorted in confusion.
"What?" He asked.
The older man repeated his question.
"I don't. . .understand what you're asking." Benjamin Grayson said, turning to see the man. He looked to be an older man, maybe sixty or so by appearance. His skin was pale, his eyes a deep green that had become dull and listless in life. A crop of black-gray hair shot out from his head.
"That's good. . .that's the beginning of knowledge, young wolf." The old man grinned, approaching him.
2018
Benjamin Grayson now stood in the small kitchenette at the Haven of Hope homeless shelter, tending to a very frantic Angelica Knox.
"And those men just came out of nowhere-"
"Uh-huh."
"I mean, one of them even had a gun. Like, an actual gun! A real-"
"Uh-huh."
"I mean, I thought Seattle was supposed to be a safe town-"
"Angelica."
"But they just pop up and just-"
"Angelica."
"What?!" Angelica nearly jumped high enough to touch the ceiling as she was snapped from her rant. Ben could almost hear her heart beating without enhanced senses. It was. . .kind of adorable, actually.
"Breathe." Ben suggested. Angelica did so, not seeming to realize that she'd been holding in a breath. Her muscles untensed.
"S-Sorry."
"There's really no reason to be sorry." Ben shook his head. "But you didn't answer my question."
"What?" Angelica blinked. "What question?"
"The thugs. What's up with them?" Ben asked. Immediately, Angelica was tense again, her face twisted in a wince.
"I. . .I don't know."
"You're. . .not a really good liar." Ben said. "Sorry."
"No," Angelica sighed, "No, I'm not." She walked over to the small table, picking up an envelope from it and holding it out to him. Ben took it, examining the return address. The law office of Feldman, Shepherd, & Matthews. "It started about a month ago, with that letter." At her gesturing, Ben pulled it out and scanned it.
"A client was wanting to purchase the land?" Ben asked. "Why?"
"I don't know." Angelica said. "But about a week after that, we had attacks."
"Attacks? You mean like that out there?"
"No, not that overt. Not then, anyway." Angelica shook his head. "They'd just intimidate the people coming in or staff. Over the weeks after, it got worse. Nancy, the day manager, was roughed up by some of them a few days ago. That's why I carry this." She lifted up a small spray can of mace she had on her keychain. "Not that I got a chance to use it, but." She shrugged.
"And you think that these goons are related to the letter?" Ben asked.
"Letters. That was just the first one." Angelica said. "Our organization turned down the first one, but every week like clockwork another came. Eventually, they stopped listing a price and just said 'negotiable'. We sent that one back, too."
"Why?" Ben asked her. Angelica stared at him for a long moment.
"Because the work we do here is important." Angelica said. "We keep people off the streets, try to help them get back on their feet and make something of their lives. We can't just stop doing that."
"Yeah, but you could take the money and set up somewhere else, right?" Ben asked.
"Where?" Angelica asked. "Besides, even if we did do that, the people that we help here can't go there. It's also not like real estate is falling out of the sky in Seattle. We take what we get, and we do our best with it." Ben pondered this. From anyone else, it would have sounded cheesy, but she somehow was able to sell it. Even to him.
"Hang on. I'll send a text." Ben said. "I think I know someone who can help."
Oh, thinkin' about all our younger years
There was only you and me
We were young and wild and free
Now, nothing can take you away from me
We've been down that road before
But that's over now
You keep me comin' back for more
Grace Penderghast was laughing as Isaac pressed strings of kisses against her neck and shoulder, his hands smoothing along her petite form. Her voice and a light rock tune playing in the background through a strategically placed speaker. To Isaac Carroway, everywhere was a showroom. Even the bedroom.
Especially the bedroom, when it came to entertaining Grace Penderghast, at the moment having her drink from his very veins. Just the tiniest little bit.
"Mmm. . .tell me, Isaac." Grace grinned, tapping her fingers against his bare neck. "Do you treat all your singers to your blood?" She asked him. "While listening to their music?"
"Mmm. . .no." Isaac said, leaning back slightly to gaze into her eyes. "Only the spectacular one."
"Flatterer." Grace chuckled, the flat of a finger tapping her sire's nose. "Like it will get you anything from me. . ."
"The night is still young, Miss Penderghast." Isaac took her hand in both of his own, kissing the tips of her fingers. "I have many, many more hours to flatter you." He leaned in, pressing his lips to her neck. His fangs popped out, teasing against her skin in a way that made the younger Toreador shiver with pleasure.
Suddenly, there was a vibrating.
Unfortunately for Grace, it was her cell phone on the bedside table.
"It's a text. They can wait." Isaac insisted, not stopping in his ministration of her tender flesh. Grace, however, did stop him, tracing a hand against his cheek.
"Patience, Isaac." Grace said. "Like you said, we have all night." Getting up, wrapping the sheets around herself, she grabbed the phone and unlocked the screen, reading the text. ". . .goddamnit."
"What?" Isaac asked as he watched Grace rise, the sheets dropping from her, as she started putting on her dress once more.
"My coterie." Grace sighed, looking less than pleased. Then again, neither did Isaac.
A short time later, Grace was even less pleased.
"Are you kidding me?!"
It was about an hour later when she'd arrived at the front doorstep of Haven of Hope. She'd gone from a light evening gown that had been as easily removed to a more casual look - a designer jacket over a black top and equally black leggings.
"I thought we were part of a coterie and-"
"I was busy!" Grace sniffed indignantly. "Isaac and I were having a lovely night in, not that it's any of your business."
"And you can go back as soon as this is resolved." Ben said. "I just need a favor."
"From me?" Grace asked. "Why?" Her answer came as Ben held up an envelope that had been opened. She recognized the logo as soon as she saw it: Feldman, Shepherd, & Matthews Attorneys at Law. She looked up to Ben. ". . .and how do you know that I know anything about this?"
"Simple." Ben said. "You're on their client list."
2013
The metal bars of the cell slid open and a buzzer sounded, echoing against the walls of the prison wing.
"Penderghast. Your lawyer's here."
Frank Penderghast blinked as he stared up at the backlit prison guard, standing in the doorway of his cell. In his cuffs, Frank was led down the corridor toward the visitor area. Uncuffed, he was allowed in and came to a table where he found a familiar face sitting.
"Fabian! Good to see you!"
"Mr. Penderghast." The pale lawyer nodded to his employer of the past eleven years. "Would you please have a seat?" The older man did do just that, sitting down in the chair across from him.
"How goes my appeal?" Frank asked. "And how is Elise?"
"I'm afraid not well, Mr. Penderghast." Fabian said, not looking up as opened his briefcase that he'd put upon the table top. He removed a manila folder, stuffed to the brim with papers, and a single pen. "I withdrew the appeal less than an hour ago."
"You did what?" Frank roared at him.
"I do not believe I stuttered, Mr. Penderghast." Fabian replied without so much as a change in expression, as though Frank were merely discussing the weather with him. "I withdrew your appeal."
"Why?!" Frank's face reddened, his fist slamming against the table. "Are you out of your mind?"
"Not at all, Mr. Penderghast." Fabian was still staring at him with a cold, dead stare. "I simply received a far better offer than working for a guilty man."
"What?!"
"Your daughter." Fabian said. "A rather enterprising young woman. I'm here to clean up a problem for her and make a tidy profit from it."
"That traitorous little bitch!" Frank spat. "How dare she and you do this to me?"
"It's just business, Mr. Penderghast." Fabian said, opening the file folder before him, clicking the pen before setting it down upon them. "I just need you to sign these papers."
"What?!" Frank was a being of pure rage in the moment, standing up and slamming his fist against the table.
"The comparatively paltry assets you retained need to be transferred." Fabian said. "You certainly won't be needing them where you're going."
"This is outrageous!" Frank spat. "You've betrayed me! And she's betrayed me!"
"As I recall, Mr. Penderghast, you betrayed her first." Fabian said. "Who turns their own daughter out into the streets? Rather tasteless for a man of your standing."
"Excuse me?" Frank snatched up the pen, chucking it at the far wall. "Go to Hell! I'm not signing anything!"
"I'm afraid that isn't an option for you anymore." Fabian said, his eyes still looking up at the man. "Get. The. Pen." Frank was about to react when he suddenly froze. His mind seemed in a daze, the man only having vague awareness of walking over and picking up the pen he had just thrown in his rage. "Very good. Sit down here."
Once again, in his dazed state, he was suddenly in the chair once more.
"Sign the contract." The pen scratched against the paper at the appropriate blanks, one after the other. "Very good." There was something that sounded like the snapping of fingers. When Frank came to, he saw Fabian closing up his briefcase.
"Mr. Penderghast," Fabian said as he adjusted the plum-colored tie around his neck. "It is my unpleasant duty to inform you that the law firm of Feldman, Shepherd, & Matthews will no longer be representing you as our client. Have a nice day."
"You bastard!" Frank shouted, getting up once more with the intention of moving over and strangling his (former) lawyer. A pair of arms grabbing either of his own, however, kept him from doing that. Frank swore and yelled and struggled, all of it in vain as he was dragged away. Fabian White, blank-faced as ever, opened another door and exited through it. Outside in the hallway was his new client, a woman in a black dress that went down past the knee, her lips in a small, satisfied smile.
"It's done." Fabian said. "I'll have the paperwork filed before sunrise."
"Thank you, Fabian." Grace said.
"No thanks are necessary, Miss Penderghast. It is my job." Fabian said. "We see to it that our clients receive the best of care at Feldman, Shepherd, & Matthews."
"I can see that." Grace replied sardonically. "Remind me to never have any children that will betray me."
"Given. . .recent events. . ." Fabian said. "I cannot imagine that will be a problem for you."
"No. . ." Grace rubbed the flat of her hand against her other arm, along the vein that no longer pumped blood through it. "No, I suppose it won't."
2018
" . . .even if I agree to this-" Grace said.
"Minor boon. No strings." Ben cut her off. "I just need to find out who is behind the attempts to buy the property." Grace looked at him for a long, hard moment.
"Benjamin?" A woman's voice caught Grace's attention, both she and Ben turning to see her. Grace noted that the woman had a mess of curly, red hair on top of her head, and a bit top-heavy in a otherwise fairly slender figure. She wore a t-shirt, jeans, and a light button-up sweater that had been left unbuttoned. A pair of blue eyes stared out at the pair of Kindred. "Is. . .is this your friend?" She asked, looking a bit tired and somewhat confused.
Grace looked between the Gangrel and the woman, and put two and two together.
"Ohhhhhh!" Grace exclaimed.
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