There was no further incident at the Haven of Hope, at least not that night. There also had not been any further incident on the day or night that followed. When Ben rose at 6:45 that night, and journeyed over to the shelter, he got the news. No thug attacks, no nothing. Angelica, however, was off that particular night at the insistence of the person he had spoken to - Erica.
With that, Ben had moved into the diner that he'd described to Griggs. He sat, undisturbed, in a booth in the corner as it was currently just late enough to avoid the dinner crowd, but early enough that the usual junkies and hoodlums who frequented here weren't yet in. At 7:30, he quickly realized he was not alone. . .
"Hello! Hello! Hello!" Sybil's voice chirped as she entered the place, with Anthony, Grace, and surprisingly Hope following on behind her.
"What exactly are you all doing?" Ben asked.
". . .uh, we're your coterie?" Sybil asked. "We're the team. Gotta stick together."
"I was going to handle this alone." Ben said.
"Tough shit." Grace said. "We're here, and you need someone who actually knows how to negotiate." The Toreador looked around at every surface, as though she were afraid to sit on or touch anything there.
"Welcome to the Red Rooster Diner! Can I get you a-" An overweight woman with a hairnet stepped up to speak to the newcomers.
"Go away and don't bother us." Grace stared the woman down, her words enchanted by her vitae. The woman seized up and immediately turned and left to go back to the counter. ". . .for pity's sake. This venue is bad enou-"
"You're saying I don't know how to negotiate? That was unnecessary." Ben said. His eyes flickered over to Hope. ". . .and you're here because?"
"I'm fun." Hope said with a smile.
"She's fun." Sybil nodded in agreement.
"See?" Hope pointed to the Malkavian while looking at Ben. "I'm fun."
"This is ridic-" Ben started, but his eyes caught movement outside the diner. "He's here. . ." The other Kindred looked to the window and saw a Bentley pulling into the parking lot. Out first were a pair of men in black suits and sunglasses - a security detail. Out next was a third man in a similar suit and glasses. . .and an older, paler man in a black suit with a royal blue tie. He had very thin, drawn features, with a particularly angular face. A pair of black eyes were sunken a bit into the skull, almost giving him a sort of reptilian look.
As he and his men approached the diner, the man looked about the place with a disgust similar to that that Grace had shown only a few minutes before.
"Welcome to the Red Rooster Diner! Can I get you-" The overweight woman began her greeting to him as she seemed to to all newcomers, only to be cut off once again.
"Go home and forget you ever saw me." The man hissed at her. The woman once more seized up and, instead of going back behind the counter, she seemed to shamble toward the front door and out into the street. Now, only the six Kindred and the man's bodyguard remained in the diner's dining area. "Estevan, see to it that the cook remains...undisturbed in his work."
"Yes, Mr. Corwin." The black-suited man in the sunglasses journeyed into the kitchen area, the door swinging to and fro on the frame for a few seconds after he passed through it.
"Now," The man who had been identified as Stephen Corwin addressed the other vampires in the room, "I was informed that my presence was requested for a meeting. I am here." His eyes looked around the area. "I must say, this is hardly a suitable meeting place."
"Mr. Corwin, welcome." Grace said, coming forward and giving a bit of a bow. "I am Grace Penderghast of Clan Toreador and this. . .is not my idea of a suitable meeting place, either."
"You were not the one who called me here, as I recall, Miss Penderghast." Corwin said to her, his eyes fixing on the Gangrel in the room. "He did."
"Correct." Ben said, arms crossed over his chest. "You have some information I want."
"As I recall, I owe you no Boo-"
"There's a piece of land you've been trying to buy." Ben cut him off.
"I have several attempted land acquisitions that are proceeding apa-"
"Haven of Hope." Once more, the Ventrue was cut off. "Why do you want it so badly?" Corwin stared at him for a long moment, clearly taking deep offense to being cut off so brashly.
"Who exactly do you think you are?" Corwin asked. "Roughing up one of my employees. Digging into my financial records. Rather presumptuous of a man who has been a virtual hermit since he came to this city."
"You know how the game works," Ben said, "negotiate from a position of power." Another silence. Grace, her face peaked with nervousness, attempted to intercede.
"Why don't we-"
"Do you speak for your coterie, Gangrel?" Corwin ignored the Toreador trying to make peace and instead kept his attention focused on Ben.
"He does not!" Anthony protested.
"He can speak for me, I don't really care." Sybil said.
"I don't speak for anyone but me, Corwin." Ben said. "I asked you here, and I am the one who wants information from you. They came because they're in my coterie." Again, the Ventrue watched the group very closely, his long-dead eyes passing over each member in turn.
". . .I see." Corwin said. "In any case, Mr. Grayson - yes, the name of the place does sound familiar. No doubt it's one of my many ongoing acquisitions."
"Until they turned away your last offer." Ben said.
"Sometimes Kine require incentive to fall in line." Corwin said. "Sometimes it's the promise of power, sometimes wealth, sometimes. . .fear."
"Well, your lapdogs sucked at that!" Sybil snorted. "And at poker, for that matter! I mean, one of them tried to use an Uno card. Seriously!"
"Can you please silence your chattering Malkavian?" Corwin asked, distastefully half-glancing back toward Ben.
"Sybil." Ben said calmly, gesturing with a raised hand for her to deescalate. When it was clear she wasn't going to intercede again, Ben went on. "I just find it bizarre that a businessman of your standing would care about one little building in the middle of Seattle. As I recall, your company doesn't do low-end projects."
"Your knowledge of the real estate market in Seattle is questionable at best, Mr. Grayson." Corwin said. "Less so is mine. There's no more to it than that. Frankly, I shouldn't even tell you that, considering the rudeness that you've shown."
The other Kindred looked between the two as they watched each other intensely. Time seemed to stand still around them, more so than it already did. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock over the counter.
". . .alright then. Sorry to bother you." Ben said, his demeanor seemingly changing entirely.
"What?" Corwin asked.
"Sorry to bother you." Ben repeated. "Have a good night." He gestured to the door. Corwin stared at him for a long moment, utter shock on his face, before he resumed a normal stoicism. He tapped his earpiece. "Estevan. We're leaving." He turned, heading for the door. Estevan, the towering man from earlier, journeyed out from the kitchen to join his employer. The two men also on security detailed guided them back to the car and soon they were off.
". . .okay, you have no idea how to conduct a business negotiation, do you?" Grace asked.
"Not exactly my cup of tea, no." Ben said. "But I got what I wanted to know."
"What? You mean that Blue Blood guy's trying to muscle out that homeless shelter? How does that help?" Hope asked.
"No, I already knew that." Ben said. "Now I know he's hiding something."
"Hiding something? How could you tell?" Grace asked.
"Just a hunch, but-" Ben started.
"He is." Sybil said. When all eyes fell on her, she elaborated. "The man had more tells than a narrator. There's something more to this than him just wanting a new vacation spot."
"Right." Ben said. "And I think it's time we figure out what."
"How so?" Anthony asked.
"We're going to check out the shelter."
A short trip back to the shelter later and they were speaking with Erica, who was still on the night shift.
"I don't understand." Erica said for the second time.
"We're just wanting to check your building for building code violations, Miss. . ." Sybil started.
". . .Carl."
"Right, Carl. Miss Carl. Carly Carl." Sybil rapid-fired. "May we come in?"
"The police are doing building code violations?" Erica asked skeptically.
"We're diversifying the workforce!" Sybil replied enthusiastically.
"What my colleague is trying to say is," Grace said, nudging her way to the front and being sure to make eye contact with Erica, "let us in and leave us alone to investigate." For the third time that night, the Kindred watched someone seize up and obey the instruction they were given.
"That wasn't necessary." Ben said as he stepped from the shadows.
"Just moving this along." Grace said. "I also need to feed soon, so it's a good job we're here."
"You are not feeding off of anyone in here." Ben scowled.
"Why not?" Sybil asked. "It's basically Meals on Whe-"
"I'm going to have to stop you right there." Grace interrupted. "I think I've lost my appetite."
"Just as well." Anthony said, adjusting his glasses. "We shouldn't be calling attention to ourselves." With that, the group of five vampires made their way into the shelter. Despite a few urges of her Beast, Grace was able to keep it down and focus on the task at hand, as were the others. The first floor and the second revealed nothing strange.
In the kitchen, however, Sybil suddenly had something strike her.
"The Key below. The Key below. The Key below."
"Ugh! Fucking fine!" She circled the room three times before leaving it. "I know where what we're looking for is!" She announced loudly.
"Oh, really? What's that?" Anthony asked, using his Auspex to examine the contents of the vegetable cupboard given how hard he was grasping at straws at this point. Sybil walked right past him, heading out into the building again. Her movement caught the attention of her coterie, who moved to follow her. She journeyed down a hallway, then another, and then back the other way a few times before she came to a door that she opened up. . .and it led down into a basement. The wooden steps creaked as they made their way down onto the cold concrete.
"What exactly are you doing?" Grace asked.
"Shhh!" Sybil stepped out, walking over to a spot on the floor and circling it three times before pointing downward at it. "There!" She pointed to a crack in the concrete, one that would have gone unnoticed by any of them in any other situation.
". . .so you've found a crack in the foundation. So what?" The Toreador among them raised a brow.
"The thing. It's here." Sybil said, pointing emphatically. "It spoke to me!" The voice chanting in her head had stopped, apparently pleased with it's target having been found.
"Sybil. . ." Ben started.
"No, wait." Anthony had challenged his Auspex, his vitae boiling as he gazed at the ground. "She's right, there's something there. . .something made of blood sorcery."
". . .the fuck?" Ben stared at him. A loud thud got everyone's attention, the second one got everyone looking around to the spot that Sybil had pointed out. Hope was pounding her fists into the concrete, shattering it.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Anthony nearly shouted.
"What?" Hope asked, looking up at him with utter confusion.
"BLOOD SORCERY! IT'S BLOOD SORCERY! A-AND YOU'RE JUST...PUNCHING AT IT?!" The Tremere was livid.
"Keep your voice down, you fool!" Grace snapped at the Tremere. "The Masquerade!"
"You're welcome." Hope said with a shrug to the Tremere, looking at the hole she'd just made in the floor. "Is that it?" Anthony approached first, looking over. "What in the. . .?"
"It's. . ." Anthony stared at the red light that eeked out from beneath the stone. "Well, I have no idea what that is."
"Takeittakeittakeittakeittakeit!"
"For fuck's sake! Fine! Just shut up!" Sybil reached down into the light and clasped her hand around something her fingers touched upon within.
"No, don't tou-" Anthony's warning came too late. Her fingers grasped something cold and metallic, and the light suddenly faded. All the Kindred in the basement were as still as the grave (pardon the term), but nothing seemed to follow. Seconds passed, then minutes. Finally, it was Sybil who spoke.
". . .seriously? All that crap for a key?" The Malkavian flipped over a small piece of metal that was no longer than her index finger. It looked to be made of brass, and it had symbols carved into it.
"Those. . .those are hermetic symbols." Anthony said. "Tremere symbols."
"Go nuts." Sybil said, tossing the key to him. So surprised was he that Anthony only managed to catch it by holding it against his body. "Finally gets that stupid voice out of my head."
Anthony stared at it. "That's. . .strange." He said, looking it over once he'd had a moment to recover and do so.
"What's strange?" Ben asked.
"Well, it's to do with Tremere thaumaturgy." Anthony said. "I can't explain it all to you, Tremere secrets and all -"
"Skip the pretentious crap, what is the bottom line?" Ben asked.
"I. . .don't know." Anthony said. "But someone took the time to carve the symbols into whatever metal this is made out of. That speaks to something. . .eclectic, let's say."
"Why is that?" Grace asked.
"Tremere like to make their symbols out of blood." Ben said. "It's invisible if you aren't looking for it."
". . .yes." Anthony added, hesitantly, cutting eyes at the Gangrel before addressing the others. "This one, though. . .I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?" Hope piped up. "I thought you Blood Witches were all about that hocus pocus crap?"
". . .I'm going to ignore that." The Tremere now cut eyes at the Brujah. "But yes the 'hocus pocus crap', as you put it, isn't known to be. Not this kind, anyway." He pulled out a cellphone from one of the pockets of his coat, flipping it open.
". . .are you enjoying your trip back to 2003?" Grace asked.
"Shut up." Anthony said, setting the key down on the concrete floor and snapping a picture of it with the camera phone and sending it. He typed out a message: Request identification of item.
The response came almost instantly, even Anthony was surprised by the speed at which it had come.
Destroy immediately. Item and phone. Now.
Anthony attempted to send another message: Please explain. However, the response did not arrive. The text didn't even get sent, the signal died. Almost immediately.
"What?" Ben asked.
"My contact said to destroy it." Anthony said, raising his hand and pulling a knife from one of his pockets, preparing to pour acidic vitae all over the item.
"Whoa! Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" Ben grabbed his wrist. "If we destroy it, then we have no idea why Corwin wants it!"
"But if we destroy it, then he has no reason to want this place anymore!" Sybil nearly shouted. A few moments passed, Ben looking between the Malkavian and the Tremere. Then, he looked back to Anthony and released his wrist.
"Do it." The Gangrel nodded.
Anthony sliced into his wrist, his vitae hissing and smoking as it fell from his veins. The moment the blood touched the key on the floor, it began to bubble and smoke. . .and all those immediately around it were suddenly thrown back with tremendous force. Anthony got the worst of it, being thrown back into the stone wall at the far end of the room, hitting it with a sickening crack as the weight of his body and the force of the impact slammed into it.
"Ugh. . .did anyone get the number of that truck?" Sybil recovered from hitting her head against the stairs, having been thrown back onto them. She'd taken the least amount of damage, though at least two of the steps had been snapped apart by her head striking them.
Ben had been tossed into some storage containers, the contents of which had been released throughout the room and were now clattering against any surface they hit. One such surface was the face of Grace, who had been thrown into the far corner and had (like Anthony) landed with a sickening smack against the concrete wall.
"Oh! My dress!" She groaned, not realizing she was bleeding from a gash across her forehead, losing even more of her precious vitae, when it dropped onto her lip, however, "Ah! No no!" She immediately shot up and started willing the blood she had to reknit her wounds.
"Uh. . .guys?" Hope had been chucked aside, but luckily had fallen the closest from the explosion and, interestingly enough, had recovered more quickly than anyone besides Ben. She was already gazing down at the new crater in the floor as the smoke started to clear. When she had everyone's attention, she pointed down. Anthony was the first to look over, glancing at the spot.
"There's. . .no way!"
The key laid there, the floor around it having been eaten away by the acidic vitae, completely unharmed. The metal did not so much as smolder, as if it had been entirely untouched.
" . . .I think this just became a great deal more complicated." Ben said.
"I think you're right." Anthony said.
"What is going on?!" Miss Erica Carl came down the steps, narrowly avoiding falling through one of the boards that had been cracked by Sybil's fall. Seeing the scene in the bastard, she cupped both her hands over her mouth. "Oh, my God!"
"Anthony, get the key." Grace said. She turned to Erica. "As for you, Miss Carl."
"Grace. . ." Ben said in a warning tone.
"She'll live." Grace said to the Gangrel before turning her attention back to Erica. "Miss Carl, we'll pay for any damages that have been done, don't worry. No one was harmed. . .and, oh, but come here." She beckoned with a finger. "There's something on your neck. . ." The Toreador moved behind the woman, brushing her hair to the side. The other Kindred watched with various degrees of disinterest or disgust as the Toreador popped out her fangs and took a long drink.
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