Realistic or Modern Moonlit Retreats [Closed]

[Syntra]

Honesty? But honesty is not even that great. Not telling lies was the bare fucking minimum, and it really wasn't hard. It... didn't even require any effort? At least not on the conscious level? The idea was to say whatever came to your mind, as soon as it did, which was the opposite of trying. You thought of something? There, just fucking say it!

Not complicated.

Also vaguely suicidal, at times.

Alright, maybe Lilian... could see how not everyone was willing or able to follow her handy little guide, but she still kind of thought she also had better, more attractive traits than talking way faster than her brain processed things. Stuff like... hm... being good at murder? Having a biiig highscore when it came to that whole genocide thing? Fuck, now's not the time for an existential crisis! It never was, mainly because her life supplied various crises on its own with a staggering frequency. No need to become her own enemy, on top of all of that.

"I'm not complaining," Lilian chuckled, "The job also sucked, so I just sucked right back." An understatement, if there ever was one. Being brainwashed from ever since you understood how words even worked did, indeed, suck, and Lilian wasn't sure if she could undo all the damage within one lifetime. And the... weird, semi-parasitic thorns that apparently passed for a healthcare benefit? Yeeeah, also not too great.

"Glad to meet you as well, Silvon," she smiled, fully sincere. That didn't mean that certain not so pleasant things escaped her attention, though, because they fucking didn't. Point one: those supposed 'little white lies,' mentioned oh-so-casually. As if they didn't matter. Point two: Cassidy... acting not quite detached, but also having that slightly off vibe to her, as if something was maybe weighing on her mind. Point three: the tension. Something had happened between the two, and that something was likely more serious than Silvon would have liked to admit. Call it intuition? And Lilian didn't think it was too terrible, because duh; Cass never would have contacted him so readily had that been the case, nor would she have brought her here.

But it probably said something that she'd moved so far away. Into a fucking war zone, as Silvon had put it. Didn't most people want to stay close to their parents? Not that she'd had a lot of experience in the having parents department, but that sort of struck her as a given.

I'll ask her later.

Then Silvon had to go and be a Dad, and Lilian laughed, "Get off her case, will ya? She's got an eternity to figure it out. And the Tristan debt is technically more of my debt, so I will... start paying that off, once I am not quite as broke," which, easier said than done. Sure, the gym gig was convenient, but how exactly was she supposed to amass literally any savings when all of her time was divided between a) dodging death, b) investigating weird vampire gods, c) trying to spend some time with her girlfriend? And yes, the c) part of the equation was super important. Self-care, bitches! Pretty much the only reason Lilian hadn't snapped yet.

The pyramid was about as extravagant as she'd expected it to be, given Amon's involvement. Which, speaking of: "I'm just shocked there aren't more cats. I heard you two are on good terms?" More than good terms, if Cass wasn't exaggerating. "Say, Silvon," Lilian began, entirely too curious, "Are cats really mean? Everyone says they are, especially during these weird cats versus dogs wars, but... I dunno, I've never felt judged by a cat. They seem chill, to me."

Maybe people were just insecure. Maybe cats really were talking mad shit behind her back, though? But Lilian also couldn't say she cared much, considering how many people did exactly that and how little it had affected her so far. As long as they weren't actively plotting her murder, she was probably fine.

"Is there anything you would like to see, Cass?" she turned to her girlfriend, sounding... well, a little too enthusiastic. What? It was Vegas! And, until recently, Lilian's idea of a wild Saturday night was to sit at home with a bottle of vodka and watch The Simpsons reruns. "I... heard there was a kickass museum with scary shit?"

As if they needed more scary shit!

~***~

She'd never forget that.

What, exactly?

That little... gasp, and the way Antonia closed her eyes, as if maybe looking at her was quite too much in the moment. Of course, Inga knew how little that meant; vampire bites were designed that way, to help mitigate the damage. It was an automatic, involuntary thing. Only an idiot would draw any conclusions from that, and so she very much didn't! But Inga would also have had to be much, much stronger than she was to not store the memory into one of her favorite folders, and to not wonder if she could maybe coax more reactions like that from her, under very different circumstances.

Fat fucking chance.

Unless...?

The balance had shifted, a little bit. Possibly a while ago, without her noticing? And it had shifted again, a few seconds ago, simply because Inga knew now and knowing alone changed things, irreversibly.

It was hard to tell where they stood. There could have been whole continents between them, as well as raging seas; forces so loud that they'd never hear one another. Nothing was certain - but didn't that also beat the certainty of failure?

And maybe, just maybe, Inga was a little excited about that.

As if there's anything to forgive.

"I know what's... wrong with me," she pointed out instead, before sipping on some of that blood, "One of those blessed daggers. I... didn't have time to make more antidotes, so I figured I was finished," part of why she hadn't even tried to escape that fate. Amon hadn't occurred to her, likely because he was Antonia's man? And, until recently, she hadn't so much as considered asking Antonia for help.

The Antonia in her head would have laughed. The real Antonia was apparently someone very different, and Inga needed more time to process that. More time to... sort through her own, sometimes unhelpful, thoughts.

Of course, Amon wouldn't miss a single opportunity to call her a pet, but Inga was too fucked up to feel self-conscious about it for once. "Does he even remember my name? Like, seriously." Except that then, then the dots connected themselves before her very eyes, and Inga just kind of stared, her mouth agape.

"You... ran away from a meeting. For me." Duh! It had been tonight, which Inga had promptly forgotten about, a sin that she felt was forgivable due to the whole dying thing. "Tsk, tsk, Antonia," she couldn't help the grin, and didn't even remotely want to, "All those important people must be very disappointed with you. What gives?"

Almost as if you do like me.

A stupid theory, of course! There likely was another, more plausible explanation, and Inga also knew that her wanting to see it that way pushed the idea to the forefront. What was perception, if not a disguised wish?

But her wanting it didn't make it untrue, either. Reality didn't give a fuck about what you thought, and... well, sometimes that could turn out to be surprisingly sweet.

Inga drank more of the blood, "Regretting this already?"

 

[Lucyfer]

“Do start paying him. I’m honestly not kidding about Tristan being scary,” Silvon chuckled, “On the list of people I wouldn’t piss off, he’s up there.” Silvon leaned against the elevator wall, and though Cassidy was giving him a look, he wouldn’t say more on that topic. Little white lies, his history with Tristan was better left unspoken. Plenty of people’s history with Tristan was better left unspoken.

That he had so much history was a surprise to most who met him.

“Sadly, with human allergies, I can’t have cats free-roaming inside, but there are plenty outside, I assure you,” he said, going over to that topic easily. “Cats are…mmm…difficult. Of course, every cat is different, and every orange cat is a doofus who just wants love,” he knew that wasn’t true, but 90% of every orange cat was a doofus who just wanted love. “I believe the kids have a term…tsundere?”

“What?”

“I’m not even sure, I heard someone tossing it around to mean a person who acts mean in public but is soft in private, or something,” the elevator continued to rise, “that seems to sum up most cats I know. They have more of that instinct to be independent than dogs. They don’t judge in a catty way, but they judge in an ‘I don’t know you’ way. And once they know you, it’s either good or bad – or if you’re Amon, they judge you as a sucker.”

“Do they really?”

“Were you not listening?” Silvon countered, and Cassidy flushed. “Oh by god, Cass, how are you ever going to improve your skills if you don’t use them?”

“I only saw the cats in a very distracted situation, I was not paying attention to what they were saying.”

“Well,” he looked back to Lilian, “Every cat recognizes pretty quick that Amon all but worships them, and they aren’t going to turn away free food and a warm home with all the plants they can gnaw on. He’s the Crazy Cat Lord, I’m just the one who talks to them,” Silvon chuckled, “I told Amon that once. He didn’t seem upset to know this, by the way.” The elevator stopped and out they stepped into a relatively private hallway, with few doors, compared to how long it was. “But yes, Cass, what do you want to do in Vegas?”

“I…that museum could be cool,” she said. Cassidy had no idea what this museum was, but if it interested Lilian, it was worth a visit, as Silvon led them down the hall. “Weren’t you telling me about some new mall exhibit?”

“Oh yes! The art exhibit! It’s entertaining – permanent. Well, permanent by human definitions, could be 3 years, could be 10, I doubt it has lasting power beyond 5 if I’m honest, though,” he shrugged, “unless they keep changing it up a lot.” To Lilian, “It’s an interactive gallery of sorts, but these things only really have value for one pass through, after that,” he shrugged, “no real point in doing it again. But that one time is fun.”

He opened a door, and then handed Cassidy a key, as well as offered one out to Lilian, “This is where you two will stay while you’re here, which, I suppose, we ought to step inside, eat, and talk about things besides exhibits and fun.”

“Yeah….” Cassidy agreed, feeling a bit bad to move towards that…but it was time, wasn’t it?

~***~

Blessed daggers and werewolves! Oh, she was going to have a fucking field day figuring this one out. She’d bet it went back to Michael. It had to go back to Michael, didn’t it? She didn’t think the daggers were being passed out, and it was too much of a coincidence. What werewolves were working with Michael, and also protecting a vampire? What the hell was going on? ‘Maybe they just stole dagger? Or maybe they’re older daggers….’

She barely acknowledged what Inga asked at first, her as she was trying to work out the conspiracy theory, and who was going to die first. “Yes.” She was regretting this. Or, that’s what she said, dry enough to be her usual comment. “That meeting was just for show. There would be a fuss if we just told the vampire hierarchy that the hunters were working with an Eldritch horror, possibly alien, and didn’t have a meeting about it. Or if we didn’t tell them anything and they found out later. I prefer mitigating future headaches.”

Which was why she did this.

She didn’t expect it to pan out into anything useful.

Isolde would never be useful to her or Amon, for one. Valencia would see the world burning and just hum, before going back to her business. Valencia was Antonia’s main rival in anything business, which was sad…for Valencia. Of course, they had two different routes. Valencia could say she truly owned everything, whereas Antonia threw money at people and they did what they were already doing, only with enough money to actually go somewhere.

And Haru – Haru was too much a philosopher. He’d overthink everything. He might come back with some useful theories, but that remained to be seen.

The others weren’t even worth remembering.

“Also no, I don’t think Amon remembers your name.” Also not important in Amon’s world. Inga was just Antonia’s newest pet, after all, and god damnit if he wasn’t going to rub this in like salt in a wound. Salt, with a bit of lemon, and a full helping of hot sauce in her eyes! Because she knew precisely how this looked, because she knew precisely how it felt, and yes, yes, she regretted it as much as she didn’t.

August slid into her drive, where Amon was already parked, and out of his own car. She exited hers, noting Felix seeming anxious on the steps. He came over quickly, not needing to ask what was going on when Antonia opened the door for Inga, “Blessed dagger,” she told Amon, before addressing Felix, “Get her up and in the house, somewhere,” Antonia said, “I need to clean August.”

“Now, Antony?” Amon teased, “You’re not going to join us, to make sure she recovers, to kiss her forehead and comfort her as she gets her strength back?”

‘I will literally punch you.’ She did not say that. He would take it as a challenge, and she didn’t have the energy to deal with him. “I don’t need to oversee your work, and dried blood is a bitch to get out of anything.” She’d ignore his other comments about wanting to comfort Inga.

It was an excuse. It was a very poor excuse, but she wasn’t going to subject herself to Amon’s merciless teasing and Inga’s…whatever Inga would be doing, if not joining in to get answers out of her actions.

They spoke for themselves!

Which was really the worst thing, wasn’t it?

Still, Felix would move to help Inga, as Antonia walked back around, prepared to get back in the car once Inga was out, and drive it to her garage where she could clean it. As she’d used to take care of horses and mutter all sorts of things to them while working through unnecessary complications.

At least cars couldn’t tell secrets, unlike horses.

 

[Syntra]

Tristan... didn't seem like the scary sort, but Lilian also knew a thing or two about perception by now, and how it didn't have to correspond with reality in pretty wild ways. "Oh, that I will," she assured him, "Not like I want to make new enemies. The old ones are bad enough." Michael, and likely Deana, now, and... some of her former friends, though not Eugene or Maria. Fuck, I really should call them. Maria's bike remained woefully unreturned, and while Lilian didn't exactly blame herself for forgetting about it, she did understand that it was better to solve this sooner rather than later.

And, of course, they also deserved to know the truth. Deana was too set in her own ways; a hunter, through and through, atrocities or not. To her, the god being an abomination likely wouldn't matter. The rest of them, though? Knowing just what they worshiped could change a mind or two!

(Hopefully.)

The cat situation wasn't surprising, except-- "Wait, wait, wait," Lilian's eyes went wide, "You can also talk to cats?" Two thoughts popped into her mind at once: a) How come you don't do it, then?! b) Oh god, the sire and childe thing IS about being family. It seemed undeniable to her now, with this... hereditary aspect? Genetics-altering fuckery? The comparison was only all too easy to make, even if Cass obviously didn't have Silvon's eyes or his nose, or whatever the latest father/daughter cliche was.

Alright, she is NOT turning me. Never, not in a million years. Who would be a good candidate, though? So far, pretty much everyone else had seemed outrageously dysfunctional even to her, and that... sure as fuck was saying something. Definitely not anything good, though. Antonia is a no-go, and do I want any of what Inga has? Not even Inga wanted any of what Inga had, which didn't sound promising to Lilian. Tristan looked relatively normal, but apparently he also had some skeletons in his--

Am I unironically looking for a vampire parent?

Maybe! It wasn't as if Lilian had made her decision, but it was... probably better to be prepared, in case her life somehow devolved into an even bigger chaos.

No, fucking scratch that - once it devolved into an even bigger chaos. Once was more realistic, given the shape of her future.

"Oh, that could be fun!" Lilian nodded to Cassidy's suggestion. "How interactive is it? I have never been into more traditional museums, because like... I can watch stuff on the internet just fine." Also for free! Paying for it struck her as something a sucker would do, and Lilian Perry liked to think she wasn't a sucker.

They arrived to their suite, and Lilian headed towards the fridge, ignoring the sacks with blood and instead reaching for the Cola. Cola wasn't... ideal, but it was also inoffensive. Also, she should probably stay sober for this conversation? Shit already seemed crazy enough, even without her flushing her credibility down the drain.

"Oh, yeah," she turned to Silvon, figuring he deserved some explanation, "Basically, we've gotten into god killing. Or alien hunting, I guess? It really depends on who you ask, though if I can give you a piece of friendly advice, don't ask Inga. I did that once and she held me hostage on the phone for an hour," and no, Lilian still didn't understand anything. What she'd gathered from that conversation was that Inga had several conflicting theories, along with zero shame about filling people's heads with nonsense.

None of that was shocking.

"We just know he's bad news, since hunters are working with him. For some motherfucking reason! Probably couldn't find a way to be even less ethical about their pursuits? But yes, that about sums it up," she glanced at Cass, "And it seems like you might have access to something that could help us with that."

~***~

You aren't. No, Antonia wasn't really regretting this, and Inga thought she sort of figured out how to tell. How, you ask? By looking at her situation. No matter what Antonia said, she was... well, still sitting in her car. Still heading towards Amon, and thus also towards her salvation, instead of bleeding out on the pavement. And wouldn't it have been the easiest thing to do? To just... kick her out, the second her stupid little comments got too annoying?

"Hmm," Inga grinned, "Guess you should be thankful for the excuse to leave, then, if it was so terrible and pointless."

Nope, still not buying it! Any of it, and least of all the regret. Antonia wasn't the sort of fool to fall for the sunk cost fallacy. She didn't even slightly do the things she didn't want to do, because she was Antonia fucking Lenart and the world was her bitch.

She also... wasn't very similar to Inga herself, which, duh! An obvious fucking observation, but also one that had played a smaller role in her judgments than it perhaps should have. One that had made her take some things more seriously than they deserved to be taken, because she would have meant them that way? But Inga dodged with her words, and, more and more, it seemed that Antonia deflected. Said things that weren't entirely honest, instead of saying nothing at all.

Stuff like the meeting not really mattering. Stuff like... needing to clean her car right now, for reasons?

It was cute.

Devastatingly so.

Moreso even than the idea of her kissing her forehead, dammit!

The realization was so powerful that stopping the words felt nothing short of impossible - if Inga wanted to stop them in the first place. Which, by the way, she very much didn't! "Why did none of you ever tell me she had it in her to be this cute?" Alright, hopefully Antonia hadn't heard that, "I can't believe I'm only learning such important information now! Man, I... I really need to restart my entire brain, this is amazing. Changes everything."

Yes, Inga did seem entirely too happy for someone who was still technically bleeding to death, and no, she didn't at all mind. Why should she? There were few things she enjoyed more than learning, at the end of the day, and learning more about Antonia, her favorite person, was a particularly delightful combination. Two in one! For the same price!

(And she was really, really, really excited to discover more little details like that, because if there was something better than writing fanfiction in your head, it had to be... well, living it. Even if it also highkey scared her.)

"I love her so much," she blabbed to nobody in particular as Felix helped her climb the stairs, clearly hellbent on embarrassing herself, "Perhaps I should be dying more often? But also maybe not, she seemed kind of upset. And the dagger... the dagger sucked, I wouldn't want to die that way. Don't need to... vindicate the hunters, you know? An annoying bunch. No wonder that Lilian quit!"

To Inga's credit, she obviously still was fucked up.

That it only made her even more honest was a separate issue.

 

[Lucyfer]

Cassidy nodded at the query about cats, adding on, “Most animals,” so Lilian knew it was a thing and not just reserved to cats. It was an odd talent, really, and Cassidy had several questions about it, but no one had answers. No one really understood how these talents worked, except that they were usually genetic.

Usually being key.

There were exceptions. Variations. Mutations.

Yet, her talent was the same as Silvon’s. She’d never seen any change.

The commentary on the exhibit was at least better than thinking about the oddity of her rebirth, and by default, Silvon’s talents and his ability to use it t spy anywhere and everywhere he wanted. People forgot about that so easily. ‘I wonder if he and Tristan clashed over spy networks….’ No matter.

“I’m not sure how interactive it is,” not really – she hadn’t been in it yet, and Silvon had made it sound interesting – but she still wasn’t terribly sure how it would be, only that it sounded interesting, and it was something she hadn’t experienced, so why not? Lilian went to the fridge, and Cassidy followed, because she did need a drink, too.

She still poured it into a cup, as Silvon leaned against the nearby counter of their suite, waiting for the explanation that Lilian began. Silvon’s look shifted from curious, to surprised, all the way back to annoyed as Lilian noted he had something of use. “Mmm, so you want something from me?”

There was that familiar testiness! Cassidy sighed, “Are you really going to withhold it if it could be useful in dealing with this thing the hunters have?”

Silvon shrugged, “Not all hunters are bad, and I don’t know these. Well, I suppose I know they’re now an actual enemy as dubbed by one of the ambassadors,” he waved that off, “but what you’re saying is fairly farfetched.”

“I know, and if I hadn’t seen it myself, and seen what it was doing, I wouldn’t be asking you for help. But there is something that Amon’s calling Apep, or a Proto-Vampire, and others are calling Cain, and it’s…it’s mutating hunters, making them stronger, but also making some of them lose their minds.”

“And Lilian could lose hers, I take it, so you’re desperate,” he drawled, and Cassidy felt herself puff up with indignant anger at the suggestion that she was desperate, only because usually, usually, Silvon took advantage of the desperate.

But Cassidy was his childe.

That still made all the difference. “For what it’s worth, I do believe you,” he added, “but what is it you think I have that can help?”

Cassidy took out her phone and brought up the picture of the Hand of Mysteries quickly, and zoomed in on the area of the symbol by the thumb, bringing it over to Silvon, “You had a jewel with this on it – in it, once, didn’t you?”

He looked at it, chuckled, “Ah, yeah. I did.” Definitely past tense. “I sold it, though.”

~***~

Antonia absolutely heard that, but for her own sake, she was going to pretend she didn’t as she shut the door behind her and drove the car back to her garage, where she would, in fact, busy herself with cleaning it. No point in lying about that. It needed cleaned!

Amon and Felix would be left to deal with Inga and her comments, Felix not exactly sure how to deal with the comments. Obviously, he would have to bother Antonia with them later, but at this very moment, with Inga bleeding out? Probably just best to revert to the usual stoic guard and just…help Inga into the house, and into a chair, which was exactly what he did as Amon just chuckled along.

“Some things about Antonia are secrets of the highest order,” Amon noted, as if such a thing were a secret. In a way, it was. It wasn’t as if Antonia let vulnerabilities be known so easily, where fury wasn’t involved. Sadly, she let her fury be known all too well. It was why everyone knew she was behind the Veturia killings, even if they couldn’t prove. How he’d been sure of it, for years, too.

“It’s not a good idea to make her upset, though,” Amon kneeled easily, wrist already opened by his fangs. He let the blood flow into Inga’s wound, manipulating it as easily as humans breathed to purge that tainted blessing out of Inga’s body and heal her heart. “So I do advise against getting yourself almost killed again. Next time, she simply may not be in the mood.” A shrug, “not that I’ve known her to be fickle.”

Quite the opposite.

That was her entire problem, of course.

Petty, yes.

It didn’t take as much work as Amon thought it would. Oh, it certainly would have killed Inga, if left alone, but the blessing left a residual of its touch, easy to remove with the right ability – and wasn’t Amon just lucky enough to have that?

He stood when he was done. “Well, I’m afraid I won’t be taking you back home, Inga. You’ll need to figure things out with your dearly beloved,” it wasn’t too hard to call an uber, but he doubted Antonia would send Inga home in an uber in such a bloodstained outfit. No, he imagined Inga was likely staying, at least until the next day, even if there was enough time to drive her back and get home – or at least drive her back.

Felix didn’t worry about the sun.

“Try not to get yourself killed again tonight.” He advised, before heading out.

“I…ah, I can get you home,” Felix offered, although he had the sinking feeling that wasn’t happening, and he was stupid to even suggest it. Still, what was he supposed to do? Antonia hadn’t given any direction about what to do with Inga when she was all touched up, and she likely wouldn’t be back in the house until much later. The garage was proofed against the sun, and had a path that would keep her out of the sun, all the way back inside, too.

 

[Syntra]

It was difficult to gauge what the dynamic between Cassidy and Silvon was, with all the hints and not-hints, but Lilian believed she might have just witnessed one of the less pleasant aspects of the entire affair. The… sudden sharp turn? Yeah, not great. Not fucking great at all, and she could see the need for caution, as well as the reason behind the not-quite-resentment. “Uh, yes? To deal with the hunters? Because they are everyone’s problem.” It wasn’t like they’d come here to beg for Silvon for money, dammit! Alright, fine – technically, the jewel likely could be sold for a lot, if only because weird fucks everywhere liked collecting weird things. The more useless, the better! So, indeed, they would likely be costing him something. Was it so hard to look at the context, though? They weren’t trying to cheat him, or planning to leech off of him just because they could, courtesy of rich daddy privileges. Rich daddy privileges? Where’s that brain bleach when you need it?

“I mean, it’s not your problem yet, but it might as well be soon,” Lilian continued, without missing a beat, “Because I know for sure that these hunters don’t just operate in our city. Never have.” The center of power was where Michael was, of course; no holy book mentioned this, but kissing his ass, did, in fact, seem to be a major aspect of the faith. Or the ass of anyone who was deemed special enough? Deana had pointed out something like that, about Michael supposedly being an extra good boy, and Lilian both wanted and didn’t want to know what that fucking meant. Still! Other outposts were definitely a thing.

“Let this fester for long enough and see if you like the results. If I know them at all – and I believe me, I do – then they are only going to get bolder. The god thing is… relatively new. Only about twenty years in the making, if our intel is correct. But they have been watching, and they have been learning, and I guarantee you, you won’t like it when those mutated hunters start showing up in your backyard.”

Because, the thing about warzones? They fucking spread. Often, all it took was a single spark, some dry hay, and enough people willing to ignore the fire since, pfft, such a small thing, right? Couldn’t possibly grow into something bigger!

No, Lilian wasn’t going to mention the personal aspect. That sucked, but was also largely irrelevant to people who weren’t her or Cass, or other unfortunate suckers caught up in the experiment. No point in crying about it.

And, well, she also didn’t feel too inclined to open up after he’d pointed out the desperateness. Thanks for that, asshole! Just talk about my maybe-deadly condition like it’s fucking weather!

Silvon might have praised her honesty, but something told her he wouldn’t have liked it if she’d been honest with him right then, instead of choosing to stay silent. And wasn’t that the entire problem? People liked the truth, though only conditionally, when it happened to align with what they fucking wanted to hear.

Which, Lilian also wasn’t hearing what she wanted to hear, “Sold it?” she repeated, somehow not sounding surprised at all. Things going right, in her life? Yeeeeah, not bloody likely. “Okay, cool, not the end of the world. Do you know anything at all about the buyer? Their… contact info? What they might want to do with it?”

~***~

That makes it more fun. Those things being secret meant that Inga could get to discover them, and wasn’t that just the best? A delightful surprise after delightful surprise! Well… no, likely not, since people were people and came with people-like features, a lot of them more annoying than anything else. In her own way, Antonia could probably also be pretty annoying. Still, wouldn’t that make everything that much more real? Oh, it definitely would, and so she was beyond excited about that as well – which, in turn, made it feel delightful all the same. Funny how that worked. “I will try,” Inga grinned, “Gods know I don’t want to make her sad.” She’d already done that, and much more than she’d had any right to, so now it was time for something else. Hopefully? Yes, hopefully.

She still didn’t understand much about this. ‘Why’ was the most obvious question, but far from the only one; there was also the dreaded ‘In what way,’ as in, ‘In what way do you like me?’ Because Inga wasn’t going to pretend that there weren’t many ways to enjoy a person, and that she wasn’t hoping for a very specific, very longshot version of it. After all, Antonia not wanting her to die didn’t mean she wanted her. There were many people Inga didn’t want to die, and she didn’t remotely want them.

She didn’t even know if she liked women at all.

So, still a potential heartbreak? Definitely! Always in the cards, always at the forefront, and maybe even worse, now, with the small flicker of hope. And, yes, there was the impulse to disappear; to keep this, whatever it was, and ride off into the metaphorical sunset. Not like reality had to taint the memory, you know? The thought was somewhat tempting, and Inga did flirt with it as Amon worked, but she knew in her heart of hearts that she wasn’t actually considering it. It would likely make Antonia sad, for one. Inga also had work to do now, both with the god and the Veturia, and she did want to see it through. Most importantly, her staying the last time… had turned out fine? More than fine! It had led directly to this, so it only made sense to stay some more and really see where the path might lead.

Strength poured back into her veins, as it always did, which was how she knew she was okay. Well, not yet – but would be, soon. Some things required time. “Thank you, Amon,” Inga beamed, “And yes, I should probably go talk to her. So maybe later, Felix?”

Antonia wasn’t hard to find, mainly because she was exactly where she’d said she would be. “Need a hand?” Inga asked, feeling… all kinds of things, though mostly self-conscious, for now, because the bloodbath in August’s backseat really was her fault.

Feeling stupid was a close second, though. How had she come without figuring out what to say?!

And now Antonia was here, and she was also here, and they were both here, dammit, but the problem was if they were on the same page at all, about a lot of things.

”Thank you,” Inga finally said, since gratitude was always good, “I really didn’t want to break that vow.” ‘Didn’t want to die’ would have been more direct, but she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that, and didn’t wish to accidentally lie. The vow thing, though? 100% true! “I was also thinking we could…” What, date? Absolutely, but also sure as fuck not, because there simply wasn’t a way to say something like that to Antonia Lenart. Just… trust her, she’d run the mental simulations. Not a single one of those had ever ended well!

But we really should spend more time together. Not because Inga wanted to, even if she very much did. More than that, it was… to give Antonia the chance to grow tired of her? They hadn’t talked a lot recently, and maybe she was beginning to forget just who Inga was, in the light of all the murders that she knew made her happy.

Except that Inga wasn’t the murders. Inga was Inga, and killing was just one thing she did, in addition to all the other things that would likely drive Antonia crazy.

Wasn’t it fair to remind her? To let her slide back into being annoyed, before she fell for someone who didn’t even exist?

(That she wanted the opposite to happen was beside the point.)

“…Spar some more,” Inga finished the sentence, “If you’d like to? I’m clearly getting rusty if randos like Kirana have a shot, so I need a worthy opponent,” an obvious excuse, but: “Meaning I’m not only saying this because I like being with you.”

Not an excuse for her, actually. Everyone knew, and so there was little point to dancing this particular dance, but Inga figured that Antonia might welcome it, in case she did want to see her but couldn’t find a justification. She… was familiar with mental gymnastics, to say the least. With bending the narrative, so that things didn’t look quite as embarrassing as they were. Like this, Antonia would simply be doing her a favor. A murder-related favor! Better swordplay for better murders!

And if they happened to have fun, and maybe figure some things out, then that would be a bonus. Not that Inga had any idea what she would even do if Antonia reciprocated, but... yeah.

“Also, can I stay for the day? I do live somewhat far away from here, and… I can sleep in the garage, I don’t mind.”

Maybe she was pushing it.

 

[Lucyfer]

Silvon looked less than impressed with Lilian’s butting in. He’d lived long enough not to consider a group of hunters a threat if they weren’t near him. Even if they did have other branches across a nation – or even a few nations. Hunters just…came and went. That was how humans were. None ever stood the test of time. So, no, he didn’t believe Lilian was an authority despite coming from the group.

Even if this god thing was…well, new.

“I think you vastly underestimate Vegas’s ability to deal with freaks of all sorts, Lilian,” Silvon said with a bit of a crooked smile, “and overestimate these hunters, but you would, and Cassidy would. You haven’t seen the way hunting groups wither on the vine as leadership changes over time.”

“And other groups had eldritch horrors in their basements?”

Silvon shrugged, “I leave that to the ambassadors,” he said, “try asking them.”

“Antonia seemed surprised,” Cassidy brought up. Silvon did arch a brow there. Perhaps that was old enough to make him reconsider.

“And Amon?”

“Amon’s…Amon,” Cassidy didn’t really think he seemed surprised, though. “But the gem….”

“Ah, yeah,” he sighed, “Honestly, they seemed like they had an idea of what it was, and I thought I’d get some information if I kept track of them,” Silvon said, “I haven’t checked in on it in a while, though I suspect nothing new has come up or I’d be alerted to it.”

“Your…cats are spying on them?”

“Of course,” he chuckled, “They’ll know where it is, too. The cult moves around a bit, but they know what to watch for. No one really suspects a cat – if they notice it.” Cassidy couldn’t comment, because she was aware of cats, and knew to suspect them of all kinds of shit by now, thanks completely to Silvon.

“Then we should get to these cats—”

“Tomorrow,” he said, pushing away from the counter, “rest today, take in the area, and I’ll see that things are arranged for the meeting tomorrow. Or maybe the day after, if you want to go to that museum, or the gallery.”

“But—"

“Cats are fickle things, Cassidy,” he grinned, “would you like to meet them so soon, without warning?”

Cassidy knew he was saying he was fickle more than the cats…but the cats were also, probably, fickle. So she just sighed her resignation. “Tomorrow.”

~***~

Of course, Felix let Inga go on her own, with no warning to Antonia. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t hear Inga coming – the garage door had to be opened, and there were enough steps from the door to where Antonia worked that she heard Inga’s steps and her arrival.

But before that, in that peaceful silence of the garage with the cars that couldn’t speak, Antonia had ranted at August in Hebrew, because Latin was a dangerous language when she made sure certain people knew how to understand enough of it to get by. Or some people chose to learn it simply because she spoke it, rarely realizing the variant they learned was often wrong – ecclesiastical.

There was a learning curve to understanding classical from that. Possible – but annoying.

August heard the frustrations of Inga. Of Antonia’s “too late” feelings all around, both her too-late hatred for Inga after she had gotten to know her, and her too-late concern for Inga. Concern was the word she had for it, because that was what literally drove her to where Inga thought she would be dying. Concern too easily became a hundred other things, and she knew what Inga wanted.

Somehow that made it all the more difficult to even consider that path for it.

She was ever-spiteful.

But the tirade ran itself out with the click of the door, and Antonia was silent in cleaning the backseat, because of course she was still working on that, making it spotless. The entire car would be fully cleaned before she left the garage. Spotless. Incandescently beautiful.

Inga would find the garage fairly sparse to how the old one was. All the cars were there, but it was hardly as ornate or decorated. Antonia was still working on unpacking and decorating the new home.

“No,” she didn’t. She also didn’t want one. This was a fairly personal thing, no matter how simple it looked. It was a strange peace.

She probably would have found relief in just cleaning, in general, but she’d always had servants of some sort for that. It had been horses she had to herself. Now cars. It translated well enough that she didn’t let the servants clean her cars.

Gratitude followed, the vow along with it, and Antonia didn’t hide the snort, as if Inga’s vow was still something she didn’t believe in. That would be a lie. Inga’s dedication was proven already. Why, then? ‘Because I don’t get good things.’ Right. No matter how much Inga meant it, somehow, the vow would be broken. Perhaps the technicality of Joseph, but more likely, Inga would die, because that was what would bother Antonia.

No nice things.

And she knew this. That’s why she had no childes. That’s why she’d taken no vampire lovers. That’s why the Optimates had so few actual allies of the intemporal sort. Temporal things could be trusted. Not…well, what she and Inga were.

Because she started to believe it could last forever, when she knew better.

Inga wanted to spar.

Not really – but of course, really. It was as bad a cover as any, but Antonia let her ramble, because it was what Inga did best. Ramble about randos, ramble about needing a place, before she asked to stay in the garage, “Inga, I would sooner put a stake in your heart than let you – or anyone – stay in the garage. I love these cars more than I love Amon.” Which was stretching the truth, but some days it felt that way, when Amon got on her nerves.

That didn’t answer about her staying.

Or the sparring.

“I’ll have a room set up for you,” she allowed, “as for sparring, I do believe you’re a bit too wounded today to risk it. If my actions haven’t proven it, I’m not inclined to humor your suicidal ideations. However,” she never did look up from cleaning. It was convenient, that way. “with the hunter war as it is, I could use the practice myself, so I’m sure we can find time.”

It was the worst idea, because she also knew where that went – getting to know Inga better, having her around more often, all of these terrible things that led to bonds and affection. Yet, there she was, offering it under the same false pretenses of needing practice. Not that she didn’t need practice, but she aware it was just an excuse.

“Felix will be investigating the wolves, by the way. With other clans arriving, it won’t be hard to pinpoint which clan chose the wrong side. Then I’ll see what to do about them. They shouldn’t trouble you in the future.”

They would reconsider, or they would be dead.

Simple.

 

[Syntra]

Needless to say, Lilian also didn't look too impressed.

"So just because I haven't been around for as long, I can't tell when shit is fucked?" A familiar line of reasoning! Almost as if she had heard it before -- which, she kind of had. Deana had had her own version of it, as well as the other hunters, and they weren't even that much older than her, comparatively speaking. The message was always the same, though: 'You are just a dumb kid, so fall back in line.' Which, fine! Lilian was the last person to claim she was some kinda all-knowing sage, but she also refused to believe there was anyone who fit that description.

Not how that fucking worked.

Who said that Silvon couldn't learn something from them? He'd been sitting pretty in Vegas all this time, scamming the shit out of anyone too stupid to so much as look his way! And hey, not judging - but he hadn't fucking seen what they had seen. He hadn't so much as glanced at the evidence they'd amassed, either.

"Amon agreed that they are a problem," she rushed to Cassidy's aid, "So there's that. Also, he's helping us decipher some of the... weirder clues. The brain-melting ones." It was her theory that only those with brains that had already been melted could understand those, and that explained how Inga fit into the equation pretty well. By the same logic, Amon could bring a whole fucking lot to the table. "If you ask me, he seems pretty invested? That's a seal of approval if I've ever seen one." The holy fight against Apep was the main reason, but Lilian wasn't about to discredit her own argument via opening that can of worms.

(Was she learning the value of name-dropping? Maybe! Antonia would have been proud.)

Finally, finally this was going somewhere, and Lilian let out an agreeing hum. "One more day won't kill us, Cass." She didn't think, anyway. Yeah, yeah, the timer was a thing, but she refused to live her life waiting for it to go off. It could also happen five fucking seconds from now, so what was the point to panicking in advance? Might as well spend your time on the earth worrying about getting killed by a car! Or an angry dog. Or killed, in general. Always an issue, when you were mortal. "Let's rest for a bit."

And rest they did, until they didn't.

The next night, they went out to meet one of Silvon's agents, which... yeah, Lilian still couldn't quite believe they were about to deal with cat spies, of all things, but that was apparently what her life had devolved into. Not that it was something horrible!

"Man, my child self would have been overjoyed," she confessed to Cass as they left the hotel, "All the pretty lights and working with animals? Lil' Lilian would have killed to get a fraction of that. We couldn't have pets, because 'too much responsibility' and 'you're going to die, anyway.' They didn't say the latter, but they kind of... didn't have to."

After all, some implications were louder than words. That aspect of 'nobody wants to say it' definitely made it worse.

The night air was cold, though not unpleasant, and the city seemed as alive as any other city would have been during daytime, with streets bustling with people. Was that why Silvon had chosen it? She imagined a vampire might feel a little more normal here, and have that... community Cassidy had spoken of.

All the more reason to wonder why she'd left.

"Did you not like it here?" Lilian asked, glancing at Cass carefully. "Got tired of all the cats spying on you?"

"Rude," a white cat meowed near her feet, though the huntress, obviously, couldn't understand. "It's not spying when you just happen to be around and notice things, and then maybe tell someone. Is your friend also spying on people when she gossips with you?"

~***~

"And you don't believe I would guard them like I guard my own heart?" A bad comparison all around, and not only because of what had almost happened to her heart mere minutes ago, but mostly because Inga just didn't guard it too well, in general. Realizing this, she chuckled: "Okay, that would be a valid fear to have. I... haven't been too careful with it. But maybe that isn't so bad? Sheltered things die more quickly, so this is like, the perfect approach for longevity. Although I'm not too sure if this is true for cars as well, I wouldn't really drive one off a cliff to teach it a lesson."

She was stalling, yes, and talking about all the things that did not quite matter, because continuing to talk meant not giving Antonia an opening to reply. Not having to deal with the inevitable rejection, too. And wasn't that a handy little trick? Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. It'll be fine. Breathing technically wasn't needed anymore, but Inga still did so, as old instincts felt good. Soothing. Lungs were still lungs, and they remembered what they were for, even if they'd become obsolete somewhere along the way.

Just one of the things they had in common.

So, yes, Inga did expect to be rejected. Some feelings being there did not have to translate into a willingness to act on them, and this was... foolish. Everything about it.

Except--

She said we. As in, I and her.

Somehow, that stood out even more than her agreeing. Than Antonia wanting to have her around, and letting her stay.

Inga couldn't quite help the grin, despite knowing it must have made her look like a total idiot. "Oh, we should," she said, "It's the responsible thing to do. The hunters won't kill themselves, will they? And also, they aren't suicidal ideations if all I'm trying to do is go home."

Because, yes, that was the crux of it. There were other things as well, most of which Inga didn't really want to get into, but it was true that she hadn't felt at home since her death. It... wasn't even the passage of time? Many older vampires were affected by that, complaining of the strange disconnectedness that came with seeing your world die a little more every day, but it just hadn't felt that way for her. Never, not once. For Inga, the disconnect had been quick; a clearly defined 'before' and 'after,' as easy to see as it was easy to tell day apart from night. Her world had disappeared in an instant. Now, what had she gotten in return?

A sire that didn't know her, a family that didn't want her, and finally, the cruelest of cruel curses: a shitload of time to do absolutely nothing with, aside from contemplating it all.

Maybe she'd just been doing immortality wrong, though? There were nice things, occasionally, and if there could be more nice things... If, if, if. A small word, for so many possibilities!

In the end, it did cause her to shrug: "But I'm running late anyway, so why bother? The mead is cold already, and it's not getting any colder. They can call me when the apocalypse comes." That was as close to saying 'I'm staying if I can help it' as it would ever get, and not only because Inga didn't quite know how to say it directly.

Directness may not have been the best answer, here. People knew Inga as the definition of unsubtle, but that was because it suited her, rather than it being the 100% truth. Yes, she was that person; but she was also the person who, behind the closed door of her lab, sat in complete silence, adding the reagent drop by drop, and observed the slightest changes with the kind of patience that was seemingly endless. Different situations, different approaches!

And something told her that Antonia was like, well, like one of those experiments where a drop too much could fuck the whole thing up beyond recognition. Beyond repair, too. So, she would be patient, and not push too much, and let her dictate the pace, whatever it ended up being.

"Hm?" Inga raised one eyebrow. "Poor dears. That was some unfortunate decision-making, in choosing to support Veturia of all people. Do let me know the results, though! I would love to meet some family friends."

To interrogate, torture, and probably kill them. You know, the usual family things! At least when you happened to be a Veturia.

"Although," she continued, "I confess, I'm far more interested in those daggers. What are they? I'm pretty sure they were around even before the Cain mess," the stories of them had been, at least, "And that holds some interesting implications. If they can hurt us like that, I would wager there's some link to the god? Shared... origins, or whatever. Perhaps a shared weakness, too." No, Inga didn't believe for a second that something as flimsy as 'blessing' could make her bleed like a pig. Words just weren't this powerful! But mysterious metals could be. "We should totally get our hands on one of those. The war - that screams opportunity, to me. How is it going, anyway?"

Admittedly, Inga had been out of the loop.

 

[Lucyfer]

Child Lilian sounded like just about every child, which was somehow weird for Cassidy to consider, given the brainwashing. Still, it was kind of nice, as they walked the sidewalk along the path of beautifully lit buildings, eccentrically dressed people, loud music, and all sorts of sights to take even. Even Cassidy could admit, after so long, Vegas was still a bit overwhelming to the senses.

It also wasn’t only humans easily milling on the street. Lilian was right about one thing – it was easier to feel normal in a place like this. “Well, adult you can still enjoy it,” Cassidy said, even if she still felt some anxiety to hurry things up and not enjoy it. Part of that – a huge part – was indeed Lilian’s timetable. The other part was the ever-present, strange relationship she had with Silvon.

She just chuckled at Lilian’s question, “I’ve always preferred traveling every few years,” which wasn’t a lie, “There’s so much, and I’ve barely seen anything.” Although seeing spying cats was not new to her, it still took her a moment to register the presence, and that it had actually spoken to her.

She had to rewind the noises back to try and single out when it began, and failed pretty dismally. Something about spying. Something about not liking it – although cat tones were hard to pick out, so maybe not? Cassidy groaned, more frustrated with herself than the cat. “Sorry,” she said to the white cat, “I didn’t catch all of that, ah, it’s…it’s been a while, and it’s loud. Also, gossip is different from spying.”

Sure, one could gossip about things they’d seen that others were unaware of, but the two weren’t mutually exclusive. “I’m Cassidy. This is Lilian. You have a place we can go talk?” Not that talking to a cat on the street was the strangest thing in Las Vegas, but it’d be better for all involved if they were somewhere out of the way.

She had thought she knew where she was going.

Maybe she was on the right track, or maybe the cat noticed she walked right away from the right path and came to get her. She had put on one of her off-white cowboy hats, after all. Both to make her recognizable, and because it was Vegas. She could get away with it here, with absolutely no problems whatsoever.

And she did like it.

Still.

She translated to Lilian…a bit, “I think the cat was commenting on our conversation about, uh, spies.” Which was…fitting.

~***~

‘If you’re trying to die, it’s suicidal, Inga.’ Antonia didn’t care for whatever flowery language she hid it behind, promises of a Heaven, Elysium, Valhalla – death was death, and wanting it was suicide. ‘You won’t enjoy the mead any longer, Inga.’ She was a vampire. Perhaps in Inga’s head, when she died, she became human again, with a human soul, and human ways.

Perhaps it would even be true. Antonia didn’t know.

Antonia knew she’d lived over 2,000 years as a vampire, though. If she was human after dying, she would be royally pissed off. It wasn’t her, any longer. In truth, it almost felt like it never had been.

But she let Inga have her foolish delusions. Why not? She humored Amon. And when Inga finally felt like acting on her suicidal dreams, perhaps she would have found the ties to cut. People very rarely got better with time, and Antonia was fantastic at sabotage. She would just…find all the reasons to dislike Inga. Grow tired of her.

The war was more relevant. So were daggers. “Oh, I have some, and yes, from times before Apep was discovered. I’ve worked with hunters for a very long time, Inga.” Hunters had always been innovative, enough that Antonia never bothered to believe that they just rubbed some holy water on a blade and it worked. Her friends knew better than to tell a vampire, even her, the truth. “There’s probably one or two from this current war,” little trophies to carry along from house to house.

To use if necessary. They never could just make a full-sized sword, could they? “I can have them brought to your room if you want to look at some. The war itself,” she gave a dismissive wave. In truth, it was hard to say, “Michael has busied himself with my life, and the vampires here don’t know war.”

Strange words from a talker.

“They try to micromanage every detail, and I doubt learning about Apep is going to make them realize war is not something you can control every detail of before attacking. They’ve known peace too long.” Antonia…hadn’t had a day’s peace since. Nor Amon, it seemed, as he was quite willing to dive into dangerous situations and encourage them.

Others were not.

“We have hit a few of their havens, but none are willing to commit to striking the bars where Apep’s essence is kept, nor their headquarters,” Antonia rolled her eyes, “they want to make sure to preserve anything of use. They don’t seem to realize deprivation of use could be more important.”

Not just of the essence, but also of whatever Michael had. Yes, Antonia would love to get her hands on more information, but she’d rather start scattering and destroying every safe spot Michael thought he had, rather than give him time to gather it all up and stow it elsewhere. Which, by now, he honestly probably had – something she’d pointed out at the last war council, to no one being concerned.

Time flowed differently for vampires.

Too many forgot that humans worked on very different time scales.

Peace, and time away from being human, ruined them. “But, something will wake them up eventually,” Antonia said, “ideally it’ll be the death of several of the more annoying ones all at once, but I’m not generally that lucky.” So probably not.

There was little else to say about the war effort, or about Michael. The night turned to day. Antonia eventually finished with August, only to spend the day fiddling with numbers and pretending Inga wasn’t somewhere resting – hopefully resting, at any rate. There were a few calls to make, more meetings to plan, before night would fall, and be almost immediately interrupted after she made sure Inga did have blood – and they had planned some time to meet for spars.

Antonia was still not giving in to that night. Inga had just been injured.

“Antonia,” it was Cassandra that interrupted, sighing, “There’s a bit of a problem.”

“Hm?”

“Some vampire is here for Inga.”

“Friend or foe?”

“Not sure. Felix has her in custody.” That explained why it wasn’t Felix relaying the information. “Shall I tell Inga?”

“Yes. Did you get a name?”

“Maya?”

Unfamiliar. “Where’s Felix?”

“In the atrium.”

Antonia nodded and made her way to it, to see who this Maya was that dared to come to her place for Inga. How she knew Inga was here was a problem. So was the fact someone she didn’t know was here in her home, and she didn’t know who the hell they were.

Felix did at least appear to have it well under control, considering Maya was already in bonds, and didn’t look terribly wounded. Antonia nodded a brief greeting to him before letting her eyes meet the stranger’s. “How did you know Inga was here?” No point denying she was. Inga would certainly be showing up to either kill whoever this was, or make some other exclamation.

That Inga could have friends seemed an impossibility, but maybe it was someone who helped Inga when she was being productive, mutual curiosities – like with the daggers.

Odds were better this was someone who wanted to kill Inga, though.

 

[Syntra]

There’s something else as well, though, isn’t it? While Lilian wasn’t a mind-reader, she’d pretty much have to be blind to… well, not notice the weird tensions. To write all the hints off as unimportant. For better or worse, she did know how to pay attention; far too often, the little ‘coincidences’ were just part of a bigger pattern, and ignoring those fucking got you killed. It also didn’t help that this instance of it wasn’t even hidden all that well. Cassidy just… sort of pretended it wasn’t there? Which, for the record, only made it all the more glaring! In the same way that not referring to a hideous fake gold statue in an otherwise fancy minimalist apartment just made it stand out that much more.

(Nobody liked a busybody, though. Was Lilian curious? More than she could say! But Cass was also welcome to her secrets, especially when they screamed personal. Silvon’s ambiguously assholish ways had obviously caused some friction, and dealing with that streak from someone you generally liked could be hard. She, herself, still didn’t know what to think of Maria.)

“Makes sense,” the huntress said non-committally, “I think I’d like to travel as well if I could.” If. And, well, what was stopping her now? The answer was ‘nothing,’ theoretically speaking, but sometimes, there was nothing quite as removed from practice as a good theory. You could take the hunter out of the organization, yes; taking out the organization out of the hunter was harder. Lilian had seen that with Deana, and, to a smaller extent, with herself as well. It was… still sort of strange? Not just seizing the opportunities, but realizing they were a thing in the first place. That life didn’t have to pass you by anymore, the same way it always had, because you were always lowkey waiting to die.

Of course, Lilian was still doing that. Not like she really could pursue her dreams of becoming a Hawaii surfer with the god’s little gift, now could she?

But, ideally, that wasn’t permanent. There could be a future beyond that, now.

“You know, once we’re done with all of this, traveling for fun could be nice. I always did want to see shit like the pyramids,” the Egyptian ones, not the imitations Amon apparently enjoyed so much, “and the Easter Island heads. People built some fascinating shit. I wonder if, five hundred years from now, everyone will be as mystified by skyscrapers?” A beat, “Eh, probably not. Those are just… buildings that are real fucking tall. No story behind those.”

A fascinating analysis! The thought experiment did distract her, though, and so it took her a while to realize that Cassidy was… already talking to a cat. Huh.

The animal, meanwhile, didn’t look too impressed. “Oh gods, not a beginner. Beginners are the worst, with their beginner ways. And sure, I totally have a five-star hotel available! Or I could have one, if Silvon weren’t such a party pooper about it,” clearly, this cat had Opinions, “Allergies, pfft. Can you imagine a stupider excuse? People run cat cafés nowadays, but nooo, a cat hotel is apparently a stretch! A missed opportunity, if you ask me. Customers would have loved to pet us.”

“She… looks upset,” Lilian observed.

“He,” the cat corrected, “But I’ll let it slide. For the species that runs the planet, you humans sure can be pretty fucking stupid sometimes. Anyway – sure, follow me.”

Lilian had questions, but since they were mostly of the ‘where the fuck are we going’ variety, they answered themselves pretty soon.

“Is this a dump?” Perhaps too strong of a word, though the contrast with pretty much everything else she’d seen in Vegas was rather dramatic. The dustbins… didn’t look too scenic? And certainly didn’t smell like fucking daisies! Likely a feature, not a bug, given that Cassidy had specifically asked for privacy, but Lilian didn’t think it had to be bought with their dignity.

“Real sharp, that friend of yours,” the cat smirked. “Keeps dropping those truth bombs! So, what did you want to talk about?”

~***~

Yay for weird hunter daggers! Well, not necessarily yay – it was yay in the same way that finding a weird-looking tumor could be yay, if it a) didn’t grow in your body, b) you happened to be interested in tumors. Thankfully, Inga was the tumor connoisseur in that metaphor, “Can I borrow one, then?” she lit up. “I don’t think looking at it is going to do much, but I can try to determine its composition and go from there. Maybe I’ll even discover something relevant!”

Speaking of, it seemed many of their kin went for irrelevance instead. Irrelevance and stupidity! “A shame they chose to be such cowards,” Inga sighed. “I mean, really? This is what they decide to do with their eternal lives?” As if her choices were much better, “One would have thought that they’d learn more than to just forget literally everything about their survival instincts, but here we are.” Another self-own, had Inga’s self-awareness stat been even slightly higher. Good thing it was as low as it was!

(Well, was and wasn’t. Ignoring things and not realizing things weren’t remotely the same, even if Inga did sometimes use them interchangeably. A good sleight of hand always involved some misdirection.)

“But – if you’re so inclined, that can be a thing? The annoying ones dying. Lady Fortune favors the prepared,” a wide smile, “And if they can’t be bothered to prepare adequately for a war, can they really blame her for turning away from them? They’re asking for it, more or less.” The correct, sane choice would have been not to say any of that, but Inga also wasn’t too notorious for her correct, sane choices. Besides, didn’t it only make sense? She was killing the Veturia already, so adding one or two more people to the list felt like… well, like buying some booze when you were already going to the supermarket. Efficiency, ladies and gentlemen!

Also not knowing when to stop.

Yes, Inga was pretty sure she’d burn down the world down if Antonia asked her to.

A hint would have been enough, too.

Either way, there wasn’t much else to discuss, and as much as Inga hated to admit it, the injury still felt like an injury. So, she said goodbye to Antonia and allowed the staff to lead her to her room, thinking of the first night she’d spent at Antonia’s and the… differences, between now and then. Between who they’d been and who they were, hopefully.

Wasn’t it funny how quickly things could change? She’d observed that strange impermanence, time and time again, but never really with herself. Her life had been the one constant in everything; stagnant, stale, always-the-same, more like the horizon than the flowing rivers. The thing was, landscapes changed as well, and she did begin to realize that.

Antonia would have been proud to know that Inga did, in fact, spend most of her time resting. There wasn’t much else to do, for one; the temptation to explore the house wasn’t stronger than the need to behave herself, now that fucking up could actually cost her something. But, most of all? She still felt more fucked up than not. Lying around was nice, until—

“Maya?” Inga gave Cassandra an incredulous look, “Here?”

~***~

Some hours ago

Stupid Inga, with her stupid fucking plans!

Calling it a plan was actually generous, because that implied the existence of a Step B beyond a Step A. Meanwhile, Maya was fairly certain that even her Step A was little more than ‘wing it.’

Why won’t you respond, you absolute buffoon?

She was leaning over the counter and hypnotizing the screen of her phone, waiting for that little letter icon to pop up.

It didn’t.

Didn’t, didn’t, and didn’t, and, once again, didn’t.

It would have been easier had she not had to come up with those ridiculous excuses to ask her one. normal. question., but she had already accepted… well, the difficulties that came with Inga being Inga. Or, at least she thought she had? Until her suicidal quest had somehow devolved into an infinitely worse version of it, with her apparently going out of her way to piss off her entire fucking clan. And for what?

Some chick, if the memes were accurate!

The worst thing was that, yes, it did check out, and yes, Maya could totally see it. It wasn’t that Inga acted out like this often, or that she fell for random women easily, but the sheer derangement of it all did feel like the next logical step in her harebrained schemes.

That the chick in question was the epitome of bad news only made it sound more believable.

Antonia Lenart, of the Optimates? Really?

‘Inga, for the last fucking time: ANSWER OR FACE MY WRATH!‘

Fine, maybe she was acting a little too emotional for someone whose initial premise had been contacting her because she reeeeally needed to know if Inga wanted to buy some discounted phenolphthalein, but Maya believed it would hold up.

For someone so smart, Inga could also be pretty dumb.

Dumb enough to truly get herself killed over someone who didn’t care at all.

Although, was she really the one to talk? Because, despite fucking knowing better, Maya found herself all but racing towards the exit.

I fucking swear, Inga. If you’re dead, I’ll find a way to bring you back just to yell at you some more!

Back to the present

Alright, that… hadn’t gone over too well. Not that Maya had expected it to, mind you; unlike her friend, she wasn’t a fighter, and she wasn’t an acter. She was perhaps the biggest antithesis to both of those, but what she did have was an ability to be sneaker than most. The biggest revelation of the evening, though? That her usual tricks didn’t quite work on werewolves.

Just my luck, she thought, the one time I get involved, and it ends up like this.

Perhaps interacting with Inga on a long-term basis really did give you Darwin award ambitions, even if Maya wasn’t all that convinced there was a vampire version of it.

Well, at least they didn’t want to off her immediately? Which could be both good and bad thing, depending on how much the owner of the obnoxious-looking mansion reveled in torture.

The redhead didn’t introduce herself, though she also didn’t have to. The air of authority around her told Maya everything that she needed to know, which, essentially, was the she was the Big Boss here.

Names were unimportant, in the grand scheme of things.

Maya lifted her gaze and looked the woman straight in the eye, “Clairvoyance,” she blurted out. “I asked the gods and they answered. Is that what ya wanted to hear?” Likely not, and the response definitely wasn’t winning her any favors. “I mean, I’m just tracking her phone because she’s dumb and into dumb, dangerous shit and where the fuck is she? She’s been ignoring me for ages!” Perhaps saying so outright wasn’t the smartest move. Getting caught also wasn’t the smartest move, though, and she honestly couldn’t think of a way to make her situation even worse. As for finding a way to make it better: “Just so you know, I’ve told all my friends where I’m going,” not even a lie, “And if I don’t return, you’ll be in even bigger trouble.”

Not that her being there, bound, was much trouble. But it could be! Just watch her spin the narrative!

How, though?

And then, then the idea emerged, as insane as it was promising: “Antonia Lenart won’t like it if we get hurt, either.”

Whoever this was, she likely assumed Inga acted with her blessing… right? Yeah, could work. Better than nothing!

 

[Lucyfer]

Traveling for fun would be nice, though Cassidy wondered how they’d manage it. It wasn’t like Antonia would pay them to do stuff forever. Well, unless Cassidy decided to work for her, but that would be traveling on Antonia’s schedule…probably not worth it. Also, not something she could give much thought to as the cat insulted her for being a beginner, and was apparently upset that he wouldn’t create a cat hotel. ‘If you have him ask Amon….’

Maybe bring that up if she needed to.

“He’s upset about not having a cat hotel,” Cassidy explained to Lilian, “which sounds like the kind of thing Amon would fund,” well, apparently that was brought up now, “maybe he already has,” she wouldn’t put it by him. It was probably pyramid shaped, as well. Or sphinx shaped. Not the point!

The point was why they were there!

Cassidy sighed at the not at all subtle insult towards Lilian, “We’re trying to find a jewel that Silvon sold,” Cassidy explained, “he said that some of you were looking in on the cult that bought it. Do you know anything about some of you watching over a cult?” did the cat know what cult even meant?

Honestly, Cassidy was often surprised by how well animals could grasp concepts.

And then disappointed by the concepts that eluded them. Apparently, this cat in particular understood a lot, knowing about cat cafes and what Five Star Hotel meant – but this was Vegas, that was probably par for the course. Everyone dreamt of luxury here, and getting lucky, after all. Why not the cats, too?

~***~

‘No, this is definitely a friend of Inga’s.’ Antonia’s opinion changed as soon as ‘clairvoyance’ was blurted out, although she adopted a bored expression. The woman still chose to elaborate, apparently having the skill to track Inga’s phone, which was a nuisance. It was more of a nuisance that she told other people where she was, even if that wasn’t going to amount to anything. Inga would confirm they were friends, and this charade could end.

Which was…well, a shame, if Antonia was honest, as soon as her own name spilled from Maya’s lips. She didn’t dare to cast a knowing look at Felix. ‘This werewolf thing is getting out of hand. How many others in this town are working with them that I’m not immediately recognizable?’ That was actually disappointing. She liked her monopoly on hunters and wolves alike, just as Amon enjoyed his monopoly on law enforcement.

Well, until Inga put an end to it, she may as well have a little fun at this woman’s expense. It was her own fault she didn’t do her research. Antonia’s images were out there. If you were going to name drop someone, it was best to know how they looked.

“Oh, she won’t?” Antonia stepped forward, “You believe Lady Lenart is going to admit to having anyone working with her to kill Veturia? We all know she’s doing it,” that damnable proof was the problem, wasn’t it? “She’ll see you all die before she owns any of it. Oh, sure,” she waved a dismissive hand, “She may try something in secret, but bereft of her hunters, and ridden of her precious murderess, I daresay it’ll amount to much that threatens me.”

Antonia took a knee in front of poor bound Maya to be at eye level with her, given Felix hadn’t let her stand in her bonds. “But, perhaps we can cut a deal. If you give me the proof Lady Lenart is doing any of this, I’ll let you go…and Inga, in I suppose what passes for a…living condition.”

Fun? Yes.

Inga was a terrible influence.

 

[Syntra]

"A... cat hotel?" Lilian raised her eyebrow. "If I were him, I'd be more upset over the obvious mange. What, does Silvon never take them to the vet? Not that I'm too shocked, but this seems irresponsible. You can't have an army of cats just... walking around, like they're going to take care of themselves."

The comment was well-meaning, but the cat looked as if Lilian had just suggested for them to murder his entire family and sacrifice them to the dark gods. "The vet!" he cried out. "That word is forbidden here, human. Many a brother of mine learned what foul, treacherous creatures those are. They are helping you in one moment, and then, bam! Before you know it, your family jewels are gone. Well, guess what? At least the parasites don't fucking do that. I'll just... take my chances with those."

"Let me guess," the huntress folded her arms over her chest, "He didn't like that, either? Boo fucking hoo! Do you think I enjoy going to the dentist's, pal? I don't, but I do enjoy having my teeth. Presumably, you enjoy being alive, so stop with this edgy nonsense."

Had Lilian expected to spend her night lecturing a cat over the benefits of modern healthcare? No. Did she like it? Also no! But it was also strangely affirming to have her life slightly more together than literally anyone else, and that feeling had become rare enough for her not to question its source.

For sanity reasons.

After all, that 'someone' being a mangy stray would have tanked what remained of her battered self-confidence.

The cat didn't deem that worthy a response, and instead looked straight at Cassidy. "Does she have to be here? What's the chick even for, emotional support? Because she's not supporting my emotions," obviously, there were no other emotions that deserved support, "And I didn't come here to listen to vet apologia."

Lilian breaking that taboo apparently didn't put them on them on the cat's shitlist, though! Because it sure as hell didn't stop him from answering questions. "Oh, that thing?" he tilted his head aside. "Hmm, hmm. Yeah, can't say I know anything. Pete worked on that case," a flick of the tail, "So he'd be able to tell you more. The sad thing is, Pete went poof. Disappeared on an undercover mission. A tragedy, really, but I can't afford to lose more good cats, so..."

Oh, geez. It was obvious where this was going, wasn't it?

"You may wanna look for him yourselves. I'll give you a fair warning, though - just because you're Silvon's girl. Pete... got himself involved in something real dangerous." If the cat even slightly could, he'd likely be smoking a cigar by now, to stress just how serious and totally mafia-like this was. Unfortunately, this pleasure was reserved for humans only.

"His plan was to secure steady food supply from the local McDonald's."

~***~

Oh, god. Oh, fuck! Who would have guessed that verbal shitposting had consequences? Consequences such as people pointing out the obvious holes in your narrative? Because, as far as Maya could tell, Antonia Lenart really wasn't a Batman-type millionaire. No, nobody would call her a bleeding heart philanthrope. More than that, she seemed to be the 'fuck you' kind, who didn't care for a single living soul beyond herself.

Of course she wouldn't bother to save Inga!

Although, to be fair, Antonia... probably didn't even know what Inga was doing. Or rather, she did know, but had little to do with that. Could she really blame her for Inga's tendency to always, always go for the most dangerous shit imaginable?

Likely not.

But also, Maya wasn't giving up on the tiny sliver of hope she had. Antonia's name had done something, for sure; the bait was right, even if the angle wasn't. She would make this work, dammit!

Somehow.

"You think so? Well, think again because me and Antonia go back a long way. We're... practically sisters!" Uh huh, super trustworthy, "You'd be surprised at the lengths she'd go for us, hunters or not."

Of course, her captor wouldn't be so easily convinced, and instead of letting her go like a decent fucking person, she... had a proposition to make. A pretty spicy proposition, too. Jesus fucking Christ, and right after I called her my sister. Way to increase my credibility! "How do I know Inga is even alive, though?" Maya shot right back. "I... could obviously prove that, but I'm not about to buy a corpse. Plus, it's not like I wear incriminating evidence in my pocket just in case I stumble into someone who might want to exchange it for my life," that, at least, was convincing, "So you'd have to release me first."

That was the moment Inga chose to stroll into the room, looking way more alive than she had any right to be. The bloodstained shirt spoke of an interesting night, but in the same way that scars did, in that it was clearly an old thing. For a prisoner, she was also... disturbingly free to wander around? As in, not chained at all?

What?

Naturally, the feelings of 'what' only grew in intensity when Inga opened her mouth. That wasn't... new, but the flavor of it certainly was.

"Thirty-five messages, Maya?" she asked, instead of a normal greeting. "Over phenolphthalein? A bit of an overkill. I wouldn't complain if it was something more lucrative, but come the fuck on. I could buy phenolphthalein at a grocery store!" Well, almost, "Sorry for the delay, though. I muted my phone because I was too busy dying," a shrug, as if that was a commonplace occurrence, "Which I would have done, if not for Antonia here."

Several emotions showed on Maya's face at the same time, ranging from 'what the fuck' to 'no, really, what the fuck?'

Then she settled on 'I am fucked,' for some reason.

"This chick... is Antonia?"

"Yeah, who did you think it was? Santa Claus?"

Why Maya suddenly looked like she wanted to die was beyond Inga, but she also freely admitted that there were many things she didn't quite understand about the woman. This was just... another piece in that colorful mosaic.

Right, moving on!

"Oh, and hi, Antonia," Inga lit up, "Care to explain what's going on?"

 

[Lucyfer]

‘Cats are actually pretty independent.’ Most also didn’t get mange just from existing on the outside, but this one clearly had some Opinions about all things healthy and sanitary. It seemed odd to her that Silvon was having the cats neutered, or spade, so she wondered if this one just picked it up from others not quite in with Silvon.

Or if Silvon had changed his opinions on that.

“The cat actually doesn’t want to get neutered, which apparently the vets just do,” Cassidy said for Lilian’s benefit, “I can’t really blame him for that.” She wouldn’t have wanted to be sterilized against her will which…she kinda was, if she thought about the vampirism thing too hard. Yet another reason not to do that.

Besides which, she didn’t want kids of that sort. Now, and probably not back then, either.

Cassidy chose not to answer the cat about whether or not Lilian had to be there. Mostly for Lilian’s sake, and because he moved on quickly enough. “He doesn’t know much about the stone, though. Pete,” and she couldn’t help the absolutely exasperated sigh, “was working on that and also working on getting McDonald’s to supply them with food, but he’s gone missing.”

Which meant they had to find Pete.

Even if Pete was probably not the only cat on this case, Cassidy knew how this worked.

“Okay, so we’ll try to find Pete for you,” she agreed, “can you tell us anything about his disappearance? Anything strange he talked about before?” Cassidy could too easily imagine this ending up with them interviewing the McDonald’s employees to see if anyone picked up poor stray Pete and then claiming it was her own cat.

Or something.

It had to be something that simple.

How did cats even arrange food supplies with fast food restaurants?

~***~

Practically sisters? Oh good lord, anyone who knew an inkling about her knew the only person that close was Amon. Antonia was fairly certain she had a reputation for not having close vampire friends outside of the Optimates, and even then…well, the distance was mutual for a lot of them, scarred by the events of the past. Not all – some were clingier, but they found others to bother.

Antonia’s expression managed not to break though she could see Felix floundering, fighting a smile and a laugh.

Thankfully, Inga showed up to relieve him, and give the big reveal herself, letting Antonia rise and step back away from the so-dubbed Maya. Maya’s expression was perfectly priceless, and as Inga asked what was going on, Felix finally lost it, released Maya from her bonds, and walked out of the room laughing his head off, deciding he wasn’t needed any longer.

Antonia kept a grin on her face as she said, “Apparently, Inga, this is my dearest sister, Maya,” she couldn’t help the intonations for emphasis. “It’s just so strange we’ve never met before, but who am I to argue with someone who claims we go way back, and has such delicious blackmail on me.” Not that she believed for an instant that Maya had ever intended to deliver on anything. She wanted to see Inga to figure an escape plan for them both, without paying anything up.

Antonia waved it off, “She tried to break into my home looking for you. I assume she heard what happened to Kirana and got worried.” What else could drive her to such an insane plot? The…whatever that word was that Inga just used, was likely just a cover for the worry. “As you can see, she’s perfectly all right.”

Well…as close to perfect as passed for Inga, really.

“I suggest next time you do some research on those you’re about to name drop,” Antonia added. “Most won’t be as…generous as I was with your little game,” to Inga, she added, “I am having company today, Maxwell called to let me know he got into town. You can stay and recover if you need, catch up with Maya – but I wanted to make you aware I’d be hosting some hunters from elsewhere, so try not to spook them.”

They knew better, but they didn’t deserve to be tested.

 

[Syntra]

“I… haven’t thought of that,” Lilian admitted. The difference in perspective, ladies and gentlemen! Because if visiting the dentist equaled to the possibility of mutilation, she… probably also would have thought twice about it. You’ve got a point, furball.

“Of course you haven’t,” the cat scoffed. “That’s not what you humans are for. The real sad thing is, you don’t even do the things you are supposed to do! Like worshiping us. Lemme tell ya, things have been getting more and more shit since ancient Egypt. Is this what you call evolution?”

Lilian, meanwhile, was beginning to get a little bored with the whole thing. Talking to animals was exciting; standing by and watching someone else do so wasn’t. This was like… like watching a weird French movie without subtitles! Although, considering the fuckery French movies tended to revolve around, the huntress supposed that that would have actually been an improvement. “Cass, please, tell me he’s cooperating so that we can go throttle some cultists.” It wasn’t that Lilian craved the violence per se, but it was something she was good at. It was also… the simple thing. The action movie-adjacent section!

Find the bad guys; punch enough of them; collect the prize. Kickstart the process of unfucking her entirely fucked up life as well, hopefully. Straightforward enough, right?

Too straightforward for it to be remotely close to reality.

“What,” Lilian half-said, half-asked. “McDonald’s? Fucking… McDonald’s? Yeah, no vet is supervising this for sure. You wanna kill yourself with food, mate? This shit is bad enough for us humans, so I don’t even want to think about what it does to you.” And yes, she knew she was focusing on the least outlandish part of the whole affair, but Lilian hadn’t yet emotionally accepted that she was… about to play the animal detective for the cat mafia.

Coping mechanisms worked in mysterious ways.

The cat rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the dietary advice. But sure, let me think! Hmm, hmm. Pete… may have mentioned a new contact? Someone who could talk to him. I honestly thought he was full of it, because Pete always kept telling those ridiculous stories, but it may not have been bullshit this time?” Yeah, sounded real convincing, “Apparently he was meeting him in the Caesar’s Palace casino, and he disappeared three days later.”

~***~

Worried? Pfft, Maya didn’t get worried. Not about her. More than likely, she had just… been bored… and decided to risk her life for no reason, because that was what people like Maya did whenever there was nothing else to do. Obviously! Always living on the edge, that one. With her… accountant logs, which Inga knew for sure weren’t stored in alphabetical order. Also with her dangerous habit of sometimes not tying her shoelaces properly.

Yeeeah, even her excuse mill was beginning to run out of wind, and Inga wasn’t quite delusional enough not to see that. At some point, you just had to admit you were full of shit. Full of shit, and wrong, and all those not-so-wonderful things, which… didn’t actually have to be so bad, in the right context.

Was this the right kind of context?

Maybe.

After all, it wasn’t terrible to find out that you mattered to some people. Two in the span of two nights! Shocking. Shocking, but also maybe not, because Inga could admit to herself that a lot of the things that she hadn’t noticed had been ignored more than anything else. Her radar had been calibrated… badly, in many aspects.

“Oh gods,” Inga giggled, “You were worried about me. But that’s the worst infiltration job I have ever seen, Maya! Zero out of ten. Next time, you might as well put some green dye on and pretend you’re a cactus.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning to get caught!” Maya said to Antonia, ignoring her friend for now, “And I couldn’t think of anyone else important enough that Inga could be close to.” Her cheeks were still colored red, but some of her usual haughtiness had already returned, and you could see that in the way she balled her fists.

You could also see that in the way she walked over to Inga and punched her in the stomach.

“Ouch?”

Inga sounded more surprised than hurt, which did check out. Maya was vampire strong, but not strong strong, and she’d honestly hurt herself worse on accident before. It probably hurt Maya more, if only because her gut-punching technique was pretty shit. Like, had she never heard of the ‘don’t cover your thumb’ axiom? That was Hurting People 101!

Although, she was better at using her words as weapons, “Too busy dying? Inga Singedottir, you empty-headed piece of shit! You drop that bomb and then you have the nerve to criticize me?”

“I, uh, I’m sorry? I thought it was a foregone conclusion? You know, me dying at some point. It wasn’t that interesting.”

Probably not the words Maya wanted to hear, judging from her expression. “Oh, you will be sorry,” she reassured her, “Now go back to your room so that I can kick your ass in peace.”

“But—”

“No buts!”

Amazingly enough, Inga… looked like she was ready to obey? “Fine,” she capitulated, “But Antonia, I sure would like to see that Maxwell guy. Can’t hurt to coordinate our moves, if I’m to get involved in the whole hunter war business.”

“As much as it hurts to admit, she’s right about one thing,” Maya said, once Inga fucked off, “It is a foregone conclusion. I honestly thought this was just… one of her weird personal crusades, but you do seem to be involved? And it looks like you care? So, why are you having her do all that?”

 

[Lucyfer]

‘This is clearly why cats like Amon.’ Cassidy made a mental note to actually tune in next time. Their words were probably quite hilarious, and probably still also very unsatisfied, because were cats ever satisfied? None that Cassidy knew, though she tended to know…well…ferals. Not well-fed housecats.

And they liked McDonald’s, which apparently Lilian had qualms with. Cassidy put her face in her hands at the back and forth between the two – even if Lilian couldn’t understand the cat. ‘Let the cats live a little.’ Was it really that bad? Cassidy…honestly didn’t know. She didn’t research human nutrition. Or cat nutrition.

Or any nutrition.

They didn’t make nutrition printouts for vampires. Maybe they should! Maybe there was a better science to all of this! Why was no one getting on that?

Not the point right now.

Cassidy looked up, “Is this another one of Silvon’s childes? Or…related?” she wondered, but supposed the cat would have mentioned that if they were sure. Cassidy could only groan at the thought, and explained to Lilian, “Pete the cat was meeting with someone at Caesar’s Palace who could also talk to animals. Which…these things run in bloodlines, if that wasn’t already obvious. Silvon’s not like the Amon here, so it could be a cousin or something – but still related. Probably.”

There were mutations.

Changes.

Oddities.

“We’ll go take a look at Caesar’s Palace, and I’ll bother Silvon if any of the others are here.” She didn’t know most of them herself, so that was somewhat problematic. She knew the vast majority didn’t cleave to any clan – family ties were their own thing, but they were no Valencia.

Valencia was the real fucking mafia of the vampires.

~***~

It was no surprise that Maya couldn’t think of anyone important that Inga might have known. Inga was clanless; they didn’t usually have connections notable enough unless they were in really good with Tristan, who remained the official, unofficial leader of the clanless. It was also no surprise that violence remained the norm of expression amongst Inga’s friends, as Maya went over and punched Inga in a way that obviously didn’t hurt.

She let them have their spat.

That was the intent in dismissing them, though she noted that Maya dismissed Inga, which clearly meant she wasn’t at all done with Antonia herself yet. So, the Roman waited for Maya to be satisfied with Inga’s departure, only noting to Inga a, “We’ll see,” about Maxwell. They weren’t doing much coordinating that night, so much as catching him up on the situation and learning his situation. It had been a decade or so, after all.

Hunters’ didn’t typically last this long – even good ones.

Maya’s question wasn’t a strange one, really. Any good friend would ask. It meant that Inga hadn’t confessed her sins, which wasn’t much of a surprise, really. It left Antonia to wonder what she should and shouldn’t say, although assumed she was also the reason Inga was silent on the matter. Well, that, and she was committing atrocities. Maya could very well turn on Inga. On Antonia, for that matter.

“I’m afraid I don’t know you from Eve, Maya, so forgive me if I do not speculate much about another’s reasonings.”

It was as much as she’d say on that. “You care for Inga enough to try and threaten a stranger with my name. Foolish, of course, and you should take to heart the fact that most would believe what I told you – that I will simply deny ties and let others perish under the ever-rolling wheel of our society.” Push come to shove…yes, she would probably deny working with Inga.

But in the shadows, she’d ruin whoever touched Inga, and make sure Inga got out alive. None would ever be able to say it with certainty…but they’d know.

“Maybe Inga just called me from somewhere, injured, because she knows no police car is going to stop me if I happen to be speeding, which makes me a convenient ambulance of sorts. Who am I to ask questions?” Which was more or less what happened, except Inga thought she was going to die. But in truth, Antonia didn’t ask questions, and didn’t direct. Inga picked her targets. Antonia had no input, which made deniability quite easy. There were no orders, no directions, nothing – just Inga’s personal crusade towards redemption. “Whatever the case, I am sure it is very personal to her, and it isn’t my place to say.”

 

[Syntra]

Yet another cat whisperer? A cat whisperer possibly related to Silvon? Not that Lilian couldn’t imagine why anyone might have a beef with the man, because that was kind of easy to do; Silvon came across as the type of guy who, upon accidentally stepping on your foot, blamed you for daring to be there in the first place, and then was shocked that you didn’t appreciate it. Still, it did surprise her somewhat. “So, what you are saying is that we stumbled into some kinda family drama? Geez. If it wasn’t already obvious, I am not the best negotiator around, Cass.” Which was putting it lightly. You could count on Lilian Perry to turn pretty much every spark into a raging fucking inferno, and her self-awareness changed very little about that. Somehow, her hindsight realizations… had failed to transform into foresight? ‘Oops, that went badly’ was likely a mantra that was going to stay. “Why couldn’t it be more bad guys to beat up?” the huntress complained. “No, wait, no need to answer that. Probably because I’m good at these things, so of course it’s not gonna happen.”

And yeah, it could still end up veering into that direction! But, so far, Lilian guessed it would devolve into a mutual bitching session, with Cass and the Mysterious Vampire airing out their Silvon-related grievances. Nothing against that, of course! Mutual bitching was the founding stone of any relationship. But it also meant that her role would be to stand around awkwardly and avoid looking too nosey, while also absolutely trying to absorb all the juicy gossip. What? She was only human! And she was interested, solely because she was interested in Cassidy’s life in general. That... kind of came with the territory of being someone's girlfriend.

“It’s also probably a good thing, though,” she waved her hand, “If nothing else, it means we should be able to get this over with quickly.”

Or not. Family relations were complicated even among humans, and Lilian could imagine that vampires weren’t any better. Weren’t they basically Humans: New Game Plus? With the added benefit of getting to nurse grudges for centuries!

Alright, maybe the family thing was a hindrance; an epic, ‘fuck you’-sized hindrance, where Cass’s bloodline could work against her rather than for her.

With their track record, this was basically guaranteed!

Fucking sigh.

“Let’s go, then?”

And go they did, seeing as there wasn’t much point to spending more time with the cat. Fortunately, the casino itself wasn’t hard to find; Lilian only had to ask once to be pointed towards the building, because you couldn’t really overlook the tacky, Roman-style palace, with the statue of a stabbed Caesar guarding the entrance. The poor man looked positively gnarly, with fresh ‘blood’ gushing from his open wounds. “Fuck,” Lilian laughed, “Antonia would have loved that. Once we find Pete, can we take some photos here? I would so post these on my socials, if I… uh, didn’t delete them all.”

For reasons that were rather obvious. When your last employer was actively trying to end you, you did not make tracking you this fucking easy.

Buuut yeah, they likely weren’t going to find anyone too quickly. Looking for one specific vampire was a nightmare; looking for one specific vampire in fucking Vegas, where everything was weird and weirder, was worse still. “Do you have any… sort of radar for maybe-relatives?” the huntress wondered outloud. “‘Cause that would come in handy here.” Then it hit her: “Wait, a cousin? How do you guys have cousins?”

Clearly, Lilian still didn’t understand much about vampire family units.

~***~

Maya gave her a look that was a little hard to decipher. There was curiosity in it, but also something that contained traces of ‘yeah, right’ and maybe some contempt, if you looked from the right angle. One thing was certain; she wasn’t really buying a lot of what Antonia was saying. “Okay,” Maya nodded, “Keep your secrets. It’s not like the why of it matters that much. But, two things: Try to… be careful with her.” She looked around, as if she expected Inga to emerge from behind the corner at any moment, even if she’d obviously be able to sense her presence, “I know how she comes across but she’s also stupid in ways you wouldn’t really expect from someone like her. I’m kind of… shocked she even talks to you?”

Yeah, that was the really weird thing about this. Not the crusade, not the usual self-destruction campaign, but that Inga actually had something resembling normal rapport with the current object of her obsession. Usually, she did everything in her power to stay away!

Except that this wasn’t the usual kind of situation, and that was becoming more and more obvious.

Maya shrugged, “All I’m saying is, Inga has issues. You probably know that already but hers are pretty diverse.” An understatement, sure, though also one that worked. Antonia would likely find out for herself just how deep the rabbit hole went, which was how this should go. Even so, a little warning could go a long way. “And the other thing – thank you. For… having her back, I guess. She is a pain in the ass, but I’d still be pretty mad if something did happen to her.”

Then, of course, it was time to catch up with the said pain in the ass, and Maya went to do exactly that. Someone pointed her to Inga’s room, which she was thankful for; without the directions, the search likely would have taken her days. What a goddamn palace. Who even needs so much space?

”So here you are,” Maya said, after opening the door. Inga was sitting on the bed, which was better than standing but worse than lying.

She was also eyeing her rather critically, “Duh? Because you sent me here? Maybe you should get those memory problems checked out, Maya.”

“Don’t get smart with me! Or,” and there was an evil spark in her eyes, “I swear, I will go back to Antonia and tell her all the embarrassing stories about you.”

The look on Inga’s face told her she’d hit the fucking jackpot, even if she tried to hide it. “Excuse me? There are no embarrassing stories about the great Inga Singedottir. My record remains spotless.” More like, it was so colorful that the stories looped back to being sort of awesome, because Inga knew how to own them. So, there was no way Maya had any kind of dirt on—

“Hmm? Then you won’t mind her knowing about that one time you almost got married without realizing it?”

Fuck!

She tossed a pillow at Maya, which was as good as admission of weakness but it felt good. As an emotional support reaction, it worked out fine!

Maya caught it in mid-air, “See? It’s not wise to make an enemy of me. So,” she sat on the edge of the bed, right next to Inga, “Will you actually tell me what’s going on now?”

It’s not that simple. “Maya,” she began, serious for once, “These things are dangerous, and it’s better that you don’t get involved.” And, admittedly, Inga also didn’t feel like dissecting her own confused thoughts on… pretty much all of this. Not with how uncertain things were, and definitely not with the new, oh-so-fragile hope on the horizon.

“So secretive,” Maya pursed her lips. “You’re always like this.”

With good reason. “Just part of my charm, right?”

“Not really. But! At least I was able to meet your precious Antonia,” Maya smirked. “That she knows you exist is honestly a plot twist. How did you even meet her?”

“Oh, nothing too wild – I was blackmailing her, but then I decided, for no particular reason, that she’s actually the love of my life.”

“You know,” Maya gave her a look, “This would be funny if it also wasn’t 100% believable. Don’t tell me you’re being serious…?”

“Well,” Inga shrugged, “It wasn’t for no reason.”

“Jesus Christ.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Cassidy couldn’t help the slightly exasperated, but incredibly fond smile that came to her lips as Lilian whined about this not being a ‘beat’em up mission’. ‘We probably both need to get better at other things.’ Cassidy wanted to say, but didn’t break up Lilian’s whining with logic right then. Why? She wanted to whine over it, too!

She wanted this to be easy, but family drama…was pretty expected, honestly.

So she dug out her cell phone and sent a quick text to Silvon to ask him who else was in town that was related, that he knew about, without much details. He’d answer in his time, which apparently wasn’t immediately, as they made it to Caesar’s Palace without her phone buzzing a response. “You’ll get new socials one of these days,” Cassidy promised, “We can take all the pictures for them…but I don’t think Antonia would love this,” she probably hated it.

Then again, who knew? If Amon had a hand in this, maybe Antonia did, too?

“There’s no real vampire radar like that,” she said as they walked in, the jingling of slot machines ringing in her ears, a lounge singer from somewhere not too far also hamming it up on a microphone. “And yeah – we don’t know the source or where things split off, but things do split off. Silvon has a sire, and his sire had other childes, and those childes have their own childes…it’s a mess. Some vampires can trace their lineages pretty far.”

Silvon couldn’t. It cut off, with no one really sure what was next. A branch was broken when some of the older generation died, and their stories, their history, lost and not rediscovered. It was sad in a way, but not atypical.

Apparently, they weren’t knowingly tied to any of the Great Old Ones who were still alive and could claim them.

She walked to one of the employees then, “Hey! Excuse me! I’m looking for my cat, Pete – I heard from a few people they saw a cat wondering in here,” she did her best to put on puppy dog eyes to the hapless employee, “Please, have you seen any cats here?” She…probably should have gotten a description from the white cat, now that she thought about it.

Too late now.

How common was a random cat in here, anyways?

If nothing else, she could start walking around screaming ‘Pete’ and hope someone looked guilty…or she heard a cat call back.

~***~

Antonia gave Maya a dull stare as she stated Inga had issues. And that she ought to be careful with her. No, she probably didn’t need to be that careful with her, because Inga…well, Inga was dumb, in ways. Perhaps Antonia didn’t know all the ways, but the ways Antonia damaged people? Yeah, she didn’t need to be careful. Inga would never notice. Which had to be true, or Inga would have vanished long, long ago, because Antonia hadn’t really hidden her contempt at any point.

Even now, despite saving her, there was contempt. It was mellowed by that irksome affection, and self-frustration, of course, but it was hard to be rid of it. Antonia held grudges for millennia. She still despised long-dead Roman mortals. Valerius had a special place on her contempt list. Forgiving was the hard part, really.

She never was good at that.

The gratitude was enough for Antonia to comment on nothing else. She just nodded, “You’re welcome.” Not that Antonia did it for Maya. She was wholly selfish in that regard. Inga didn’t get to die until she decided. That was the new, simple, rule. Inga lived until Antonia said otherwise. End of discussion.

Maya left, and Antonia went to finishing up details for the arrival of Maxwell and likely a few other hunters with the Red Lounge – because that was more suitable for these meetings. She wouldn’t intrude on Maya or Inga, and she would let Cassandra linger near so she could direct the pair as needed when they were done conversing, with whatever they needed or wanted at the moment.

Inga was given quite a bit of freedom to ask for things, partially because Antonia doubted she’d ask for much more than blood, or Antonia’s location.

~***~

Felix was not surprised when the hunters arrived, and he was the one to greet them. Maxwell was a surprise, though. No one warned him that Maxwell had been…turned. He kept his mouth shut on it, but his perturbance was obvious enough to get a comment. “Don’t worry, the Lady’s in the dark, too. I thought I’d surprise her.” Felix managed a bit of a nod, unsure how that was going to go over. He chanced a glance at one of the other hunters in the group.

They were all a bit on the older side, but that was expected.

These were hunters Antonia knew from another town. Even Felix had some memories of them, though he hadn’t been as close to things back then, and his territory wasn’t that town, either. No need to know as much.

“Shit really hit the fan here, huh? How is she managing?”

“Well enough. I’m sure it’s not an uncommon defeat,” given her age, given the long history with hunters, “but there’s some…new things.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t tell me much over the phone,” Max agreed, rubbing his knuckles against the side of his face, likely an itch under his beard.

‘Couldn’t have been turned that long ago.’ Felix wouldn’t ask, though. Maxwell looked…well, late 40s, maybe 50s? As old as expected, really.

“She’s in here,” Felix wouldn’t answer that leading statement directly, stopping at the door, only to knock, and then open it to let them into the lounge. He glanced to Antonia, and saw the shock go through her, before her gaze flicked to him.

He was dismissed with silence, and left.

Antonia approached the familiar faces, concern etching itself onto her visage immediately. “Max, you’re….”

He laughed. Boisterous, amused, “I’ve always wondered what you’d look like surprised. Didn’t expect this much horror,” he reached out easily, familiarly, to touch the arm she had started to raise and let his fingers trail a small path down towards her wrist, that he wrapped his fingers around, “Do I look that bad for being old?” He teased, knowing that wasn’t what she was horrified over.

It took the edge off. Antonia relaxed, sighed, “You didn’t tell me.”

“That ruins the surprise part,” he noted, “It’s only been a couple of months, anyways.”

“Your sire?”

“Dead. Killed him soon as I woke. Fucker did it for revenge, anyways.” He let go of her wrist and turned a bit sideways, catching the other hunters in his look as he examined the area, “You’ve downsized.”

“Temporarily. I was attacked by the hunters here,” she went to her desk, sitting not at the table, but leaning against it. “I’m glad you were all able to come,” she looked first to him with some of the old fondness starting to overcome the initial surprise, before looking to the others – still fond, but of course, not quite as fond. “There is a lot to say about the situation besides their threat to the general populace’s ignorance.”

“Tch.” A severity entered Max’s tone in just that dismissive sound.

 

[Syntra]

Of course there was no vampire radar. Of fucking course! That would have made things easier, and the universe hated doing that for her. It actually... seemed to go out of its way to do the opposite? At this point, Lilian was fairly sure that inconvenience to her personally was like, the main indicator of how likely something was. The more it screwed her over, the greater the probability of the spinning wheel landing on exactly that spot!

(Yes, she did sort of expect to find Michael Serafis sitting behind one of the slot machines. 'What are the odds?' someone might ask, but that someone would be a sucker. Everyone knew that these questions pretty much ensured the outcome! I should... stop thinking about this, just in case some higher power IS listening.

(After all, that Lilian Perry was done with gods didn't remotely mean that the gods were done with her. Speaking from experience, here.)

"Go figure," she sighed. "Gonna look for him in the old-fashioned way, then." An old-fashioned way, aka 'the needle in the haystack' method. No, it didn't inspire a lot of confidence; what it did inspire, though, was an increased desire to bitch. "We totally should have gotten a dog for this. I know, I know -- probably not something that would please the cats, but it would have fucking worked."

Maybe asking employees would work as well, though?

Except, the look in the poor, doubtlessly underpaid teenager's eyes told her otherwise, "Ehh, can't say I have seen any cats around here. What does he look like?"

There we fucking go. Why hadn't they gotten more information about Pete, again? Oh, right! Because they couldn't pay them enough to spend more time with their initial contact, the King of Assholes himself. "Like a cat," Lilian interjected, before he could ask more questions that would reveal their cover story for the utter bullshit it was, "Four legs, two ears, as cute as a button. I would kill for him."

It wasn't remotely a threat, but it was also a weird enough statement that it gave the employee a pause. Likely, he could also sense the statement was uncomfortably close to the truth; most people did recognize danger instinctively, even if they preferred to stick their fingers into their ears and go 'lalala' instead. Then, his customer service smile kicked in, "Ah, yes. Who wouldn't kill for their pets? Monsters, that's who! I will ask my coworkers if they haven't noticed anything." Lilian could hear the 'I'm not getting paid enough for this nonsense' behind the fake sweetness, but... yeah, a valid point. Not like pressing the issue would have changed anything, either.

"This is stupid," she pointed out to Cass, once they left the poor guy behind, "It happened days ago, Pete can be pretty much anywhere. For all we know, they could have only met here and then gone somewhere else entirely." Why the fuck did people have to have legs? Without those, and their disgusting habit to go places, this investigation would have been much simpler!

"I wish we could just look at the... oh. The cameras." There were bound to be some, right? And, okay, getting the access to them couldn't be simple, but they kind of happened to be the experts on getting not-simple-things done. "You think we could get our hands on the records? Seems more reliable to me than just... hoping to bump into him."

~***~

Inga didn't actually remember when the last time she'd spent so much time chatting with Maya was. Or, well, with anyone; her lifestyle didn't lend itself to a lot of interactions with others, mainly because she didn't want it to. Always, she was doing this or that, either caught up in the next big scheme, chasing a new obsession, or some unholy combination of both, perpetually busy busy busy, to silence the voices that had no right to be heard. Admittedly, it... was sort of nice?

Nice in the exact same way she'd been trying to avoid. With good reason, too! Because you got used to nice things, came to expect them, and then, one day, you woke up only to find out they were gone. That was the problem with other people; they just never lasted. The only constant in Inga's life was Inga, and so she had... tried to become enough for herself? Which both had and hadn't worked out, in the end.

It had, because at least she knew to pour her time into something productive now.

It hadn't, because it never worked for long.

Kind of like slapping a bandaid over a bleeding wound. Still, what else was there to do when those bandaids were all you had?

"I'm telling you, Inga," Maya continued, "You gotta get a grip. What's the big plan, to continue murdering the fuck out of them and hope nobody notices your hands are bloody?"

"Not at all. I do expect them to notice!" she gave Maya a bright smile, "That will be the fun part. The legendary part. The 'maybe-this-was-all-worth-something' part. I don't know, don't you think it would be a great story? One woman against all? Better than half the stuff they wrote in Edda, and Edda was pretty good."

"God," Maya rolled her eyes, "Not the megalomania. You old vamps are all the same, with your delusions and hang-ups and 'back in my day' bullshit."

"I'm not even that old," Inga complained.

"Compared to, like, the age of our galaxy? No, that you aren't."

"Antonia is older."

"Are you comparing everything to Antonia now?"

"No, only the good things."

"Oh, you're so gone." Though, Maya had to admit that that was nice to see; the running from your feelings shtick Inga had going on couldn't be healthy, and now, when she stopped for a second, she seemed... well, more at peace. Which was likely saying something, given the still-bloodied shirt and the not-quite-natural paleness.

Inga likely would have stayed right where she was supposed to, for once, but when it turned out she'd likely forgotten her phone where Maya had been held, she ventured to retrieve it... only to discover that Antonia already had a company.

"Whoops!" Inga gave them her most innocent smile, "Already here? Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to crash your little meeting, I just lost my phone somewhere around here. Should I see myself out, Antonia?"

One of the hunters, a tall, lanky man with silver in his hair and round, thick-framed glasses gulped, his eyes unmistakably falling down to the not-yet-entirely-healed wound. "Uhh... Are you quite alright, Miss?"

Which did make Inga laugh, given the circumstances, "Man, they really don't make 'em like they used to! Since when is that a hunter's concern? But, yeah, more or less. I'll live, if you can call it that." Speaking of non-traditional approaches to vampire-hunting, though...

"Wow," she turned to the big, gruff guy, and said, with all her usual tact: "A vampire vampire hunter? What is it, self-hatred or habit? Not judging if it's the first one, we really do suck sometimes. Maybe even most of the time? It is true that the worst people I have ever known have all been vampires. The name's Inga, by the way! Antonia's..." Antonia's what, actually? She wasn't quite sure, and instead glanced at the Roman with the unspoken question in her eyes.

 

[Lucyfer]

Asking the employee went about as well as expected without a description, though Lilian really laid into the threat. The poor teenager definitely wasn’t paid enough for this, no matter how much he might have gotten in tips from people on a lucky streak. They left the guy as he offered to tell his coworkers about it…which he probably would, but in a way of “guess what nutcase I ran into today” rather than a helpful way.

Then again, maybe it would still end up helpful.

Lilian thought of cameras, which, fair. Even Cassidy could tell this place was heavily monitored. Tristan would have probably loved it for the potential. “Days like this, I wish I could fully shift,” Cassidy sighed, “It’d be a lot easier to get into a camera room as something smaller,” and something people weren’t going to think knew how to use a camera room.

Then, her eyes widened.

“Maybe we can!” She gripped Lilian’s shoulders, “You can be threatening,” obviously, “not that—not that I want you to really harm anyone,” they were innocents, “but we could find another person who looks a bit higher up the chain – think you can imitate Antonia and demand to see the cameras for…a better reason than a cat?”

Admittedly, Lilian…wasn’t dressed the part, but a lot of it was attitude. Cassidy thought. Hoped.

Either way, Lilian would do a hell of a better job at it than she would. The other alternative was to try and sneak it, but they didn’t know where it was, and odds were, it was locked. That could always be Plan B?

~***~

Antonia did frown as Inga gave a little ‘whoops’, not impressed with her logic about a phone. Inga wasn’t forbidden, but a knock would have been appreciated all the same. She was about to tell her that yes, in fact she should see herself off, because the phone wasn’t here and her excuse was flimsy, but the hunters chose to be curious first, so she withheld to allow the introductions.

Maxwell laughed at Inga’s judgment of him, leaving little room for Antonia to fill in what was left unsaid. “Well, any friend of Antonia’s is a friend of mine,” which Antonia also didn’t contradict him on. Although friend still felt off, it was perhaps the most honest way to describe it. They weren’t anything beyond that, and calling them less than that would seriously bring in questions to her sanity for going to save Inga.

He stepped forward, “Only been one of you lot for a couple of months now, so hard to tell if it’s habit or hatred yet. They haven’t kicked me out yet, so at least I’m doing a good job,” Maxell offered his hand to Inga, “Name’s Maxwell Graves. Or Max, Maxie, Maxine if you’re particularly angry with me, or any variation of it – but maybe not variations on Well. Bit like a cat, only the first sound of my name matters.”

Antonia scoffed, more her doubt on cats caring what they were called than his examples of names he could be called. She’d seen cats answer things meant for them, that was clearly not their name at all, or resembled the sound of it to any degree. Cats just did what they wanted.

Which, Max couldn’t leave that scoff alone, “Now, now, just because I answer to other things for you doesn’t mean I will for others, mel meum,” he said.

Antonia really wasn’t surprised by that, and just rolled her eyes, “Your Latin is still atrocious.” It actually…wasn’t, though. It used to be. It used to be horrendous, even just the few phrases he knew. She doubted he spent any time practicing after she left the area, though. He hadn’t been big on actually learning it. Just a few curse words, and a few terms of endearment. He used them both in the same way, depending on his mood.

 

[Syntra]

Why do you think I’d be a better fit for the role? The question did cross Lilian’s mind, though there really was no need to actually ask it. Anyone with a working pair of eyes could tell! Cassidy looked remarkably unthreatening; the adorable girl-next-door type, about as dangerous as your average puppy. Looks could be deceiving, and often were, but that wasn’t the point!

The point was all about looks, and how Lilian knew she could be perceived.

“You mean to say that I should impersonate a Karen?” She wouldn’t really call Antonia a Karen to her face, unless a) the moment was really heated, b) she was feeling particularly suicidal, but yeah, that did sort of check out. Old, rich, and too prissy for her own good? Check, check and fucking check! Oh god, I… need to get that out of my head. Otherwise, I really will call her a Karen one day. Well, maybe Antonia didn’t know what that was? A small solace, but one likely to be true, given how aggressively she seemed to be clinging to the good, ol’ times. “Cass,” Lilian grabbed her hands, “You’re a genius. That will 100% work, nobody wants to deal with a Karen. I’ll just… pretend I think I’m better than everyone else.” Admittedly, that was an easy mindset to slip into, “No way they won’t show me what I want.”

‘Finding somebody higher up the food chain’ translated, at least in her mind, to finding someone dressed in a suit. Suits were threatening; suits screamed important, across languages. You wore a suit when you wanted to intimidate someone, and you wore a suit when you wanted to stand out. That was why bodyguards were associated with those, as well as security guards. Yeah, security guards! “Look,” she pulled at Cassidy’s sleeve, “An obvious target.”

And, indeed, it was an obvious target; a stereotypical gorilla, half a head taller than Lilian, wearing obnoxious-looking sunglasses despite working inside and despite it being nighttime. “Okay, come with me and try to look sad. Give me your best puppy eyes?” Because that, that was Cassidy’s main strength, and conveniently also a department in which Lilian really fucking sucked. Whenever she tried looking adorable, the end result was similar to… well, someone who suffered from a bad case of constipation. It seemed like her facial muscles hadn’t really grasped the concept?

Mostly because cuteness had never helped her with anything. Sharp elbows had, though.

“Hey! Hey, Mr. Davidson?” The nameplate on his breast said so, anyway, “I really need to talk to you.”

“Yes?” The man didn’t sound overjoyed, but at least he was willing to humor her.

“Good,” Lilian pursed her lips, “Finally someone is paying attention to us in this godforsaken place. Listen, Mr. Davidson, I’m going to need a favor from you, and I’m going to need it now. My friend Jessica,” the first name that came to her mind, “Was robbed here a few days ago. Someone took her bracelet, and it was a family heirloom! So, we are going to have to look at the cameras.”

Immediately, the man’s expression shifted to disapproval, “Miss, only the police can request the access to—“

“Oh,” Lilian smirked, “Should I call the police, then? I was hoping to solve this quickly, but if you want the cops to rummage around here, then sure, be my guest. I can also call my journalist friends, while we’re at it, so that everyone hears about the shit customer experience we’ve had.” And then, the mantra of all Karens: “Or, better yet! Let me talk to your supervisor. How come that nobody helped Jess when it happened?! All of your buddies ignored her! I’m telling you, I’m this close to suing,” at which point, she turned to ‘Jess,’ “What was your lawyer’s number, again?”

~***~

Antonia’s… friend? Was that what she was? Friend. Friend. The word tasted funny on her tongue, not quite sweet yet not quite sour, and Inga figured it would do, for now.

(A few days ago, she hadn’t even dared to hope for that. Antonia not hating her had been just about the peak of her ambitions, and wasn’t it funny how quickly things changed? Because now it wasn’t nearly enough. Inga wasn’t sure what would be, with the new developments in play, but she was also sort of excited to find out. Hopeful, for once.)

Inga took the hand and gave it a firm, friendly shake, “Yeah, I don’t have an assortment of nicknames myself. Aside from maybe ‘hey, you?’ And all the things they call me behind my back, but those ought to be worse. Either way, just Inga is fine!” The barrage was… a barrage, spilling from her lips with next to no input of her own. The process felt all but automatic; Inga always had liked making a memorable first impression, if only because it paid off to put your armor on early. To establish who you were, who you weren’t, and who you wanted to be, depending on what you expected from the relationship.

That meant that her brain worked independently of the antics.

It took in the story, the weird little… what, signs of affection? Was it affection, from Antonia’s side? Definitely from Maxwell’s, and, as much as she loathed to admit it, probably from Antonia’s as well. After all, she didn’t protest the nickname. The nickname that had to be something intimate, given she’d heard Amon refer to her with a similar phrase once. Which, yeah, Inga didn’t enjoy that at all, though she also focused on something else, for now.

It wasn’t that she was looking for any discrepancies, but, well, they were there? You also didn’t have to consciously think about the night sky usually being pitch black to notice when a giant meteorite colored it blood red.

A few months? Inga stopped in the middle of her theatrics, gave Maxwell a strange look, and then… started to laugh. It was a genuine, honest laughter; not at all a forced thing, but rather a telltale sign that she found all of this to be really, really, really funny. What it also was was terribly out of place. Yep, everyone was staring! The awkward silence likely would have deterred most people, except, Inga being Inga, she absolutely chewed the scenery instead. Finally, her amusement died down somewhat: “Have you?” Blatant doubts, “Man, I sure wish I was also turned recently, and not a thousand and something years ago! Given that they seem to be distributing some kinda sedatives with the blood now. To be able to work with humans, and not murder the fuck out of everyone, so soon after joining us? Impressive, Maxie.” ‘At least get better lies,’ was what her eyes said, though she wasn’t about to mention that outloud. Sometimes, implications worked better. “No, really. I spent several decades getting the balance just right, as well as everyone I know. You seem to be a natural, though. What’s the trick?”

With that, she plopped down on the couch and put one leg over the other, her lips curled up in an easy smile.

Some of the hunters exchanged uncomfortable glances, and the one that had spoken to her earlier put a hand on Maxwell’s shoulder.

“Miss Inga,” ugh, what a nerd, “Is this really necessary? Max has been—”

“What?” she raised an eyebrow. “I’m just curious! It is curious, isn’t it, Antonia?”

 

[Lucyfer]

Cassidy’s eyes did widen when Lilian twisted it to Karen. ‘Definitely don’t call Antonia that.’ Though Cassidy had a feeling that the vampiress had probably heard that before. She knew Tristan, it seemed impossible to think Tristan hadn’t said it, even if that wasn’t Antonia’s actual nickname among that group. Still, she nodded along with it, because that was exactly the attitude that Lilian needed to project, and she would…project the wounded puppy look, apparently.

Because, as Lilian drew attention from a security guard, her poor bracelet had gone missing. She put on a pitiful look…as well as a slightly embarrassed one, for the sake of the guard, with the way that Lilian was digging into him and demanding to see the cameras, threatening to call the police, and asking for a supervisor, all in less than a minute. ‘Epic.’ This would be a good story for the shitposting group. She might ask permission before relaying it, though.

At the request for a lawyer’s number, she quietly mumbled out Silvon’s number, since she did have it memorized, and it would be a local Las Vegas number, which would hit home how close – and how quickly – everything could turn around.

Mr. Davidson did not have time for this.

And it was above his paygrade, so yeah – he would let his supervisor handle this. “Yeah, one sec, I’ll call my supervisor,” he was happy to hand it off, as he spoke into his radio, “Hey, got a client here who’s lost a bracelet, wants to talk to a supervisor, over by the Lyre Nero statue,” there was a buzz back, an agreement that one of the supervisors would be over soon.

He looked back to Lilian, “I’ll wait with you here until she arrives,” he added, because he just knew he’d get a bitching out if he left.

So Cassidy waited, awkwardly shifting her weight between her legs and shuffling her feet, head down, embarrassed and sad as she ought to be, until a woman did approach in a similar suited outfit. She wasn’t nearly as large as Mr. Davidson, but there was no denying she had strength enough to probably take on most who would choose to irritate her – and likely, quite a substantial bit of skill in some sort of martial arts. She also fit in to the atmosphere as if she'd belonged to the time, dark hair and olive skin.

She smiled pleasantly, albeit tightly, at the two, knowing immediately which one was causing a problem as Mr. Davidson scurried off. Her nametag said ‘Alexandros’, no doubt her surname. “I understand a bracelet has been lost here. I am afraid no report ever reached me of this, but I am willing to assist. What can you tell me about the situation?”

She seemed level and calm.

Cassidy chose to make a small interjection, “It was my bracelet, it was stolen from me but I didn’t really see who it was. We were wanting to get a look at the cameras, we know about when and where it happened. It’d be real quick.” Cassidy glanced up, hoping her pathetic-nature was going to help – along with the no-doubt demanding that Lilian was about to do to push this through.

At least this woman would hopefully have enough authority to grant their request.

~***~

Inga’s laugh was startling to Antonia, and her reason? More confusing. Sure, it was true that Maxwell was handling this remarkably well, but she knew he hadn’t been a vampire for too long. That his fellow hunters hadn’t immediately contradicted him or mocked his sense of time, said enough. As did the way Vincent went to his side. “Inga, what are you expecting from this?” Antonia didn’t hide her irritation.

Max just chuckled, “Ya know, I keep hearing that,” he noted, “but I think I have an answer for you. Not really sure,” he shrugged, and brushed off Vincent’s hand with a smile, before he took a thermos he had hooked to his belt-of-many-tools and held it up, “See, in your day, I’m guessing they didn’t have blood bags or containers to carry blood in? So you kinda had to go crazy and go for flesh, right? Whenever I feel that, I just chug this. No sedatives, but you might be on to something there,” he noted, clipping the thermos right back onto his belt-of-many-tools.

“What do you think? We know of any sedatives that work on vamps yet?”

“Alcohol,” another of the elder hunters, Willow, pointed out blandly.

“Thank god that still works,” Max joked, and looked back at Inga, “other than that, not sure how to satisfy you other than I got lucky? Maybe my sire had some weird ability that negates bloodlust? Far as I know, you all range from having superhero level nonsense, to next to nothing at all.”

Wouldn’t be a stretch at all that someone out there might have had one that negated bloodlust, “Don’t really know what I’m going to get. Or I guess, what I might already have,” he shrugged. “Guess I should have asked the guy that bit me.”

Antonia was still glowering at Inga, still wanting an answer to the question that Max had spoken ahead of. Really, what did she expect?

 

[Syntra]

Did Lilian feel sorry for the poor guy? Yes. Was she also having way too much fun with this? Definitely! She’d never really given much thought to the origins of Karen-dom, the blight on humanity that it was, but the mean, self-indulgent part of her did have to admit that it was kind of hilarious. Just… stomp your feet and get whatever you might want? For free? Sign her the fuck up! Maybe I shouldn’t lean into this too much, though. Attitudes could be infectious, after all; they were easy to pick up solely because you happened to exist in their vicinity, much like metaphorical fleas.

So, did she want to risk becoming an unironic Karen? Not really. Potentially turning into one kind of monster was already bad enough, dammit!

Although, the role definitely did have its uses, “No report?” the huntress raised her eyebrow. “I would love to say that I’m shocked by the blatant lack of professionalism, but I’m not. Is this what passes for security around here? Really?” It had long been Lilian’s philosophy that defense was for a) chumps, b) those who didn’t understand that a dead opponent couldn’t kill you, c) a combination of both. Just strike instead! And strike harder! Because that shit hurt, and often managed to divert people’s attention away from the things you didn’t want them to notice.

Such as, you know, the incident itself. The incident that had very much not happened, but totally could have!

Plausibility was the key ingredient, here.

Somehow, the woman managed to avoid rolling her eyes, “I am sorry to hear that, Miss…?”

“Miss Mayer,” Lilian added, quickly enough that she even surprised herself.

“Miss Mayer,” Alexandros repeated, “But that that is still a breach of protocol. Furthermore, I am not sure what you actually want to do with the footage. Do you think it will help you get it back?”

That was Lilian’s cue, “Oh, it could,” an unpleasant smile, “I have my ways.” And since she was a person that indeed did have her ways, it even sounded authentic! Authentic, in that ‘I’m absolutely going to kick your ass’ way, which most people who knew how to look out for trouble could recognize. You just… developed that sort of instinct, if you lived for long enough. If you wanted to live for long enough, too. “I’ve already said as much to your friend, though. We can either do this painlessly, or we can drag everything out and involve all those people who don’t need to be involved. Your choice!”

Alexandros looked like she wanted to be pretty much anywhere but here. She glanced at Lilian first, then at Cassidy’s sad face, and, finally, proceeded to sigh in defeat. Clearly, dealing with the Karen wasn’t worth it, “Fine,” she said, “Follow me. You can’t have the recordings, though, and no taking pictures.”

Soon, they were being ushered into the camera room, with countless screens flickering in the darkness.

“Do you remember where it happened?” Alexandros asked.
Which, a valid sentiment, but: “No,” Lilian answered for Cass, “She was in shock. Don’t you know anything about psychology at all? People have no sense these days, asking such insensitive questions!”

“…Of course.”

The next minutes, then, were spent rather uneventfully, with them basically staring at the screens. Nothing, nothing, nothing, aaand more nothing! Was Pete even here?

Maybe not, given their luck, until—

“Look,” Lilian touched Cass’ arm, “Here.”

Of course, there was no bracelet to be seen; what was there, though, was a short, dark woman scooping up a cat near one of the parlors and getting her face absolutely shredded for it. Lilian sort of regretted there was no sound, because yeah, that had to have been hilarious.

Two things stood out about her: one, she was an employee, if the uniform was to be trusted, and two, her hair was stupidly long, almost reaching her knees despite being tied in a pretty high ponytail.

~***~

“I don’t know, Antonia,” Inga gave her sweetest smile. “Everything, but also nothing at all. What should I expect things? Thinking ahead is too much pressure. It’s better to react to that which is there, rather than to what ought to be there.” And yeah, that was unadulterated shitposting, though that didn’t stop it from also being true. Expectations blinded you; they made you see what you wanted to see, even moreso than usual. People clung to what they knew, and vampires… vampires were no different. Sometimes, they were actually worse! Because they had had more time to get used to their version of normal, and thus also more time to get stuck in their own ideas. The stagnancy got to them.

The stagnancy that Inga had spent the better part of her life avoiding, for better or worse.

That made it easier for her to see things.

So, what was it that she saw?

A guy whose story didn’t check out. Not fully. Logically speaking, there were only two options: a) he spoke the truth, b) he lied. The truth wasn’t dangerous, though lies were, not so much in and of themselves but because of that pesky little ‘why.’ Did it not make more sense to prepare yourself for the possibility b), then?

It did, but the world didn’t follow logic. Antonia sometimes followed logic, when she wanted to, and she often seemed to want the very opposite of that when it came to Inga. So, the old nutjob act it was!

Nutjobs could say whatever came to their minds, whenever it happened. Wasn’t that oh so convenient? Jesters had known the trick for centuries, and Inga didn’t at all mind donning her red nose.

“Yeah, I think not,” Inga smiled at Max, “Young vamps still struggle these days. I know enough of ‘em to be pretty damn sure of that. But, Maxie,” that was when she stood up and grabbed his hands, in a gesture far too intimate for total strangers, “My friend,” of course, friend, “The ability theory is good, and I happen to love good theories. You could say I’m something of a connoisseur! So,” Inga’s impression of puppy eyes admittedly was a little scary, “Give me your blood? Not all of it, I’m not that greedy. I just wanna look at things under a microscope, figure out how it works, and maybe help some new vamps along the way! This could be huge, man.”

Vincent looked as if he was about to choke, but someone else, a man shorter and somewhat younger than him, apparently had Opinions: “So do you just… ask to experiment on people normally, as part of your introduction?”

“Nope,” Inga chuckled, “I mostly experiment on myself, since it’s better to have consistent data over time. Plus, having to explain to people why they should drink the hydrochloric acid is so annoying that I’d rather do it on my own. Maxie here is fascinating, though! The one-in-a-million sample!”

 

[Lucyfer]

Cassidy was so relieved that this worked, although she didn’t let too much of that show. She did give Alexandros a small smile of gratitude, before she followed along to the room, and kept quiet on the matter of when and where. She had suggested it earlier, but yes – shock. She just thought she might know where, and so she kept her focus mostly on one camera, so she could play up that story if it became necessary.

If Alexandros remembered.

Thankfully, Lilian’s attention to all was able to let her catch the cat situation, who was being picked up by another employee. Cassidy squinted, taking in the details – the long hair, the darker skin, and the baby face.

Cassidy knew literally one person with hair that long: an elder childe of Silvon she had met in Salt Lake City – one not much older than her, really, but one who had stuck around for a bit longer. ‘Komeha’e.’ She also knew that she and Silvon had parted on not so great terms, as soon as Silvon began to really get into the casino business and began to help Native American tribes in building them up, while taking huge profit margins from it.

Komeha’e had never quite relinquished that part of herself, and felt Silvon had crossed a line when he used to be more helpful to the downtrodden and displaced tribes. Of course, Cassidy thought he’d done a pretty good thing – the casinos seemed to really fund the tribes – but she also wasn’t heavily involved in knowing all the ins and outs.

Not that she said that right there.

She nodded, and looked towards Alexandros, “Thank you, we see who it is now.” It wouldn’t be good to ask about an employee when this really had nothing to do with a bracelet, “We won’t say anything about this. Promise.”

Alexandros huffed, and for a moment seemed like she was about to ask more – before clearly deciding against it, shaking her head, and moving towards the door, “Please don’t, I could get in a lot of trouble for this as it is.” Which was also, clearly, why she was choosing to stay ignorant. As the door opened, they were let out, and once they were away from Alexandros, Cassidy whispered.

“That’s Komeha’e. She’s a childe of Silvon. They…also didn’t part ways well.” She sighed, “But she’s not bad.” This was probably something fairly personal, and she was probably hoping to lure Silvon out, rather than another of Silvon’s childes.

Cassidy wasn’t sure how that would go.

“She’s probably using a fake moniker,” because people were as opposed to actual Native American names as they were to Chinese names. They were difficult. “But she can talk to animals, so…I just need to find a few animals to tell me where she is. So,” with a sigh, “let’s go outside. All of us are rather…partial to mice and rats.” They were intelligent, and they were small. More useful than cats, really, as spies. “There will be some by dumpsters.” There always were.

If she was in this area, she’d definitely have her own network of rats, where she couldn’t use the cats since they were likely all Silvon’s.

~***~

No, Antonia wasn’t impressed.

The next time she had to deal with any hunters, Inga would be off-property. Or Antonia would. In either case, she was already making plans that this wouldn’t be happening again with any of her hunters. The guilt at subjecting them to this was already eating away at her. They were being polite enough, given the circumstances, really.

At least Max’s jovial nature hadn’t shifted.

He even seemed interested as Inga took his hands and asked for his blood, brows raising, “Hell yeah!” He agreed readily, even laughing as another hunter wondered if this was normal, or appropriate, behavior. “If you can figure out what’s up with me, or what cool powers I’ve inherited, I’ll be grateful.” He tossed a look back to the others, “I’m sure we might all feel a little better if we can figure some more things out. I know it hasn’t been easy for all of you.”

There had been concerns he’d fly off the handle, given the amount of blood he was around, and humans. Thankfully, it never happened. “Guess we’ll need to get some vials, or a bag, or something to take my blood from here and not get it all over the floor.”

“You can also go to a non-carpeted area of the house,” yeah, Antonia was not happy about this, but she also wasn’t going to deal with cleaning blood out of the carpet, “I’ve done enough cleaning up blood since yesterday thanks to her.”

“Heh,” Max nodded, “We can do that, too.” And indeed, he would let Inga take her sample, and get back to the actual meeting with Antonia – which she had no problems continuing without him, once Inga was gone, her mood significantly soured that she figured his hunters could give him a briefing of anything he missed.

No, it wasn’t Max’s fault – he was just unfortunate enough to draw Inga’s attention – but she wasn’t prepared to do much more than apologize for the curtness after the fact, and explain a bit more of Inga’s strange interests.

Strange, but useful.

She just picked terrible times.

 

[Syntra]

Kome… what? Admittedly, Lilian could see the need for a moniker. The second you had the audacity to be called something else than a Mary, or a Jane, or a Mary Jane, people were going to struggle, which you didn’t necessarily want when you worked in the services. Still, though! That did not mean she wasn’t going to try. You weren’t an asshole for getting someone’s name wrong; what was a certified asshole move, though, was not even attempting to get it right. Yet another Karen move! And not even a fun one. “Ko-me-ha. Komeha’e? Like this, or am I fucking it up?” Because, yeah, there were few things more embarrassing than mangling the name in front of its bearer. Lilian still remained quite clueless about many, many rules of vampire etiquette, and adding yet another layer of awkwardness to the already no doubt awkward interaction did not sound like her idea of a good time. “Please, tell me I’m not fucking it up.”

Visiting the rats it was, then, “I guess we should count ourselves lucky that we aren’t dealing with anyone dangerous?” Which, yeah, they definitely should. Conflicts led to injuries, and injuries were bad! Nobody had to get hurt!

Even if some part of Lilian perhaps wanted for that to happen. Okay, ‘want’ may have been a strong word, but… well, was that not a sign of job well done? Something that sort of came with the territory? ‘Expectations’ was likely the better term for it.

Oh god, are vampires literally less violent than we are? That… did make a lot of sense. After all, vamps led long lives; that there were those who had been around for a fucking millennium suggested that they knew a thing or two about diplomacy.

That, or they were just really good at murder. Two sides of the same coin, actually! Wasn’t diplomacy just… ensuring that everyone else got fucked over and you didn’t?

(Okay, maybe Lilian did have some strange ideas about diplomacy. And other things.)

“Silvon does seem to have a special talent for antagonizing his childes, though.” Perhaps not a nice thing to say, but Lilian Perry also wasn’t one to wrap her words in a protective bubble, “I suppose that’s what happens when you have so much time to screw up?” Something told her it was a function of probability, especially when… well, when you happened to be like Silvon. All smiles, all niceties, but underneath it? A strange sort of carelessness, as if nothing really mattered as long as it didn’t matter to him, personally.

“So, what are rats like? Have you ever met the protagonist of Ratatouille?” Maybe a shitpost, maybe not; Lilian’s life had been weird enough lately that she would be willing to believe the story.

But yes, Cass was right— rats indeed could be seen swarming near the dustbins, no doubt interested in something that… was close to edible, in their eyes.

“What are ya looking at?” one of them asked. “Never seen a rodent before in your life?”

~***~

The silence was beautiful.

The screams, still echoing in her mind if not in the room itself, made that fact stand out so much more; rather like a splash of black on a white canvas, or stars on the night sky, or… about a million other things, really.

Isolde did love everything about this.

What she didn’t love, though, was when her little experiments bore no fruit. She wiped the blood off her mouth, and looked down at the broken body on the floor, “Won’t someone clean the mess? I don’t think poor little Johannes is going to walk back to the cage on his own, so I would appreciate some assistance here.”

“I… of course, Lady Isolde.”

The servants were always on the edge around her, for reasons that Isolde didn’t quite get. Were her instructions not reasonable? Was she not a kind mistress? They had one fucking job, and that was to keep things clean. So, why didn’t they keep things clean? Did she have to murder more of them, to drive the message across? Truly, I am surrounded with idiots. Matteo was just the most obvious case.

Antonia Lenart’s little campaign was exposing them all as the amateurs they were, and that was a good thing. A marvelous thing! Really, Isolde didn’t remember having so much fun in centuries, but—

But. Several lines had been crossed, the last one being Kirana’s death. Inga, too, was one of them.

Inga Singedottir, Isolde thought, trying to recall the woman’s face. The name was sort of familiar, but there was nothing attached to it? No thoughts, no feelings, certainly no memories. Matteo had mentioned her once or twice, though always in contexts that had made it easy for her to ignore her existence. Something about her being pliable enough; pliable enough, and thus not deserving of attention.

Until she wasn’t.

Until she’d left them.

Until she’d started murdering her own.

Wasn’t it interesting, the way Antonia Lenart changed people?

Yet another reason why she had to have her.

The Veturia falling apart like a house of cards was another such reason, but, if Isolde had to be honest with herself, not the most important one. After all, officers came and went; friends did, too. In the end, everyone was replaceable. New pawns could be made, new generals raised, and new sycophants bought, barely distinguishable from the last set. Isolde barely understood why they even bothered to be themselves, when they were all the same. How was that worth it?

“Hurry up, then,” she recommended to the cleaner, “Or do I have to remind you that I am about to receive a guest?”

Likely not, because that was always an event. Not many visited Isolde, much like Isolde herself didn’t visit many. Vrishaketu was something of a special case, though; a man important enough for her to carve some time for in her busy schedule.

That didn’t mean she was looking forward to the visit, though.

Talking was such a chore.

When her bodyguards brought him in, Isolde was sitting on her throne, wearing a black, elegant suit. “Good evening,” she greeted him. Then, because there was no point to wasting her breath with niceties: “I’m going to ask a very special thing of you tonight, my friend. Say – have you heard of Antonia Lenart?”

 

[Lucyfer]

“Close. Kome-ha’e,” Cassidy said it a bit slower before they reached the rats, so that Lilian would have time to take it in, and hear where the emphasis was in it. So far as anyone dangerous, well, Cassidy had to frown. It was probably true that Komeha’e wasn’t there to cause too much damage, but she was dangerous.

She could do a lot.

At least right now, she didn’t seem to want to, which was a positive.

And Cassidy just sighed at the comment of Silvon, “Yeah, he does,” which was problematic, but she’d kind of come to accept it by now. She hadn’t picked him, and he hadn’t picked her knowing much about her, either. Conflict was inevitable, and when one didn’t get old and die, there was a lot of time for differences and conflicts as one grew, and grew, and grew.

“But no, I haven’t…ever really met a nice rat.”

Cooperative, yes, but rats were a reviled creature, and it was hard for them to trust even a vampire that could talk to them. So, the greeting wasn’t unexpected. “Hi,” Cassidy said, “I’ve seen a lot of you.”

“Oh shit she understands us,” the first one panicked, and a second snapped their teeth at it.

“The fuck you expect? You know who runs this place, got all sorts of weirdos like that. What do you want kid? Scram, we ain’t got no business with you.”

“I’m looking for a woman, Kome’ha’e.”

“Yeah. So?”

“You know her?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You a friend?”

“We’re family.” More snapping jaws. Apparently not a satisfactory answer, which, no surprise with Silvon as family, “I just need to talk to her before Silvon finds her,” Cassidy sighed.

“Punk ass cat loving son of a—”

“Well. Maybe she went out. Day off and all. Sees a…person now and then, out at Huntridge Park.”

“Why the fuck you tellin’ her this? She could be plannin’ to off her!”

“She look threatenin’ to you?”

“Her friend do.”

“Her friend’s fuckin’ human.”

Now was not the time to mention Lilian was a hunter. “Um, thanks, we’ll…we’ll try and find her. If you see her before us, could you tell her Cassidy’s here?”

“Yeah yeah. Tell’er to get rid of that cat while you’re at it.”

“Fucking ugly thing….”

Cassidy turned away from the trash, a bemused expression on her face as she shook her head, “We’re gonna need to catch a cab. She’s at Huntridge Park. Maybe.” And Cassidy didn’t really know where, or what, that was. “The rats don’t really like Silvon. I guess his preferences finally became too well known.”

Not a great surprise, really.

“They thought you looked dangerous.”

~***~

Vrishaketu did not look like himself.

Vrishaketu had not looked like himself for well over five centuries, but that was the price he paid for starting a rebellion against both humanity and vampires, because humans needed to be subjugated, and vampires were fucking cowards. So now, he hopped from body to body as needed, usually picking human targets as they were far easier to control, once he’d drained them of their blood.

The body he lived in now had belonged to a ‘Jacob’, according to the identification, but he had that forged by Tristan and was now someone else, living somewhere else, because that’s usually what he did. Stealing an actual identity was irksome, but he had done it before. He would do it again.

Learning mannerisms and such was the hard part. People were willing to remind others of memories, in a lot of occasions, if he played it right.

At least the woman he was going to see, wasn’t anyone he had to pretend too much around. That was perhaps where his appreciation for Isolde began, and ended. Unfortunately, like all the other vampires, Isolde was also a coward. Sure, she believed in vampire superiority – and believed in her own superiority above all else. Her throne and her posturing always gave that away. It was worse than Amon, the fucking Sun God, which was definitely saying something.

She greeted him, and blessedly cut to the point.

Well, almost.

She had a stupid question to ask on top of that. ‘Do I remember the bitch who was part of the trial to condemn me for my crimes? The bitch who started making treaties with hunters, and truly sold us all the fuck out? Naaaah.’ Given, she had been doing that before, but it definitely increased rapidly after he began his rebellion.

Not to mention her own hypocrisy when the rules for vampire society started being laid down.

Oh sure, polite vampires didn’t mention things like past cannibalism, but Vrishaketu wasn’t polite.

It was also, likely, where Tristan got it from. The difference was, Vrishaketu knew when it wouldn’t matter to be impolite. Right now, with Isolde, who was an alliance of convenience, was not the time to be impolite. Her ego was worse than Amon’s, but sadly, she was as much a coward as Amon – unwilling to take her rightful place as an outward ruler. Amon at least stood at the forefront of the Optimates, while Isolde hid behind whatever shield was convenient.

Convenience was, indeed, ever the key word with Isolde.

“I am familiar with Antonia Lenart,” he answered, “she was among those who organized the hunters back when I made my bid for power. She’s rather hard to forget.” Hypocrite. Blood traitor. And yet less of a coward than either Isolde or Amon. Oh, she still hid – but even Tristan told Vrishaketu she was hiding as much as he was.

She was still very, very active in things the council would have her flayed alive for, and things they could prove, as easily as they could prove he was alive. That was, not at all. Not even Tristan had the proof.

“I presume you have grown tired of her campaign against the Veturia?” Why beat around the bush? He knew plenty, and Isolde likely knew enough to know where his information came from. Whether or not she truly knew the kind of shit Tristan got up to, or the shitposting group, just about every vampire knew Tristan, and knew Tristan had his eyes and ears everywhere.

Even if they just assumed it was cameras.

 

[Syntra]

The exchange was blessedly quick, and Lilian couldn't help the smile that tucked at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, yeah? Do you think I look dangerous, too?" Because she had sort of been wondering if that was the part of the appeal, given the whole vampire-hunter thing. Not that that was the defining thing about their dynamic; it hadn't played that role for quite a while, with Lilian's epic ragequit and whatnot. Still, perhaps leaning into the trope... could be fun. "I tend to think my intimidation factor has gone down the drain since meeting you," not even a lie, "Mainly since I prefer stealing hearts to staking them these days."

Or maybe not.

Real fucking smooth, Lilian Perry.

"Let's... just forget this ever happened, okay?" Lilian winced, her cheeks red, "No idea why I'm still trying to look cool in front of you."

But! The important thing was that they knew where to look for Komeha'e now -- or rather, that they would, soon. Lilian wasted no time in whipping her phone out and googling the location, because this was the 21st fucking century and staying clueless was for chumps. "Ah! Yeah, no need for us to do that. It's pretty close. See, we just gotta walk around the block for a bit and... it should already be visible from where we emerge? Here, take a look at the map."

It was a nice weather for walking, too, so she hooked her arm through Cassidy's, "Any idea what she is doing there? Something tells me admiring the flowers is not the right answer." It was never about that, even if it very well could have been. Vamps just... seemed too dramatic for these things? Even if, statistically speaking, they also had to spend a significant portion of their lives being fairly non-dramatic.

Most of them probably just did their own thing, without getting entangled in weird conspiracies, hunter wars, and deicides.

Of course, very few 'most' statements had ever applied to Lilian. Most people hadn't really been brainwashed by a cult, and most of those who had been also... hadn't said 'fuck you' to them in such a grandiose manner. The extra syndrome, as Eugene had called it, probably also caused her to attract other extra people.

In the context of that, her vampire girlfriend was the very definition of normal.

"Okay, so what do you expect me to do? Should I stand there and look vaguely threatening in case things go wrong?" Since Lilian could pull that off. In fact, what she often couldn't do was the innocent act; somehow, it seemed that her facial muscles didn't quite know how to assume a configuration that didn't scream murder.

That could be something of an advantage as well, though! Especially in situations such as... well, this one.

They only just reached the park, and barely ventured inside, when a painful jolt in her arm alerted her that not everything was fine, actually. The huntress looked up, obviously alarmed, and like clockwork, there it was!

Two figures -- Komeha'e, judging by the hair, and... some guy, holding her by the arm. The arrangement was clearly not as consensual as it ought to be, since she did not look as if she wanted to be there at all.

"Hey, asshole!" Lilian called out. "Nobody ever taught you that touching a lady against her will is a no-no?"

~***~

Ooh! So this was personal for poor Vrishaketu, as well. There was a flicker of amusement that came with the realization, as rare as it was fleeting; after all, not even Isolde could deny that it was funny to watch him try so hard to suppress his ire. The way they all tried to escape from their own emotions, as if that changed a thing!

Much like others, Vrishaketu likely believed it made him strong. Much like others, he was mistaken.

The truly powerful ones indulged their whims. They had no need to hide them, for they were true to themselves. What did Vrishaketu know about not hiding, though? Vrishaketu, who had spent the better part of the millennium running from himself?

He, too, was a fool.

Although a useful one.

"Tired?" she licked her lips. "No, not at all. It's the... opposite of that. I'm thinking our Antonia has finally gotten interesting enough, and that is why I'd like to grant her an audience." The kind of audience one didn't get to return from, but, details! Nobody liked to get too caught up in those. "Which is why I need her alive. Alive, and as herself. I presume it won't be too much trouble for one such as yourself?"

Oh, it likely would! With his usual methods denied to him, Vrishaketu would have to get more... hmm, creative. Think outside the box for once. That served her well enough; the man had been getting far too arrogant for his own good, and throwing him a curveball from time to time was necessary.

That, and Isolde really had no desire for a mindless puppet. Why get a pretty little bird when all you planned to do was to break its wings? No, she needed Antonia to sing for her.

"One more thing, though," Isolde raised her hand, "It has come to my attention that one of our own has joined Antonia's side. Apparently, the recent streak has mostly been her doing." The vampiress giggled, as if it was the most hilarious thing she had heard in her unlife, "It really is funny, Vrishaketu. You think you know your children, but you never really do. Nobody had ever expected anything out of Inga Singedottir, and just look at her go! She truly has become something beautiful. The butterfly is out of her cocoon, now."

Of course, she wasn't saying that just to get all misty-eyed over the wayward daughter, "Beautiful, but unnecessary. Sad as it is, she doesn't interest me nearly as much as our Antonia does. So, if you do end up meeting her -- do with her as you see fit."

If he murdered her?

Good enough!

But, to be frank, Isolde also saw better, more amusing ways to use the knowledge. Didn't Antonia trust her, after all? She had to! Otherwise Inga wouldn't be doing her dirty job for her, foolish as she ought to be. So, if Vrishaketu were to claim her body, and get close to Antonia that way... why, Isolde believed that would be called justice.