Anthony crept up to the apartment block, finding the door he and Marion had cowered from only a short time ago. It was...suspiciously vacant, although the young Tremere knew that this meant very little. The Lasombra were skilled manipulators of the shadows and the powers of Oblivion. It was a skill the Covenant would very much like to get their hands on, Anthony knew only too well. Blending Thaumaturgical rituals with the power of the realms beyond the living...the prospect was more than a little intriguing.
Alas, this was not the point of his focus tonight. With the key that Marion had given him, he began to unlock the door. Anthony's ears caught the audible click as the lock came undone - whatever the perpetrator had done, they had left the door locked...or had never needed to open it to begin with. His eyes peeled, he slowly moved into what had once been Marion's haven. Immediately, he was struck by something strange...nothing seemed to have been moved. At all. The foyer he'd stepped into had a layer of dust resting on the ground. Not so egregious, but just enough to be noticeable, more so because of the footprints that clearly marked a man walking into and then out of the room where Anthony had just entered.
"What the-?" He looked at the spot right before him, where a potted plant sat right at the foot of the stairs. Within the pot, in some neatly tilled soil, was a plant with a small tree trunk and several branches that were dangling from it, with white leaves growing from it. Admittedly, botany was not his area of expertise. Pulling out his phone, he snapped a picture and sent it to Marion. The flash of his camera phone brought his attention to the glossy lettering printed on a business card. Pulling it from within the foliage, he read it.
Marion, my love. Please come and see me.
The Church of the Yawning Void
The address was printed just below that. It was just as he read it that his phone buzzed, a text having come in from Marion.
Just the flowers? Nothing else.
There was a card.
. . .
. . .
Let me see it.
Anthony snapped a picture of the card, sending it to her. A few moments passed, the three dots that indicated her typing something flashed three or four times before they stopped. Then, her message came through.
Is anything disturbed?
No.
Good. Then we have a ward to get up. Will be there momentarily.
"Get her out! Get her out now! Right now! You've waited too long!" Oliviera barked angrily at the man on the ladder, who was quickly reaching into the tank to fish the young woman out. He pulled her into his arms, working his way down the ladder. "You damned fool! Lay her down! Now!" The Lasombra dug a nail into his wrist until he had broken the skin, the smell of his vitae hitting the air before he pressed said wrist to the seemingly dead woman's mouth.
A few moments later, she shot upward, coughing as she attempted to clear her lungs, water dripping from her mouth rather than vitae. A brand new ghoul had been born.
"There you are! There you are, dear Sister!" Oliviera had knelt down by this point, comforting the woman as she recovered from her literal drowning. His arm around her, patting her back gently as she got the rest of the water from her lungs. "Brother, take her to a cell for the night. I think she has more than earned a rest." The other man nodded, helping the young woman to her feet and leading her away. "No more baptisms today, Sisters. Perhaps tomorrow night."
The other two women were disappointed by the look for things, but merely nodded and left to follow the man in question. When the door closed behind them, Ben finally spoke.
"So, you realize this entire place is a gigantic Masquerade breach?" He asked.
"I had pegged you both for Kindred...I'm glad my senses have not failed me in my old age." Oliviera said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket.
"You drowned that woman!" Sybil protested, her hand finally sliding off of the grip of her pistol.
"And yet, she lives on." Oliviera replied. "Emptied out of all that had been an Earthly burden to her."
"So that's what Emptiness is." Ben said. "Turning them into ghouls."
"It serves its purpose." Oliviera said. "Our Blood serves our will, provided we bend it to that will."
"What's your interest in Marion Croft?" Ben asked.
". . .ah. Some of her minions. Not fit to come see me herself, I see." Oliviera said, clicking his tongue. "How disappointing."
"Do we look like minions to you?" Sybil asked.
"She is my love, though she resists me." Oliviera seemed to ignore the Malkavian. "One night, I shall bring her into the Void."
"Yeah, I really don't give a crap." Ben said. "We're doing her a favor. She wants you dealt with."
"'Dealt with?'" Oliviera smirked. "Dealt with indeed! What games she plays...and who are you, then? Who will...deal...with me?"
"Some people call me the space cowboy. Some call me the gangster of love. Some people call me Maurice, for I speak of the-" Sybil started.
"I don't see how that's important." Ben said, arms crossed over his chest, interrupting Sybil's ranting.
"Well, she's Detective Sybil Langtry if that badge she has clipped to her belt is any indication," Oliviera said. "And if that's the case, then you must be...Ben Grayson."
"And if I am?" Ben asked.
"I suppose it doesn't matter. A pity, really...someone with the talents the two of you would be such powerful acolytes..." Oliviera gave a tut. "But, I suppose I'll have to dispatch you both now..."
"I wouldn't try it, buddy." Sybil's hand was once more on the grip of her gun.
"You'll be meeting the Final Death before you pull the hammer back, senorita..." Oliviera's eyes turned on Sybil for the first time since they'd left the chapel.
"I'm hoping to solve this without a fight." Ben said. "I'm not looking to get a Blood Hunt called on anyone's head if we can avoid it."
"I'm listening." Oliviera said.
"You violated a Kindred's domain in the city without due cause or permission from the Prince." Ben said. "We caught you. You leave Marion alone, we forget we saw it. You don't end up staked to the east side of a building waiting for the sunrise."
"Hmm...you make a very persuasive argument." Oliviera said, touching a finger to his chin. "And I am a newcomer in town...making waves as such would be...ill-advised."
"It would." Ben said.
"On the other hand...I could turn you both into piles of ash and never have to worry about anyone finding out about that." The Lasombra raised a hand. His shadow began to distort along the floor, as if it were twisting and contorting toward them.
"Thank you for seeing me."
"You have five minutes."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm displeased with you, Fabian. You've been rather rude."
"I...what?"
"You said you had a negotiation you wished to put before me. Do it." Grace had her arms folded across her chest, staring at the Ventrue.
"If I am correct in my assumptions, Mr. Corwin entrusted you with information concerning an urn, did he not?" Fabian asked.
"Perhaps." Grace said.
"I require that urn." Fabian said.
"Why?" Grace asked. "If such an urn even exists and I have any knowledge of it?"
"It is an heirloom. One passed down through my bloodline." Fabian said. "From my sire's sire and his sire before him and so on. Perhaps even back to Ventrue himself."
"And it does...what, exactly?" Grace asked, a brow quirked at him. "You don't seem someone given to flights of fancy."
"I'm not." Fabian said. "I just want the urn, and I'm willing to pay."
"What?"
"Major boon and ten pints of vitae. No questions asked."
"You're serious?"
"Deadly." Grace was surprised at his words.
"Alright. I am supposed to be meeting a ghoul-"
"Marquis."
"Yes. He is to accompany me to the place that it is kept."
"Excellent." Fabian said. "I will accompany you as well. We can go tonight."
"Tonight?" Grace stared.
"Do you have an objection?" Fabian asked.
". . .I suppose not." Grace said, rising from her chair. "Mortimer, have Martin bring the car around. Bring me my evening wear."
"At once, Mistress." Mortimer nodded, turning and leaving the room. Grace looked to Fabian.
"It isn't becoming of a gentleman to watch a lady undress." She said pointedly, the Ventrue giving her a strange look before respectfully withdrawing from the room as well.
Marion chanted the final part of the incantation, the air in the doorway shimmering as the ward was once more set, the symbol drawn on the door building away...leaving no sign that it had ever been there at all.
"How do you know he won't break through like last time?" Anthony asked her, closing the book that he'd been chanting from, assisting in the restoration of the ward.
"I don't." Marion said. "But I will be aware if he tries it again." The older Tremere then turned her attention to the potted plant. "Now to dispose of this."
"What is-?"
"White acacia. It's his...flower...for me." Marion said with disgust, pulling out a matchbox from one of her pockets, pulling out a single match and striking it. When it lit, she pressed it to the leaves...and they began to burn. Anthony turned away, feeling the instinctive drive to avoid fire that all Kindred shared. Small as it was, it still worried him.
Marion held no such worry, staring directly at the flames in question.
"I'm surprised at you, Anthony." Marion said finally, looking to the apprentice.
"How so?" He asked.
"You had unrestricted access to my haven, and yet nothing here has been disturbed." Marion said. "You wasted a golden opportunity to learn my secrets."
"Why?" Anthony asked. "Ruin the experience for myself?" Marion gave him a strange look, but said no more. "We should get after Ben and Sybil. They went to the church."
"They did what?" Marion asked. If she'd been breathing and of a complexion that wasn't corpse pale, Anthony could have sworn she'd have gone paler than that.
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