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Bump in the Night
Bump in the Night
Part I: The Old Man
The skyline of Prague had changed little in 500 years. As he sat there on the roof of one of the many cathedrals’ towers the irony struck him and forced a deep chuckle.
“I see you are not completely devoid of humor, my friend.” The voice was one he was used to, one of an old friend. His only friend.
“I allow myself a humorous reflection once in a great while Old Man,” the derogatory held no venom, in fact it radiated about as much affection as creatures of such age were capable. The city stretched out before him and the memories were as crystal clear as ever. He wondered if the mortals remembered things differently than him. If weeks for the short-lived humans were as decades for him and, decades as centuries. They were a curious lot, fiery. But with such brief existences and their eminent decay constantly plaguing them, he thought he understood why.
“I need a favor…,” the voice was almost deferent but still held an edge of authority that was simply impossible to banish entirely. He recognized his tone though, had heard it hundreds, maybe thousands of times before now and would again for time immemorial. It was not going to be an order, it never was.
“I would have thought that by now we would have evolved beyond favors. I owe you a debt that is beyond my ability to pay. Only say what you need and it is done.” His voice was deferent and with anyone else this would rankle but here it was the most natural thing. He had never known servitude. He had, in fact, spilled the blood of countless Kindred to avoid it and to free his brethren from it. The Old Man is the only creature in all the night for which he would consider it.
“I know old friend, even though I have never considered myself your creditor.. And even if I had, I would have counted that balance paid and repaid many times over for your many works. You are the one who will not let this ‘debt’ come to rest, I think. At any rate, I need you to go to Los Angeles. There are things brewing there I think will shape much of the future for our… pardon me, my kind. At any rate, I‘m not even certain how many factions are in play in this particular theater of operations but I have heard of some sort of artifact that is highly sought after by a certain… errant protégé of mine. As soon as it’s existence, and authenticity, is confirmed it will become a priority for virtually everyone in the city, if not the entire region.”
He sat silent for a while. “You know how I feel about the New World. It’s a toilet, especially now.” He felt his stubborn streak rising, he hated spending time among the colonials. The Old Man apparently sensed it as well.
“I’m aware of your hesitance. You must know I would trust this to another agent if I had one as capable.” No matter how old the trick, flattery was always an excellent method to get your way.
He chuckled deeply, the first audible sound from the conversation. “All those years in the dirt have not tarnished your silver tongue Legonnus. Very well. I will go, but it will take me some days to get there. I hope, for once, you can afford me that much of a time table.”
“As per usual I cannot, but there is no viable alternative so it will have to suffice. The artifact is on it’s way to the city now by ship from Erdemir. It should dock in Los Angeles in three days. If you leave tonight you should be able to arrive a day or so after. Unless of course, your dance card for this evening is over-full.” Even though he could not see Legonnus, he could hear the smile in his voice.
“Well, I did have a wine tasting to attend with the Prime Minister, but I suppose that will have wait since this is clearly a matter of state. So tell me more about this ancient artifact…”
Lazuras concentrated, even though there was no light at this height on the cathedral and his skin darkened to match the stone behind him. He spread his great wings and his skin, again, shifted to match the coloration of his surroundings. He launched himself into the air with a great leap as he continued talking with his old friend via their mental link.
Part II: Furry Bastards
The werewolf’s corpse hit the ground with a satisfyingly wet thud. The body, a ragged pile of bloody fur, slowly began to shrink and contract in front of Lazuras’ eyes. He’d seen it all before, too many times. The body would revert back to it’s natural state before the change overtook the beast. He didn’t like killing the Garou. He respected them. But they always had viewed him with a particular disdain. Almost all of them assumed he was a vampire. Most were too stupid or hot-blooded to let it go beyond that. Those that did, usually didn’t see enough difference to matter. It always ended the same way, a fight that they didn’t win. The body was now a normal wolf, the gashes and tears in her flesh were still visible but she wouldn’t be getting up. To a casual observer it would look like a wolf that had been mauled by a bear. He wasn’t even sure how she found him. She’d just been there when he’d awoken. For all their brutality and primitive savagery, the Garou were quite cunning, another reason he admired them.
As near as he could tell he was somewhere in the steppes of Russia. Another day to the Bering Straight and a few more into California. He’d have to be more careful once he got closer to populated areas. These furry bastards would become less frequent but new dangers would replace old ones. As far as he knew, no one in L.A. but Aaron knew he existed and he wouldn’t be looking for his return. Lazuras leapt from the ground and with a great whoosh of his wings he climbed higher and higher into the air, his skin changing again to match the dark surroundings. It wasn’t instant, like bending light, more like a chameleon or an octopus’ camouflage, it was slow to react but usually was close enough during flight to provide more than adequate cover. Any potential onlookers would see only a large flash of dark movement in the tree canopy that they would likely discount as a trick of their eye or the wind whipping a branch. Of course, Lazuras hadn’t even seen so much as a town for a hundred miles. Camouflage seemed like a complete waste this far out in the wilderness but he had always been cautious.
As he soared above the enormous forest he wondered why he’d never settled out in some god-cursed wilderness. It all smelled so wild, so primal. It was the kind of clean that none of the human metropolitan cesspools retained. Furthermore, it was well out of the path of all the meddling Kindred and their ridiculous schemes and nets. It would not be a completely peaceful existence but the right sort of lore surrounding an area: haunted, evil, or cursed, would keep most meddlers out. This was something of a ritual that he went through whenever traveling great distances on some errand to look into a matter in which he had no personal interest. He would dream up ways to avoid this sort of thing in the future, a self-imposed banishment from all things mortal, vampire, and otherwise. It never seemed to happen. Still, it was always something of a comfort to know the option was there.
Part III: Damn Kids
California was much worse than he remembered. He didn’t really keep up with mortal happenings of late but began to think maybe he should just to prepare for new assignments. If California was bad, Los Angeles was a squalid dystopia. From the air, it looked like there were more derelicts than civilians. Getting around was easy, half the city was shrouded in darkness. Here and there grass and small trees broke through the concrete sidewalk. Dilapidated buildings were everywhere and the entire city was a dead husk of what it used to be. The downtown area was all but deserted. Here and there bars and clubs were open late but after sunset most everything went dark. Only one building stood out in the downtown skyline as being truly occupied, brightly lit, and jutting from the city like a dirty ivory spire. Venture Towers. He had an idea what this might imply.
Lazuras sailed high in the air. He had only what Legonnus had told him to go on and that was precious little. The Old Man didn’t have many contacts in this area any more. He headed South for the coast and harbor. His answers probably lay there.
Over the outlying areas surrounding Los Angeles he could see that many part of the city were blacked out. From the look of it, entire grids were down and there seemed no activity that indicated there were crews working on fixing it. This city was rotting from the inside out. As he had traveled South through the state he had noticed a definite change as he had drawn closer to this once proud and bustling metropolis. He had read many books that referenced the city and counted it as one of the modern marvels of the United States. It seems that too had changed in the years since he was last here. Occasionally, a lone siren would announce an emergency vehicle hurrying to rush some victim of illness or violence to a hospital. They were the only cars on the road this late.
As he soared hundreds of feet in the air, well out of eyesight and earshot, always with his camouflage (something he rarely did without, while in a city). He suddenly felt the strange prickling in his mind that always heralded a message from Legonnus. It was not unpleasant, he likened it to how the smell of the wind changed prior to a heavy rain. He wasn’t sure if this was the way it always worked or it was something Legonnus did to serve as a notice for him.
“I see you’ve made it to the city safely.”
“Yes, I was just about to go inspect the docks.”
“Let that wait a few hours more. I have received some new information. It seems the item in question has already come to the attention of several others in the city. The pursuit for the artifact is already underway. Aaron is already moving in the city. I suspect I know who is directing his activities.” Legonnus was always markedly oblique when it came to speaking of his rivals. Clashes between the agents of elders were a common source of Kindred strife. The argument could be made that it was the sole source of Kindred strife. Indeed, the entire ridiculous Jyhad is little more than one elder’s pawns of one sect engaged in a bloody squabble with another elder’s pawns from a rival sect. It was pathetic.
“What would you have me do?”
“The prince has apparently dispatched one of the newest childer in the city on some errand that may inadvertently lead to clues about the whereabouts of our quarry. Whether this is an unofficial death sentence or this fledgling shows real promise and the prince is looking to suss it out remains questionable. One thing is clear, if this whelp gets even remotely mired in things beyond her, she’ll be ash before dawn. I want you to find and track this neonate. She may be able to turn up a lead we overlook. She’s newly embraced, she is more connected to the mortal world. That may prove valuable. I was also told that a certain Sewer Rat — something of a local activist, famous for taking on hard luck cases – has taken the Rite of Accounting for her, ostensibly to save her from execution, so she may not be traveling alone.”
“Ostensibly? Acts of kindness are not exactly the forte of your sort. Do you think this messiah has an angle?”
“Everyone always has an angle my dear friend. Except you. You are the one of the few whose intent is always pure.”
“There goes that tongue again Old Man, I don’t require coddling this time.” Lazuras’ mouth widened a bit to show teeth, what was a smile to him would look like a snarl to just about anyone else. He wheeled about and began to head north to look for the passing of this new childe. The calm sense of sharing his mind with another slowly faded as Legonnus retracted his mental link.
Just a few miles north, a hail of gunfire erupted below Lazuras in the parking lot of some kind of all-night mortal shop. From this height, the muzzle flare was barely more than weak flashes but for whatever reason, instinct he supposed, Lazuras decided to look in on what was happening. As he slowly descended the gunfire continued for a few more seconds. The shots sounded like small arms, pistols like as not. Suddenly, the air was split by a loud boom that silenced all the other activity. This was clearly a much larger caliber gun, a rifle or shotgun, he wasn’t very good at identifying the mortals’ firearms. He found them to be vulgar and clumsy. As he lighted on a rooftop several hundred feet away he watched the scene playing out.
A small group in front of this fueling station (apparently riding in a limousine) appeared to have been confronted by some street thugs. They had probably been marked for robbery because of their apparent affluence. One of the accosted had put a swift end to the confrontation by executing one of the street thugs. His remains now decorated the asphalt, the limousine, and his partner in crime.
…Strange, all but the driver of the limousine was a vampire. The Kindred generally don’t cluster into groups this large, and certainly not for very long excepting along clan lines. This group was obviously of divers lineages. That was even more strange. Of particular note, was that there was a Nosferatu among them. That seemed all too coincidental. A group this large traveling in one car would certainly garner notice from all sides in a city this packed with eyes. Now the neonates were arguing about something, and preparing to depart the scene. Certainly, they didn’t want to become enmeshed with the local constables. The driver had apparently been hit in some of the crossfire and one of the kids was driving the limo (on a flat tire) out of the area. Lazuras shook his head. It was too soon to be one-hundred percent certain but amateurism of this… magnitude, usually only accompanied the exceedingly inept and the very inexperienced. Generally the former did not live long to make many such mistakes. There seemed a very palpable chance he’d stumbled right onto his mark. He took flight and kept an eye on the moving limo until it came to a stop several blocks away. Soon after, another car came to pick the group up and sped off north. The sky was beginning to lighten as the group hurriedly filed one by one by into an underground bus depot. This was almost certainly an access point to one of their lairs, most likely the Sewer Rat’s. Until he found proof otherwise Lazuras decided to watch this group assuming they were the cadre of the newly created vampire Legonnus had spoke of.
After the car that had dropped them off headed in the direction of a local hospital, Lazuras found a place nearby to roost until night fall. Dawn was already pearling the sky and he did not have much time. He found a parking deck nearby and scrambled into the interior of the structure. Predictably there were homeless and derelict vagabonds populating the deck and few cars but he could be silent as death when necessary. That, coupled with his camouflage made his passing as quiet as the wind. He found a more or less unoccupied level of the parking structure and began to sink slowly into the concrete. He moved deep enough into the stone mire so as to minimize his outline on the inside wall of the structure. He also curled into a ball so his faint silhouette on the wall looked like little more than the light outline of a small car that once sat against a dirty wall picked out in grime. There he waited for night.