Occasionally, Cassidy wished she wore more jingling-jangling things, as she walked through the city, her lips curled in a half-smile as she passed by friends, couples, loners, and acquainted strangers underneath lights so bright, you would think humans were trying to challenge the stars. Cassidy was fairly certain it was what humans were doing in their too-short lives. Challenging stars. Challenging gods. Planets. Suns. Challenging themselves, really.
Be more.
Be better.
Cassidy always liked the changes, unlike others who bemoaned them. She itched to go to Dubai, Shanghai, Tokyo, to see so much more, but she’d need to pull a favor with the Optimates for good forgeries, and she didn’t have many strings to pull for that, and rumors circulated that the things Optimates wanted were…unsavory. Of course, that could be the rumors of their enemies. Who didn’t have enemies?
Even Cassidy, who kept herself as out of politics as she could, had enemies.
At least her enemies were usually straight to the point, with something sharp. They knew better to bother with bullets, that would only piss her off. Most arrows were also fairly ineffective. To pierce the heart, you have to pierce it fully, after all. A bullet to the heart didn’t seem to work.
Cassidy didn’t ask why.
That was for other people to research and figure out.
She asked why about the new monstrosities no one seemed to care about. Hunters.
She only knew that for certain, because she’d seen a few before they…changed. ‘Ra is cursing them for hunting his children.’ That had been the Sun God’s blithe response, she recalled from a meeting. Not that anyone took Amon seriously anymore when he went on these tangents about vampires being the children of the sun god, who existed in darkness to make sure it never overcame the sun.
What kind of fucked up vampire thought he was a sun god – and lived this long?
Questions she probably didn’t actually want an answer to, if she considered the fucked up things elder vampires were said to do. It still made her chuckle, as she wished again for jingling while turning into a quiet corner.
She was hunting, too.
Not officially on the payroll of the city, she had still informed them of what she would be doing, and no one, not even the official ambassador to the hunters, protested. ‘If you’re only hunting mutants, they shouldn’t have an issue with it. They should be giving them up themselves, but we’re at war here, so, let loose the hounds of hell.’
That meant even those not-quite affiliated.
Or perhaps, especially, those not-quite affiliated. Their actions could be denied.
Cassidy knew the way to a dive bar that several hunters went to. She did not intend to go quite that far, that was suicide, but she intended to scour the grounds near it for any more of their strange handiwork. She wished she could take the form of a cat, like her sire, but she made do with quieting her steps through subtle manipulations of her form, and kept her head down as she walked those paths, where once industry boomed, but now, were left mostly abandoned, or shells of what they had once been only a century ago. Only a few decades ago.
Time changed things so quickly.
She didn’t stand out, not much. Dark denim jeans and red flannel wasn’t strange in the grungy setting. She wasn’t wearing one of her cowboy hats. That might have set off alarms. Her gun wasn’t visible, safely kept in her purse, in a case she could open quickly – if she needed it. She didn’t often, but everyone preferred hunters die in means that authorities could explain.
Bullets made more sense than something that looked like a bear mauled them, here. If authorities ever got a hand on them, which wasn’t ideal in these cases.
Cassidy perked at the sound of voices, and stilled, eyes staying on the ground even if she wasn’t close enough to be seen. The situation wasn’t sounding good, although she was too far too make out much.
Making a split-decision, as the tone and volume level changed, Cassidy rushed towards the sounds, pulling her gun from the black purse on the way as she swept around the corner and found herself face to face with a not-entirely unfamiliar situation.
~***~
“Ach, Antoni. Everything revolves around bread and death.”
“Bread and circuses, Gia. We hide the death with the bread and circus.”
“For you Romans, maybe.”
Such reflections were easy for fair Antonia to make in the shadows of the church, with its beautiful stained glass saints casting colors about the shadows, as she examined a piece of so-called ‘flesh’ of Jesus. Bread.
Such was an easy reflection to make given her own state, and her actions of always playing to the show, when she heard the sudden gasp of an all-too familiar hunter and looked up from her investigation of the bread, crushing the non-flesh into crumbs and letting it fall to the floor for rats – or more likely, a hand-vacuum held by an annoyed altar boy. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
“Nor was I,” Antonia said, stepping lightly down the two steps, heels making no sound on the purple fabric that led to the podium as she walked between the pews to where the hunter straightened himself up. “Situations changed. Tyr is visiting his childe and arrives at the airport today,” her eyes all but glowed as she came to stop in a particular beam of light.
She was a showman.
She knew how the play of light worked on the champagne dress and her fair skin, the way it threw colors upon her, and around her. She knew how powerful she looked as she stared down the hunter, who was a respectable 6’, but her heels bumped her up to match – and he was smaller, no matter how he tried to hold himself, no matter how Angelic he also seemed with his tousled blond curls and blue eyes.
And name.
“All the information is here, Michael,” she passed the hand-written information over. Technology was too easy to track. Paper burned. “He’s called for an uber. Replace the driver and put an end to him.”
“You make it sound easy,” he said, and then, gave that cocky smile, “Of course, it is,” and of course, it would be, “I do appreciate all you’re doing. Perhaps one day the god will smile upon you and remove your own curses.”
Always the god. Never God alone.
Antonia had questions, but she’d lived through so many false religions, she had also just stopped caring.
If there was a god – the god that cursed Cain and made them vampires as her sire used to say – he would be smart to never let her die, because if he did, she would find out how to commit deicide, and he would regret existing.
So she only smiled, “Perhaps,” was her non-committal answer. If they wanted to think she sought repentance for existing, they could do that. She didn’t really care what they thought, so long as they continued to kill everyone she despised. It was a very long list. It would go on for quite a while…but what did she have, if not time? “I’ll look forward to the update.”
Michael nodded, took the folded paper, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do need to make new preparations.”
Antonia gave an amused smile and inclined her head, before walking towards the door, letting her presence fade, drawing it in to almost subtract it. Michael had use of the church at night. So did his hunters. He would hate for her to be seen by those who followed him. They weren’t prepared to know who one of their benefactors was, after all.
She understood that.
Be more.
Be better.
Cassidy always liked the changes, unlike others who bemoaned them. She itched to go to Dubai, Shanghai, Tokyo, to see so much more, but she’d need to pull a favor with the Optimates for good forgeries, and she didn’t have many strings to pull for that, and rumors circulated that the things Optimates wanted were…unsavory. Of course, that could be the rumors of their enemies. Who didn’t have enemies?
Even Cassidy, who kept herself as out of politics as she could, had enemies.
At least her enemies were usually straight to the point, with something sharp. They knew better to bother with bullets, that would only piss her off. Most arrows were also fairly ineffective. To pierce the heart, you have to pierce it fully, after all. A bullet to the heart didn’t seem to work.
Cassidy didn’t ask why.
That was for other people to research and figure out.
She asked why about the new monstrosities no one seemed to care about. Hunters.
She only knew that for certain, because she’d seen a few before they…changed. ‘Ra is cursing them for hunting his children.’ That had been the Sun God’s blithe response, she recalled from a meeting. Not that anyone took Amon seriously anymore when he went on these tangents about vampires being the children of the sun god, who existed in darkness to make sure it never overcame the sun.
What kind of fucked up vampire thought he was a sun god – and lived this long?
Questions she probably didn’t actually want an answer to, if she considered the fucked up things elder vampires were said to do. It still made her chuckle, as she wished again for jingling while turning into a quiet corner.
She was hunting, too.
Not officially on the payroll of the city, she had still informed them of what she would be doing, and no one, not even the official ambassador to the hunters, protested. ‘If you’re only hunting mutants, they shouldn’t have an issue with it. They should be giving them up themselves, but we’re at war here, so, let loose the hounds of hell.’
That meant even those not-quite affiliated.
Or perhaps, especially, those not-quite affiliated. Their actions could be denied.
Cassidy knew the way to a dive bar that several hunters went to. She did not intend to go quite that far, that was suicide, but she intended to scour the grounds near it for any more of their strange handiwork. She wished she could take the form of a cat, like her sire, but she made do with quieting her steps through subtle manipulations of her form, and kept her head down as she walked those paths, where once industry boomed, but now, were left mostly abandoned, or shells of what they had once been only a century ago. Only a few decades ago.
Time changed things so quickly.
She didn’t stand out, not much. Dark denim jeans and red flannel wasn’t strange in the grungy setting. She wasn’t wearing one of her cowboy hats. That might have set off alarms. Her gun wasn’t visible, safely kept in her purse, in a case she could open quickly – if she needed it. She didn’t often, but everyone preferred hunters die in means that authorities could explain.
Bullets made more sense than something that looked like a bear mauled them, here. If authorities ever got a hand on them, which wasn’t ideal in these cases.
Cassidy perked at the sound of voices, and stilled, eyes staying on the ground even if she wasn’t close enough to be seen. The situation wasn’t sounding good, although she was too far too make out much.
Making a split-decision, as the tone and volume level changed, Cassidy rushed towards the sounds, pulling her gun from the black purse on the way as she swept around the corner and found herself face to face with a not-entirely unfamiliar situation.
~***~
“Ach, Antoni. Everything revolves around bread and death.”
“Bread and circuses, Gia. We hide the death with the bread and circus.”
“For you Romans, maybe.”
Such reflections were easy for fair Antonia to make in the shadows of the church, with its beautiful stained glass saints casting colors about the shadows, as she examined a piece of so-called ‘flesh’ of Jesus. Bread.
Such was an easy reflection to make given her own state, and her actions of always playing to the show, when she heard the sudden gasp of an all-too familiar hunter and looked up from her investigation of the bread, crushing the non-flesh into crumbs and letting it fall to the floor for rats – or more likely, a hand-vacuum held by an annoyed altar boy. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
“Nor was I,” Antonia said, stepping lightly down the two steps, heels making no sound on the purple fabric that led to the podium as she walked between the pews to where the hunter straightened himself up. “Situations changed. Tyr is visiting his childe and arrives at the airport today,” her eyes all but glowed as she came to stop in a particular beam of light.
She was a showman.
She knew how the play of light worked on the champagne dress and her fair skin, the way it threw colors upon her, and around her. She knew how powerful she looked as she stared down the hunter, who was a respectable 6’, but her heels bumped her up to match – and he was smaller, no matter how he tried to hold himself, no matter how Angelic he also seemed with his tousled blond curls and blue eyes.
And name.
“All the information is here, Michael,” she passed the hand-written information over. Technology was too easy to track. Paper burned. “He’s called for an uber. Replace the driver and put an end to him.”
“You make it sound easy,” he said, and then, gave that cocky smile, “Of course, it is,” and of course, it would be, “I do appreciate all you’re doing. Perhaps one day the god will smile upon you and remove your own curses.”
Always the god. Never God alone.
Antonia had questions, but she’d lived through so many false religions, she had also just stopped caring.
If there was a god – the god that cursed Cain and made them vampires as her sire used to say – he would be smart to never let her die, because if he did, she would find out how to commit deicide, and he would regret existing.
So she only smiled, “Perhaps,” was her non-committal answer. If they wanted to think she sought repentance for existing, they could do that. She didn’t really care what they thought, so long as they continued to kill everyone she despised. It was a very long list. It would go on for quite a while…but what did she have, if not time? “I’ll look forward to the update.”
Michael nodded, took the folded paper, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do need to make new preparations.”
Antonia gave an amused smile and inclined her head, before walking towards the door, letting her presence fade, drawing it in to almost subtract it. Michael had use of the church at night. So did his hunters. He would hate for her to be seen by those who followed him. They weren’t prepared to know who one of their benefactors was, after all.
She understood that.