She gazed back into his eyes as he gazed into hers. The two were silent, as silent as their pulses, silent as their hearts. The only sound around them being the hum of the air conditioning unit, the bug zapper hanging on the gutter wrapping around the roof outside. Beneath them and atop them, the soft sheets.
"I..."
"...yes?"
"I dunno."
"... not really the response I was expecting after that."
"No, I mean... that was... that was great."
"But?" At Ben's word, Angel rose, the sheets draped around her for modesty's sake and little else, an arm holding them up as she sat on the mattress.
"I just... this is life, now."
"Such as it is, yeah." Ben said, moving to sit up himself to join her. "I'm sorry, I-"
"It's not your fault." Angel said. "You couldn't have known this would happen. It's not like you did it."
"No... no, I did not give you the Embrace and I never intended to."
"I just don't really see what you saw in our future for that."
"I... don't really have a good habit of thinking that far ahead." The Gangrel sighed.
"Getting that vibe."
"You know what I mean, Angel." He said. "I just thought... if I could keep you from all this, then maybe-"
"I know. You were trying to protect me." Angel said. "Hiding what you really were, doing what you did to Stephen Corwin. I get it. I just don't understand why you live like this."
"What's the alternative?" Ben asked. "Walking away from one of the only places our kind are safe? Walking into the sunrise?"
"Seems better than living like this." Angel said. "All these mad schemes and dangers. It's insane."
"That's the Jyhad for you."
"The what?"
"Sorry... it's... basically, think of a massive struggle between all sorts of really, really old Kindred." Ben said. "If you believe in that sort of thing, anyway."
"You mean like the... what was it, Methuselahs? A fight between them?"
"Basically, yeah. Again, if you believe in that sort of thing."
"Do you believe in that sort of thing?"
"I... used to." Ben said. "When I was in the Sabbat. We were trying to hunt them down, fight them and destroy them."
"Did you ever encounter one?"
"No." Ben said, shaking his head. "I don't know if any of them exist anymore. If they do, they're all in very deep hiding somewhere. Of course, the Camarilla would tell you that it's all crap, too. Maybe they're right."
"So, you just... survive night to night doing this?" Angel asked. "Operating at the whims of a bunch of people who have wheeled and dealed, lied, cheated, and stolen to get to the top?"
"What's the alternative?" The repeated question silenced the redhead for a moment before she answered.
"I don't know." She said quietly. "I just know that it's a terrible way to live..."
Surrounded on all sides by the mirror masked figures and one seemingly entranced Sybil, Grace and Hope found themselves back to back.
"Please tell me you don't actually have the key with you." Grace hissed at her.
"And what? Leave it in my apartment?" Hope asked.
"Are you kidding me?!" Grace nearly shouted at her. The Toreador pulled back a bit of her skirt, pulling out a pistol that had been strapped to her thigh by a holster. She clicked the safety off with an expert hand, angling it for a headshot at the nearest of the Glaziers. "We pass, you live to fight another night. Deal?"
"No deal, Grace Penderghast." The Glazier said, only his eyes visible beneath the reflective metal that covered his face. "This is not your fight, daughter of Helena's line. Leave and you shall be spared." Grace stopped at that, but did not lower her gun. "Leave..." Grace started to lower her gun.
"Okay, Red... this is not the time for listening to the gibbering lunatics..." Hope said tensely, her hands still raised in fists as she readied herself for a full on brawl. Grace, gun at her side, started to move forward as the Glazier stepped aside to allow her to pass. As she moved, Grace stopped suddenly and turned on the spot and angled her pistol at the man's head, pulling the trigger.
To her surprise, Grace had only blinked and found the barrel of the gun had been covered by a cupped hand. Rather than the spraying of blood and perhaps even a scream of pain that she had been expecting to see and hear, she instead found the Glazier standing as placidly as before, a bit of steam rising from the cupped hand. He moved his hand and dropped a single bullet, smoke still waffling from it. From the look of it, the man's hand hadn't gotten so much as a dent.
"So you have chosen death..." The Glazier Leader spoke.
"So you have chosen haymaker!" Hope, charging her fists with her own vitae, the strike smashing into the face of one of their assailants. The mirrored surface of their mask began to crack and shatter as they fell, Hope not pausing before moving onto the next one. "Hey, Space Cadet! We could use your help here!" She shouted over to the only non-masked and non-robed Malkavian. Sybil, to Grace's surprise, hadn't moved at all and was still standing with a finger pointed out to where the other two of her group had been standing only moments before.
"Kill them and take the key!" The Leader hissed as he advanced on Grace, who aimed the gun right between the man's eyes.
"Okay, let's try that again." Grace said and pulled the trigger. The man was knocked back by the force of the shot, his mask shattering from the point of impact as he fell back onto the pavement. A second Glazier leaped at her, and she managed to duck under his arms. Hope, meanwhile, was going to town on her attackers, putting her fisticuffs to use as if she were breaking up a brawl in Isaac's bar instead of fighting for their unlives. Grace was lining up another shot on her assailant when Sybil finally spoke up.
"Brother's here!" Sybil cried out, getting the attention of all parties.
"What the-?"
"Scatter!" Hope's words caused Grace to look to see a pair of headlights heading their way at astounding speed.
Okay! Ya ya ya ya ya!
Grace ducked out of the way as a sedan tore into the empty lot with the Offspring blaring at full volume out of the windows, the Glaziers likewise moving to avoid the sudden vehicular assault. At the wheel, poking his head out of the open driver's side window was none other than...
"Sammy! Good boy!" Sybil called, heading toward the vehicle. "C'mon, ladies. We've been here too long."
"How many vehicles are you going to leave in the middle of nowhere?" Grace asked, giving the Malkavian not in the car a pointed look. She quickly got up (trying to ignore the damage to her outfit) and headed for the car.
"Ladies! Tonight, please!" Samuel yelled, having a gun of his own that he was putting to use plugging the Glaziers within range, giving them a bit of a distraction. Hope kicked away another one, sliding in through the back passenger seat window to join Grace.
"Floor it!" She shouted, and Samuel did indeed put the pedal to the metal as the car tore off out of the empty lot and into the night.
"You are damn lucky I heard you!" Samuel yelled over the music to Sybil, who presently riding shotgun.
"You are damn lucky I was able to call!" Sybil said. "They were messing with my mojo in a big way!"
"Mojo? What mojo?" Grace asked. "And can you turn that music down?"
"It's the Offspring," Samuel said, matter-of-factly, "it's meant to be played loud."
"Uh, guys... we got company." Hope said, having turned to look back. Grace turned back, looking to see that a car was approaching them and very quickly at that.
"They hotwired your car?!" Grace gave a cry of exasperation.
"We can't head back to the lodge." Hope said.
"We weren't going to." Sybil said. "We need to go to Ox's bar."
"What?" Hope, Grace, and Samuel all expressed confusion, all for different reasons in that same instance.
"Okay, what's left of Ox's bar. Trust me." Sybil said.
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Grace asked. If Sybil was going to answer, she didn't after the first impact with the back of their car. The Glaziers had rolled down one of Sybil's window and one was trying to get out.
"Sam, you got something blunt in here? Sharp? Anything?" Hope asked.
"Yeah, got a tire iron in the floorboard somewhere. Why?" Samuel asked. The Brujah had already begun digging around through the junk in the back, her hands finally settling on the object in question.
"We're being boarded... time to beat them off." Hope unbuckled her safety belt and started to move through the open window.
"...the word is repelled!" Grace shouted.
"I said what I said!" Hope shouted back, pulling herself out of the car and onto the roof. One of the Glaziers had moved from the hood of Sybil's car to the trunk of Samuel's. "C'mon, you Magic Mirror-looking motherfucker!" Hope brandished the tire iron, taking a swing at the man, who pulled from his robes what looked to be a large hunting knife, meeting her strike with the flat of his blade before pushing back as the two now stood fully on Samuel's car as it tore down the highway.
"Primogen! It's the-"
"What is this interruption? Begone!" Nathaniel snapped at the Gangrel who had entered the chamber in which he and Anthony had been examining and were working on the Thaumaturgical rituals to bind the Maw.
"But Primogen Gray, the Sheriff is here!" Nathaniel stopped at those words.
"...I'll be right there." Nathaniel said. "Mr. Wallace?"
"Yes?" Anthony asked.
"Continue. Let nothing stop you. Bind that thing so we can destroy it."
"Of course." Nathaniel stepped outside to find Blackjack standing tall alongside his three Hounds. On his hand was a metal gauntlet and on his belt was... a very different sword than what he was used to seeing on the younger Gangrel.
"Sheriff Jacques." He said, knowing that this was not a social call by the look of the man and his entourage. "What can I do for you?"
"We've come for the girl. And for Grayson. The Prince wants them both." Blackjack's one eye stared at the Primogen.
"I have seen neither of the-" Nathaniel began.
"We know they are here. Grayson was brought to you." One of the Hounds spoke up. "Prince Blanchard wants the girl brought in whole. Grayson is optional."
"I see." Nathaniel said. "Well, Benjamin was here, but he has since left. You-"
"He's lying." One of the others stared at him.
"Primogen. Don't make this difficult." Blackjack said, his gauntleted hand coming to rest on the hilt of his new sword. "Where are they?" Nathaniel stared up at the Sheriff for a moment before gesturing to the right, toward the small building next to the lodge. The 'guest room' off of the main building. "One entrance. Surround the building. Stake it if it moves. The girl needs to be in one piece. Dust Grayson for all I care." The three Hounds grinned as they pulled out the wooden stakes from their coats, preparing for their struggle. As they moved to the sides, Blackjack moved to the front door and grabbed the handle, forcing it open suddenly as it swung into the room.
A small sitting area with two love seats flanking the door led to a raised platform where a large queen-sized bed had been left, Blackjack finding the sheets ruffled. Clear signs that someone had been here, if only a short time ago.
"They can't have gotten far." One of the hounds spoke up.
"Yes, but how did they leave?" Blackjack asked. He reached down with both hands, grasping the bedframe. With the preternatural strength of his vitae allowing him to wrench it upward and toss it aside at the wall. As it shattered, his eye settled upon a wooden door in the floor. "I should have guessed..."
"Jacques, you must-"
"Restrain the Primogen." Jacques said. "Phillips, you're with me." He looked back through the doorway, seeing his Hounds standing there with a nervous-looking Nathaniel. "You have stones in your ears? I said-"
"They heard you, Sheriff." A woman's voice emerged from behind the Kindred in the doorway. While Nathaniel turned to look at her, the Hounds did not. She was a brunette, lithe in figure and dressed in a leather top and pants. In her hand was a well-worn sickle, held loosely between her fingers. What got Blackjack's attention most, however, was the symbol that had been painted upon her forehead with vitae. Thaumaturgy, though unlike any such he had ever seen. "They just... don't listen, do they?"
"Who are you?" Nathaniel asked before Blackjack could, the Sheriff deciding to let the Primogen speak.
"My name is Astaroth." She said. "I'm afraid I need you alive, for now, Primogen... you have something of mine. A chalice."
"She's a Baali!" Blackjack called out. "Destroy her!" The Hounds were unmoving, even smirking at him as they watched him. "Have you taken leave of your senses?"
"Stake the Sheriff. He would look very good on the eastern wall of this lodge." Astaroth said, turning her attention to Nathaniel. As the Hounds advanced on Blackjack, she was focused entirely on the Primogen. "Now, Primogen... I believe you have a chalice to show me."
"I have nothing to show you, spawn of Ashur." Nathaniel said. "Leave this place or you shall burn like the ashes of your sires!"
"I was hoping you'd put up a fight!" Astaroth gave a feral grin and a scream of rage as she gripped her sickle more tightly, advancing on the Gangrel.
"Good evening, Anthony."
"...Robin." Anthony set the ritual book aside that he'd been using, having just marked the last of the symbols into place. Along with his fellow Tremere were several others he did not recognize. Likely other apprentices... or worse.
"You could have made this so easy." Robin said, shaking his head.
"Leave. Now." Anthony said.
"Or what? You'll kill me? Like you couldn't before?"
"I did a pretty good job staking you and serving you up on a platter for the Regent." Anthony said, a smirk on his lips.
"Oh, I recall." Robin said. "You won't be getting the chance again..." He raised his hand, Anthony able to tell the power of the vitae was channeling through him. Anthony quickly moved to stand between him and the chalice, raising his own hands to counter his opponent. It would have worked had it not been for the others also raising their hands to cast.
"Shit..."
No comments:
Post a Comment