[i:8e75b47708]She’d walked into my office just after ten. From the moment she walked in I knew she was mortal. She wasn’t human, well not quite. She was a ghoul. Judging by her heartbeat, she was new to the life. She knew what I was, knew that within a few steps I could end her life. But we both knew doing so would bring down the wrath of her Domitor. So I’d decided to listen to what she had to say, though having a mortal telling me what to do irritated me to no end. Not that her “security” made her any less nervous. Good, I didn’t want the Clans to see me as weak. I’d spent too much time and formed too many alliances to go back to being a pawn.

Turns out she was blood-slave to one of the Ventrue clan. A European who’d come to the city five years ago, attempting to expand his network. From what I’d seen, Oscar Raveloe was every bit the Ventrue snob. Though rumours among the clanless and the skulkers were that he was an accident, his Sire was tricked into creating him, and to save face he’d kept him. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed many of the luxuries the Ventrue did. But Mr. Raveloe took his lineage a little too seriously. Laughable really, if the rumours are true.

So I offered her a seat. Poured her a drink, thinking it might calm her nerves and listened.

Raveloe was looking for something. And my reputation, as always, preceded me.

“So. What do I call you?”

“My name is Elspeth Mr. True.”

“Please call me Sam.” I flashed her a smile. A subtle use of Auspex and Dominate would make my smile seem that little more inviting.

“Very well Mr. True. I mean, Sam. Now as I understand it, you are in the business of acquisitions?”

She was a professional. She at least had that in her favour.

“Acquisitions huh? Well yes, I have a knack for finding things, people, and bringing them back in one piece. Why?”

“My client...” Client? Jesus can’t they just say master like a good pup?

“...Mr. Raveloe wants to hire you. You see a certain something of his has been stolen, and well I’m sure you can understand he wants it returned forthwith. Like I said, I’m sure you can understand, this “item” is precious to him and he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.”

I leaned back in my chair, my hands folded across my lap, my feet just resting on the corner of my desk. Furrowing my brow just enough to look interested.

“Item? If you want me to find something, you’re going to have to be a little more specific.” I smiled again. She ignored it.

“I can do better than that. I have a picture taken recently.” She handed me a photograph, 6x4, colour. Taking it I studied the image before speaking again. Standing resolutely on a velvet covered stand stood a spiralling cone. It looked hollow, more like an elegant holder for something under the metal.

“So it’s what? An heirloom?” It was gold, or it looked it. But it didn’t look valuable enough to warrant this much interest.

“It is very precious to Mr. Raveloe, Mr. True.” She’d dropped the informalities. I touched a nerve.

“Yeah right. Okay, and do you have anything I can go on? Does Mr. Raveloe have any enemies that would want to steal an heirloom? Was anyone seen hanging around his apartment building?”

Elspeth looked agitated. “That is why we’re hiring you Mr. True. If we had any leads we would be handling things internally.”

“Sure thing. Okay, just one more thing...”

“How much is my fee?”

“$100,000 to set things in motion Mr. True. Another $100,000 upon delivery of the item.”

That much meant I was to keep my mouth shut. It also meant they were hiding something from me.

“Okay. Tell your client I’ll contact him when I have something.”

“No Mr. True. You will contact me. My client is not to be disturbed. Here is my card.”

She stood, smoothing out the creases in her suit as I took her card between two fingers. Gold inlay, embossed. Nice card.

“I expect to hear from you soon Mr. True. Goodnight.”

“Sure. Maybe over dinner?” I mocked her as she headed for the door. The hiss from her teeth were a [b:8e75b47708]big[/b:8e75b47708] no.

As she walked along the corridor I fingered her business card a little more. “Elspeth Conroy”. Hmmm. I let the door close itself before I walked out of my office and into my apartment. The night was still young. Lifting my coat I decided to take a walk.[/i:8e75b47708]

((WOOT. This brings to mind those old 1940s private Dick serials that they would play over the radio. Me wants more. ))

[i:c381f598f4]I had considered tailing Elspeth, but it would wait.

I decided to clear my head a little and in my humble opinion the best way to relax is to take in a show at Rosie’s. When I say show, I don’t mean theatre or any suchlike. Rosie’s was a bar, well a club really. The place attracted everyone for miles around. Kine, Kindred, the occasional Glasswalker. Even, if you looked hard enough, a Wraith or two.

The chalkboard outside said a live band was playing, not that that was uncommon. The name said Lament, or Anthem. Usual flowery Gothic stuff I expected. I pushed open the doors, my senses sweeping the room as I nodded at Rosie.

Rosie was Kindred. Toreador. Yet for one of her kind she was pretty easy going, and even easier on the eyes. She had the hourglass figure, the eyes that could cripple you with a glare just as quickly as enamour you to the point of obsession. Her bobbed, black hair would bounce as she worked the bar. She returned my smiles as I pulled up a barstool.

“Good evening Sam. Usual?” I nodded, folding my coat on the bar next to me.

“Sure Rosie. Busy night again I see. What’s the band tonight?”

She handed me a glass. Scotch, water. Glenfiddich had been my “poison” in life. Being so young I had yet to forget the habit.

“They’re called Lamenth. Pretty good from what I heard. Place is crawling with Goths though. Wait a sec, I’ll be on a break soon. We can talk then.” She smiled, her glittering green eyes brightening as she joked with her Presence. I couldn’t help but notice however, that her [b:c381f598f4]gifts[/b:c381f598f4] now attracted other eyes. Turning with my drink and coat I saw them watching from their vantage points. A few men, even a few women, sat or stood admiring the classic looks of the club owner. Grinning I took a table out of the light and waited for the band to come on.

The band were certainly a motley crew. They all looked waif-like under the harsh spotlights. A young Asian boy, holding a guitar came out first, plucking his strings as he warmed up. As he entered a series of melodies the rest appeared. The lead singer, a young girl, stepped out swaying dreamily to the choral sighs of the guitarist. The bassist standing by her side was a sudden and stark contrast among the others. Bull-necked, she stood like an ebon goliath, her shaven head gleaming with sweat. As they started harmonising the drummer piped up, giving the proceedings a backbone. I flinched as the initial crash of discord sailed out. Soon smiling again as the girl singing became bathed in yellow light. Her pouting lips giving her a sultry, breathless voice as she sang about love’s indiscretions, of faerie dust and hopeful rust.

I found myself enjoying the songs, wanting to hear more as each song ended. I barely noticed Rosie sit next to me as the guitarist took centre-stage.

“Told you they were good.” Her voice caught me off guard, spinning my head I smiled.

“Yes, yes you did. Strange that I’ve never heard of them. The crowd approve that’s for sure.

The club was packed. The majority now swaying in front of the band, captured by the hooks and riffs. Mesmerised by the words, now sung by the Asian kid. They could so easily be Toreador-to-be.

Rosie poured another glass, one for herself, one for me. The bottle was nothing you’d see stocked. Blue glass, embossed with silver filigree. Her own personal supply of blood-laced Scotch. I toasted her before sipping from my glass, the harshness of the whisky offset by the copper of blood. The kid singing entered the last chorus of his song, straining I decided to actually listen...



“wasn't so.
"too quick for you"
was the phrase you used,
guess you were right.
Too slow witted for my heart to move...”


The crowd exploded as he drifted to silence.

“So. You working or just looking to relax a bit, Sam?”

“Both. Got something on, just needed to unwind a little. Figured you could help me out.”

Rosie nodded, an invisible gesture separated the crowds as the band had an intermission. Downing my glass I poured another.

“I’d hoped Erin would be around. You seen her tonight?”[/i:c381f598f4]

The band left the stage, their throats dry and parched from their singing and the warm conditions in the club.

" not too bad are they?" Dean whispered to her as he eyed up a young girl in a short red mini dress, his eyes seeming to undress her as she stood talking to her friends.

Erin grinned and her white teeth flashed in the dimlight.
"do you mean the girls or the band Dean" she retorted happily as she made her way to the bar, pushing her way through the throng of young
goths.

Dean watched her as she walked , although small and petite looking he had felt the strength that seemed to lay coiled tightly inside her, waiting until it became too tightly strung , he had seen that many a time and had even felt her wrath himself. If there was one thing he could change about his friend, it would be her temper.

Erin leant on the bar and absentmindley twirled her black hair in her fingers, impatiently tapping her nails on the counter as she waited to be served.

"oh for fucks sake" she muttered as the barman seemed to take forever to serve everyone.
"Rosie should get staff who know what their doing"

She pushed herself off the bar and walked determindly over to the other bar that seemed quieter.

"what will it be tonight Erin?" Tom regarded her warily, never knowing whether she would be civil or spit out a violent retort.

A smile broke out on her face as she eyed the head barman up, he visibly relaxed and returned the smile.

"I thought you would never ask Tom, a bottle of Bud please.....cold...real cold"

[i:67fb523262]What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and up he comes? Well Erin never was one to disappoint. Rosie grinned as I finished my question, tipping her glass towards the bar. I turned slowly, blocking out the increasing scents, sights and sounds as the crowd became a rabble again, growing impatient with the band.

Erin hunched at the bar. She was pretty, she could even be beautiful if she didn’t hide under the Gothic make-up and the permanent sneer. Her raven-black hair hung, shimmering under the bar lights, ribbons of dark, scarab blue running through the length. She gulped from the Bud, taking in raking, false gasps between mouthfuls. It detracted from her looks even more. But then I wasn’t looking for a date with her. I kissed Rosie’s cheek.

“Be right back Rosie. Don’t go away.”

I knew Rosie would wait. We’d grown pretty close in the last few years, of course she had to tell her peers I was Ventrue. Couldn’t sully her name by seeing a Caitiff, not even casually. I didn’t mind. When you’re brought in at the bottom you learn to steel yourself against the insults. And the beatings only seemed to strengthen me.

I nodded at the barman, the expression telling him to match my drink with Erin’s.

“Hey there Butterfly!” I spoke softly, leaning towards her.

Had anyone else called her that they’d spend the next few hours on the floor or worse. Luckily Erin took it on the chin when I was around.

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a b...”

“Bullet?” I grinned as she turned to face me.

“How’re things Erin? You’re looking surly as always.”

“Oh can’t complain Sam, can’t complain. I see you’re still dating that dilettante Torrie. When you going to find yourself a real woman Sam, huh?”

She had never liked Rosie. Though I could never understand why. A woman thing I guessed.

“That an offer Erin? You think you’re woman enough for a tough guy like me?” She knew it was a joke. Just as I knew she could punch me across the bar before I could blink. She wouldn’t though.

“In your dreams Sam. In your dreams. So what’s the deal? You on a job?”

“Sorta. Had hoped you’d be around tonight. Could use the muscle in case things get rough. You game?”

“Rough huh? Oh Sam, you know I like it rough.” She curled her tongue mockingly. I just smiled, Rosie was on my mind big-time.

“Yeah Erin I know. Ok here’s the deal. Ventrue is looking for something, he’s paying top dollar for me to find it. But my nose tells me there’s trouble nearby. I might need to call for back-up. 30k sound fair?”

Her eyes lit up. “30k huh? Must be something nasty if you’re [b:67fb523262]that[/b:67fb523262] worried about it. Sure Sam, just give me a time and a place. I’ve got your back.”

I tapped my bottle against hers, I was hardly going to risk a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks Erin. You take care now ok? I’ll see you around.” The slap on my back as I turned almost floored me. Her harsh laughter made me laugh rather than lash out.

“Yeah you too Sam. Watch out for that step.” She smiled uncharacteristically warmly. It looked good.

“It suits you Erin.” I smiled back, patting down my shirt.

“What does?”

“The smile.”

“Yeah bite me.” She replied sardonically.

“Maybe next time.” I replied, swigging another mouthful of the crude beer.

Rosie was waiting patiently. Erin was fun, she was solid. But tonight I was looking for something a little smoother.[/i:67fb523262]

Mr. Croup walked out of the shop in his new suit. He managed to hide his discomfort in his new apparel; this was his first major change in over 500 years. For the first time, he wore pants that came down to his shoes, which were tied with laces. He wore a black shirt with tight cuffs around the wrist, not the frills he had grown used to. Around his neck, a black tie with diagonal maroon pin-stripe lines sat on a solid crimson shirt. He wore a blazer without tails, also an oddity, and a long, black leather overcoat which went down just below his knees.
In his hand was a well polished sterling owl, mounted atop a fine oak cane. Mr. Croup twisted the owl and pulled, taking a quick look at the shiny blade hidden in the wood. The blade glinted in the red and green of flashing signs, flickering millions of reasons to buy. He stopped in front of the shop to look at his reflection in the window. He admired himself. He looked quite professional.
The City, thought Mr. Croup, was a most excellent place.

He continued down the street, peering into shops; the displays in the windows were quite an improvement on the vast ocean of sand he had been living in for the past year. He made his way past a few restaurants and bars, most of which were closed at this hour, until he finally found one that was opened. He grinned as he saw his reflection on the glass door before stepping inside.

((Unfinished... but I have to leave work now, I'll finish when I get home, in an hour or so...

She watched as he walked away from her, and smiled knowingly as she saw who he was heading towards, Rosie, the owner of the club, not one of Erin's favourite clans, but then again everyone to their own taste.

"where you been baby" Dean wrapped his arms around her slim waist and kissed her neck softly, his senses assailed by the smell of the patchouli oil that she wore.

"business, and a drink...of course" she said as she kissed him back her teeth brushing his skin making him shudder.

he wrapped is arms around her feeling the swell of her breasts as he pulled her close.

"back off Dean " she muttered.

As Mr. Croup entered the bar, he immediately sensed a kindred presence. Turning to the bar, he saw a woman, Brujah, in someone's arms.
There were two other kindred auras, coming from one being. Caitiff, thought Mr. Croup, and... something. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He shrugged it off and made his way through the crowd of goth youths to an empty seat at the bar.
The bar tender walked back and forth hurriedly, serving other patrons.
Come to me, now thought Mr. Croup, and give me whatever they are drinking. He motioned with his head to the two kindred, standing a few feet away. The bartender stopped and shook his head. He pulled out a flask and filled a glass, bringing it to Mr. Croup.
"Thank-you," grinned Mr. Croup.
The bartender nodded, confusedly, before returning to the other patrons.
So this is the kin with two auras, he thought, a bit young it would seem, for me to be watching...

"I was only messing Erin ...you know that dont you?" Dean realeased her and looked at her warily, he could at times swear that when she was angry, tiny flecks of crimson seemed to run through her eyes.

"I was going to ask you if you had any stuff on you, me and the little lady are going to go out back and have a little chilling time, if you catch my drift"

Erin slung her bag off her back and reached into it and pulled out a tiny sealed packet.

"there you go Dean, go beat yourself up on it"

His eyes lit up as Erin watched someone walk into the bar, her eyes narrowing.

"is it the stuff we share? the good stuff?" he asked knowing that if he ever took anything with her it seemed to give him a big buzz.

Erin grinned slyly as she shook her head, he still didnt realise that he got that buzz as he called it because she fed off him while he was out of it.

"nope thats for my own use, strictly the good stuff, now fuck off and leave me alone"

Dean walked away back to the main dance area while Erin perched herself on a bar stool and watched.

[i:1e6b66e887]Rosie led me from the table. Her intent would be clear even to a blind man I grinned. She waved at Erin before we disappeared behind the bar. I’m sure I felt someone watching me, and it wasn’t Erin. Tom clicked his fingers bringing the other bartenders to attention. He pointed and gesticulated his desires and they went running.

Rosie turned in the stairwell and pulled me close. Even through my shirt I felt the hardness jut out from under her blouse. The hardness spread to other areas and other actions as she kissed me, hard.

“Mmmm you taste good tonight Sammy. You been eating behind my back?” She purred seductively. Were she using Presence I would have nailed her on the staircase itself. She turned her back on me breaking our kiss and ground her buttocks against me. I let a soft growl escape my lips, then pushed her upwards. Both hands cupping her as she wriggled forward.

“Not yet Rosie. But I plan to before dawn.” She giggled then suddenly hopped up the last few steps, disappearing into her room. The shutters were open, letting a cool finger of air into the candlelit, scented chambers.

“Candles, incense? Were you expecting someone Rosie?” I feigned surprise.

“Only my Sammy.” She cooed before rolling over her bed, the plush satin sheets wrinkling under her movement.

“Ain’t that the truth.” I stepped towards her, leaning over her. Surrounding her with my arms.

I felt the hunger then, rising to the surface like a forgotten titan. She rose to meet my lips, biting on them softly as she weakened my arms until I lowered onto her. As we kissed, our fingers snaked between our bodies, unbuckling, untying and pulling until we lay together, blissfully naked.

I smiled at her before I began to trace my tongue down her neck, over her breasts, circling her navel. Following the curve of her perfect thigh, following the line of perfume to her hidden places. Baring my fangs before I bit slowly, gently. Prolonging the pressured, sharp ecstasy. She parted her legs further as I drew circles on her skin, blood lines leaving trails where I’d been.

Her moans intensified, gripping my hair as she held me in place. Her body aching with need as I satisfied my own.[/i:1e6b66e887]

Mr. Croup stood over the foot of the bed, watching them, completely hidden in Quietus. He had been practicing this discipline for over half of a millenium, and had perfected this cloaking.
There was no interest in what they were doing whatsoever. He watched them coldly. For what they're paying me he thought, I can't take my eyes off of him no matter what.

***

Hours later, he still stood there, watching, waiting patiently. Blood Staminathought Mr. Croup.This could be a while...

((lmfao!!! oh dear I nearly choked on my toast ...oh dear lol

((*says nothing* ;)

((That is sure as hell NOT a scene from one of those 40's Private...Dick....shows...

*reserved*