Vampire: The Masquerade - Nirvana

The next evening, in front of a house on the street where Leona took the cab, Sebastian LaCroix and Veronica LaCroix were standing there, all in plainer clothes to blend into the crowd. Their curiosity about this place didn't alert the others, for they were far from the first bystanders around here today—a murder happened last night, making this place a freshly yellow-taped crime scene.

What the local news media reported was that, the victim, an archaeologist who specialized in Mesopotamian relics and historical remains, was brutally killed and dismembered, with several organs missing, no fingerprints, footprints or traces of DNA. For the victim was single and lived alone, his death was not discovered until the neighbors smelled the horrifying odor two hours ago, and the police initially deducted that this was a crime of a psychopathic killer—of course it was nothing that shocking, compared to the major terrorist attack happened at the head office of LaCroix Group, which had successfully made the global headlines.

But the Prince and the Prime Judicator knew better. This human was working under the direct sponsorship from Prince LaCroix, on a secret project only three of them knew—or it should have been so, and last night, the suicide attack led by Bishop Bridget drew away their attention, whereas the Lasombra Templars had a perfect chance to hit, and they even learnt to hide its true nature of professional assassination by mutilating the body, while distracting the public attention by creating a bigger news that was much more dangerous to your rivals.

Well played. Sebastian had to give the credits. Especially when everyone thought the Sabbats to be brainless animals.

Watching the heavy police force working inside the residence, the Prince commented: "This generation of Sabbat leaders is much more dangerous…they were already troublesome enough by being mad dogs, and now they are smart mad dogs."

"I heard the whole thing was that new Knight Commander's idea." Veronica was also worried, "They said he was already a professional at this even before being Embraced."

"What's his name? Ulysses?"

"Yeah, but not his real name as human, of course. Nobody knows that yet."

"Well," Sebastian wasn't surprised about that, "for a professional, you would certainly expect him to be discreet."

Finally the officers and detectives were preparing to leave, and after exiting the house, all of them gathered around the Prince loosely, while an office handed over a box of books and doc.u.ments to him—these were all the files concerning the subject he had the archaeologist working on.

"Good job, officers, thank you very much for this." Prince LaCroix took over the box. Fortunately, he had thought about this scenario before investing into this young scholar who was eager to be famous, so he had him agreed to keep everything about the research off any electronic devices and on paper materials that would be put into a box labeled "A.S.".

"No problem, mister." And the cop answered with a friendly smirk.

"Now, if all of you here would be so kind, please forget about ever seeing me, this lady, and the box."

After saying this, Sebastian put the box inside an ordinary private car, while Veronica took the driver's seat. They left just like a couple who'd done a grocery shopping, and the police officers went back to work as usual, didn't suspect anything in the process.

"You need to rest, now that all this mess is settled." Veronica glanced at Sebastian and said, noticing the unhidable tiredness wearing his eye corners, "You haven't slept since the thing about Garrett…"

Then she stopped talking, realizing that he was already asleep on the front passenger seat. She smiled, put one hand on his, and susurrated gently:

"Bonne nuit, mon amour."

At the same time, Leona got up from bed in the haven the Prince arranged for her—that's how the Kindred call their own residences—and cleaned herself up: she didn't even bother to take off the dirty clothes before sleep. She was just too tired.

The apartment she lived in now was a small studio that had all necessities in 300 square feet, but it's functional, tidy with all daily-uses equipped and sun-blocking membranes on the window, so Leona wasn't complaining. Took a shower, put up some clothes, she finally looked normal and passable in the crowd again. Because the closet was prepared potentially everyone, it had only one outfit for each size, and the normcore style made her look like a tomboy—what's more, they were all black: black denim jacket, black shirt, black jeans, black boots. Black u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r, even.

After last night, she got why this choice of color. It was not really for the conventional, gothic images that humans think vampires have, merely to make the suspicious stains harder to be spotted. Then she stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, looking at the bloody dress she threw into the basin. The blood had darkened and solidified, making the cloth hard and rough.

But…it's still blood.

She suddenly felt hungry, and her mouth became watery soon after.

Realizing how disgusting this was, Leona turned her head away fiercely and walked out of the place. She stopped by the fridge, opened it and found it empty, didn't know she should felt disappointed or…relieved.

Anyway, back to work. That's the only thing she could do now that felt…human.

Just like the Prince told her, everything she needed was in the folder: 300 dollar cash, addresses and keys, an unbranded but sleek smartphone with a SIM card inside, and even some saved numbers in the phone contact—including the agent that she had to find. Leona tried to call this guy, but he didn't answered, so she just took off directly to his place.

It was a beautiful, sea-facing villa designed in Tuscan style, with a lovely rustic-Italian garden where the plants were refinedly cared and trimmed. The lights were on and there was laughing in the house, so knowing at least somebody was at home, Leona rested her previous worries, and pressed the doorbell.

"Coming…is it the pizza guy?"

A soft, flirtatious female voice came, and two buxom, supermodel-ish women opened the door, with only lingerie on them. Leona froze, while the ladies looked her up and down curiously, as if she was some…service girl.

"Well that was quick…how much is it?"

And a man in his late-twenties approached, too, wearing a bathrobe with some cash in his hand. He was a handsome, well-built brunet, objectively speaking, but the messy hair, sweat on the skin, and the drowsiness in his eyes just completely ruined Leona's first impression of him.

No wonder he didn't pick up the phone.

She looked at him, politely controlling the loathing that was going to break out on her face otherwise, and seeing Leona's slightly luminescent eyes and ivory skin, he finally woke up completely, muttered: "OK, it's not the pizza guy."

"She's cute…plain but cute, like Bambi." While one of the women commented on Leona.

"Yum." And other winked.

Leona chuckled in embarrassment, cleared her throat and said to the man: "Mercurio, right? It's Leona…I'm here for…umm…evening business."

As if something important finally came to mind, this Mercurio guy slapped on his forehead, extended a "sorry" gesture to Leona and said to the women beside him: "Alright, babes…my apologies, but the party's over."

He let Leona in and sent the disappointed girls out, tidied himself up and said: "You are here for the big test, right? LaCroix told me to assist you and observe the process."

"Yes." Watching him for quite some time now, Leona asked, "you are not vampire, are you?"

"No, I'm human, but Prince LaCroix feeds me his blood once in a month and that bounds me to his service, in exchange, I get your vampire physical power and I don't get old, too—you probably can't tell at all, but I'm almost sixty." While answering, Mercurio beckoned her to follow him, "A term for people like me is ghoul."

They went into the garden, opened a hidden entrance in the gazebo by pulling a bracket lamp nearby and walked down the stairs into a bas.e.m.e.nt…no, to be more precise, it's an extravagant arsenal preserving all the deadly weapons Leona had or hadn't heard of in showcases locked by codes, with a square white table in the middle covered in scattered components; and further inside, there was a well-decorated office where he had a huge leather sofa and fridge to even meet and entertain guests.

While Leona was startled by this massive collection of knives and guns, Mercurio entered the office and took out a tablet from his drawer, explaining: "I've already received the message from your clan Regent, but it could only be unlocked by your thumb fingerprint. You Tremeres are very…stealthy that way."

So he clicked on a video attached by one email, plugged in an earbud for Leona and handed the tablet to her, then went back to the arsenal. Both in fear and curiosity, Leona played the clip.

It was a surprisingly young man—a boy, even—with snowy, silky hair and a skin even paler than usual Kindred, like he's an albino patient. He wore a long, red wool coat, stood by the fireplace and stated in the video:

"Good evening, Leona, I'm Maximillian Strauss, the Regent of Tremere clan in North America. I believe Prince LaCroix had already explained the situation, so let's get to the content of the test straight away:

"A previously lost, supernatural object of Tremere Origin has been found obtained by human hands accidentally: a portrait of the biblical character Cain that is about to be displayed in a place in Santa Monica called Gallery Noir. It is said to be bleeding and causing spiritual presence by gallery guards, and has posed itself as a threat of revealing our existence to mankind, so your main goal is to destroy the painting and its unearthly power.

"But other than that, my requirement for you is to also conceal its relation to Tremere clan to everyone besides me without causing suspicions. Of course this will collide with your task of destroying the painting, for you need to disclose information to get assistance from the ghoul Mercurio, but this is the exact purpose of this test: you will prove your ability of upholding the Masquerade to the Prince of Camarilla, and prove your loyalty to Tremere clan at the same time.

"The painting is scheduled to be displayed this Friday, you have until then. Good luck on your test, young one, we shall talk more afterwards."