Pulsing with light and life the city outside the window seemed at once immediate and distant, the height of the building and the raw energy of the streets conspiring to create this dichotomy. Inside the room little other than the quiet hum of air conditioning units broke the silence that reigned. The decor, a mixture of the splendour of ages long past and the technology of the present, contrasted well with the figures seated around the table. Most were dressed in the manner of businessmen and women, but some affectations, small and large, were pointers to different times.
"It's quite simple - he's too dangerous, like all his Clan. They simply cannot be trusted to do as expected." Gracious voice hardened slightly, the woman's tones were still more enchanting than any mortal's, even without the use of any supernatural enhancement.
Looking uncomfortable, but still putting himself forth, the heavy featured man halfway down the table raised a point of conjecture. "I'm sorry, but I think that it's exactly because we can trust him to do as expected that is the problem. He has absolutely no head for politics or giving the slightest bit of ground on matters where the truth, as he sees it, is apparent. Quite simply, he takes his duty more seriously than we'd expected, despite his frequent lack of presence in the city."
"Yes," came the modulated tones of the man to the speaker's right, eyes, as ever, slightly hooded. "I believe that my esteemed colleague has the right of it. Though the man is powerful and must surely be kept leashed lest he cause unknown amounts of trouble, I'm afraid that the bindings may have trapped us more so than he."
"He is an excellent keeper of the peace, though, isn't he? Too bad that the Nosferatu are still absent from the city, they used to be able to keep him centred to the actualities of life a little, rather than following the letter of the regulations so... remorselessly."
"I believe that this may indeed have been a large catalyst in producing his present over effusiveness. The destruction of the warrens and subsequent passing of all Nosferatu hit him quite hard. Apparently he spent some of his early years - Caine knows how far back they are - living with the creatures. Something to do with his Sire's habits.." the speaker's words faded away as he realised his speculations had little bearing on the matters at hand.
Nodding shortly at this prudent action, the woman at the table head turned her gaze over the remainder of group as she spoke again. "Steps have been taken. A number of individuals of the correct capability have been contacted in areas the subject is known to frequent and supplied with all necessary information that we have. The traps have been laid, we will simply have to sit back and watch the fireworks."
"I don't like this," growled a rangy man at the far end, bushy eyebrows brought down over the angry gleam in his eyes. "To remove him for doing his job properly would cause too much embarassment, so you're going to kill him? Shit. Politics." Fingernails scraped into the fine polish of the mahogany table top.
"You will go along with this. You and the others here who were overruled at the vote." Their leader enunciated each word precisely, the power of her voice palpable in the sudden hush of the room and her stare unsettling as she looked at each of those mentioned in turn. "He's too close to finding the truth. Handel must die."
"Pull up here." The Sergeant indicated a cul-de-sac on the right. It was at least 250 metres from their destination, and Only commented on this.
"What are you, lazy or stupid?" Motioning brusquely to allay any replies, the big man explained. "We can't just pull up outside and wander straight on in. If they managed to grab Ballard they'll be fairly capable, and only the worst sort of morons wouldn't be prepared to deal with a frontal attack." Casting a steely gaze upon the younger vampire he sized him up. "You can move quietly and unseen, can't you? Best to go with your strengths."
Hidden from most eyes, the two approached the rear of the house in what Only figured was a fairly professional manner. Taking his cues from his obviously highly experienced partner he moved quickly from tree to swing set to garden shed and so on. They made no sound as they passed lightly over the side lawn and along below the windows to the glass and aluminium door. Inside could be seen a small white walled room; washer dryer setup, the faint smell of dirty clothes and fragrant powder indicating it was the laundry.
"Security?" Only had seen the telltale motion detectors on the rear walls and expected the same inside. He hadn't yet figured out why the exterior lights hadn't flicked on in response to their presence. Deep shadows lay heavy over each of the devices as necessary, lessening their intensity to the natural once their jobs were done.
Sergeant Williams smiled wryly. "Taken care of," he whispered softly as the door opened beneath his touch. Concentration flickered on his brow as the air from within mixed with that from the backyard, and he raised his head slightly, inhaling through his nose. "Someone... several people have been here, but not recently. There's been a great deal of activity. Hmm." He sniffed the air again. "Can you see images of the past, boy?"
Ignoring the 'boy' comment, Only shook his head. "I haven't the knack yet, but I'm working on it."
"Doesn't matter, they've undoubtedly cut off access to the visual. It's his primary means of perception. That and the aural, I'm sure. Wooly thinking," muttered the large man to no one in particular. He looked down at Only, eyes glowing red again and canines showing freely. "You're going to have to go in by yourself. I'll organise the exiting arrangements. Find the Gangrel and get him ready to move. You'll know what to do when the time is right. If you don't," he shrugged, coat rippling with hints of violence despite the apparently uncaring nature of the action," you'll die."
Mikaela put her foot on the first step, intending to follow Handel to the next storey. Even that small distance closer intensified the earthy odour they had both been smelling since entering the mansion. Her enhanced senses almost causing her to reel as if under attack, the beautiful woman paused, steadying herself against the banister. The brief moment's inactivity saved her from the majority of the onslaught that followed, as white fire exploded from above. Heat upon heat, preceding rivulets of molten incandescence, swept down the stairs. In animalistic panic she turned and ran for the door, ripping wildly at the door handle. A fat spark of blue light shot from the metal to her hand and threw her back across the now smouldering carpet. About to scream her passion aloud, she choked as an overwhelming sense of presence came to her, jerking her head around to the top of the stairs despite the blazing light there.
Standing on the landing, amidst the searing flames, was a creature made of conflicting energies. Unnatural blue and white fire battled against each other even as a more natural orange consumed the form. Even at this distance she could make out the intensity of the eyes that looked down at her, bright as any other source within the conflagration.
"Run," the apparition commanded, gesturing with an arm that seemed half consumed already.
Unable to resist she did just that, encountering a momentary discomfort and then the blessed cold of the outside world. Before she had a chance to orientate herself a sharp pain appeared in her leg and she found herself stumbling to the tarmac of the road beneath her. Mind still a chaos of action and reactions it was hard to focus on the face of the man who grabbed her by the hair to stare at her perfect features even while mental fingers raked across her recent memories. Fire burst through her veins in a flash of agony. Let fall on to the grass verge, whether by design or accident, her body took the chance to rest itself and heal what it could. Supine, the voices came to her as an anchor in the swiftly changing world.
"It's just the woman. He hasn't got out yet, we would have registered it. Do it now."
"Sure." A quick chuckle then a clicking noise.
Even through closed eyelids the light of the explosion caused Mikaela to turn her head away. Deafened, she covered her head with her hands, glad of the ancient tree beside her, only just hanging on to consciousness. When she could force herself to rise and survey the scene she saw a piece of hell where the mansion had been. Some fires still burned in the further reaches of the property, but the centre was a crater from which waves of visible heat rose into the smoke filled sky.
True to Williams' word, the security system was down. Only moved quickly and silently through the large house, searching each room professionally. There were only so many places that a body could be hidden. It never occurred to him that they had the wrong place. Finally he discovered the bound form of Ballard in a closet of the main bedroom, his chest pierced with a length of wood.
"Wha?" The Gangrel looked blearily up as the stake clattered to the floor. "Only? But how..."
A huge claw broke through the roof, scattering plaster and ceiling boards everywhere. Shocked, Only saw the still bound form of Ballard whipped up into the ceiling space. A tingle at the base of his skull made him act without thought, bunching his legs and leaping after the disappearing vampire. Not enough. He was young and weak and about to die, he realised, as the sigils on the huge bay windows flared and filled the room with light... sunlight. The height was too great for him. "Well FUCK!" Chuckling at his last words of existence he was grasped by the collar and dragged into an all encompassing darkness.
"Shut up and hold on," came the voice of Sergeant Williams. "We're not out of the woods yet. It wasn't keyed enough to him. Either you or I set it off..."
Still blind, Only felt a huge acceleration, then pain and a massive concussion as they hit something solid and broke through. Any sense of reality left him as he felt a flying sensation, still held roughly by arms stronger than steel girders. Contact with the ground robbed him of the remaining lucidity available to him and he passed out.
Blood coursed down his throat - thick, fresh and strengthening. Aches and pains fled as his body rewove itself, consciousness slowly becoming a concept that didn't sound like such a ridiculous idea.
"Wake up, you wimp!" The voice was harsh and used to command. Only found himself obeying more from annoyance than anything else. One eye cracked open to recognise the inside of his car, hanging monkey static against the window. Back seat, then. Glowering at him from the front was Williams, although a humorous smile flickered across the lips of the man as he saw the movement. Of the source of the blood there was no sign.
"Get up here and drive," said the officious Sergeant. "The firemen will be along soon, and the rest with them."
Only moved over between the seats and settled himself in his accustomed position. A number of questions sprang to mind as he started the engine, but the Sergeant was well ahead of him.
"He's in the boot. No, I don't drive well in cities, especially this one. And yes, it was a trap. Now, can we go?"
Further down the street a number of buildings were already well beyond the capacity of emergency services to deal with. Life went on.
At the side of a crater a sword sat. Untouched by the heat around it the traceries on the blade glinted light reflected from the multitude of sources nearby. Beside it, around it, a pile of ash shifted in the heat. Droplets of metal, silver and simple low grade muck, splattered throughout the other detritus. A low hum came from the sabre, but there were no ears to hear it.
Flattened grass beyond the iron fence paid silent testimony to the former presence of a body lying beside the trees out the front of the blast zone. Mikaela had, understandingly, left for less dangerous parts of the city. Lifted by the hot breeze, a strand of misplaced hair quietly wandered into the branches above.
In the catacombs of Venice an angel raised its eyes to the cross on the wall and thought suddenly of a son not seen in centuries. Touching his cheek, he lifted the bloody tear there to his lips in silent benediction.
Candles and cards spread again, the androgyne figure stiffened and shut its eyes, form flickering into a less stylised representation. Beneath his hand a figure continued its eternal fall from a tower smote with fires and lightnings, beard aflame, eyes azure lamps. The man looked down and laid his free hand on the comfortingly warm head of his companion.
Bottles burst in a store room beneath a certain public house in London, the attic of a particular brasserie in Paris, on the shelves of a number of haunts the world over. Drinkers would later say that a chill wind swept through them and sobriety struck with a vengeance in that moment.
"I feel weird," said Only, shrugging his shoulders, annoyed with himself. He looked over at Sergeant Williams and wished he hadn't. Unlike before, there was no sign of the animal, the beast raging towards the surface, just a man. No, not a man, a vampire. The real thing. Indomitable and far beyond anything the boy could hope to comprehend. Yet.
"You idiot," growled the primal figure. "Too late. You bloody idiot."
Down by the water a security man at Westhaven marina was calling in the sudden appearance of an ocean going yacht, tied up to one of the fingers as if it had always belonged there. The nagging feeling that he'd missed seeing it before made him anxious to report in. Water lapping gently against the side of her hull in the protected waters, the 'Caroline' gave the impression of a ghost ship. As if her soul were gone.
Blonde hair tied into a strict bun only enhancing the sublime quality of her features Tessa looked up from the telephone and smiled at her secretary.
"Good news?"
"Yes. It's back to business as usual."
"Should I notify the Primogen?"
The Prince of Auckland tapped one perfect finger against her exquisite chin. "They'll find out for themselves soon enough, I think."
