Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
This is a bit of fiction for @Esbilon and his Tale of the Crone V20 game. Mostly written as an exercise in getting in character with my Lasombra (after having not played Vampire since the 1990s). Although this fiction is written for fun, critique and suggestions on writing better are always welcome.
Sohio Building, 200 Public Square, Cleveland OH
Susan straightened in her chair when her intern arrived with company.
There were any number of reasons why Christine Taylor should have arrived alone. These were the offices of Mirror Print Consultancy LLC, based in the Sohio Building in Cleveland, Ohio. As a private capital management company that specialized in high-return start-ups, it was not the kind of place an employee brought unscheduled guests to. It was also 9pm, well past the time any curious friend or family would choose to visit an office.
Then there was the small matter that Christine was scheduled to be here for an entirely different, entirely secret reason.
"Mrs. Rosenthal?" the young college blonde asked from the doorway of the conference room.
"I see you brought a friend, Ms. Taylor."
Susan Rosenthal rose from her executive leather-bound chair and refrained from leaning over the highly polished oak conference table. Though such a posture might convey her ire, it was just as likely to make her seem tired or undermine the image of authority she projected. Instead, she tugged once on her white suit jacket to straighten it and simply stood there, her face impassive and expectant.
Her blonde intern cautiously entered the conference room, wearing a soft blue summer dress made acceptable by a cream cable knit top with matching heels. Christine quickly stepped to the side to permit the other girl to enter. The guest wore a thin red top tucked into pleated slacks, not exactly business formal but likely the best a college student could do. This brunette wore a matching set of gold earrings and necklace at least, she'd bothered with makeup without overdoing it and her nails were freshly painted. Painted well, Susan judged as she walked around the conference table, crossed a stylish modern carpet and listened to her heels click on the glossy cantera stone flooring as she moved to shake the visitor's hand.
"Mrs. Rosenthal? I'm Becky Stone, one of Christine's friends. She mentioned-"
"I didn't," Christine said, her words almost tripping each other up in their rush to escape her panicked mouth. "I mean, I-"
"Let me guess," Susan said. "Becky's struggling with tuition like you were and you mentioned you had an internship here that might have room for another discreet applicant?"
"Exactly. She was telling me about her situation, I mean she brought it up a couple of times over the past couple of weeks and I knew my monthly review was tonight so I scheduled her a visit with security and reception downstairs and-"
Becky cleared her throat, plainly uncomfortable. That marked her as plainly perceptive, given Susan had put a smile on that hadn't shown a fraction of her displeasure. "Perhaps I should wait in the lobby, Christy. I should have made an appointment, Mrs. Rosenthal, I''m sorry if I've intruded."
"Ms. Stone, it's quite alright. I'll admit to being a bit surprised but I'm not upset. Has Christine explained anything about Mirror Print Consultancy's internship program here?"
The brunette college student shook her head slowly but her eyes never left the other woman's face. The fine hairs on the back of Susan's neck rose. Becky seemed quite innocuous, dressed and of an age with the college girl she seemed to be. Her black leather purse was on the large size but it happened to exactly match Christine's so nothing unusual there. Still, Susan was cautious by nature and briefly consulted her Blackberry, even as she waved the other two girls to a seat at the conference table facing the western wall of windows overlooking the Cleveland Public Square.
Under the guise of checking her email, she tapped a macro setup in her phone that would alert her private security that there might be a problem. Then Susan retook her executive leather-bound chair, putting her back to the windows and the expansive view of Cleveland they offered.
"I suppose I should explain a few things then. First, this is a private position of great confidentiality. Although you would be an employee of Mirror Print Consultancy which I own, you would report to me. I ask for the small investment of ten hours a week of your time, usually assisting one of my account managers. As tonight demonstrates, I also ask for one evening a month in which I review your work and offer professional feedback."
"More than fair," Becky said, casting a quick glance at Christine.
"Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" Susan cleared her throat, looked the college girl in the eyes and said "Speak."
As power went, it was subtle but significant. She could feel the strength of it, of her command, as it weighed down the word. Unusually enough, Becky seemed to feel it as well. The college student flinched slightly, stiffened and opened her purse.
"I'm an Anthropology major, I'm from New Orleans and I protect my friends from monsters."
At that point, Becky produced a sizable revolver of some kind from her black leather handbag. Susan was so astonished at the improbable sight that she didn't even raise her arms when Becky squeezed the trigger and put a bullet right into her chest. Contrary to popular cinema, the bullet slammed into her with a lot less force than she'd expected. There was no reason to give up a tactical opportunity though, so Susan let herself fall backwards out of her chair, tumbling out of it and rolling across that nice modern carpet onto the smooth cantera stone floor.
"Becky! What the hell!"
Susan lay prone on the ground, one hand outstretched to the nearby carpet as if begging for mercy, one gripping her chest where the bullet hit. It hurt but without the attendant flashes of hot and cold that came with shock. Not like that night of the crash ten years ago. Nothing hurt like that had.
Meanwhile, Becky rose from her own seat and crossed the distance between them, keeping her revolver leveled on what seemed uncomfortably like a headshot. Christine continued to yell in shock and horror. And of course there was no sign of Susan's security yet. Looks like she needed to make an appointment with Ironsmith Security to discuss the turnaround time on their employees. What is the name of my account manager over there, anyway?
"Stay back, Christy," Becky warned, coming to a stop and squaring her feet.
Smithson? Smith? Smythe?
"Becks, that's Mrs. Rosenthal, goddamnit!"
Mmmm, no, probably Smith. Clifford Smith? Carl Smith?
"She's a goddamn vampire, Christine!"
Calvin Smith was the name. With her long black hair obscuring her face, Susan smiled to herself at finally fetching the fact. Just then, the doors to the conference room crashed open, giving her the cue she'd waited for. She tightened her fingers on the carpet and felt the astounding potency of her blood surge through her veins. With a single, great pull, she yanked the carpet out and across the room.
Immediately, the whole conference table flipped over. Becky spilled across the floor instantly, colliding with the first private security guard who swept in. Chairs clattered as they rolled across the stone flooring. And Christine...dammit.
The poor hapless blonde had the great misfortune of being thrown through one of those gorgeous windows offering a panoramic view of Cleveland.
Groaning, Susan rolled to her feet and made her way to the broken glass. Despite the shroud of evening, bright street lights and the still-lit windows of the Sohio Building, provided plenty of illumination to see by. Enough to take in a spectacle right out of a movie script.
By the looks of things, Christine had fallen two stories, from the top floor suite to the 39th floor where she'd somehow lucked out by landing in scaffolding presumably there for window cleaning or some arcane building maintenance purpose. The blonde's luck only went so far, though; upon landing she'd fallen right through the side of it, only to accidentally hook her purse strap somehow. This left Christine dangling from her purse a full thirty nine stories up.
Even if Susan's intern hardly weighed more than a hundred pounds, that was quite the purse!
Far below, the pavement of the parking lot suddenly swooped up in Susan's gaze, falling in reverse. Vertigo gripped her and she in turn gripped the window frame. Her stomach rolled like the plane had, ten years ago. That sickening, hideous roll had followed the sheer shock of an explosion. A moment of near weightlessness as she fell, the roaring of engines falling away distantly to be replaced by the rushing of wind. Falling. Oh God the ground and there was nothing she could do, nothing but pray to a God she'd never believed in. Nothing to do but wait for death and, God, why was it taking so long and Oh God it's coming up, it's almost here, please n-
She shook violently in the empty steel frame where the window had been, fingers denting the metal as her desperation not to fall overcame her. It didn't help that she could hear screaming again, screaming the way she'd screamed. But it wasn't her. Not this time.
Swallowing hard, Susan opened eyes she hadn't realized she'd shut and looked down. Christine Taylor hung to her purse for dear life but it was an impossibly tenuous grip. Either the mortal girl's strength would give out or that improbably sturdy leather strap would. There was no time to wait for rescue, for someone else to save this girl.
A bullet hit the window next to her, blowing shards out into the empty black sky and filling Susan with new terror. She spun back to the conference room and her jaw dropped open as she saw one of the security officers laid out on the floor. Becky and the second struggled for control of the college girl's revolver but the athletic brunette kept landing blows to the man's torso with her knees, her elbows and the wall itself. What the hell was this college girl?
Susan crossed her office, wishing futilely that she'd worn suit pants instead of the charcoal dress skirt she'd chosen this morning before the sun had put her to sleep. Just as Becky clubbed the guard behind the head with the revolver hilt, Susan caught the college student by the shoulders and ran her opponent out of the conference room, through the doors and right through the side of the office corridor.
Powdered chunks of drywall spilled across the floor and Susan's already tragically doomed white suit jacket. Dammit. Becky's back hit a solid wood bracing and the gun flew out of her hand, going God knows where. Susan didn't waste time looking for it. While the hunter was winded, for what else could the shockingly capable student be, Susan slipped out of her heels and ran to the stairwell as fast as she could.
She drew her Blackberry and dialed from memory as she shouldered open the stairwell door.
"Mr. Smith, this is Susan Rosenthal over at Mirror Print Consultancy. There's an armed woman chasing me. I'd appreciate it if you made good on your company's claim of twice the response time of the police. I'll be timing you."
That call completed, she wrinkled her nose as she leaped down sections of stair. The air was musty here and smelled slightly of sweat, no doubt from select employees who worked here during the day taking their lunch or break time to get some exercise. Plain white walls were dubiously scuffed in places, even though they'd never been used to haul furniture or anything else that could go up an elevator.
Just above, the stairwell door slammed open. So far, Susan hadn't seen much evidence of Ms. Stone's professionalism, customer service or industry knowledge but she definitely earned high marks for enthusiasm and determination. She swiped her security badge and pushed hard against the release bar of the door two floors down. Then Susan dialed again.
She was halfway down the hallway when the phone went to voicemail. As always, her husband Sam's voice made her smile even while running for her life. "Hi Sweetheart, I'm running between meetings at the moment so I might be a little later than 10pm. Can you make sure Jason and Kimberly are at least in their rooms by then? They may be teenagers but it'd be nice if 10pm still means something."
Susan paused as she reached the door to the office immediately below the conference room. With one hand, she tried the handle and found it secured. Glancing back, the solution presented itself in the form of Becky Stone and a truly spectacular flying kick. Susan simply stepped to the right, got her hand on the hunter's side and used the girl's own momentum to hurl Becky through the locked door.
"Sorry about that, Sweetie," Susan added as she stepped over the smashed in door and the slightly stunned hunter at her feet. "Just some people reconfiguring furniture to accommodate a surprise last-minute client. If you're in bed by the time I get there, I'll see you then, okay? Love you and be there soon."
She slipped the phone back into the inner suit pocket of her coat and managed to break open a floor-to-ceiling window like hers with a snatched up chair. Vertigo once more assailed her as she looked out at the scaffolding Christine hung from, and the the abyss of open black space beyond. Susan was almost grateful for the sudden snapping sound that gave her a reason to glance away.
Becky rose from the wreckage of the office door, one hand wiping a rope of blood from a split lip away. The other clenched a wooden chair leg snapped off into a crude stake. There was something unmistakably feral about the young woman, not lupine exactly but ferocious and predatory as only they or vampires tended to be.
"Bad spot to run to, bloodsucker."
"If you must address me, Ms. Stone, I'd prefer Mrs. Rosenthal or ma'am. Even Susan would do, though I don't generally encourage informality with job seekers."
The look on the hunter's face was priceless surprise. Then Becky's visage hardened. "Good moves but they seem more like desperation than real skill. No gun either. I'm betting you're overmatched, Suzie. What I don't understand is why you ran here rather than heading down to the first floor. Planning to jump?" The college student shook her head once. "If you were, you'd have done it upstairs."
Susan winced at 'Suzie', then nodded. "Quite right," she said as she peeked over her shoulder and backed her way onto the scaffolding. Sadly enough, facing away from the endless pit below didn't help her nerves. It only made her feel more at risk and she leaned against the metal window frame, taking security in its solidity. The way the scaffolding swayed under her weight and Christine's struggling certainly didn't provide much feeling of safety.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to save your friend's life," Susan said, not bothering to suppress a sigh of exasperation. "I could use a hand if you're not too busy."
Once more, the hunter was astonished. Under other circumstances, this would have been the ideal time to make a play for the stake or escape somehow. Sadly, Christine's grip chose that moment to slip and all of Susan's attention went to catching the poor girl's arm before she dropped beyond reach.
Vampiric strength wasn't everything though. Susan didn't weigh much more than Christine did and the sudden doubling of her weight unbalanced her, yanked her halfway off the scaffolding herself. Her death-like grip on the swinging frame kept her from plummeting in a horrifically familiar drop to die for a second time on the hard pavement of the ground. This wasn't the airplane, there's no bomb and odds are good I can't die from a fall from this height.
All the mental reassurance in the world didn't do a bit of good, though. Despite her best intentions, Susan couldn't manage to do much more than hang onto the frame and hang on to the scrambling, struggling Christine. She willed herself to rise, begged her limbs to respond but nothing moved. Not that it would probably do much good. Even with the vampire blood firing her veins, Susan had never been athletic in life and trying to pull up a woman who weighed as much as she did with only one hand was likely beyond her.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Susan lifted her head, once more opened eyes she didn't know were shut, and peered up at the hunter above. "Would you believe me if I told you I hadn't actually thought this through?"
Becky grinned then, and there was a look of wonderment there, as if she'd never expected to smile.
"I don't know what your play is, lady, but let me help you up, okay?"
"I'd question your motives," Susan said, her voice deliberately casual. "But I expect if you dropped me, you'd drop your friend. Besides, the longer I'm out here, the more I find myself wishing I hadn't worn a skirt."
The two women exchanged a tense smile before, between them, they managed to haul up the utterly shellshocked Christine. Both Susan and her intern crawled onto the floor, catching their breath, while Becky backed away and retrieved her stake. Susan thought about mounting some kind of defense but the sheer relief of being back on solid ground and not dangling over the abyss was too much to fight through.
"T-Thank you," Christine murmured at last, barely managing the words through clenched teeth.
"I've invested two years into your education," Susan said, smiling affectionately at the blonde student. "You can't imagine I'd let you come to harm, can you? I hope you'll accept my apology for putting you in harm's way, though."
"That's Becky's fault," Christine said, finally rising above her lingering fear to shoot a glare at her friend.
"You can't seriously be siding with a vampire over me," Becky said, hands resting on her hips, stake still dangling from the right. "She's a vampire! You're not even a little freaked? Or are you too Renfield to notice?"
"She's not my master, you moron!" the blonde yelled. "She's paying for my schooling!"
"...What?"
"Why do you think I brought you here?"
"To be her next meal?" Becky said slowly. "I figured-"
"Yeah, so I'm a little pale once a month, big deal. I'm going to graduate without any loans and my resume is going to look awesome. I know you're having a tough time with money, that's why I brought you."
The hunter's gaze finally settled on Susan who only now had felt enough of her fear of heights recede to manage sitting up. "What kind of vampire are you?"
"The kind who had a life before dying in a plane wreck," Susan said, brushing a stray lock of black hair out of her face. "The kind who still has one. Mirror Print Consultancy is my family's business and I helped make it what it is. I'm still building it actually, expanding our portfolio, improving our assessment metrics and refining a start-up launch process to improve their likelihood of thriving. If you're capable of doing more than shooting things, Ms. Stone, perhaps you could be a part of that."
It was a good business pitch and one that had much of the desired effect of calming the hunter down. Susan took the time Becky spent thinking to wrestle herself back under control. Now that she was safe and no longer running, hunger swept through her slender frame. She felt her fangs lengthen and only vigorous conscious control kept them from extending all the way. The smells of Christine's fear and Becky's bloody lip made her ache. Soon. Just be patient.
"I don't buy it," Becky said at last. "I've never met a bloodsucker who didn't get their kicks murdering people."
"I won't claim that hunger never takes control of me," Susan said with a shrug. "I need blood to survive and its scarcity can drive even the most disciplined vampire to rampage. That's why I've devised the internship program I use at Mirror Print Consultancy. Several dozen college students gain valuable experience while having their tuition paid for. In exchange, I don't go hungry. But I don't kill them, Ms. Stone. Beyond the ethical issues at stake, there's the simply practical; it takes at least a year to train up a replacement. Besides, several of them have devised pitches excellent enough for me to invest in, which makes them and me rich. I have little to gain and a great deal to lose by feeding to the point of death, you see."
The hunter just shook her head. Doubt stole her conviction though and Susan knew she'd won. Reaching into her suit jacket, the vampire placed a call to a local specialty service dedicated to cleaning up crime scenes and doing swift repairs to cover up breeches of the Masquerade. They weren't perfect but, thanks to Mirror Print Consultancy, they had three times their previous operating budget.
"Now, I have some notes to finish from today's meetings," Susan said as she closed her phone. "And then I have a husband and children to get home to. I'm sure the two of you have much to talk about. Christine, I'll understand if you're too shaken after tonight's events to manage my requirements. If you'd like, I'll call Anthony instead and arrange a cab to take you both home."
"No, that's okay Mrs. Rosenthal." Christine stood up and the three women exchanged uncomfortable looks in someone else's office. "You saved my life out there. The least I can do is give you a bite to eat."
"You're very kind," Susan said, smiling to show her appreciation. Then she glanced at Becky Stone and retrieved a slim business card from another pocket in Susan's suit coat. "My contact information, Ms. Stone, should you change your mind. Given your...impressive skillset, you may be less inclined to donate as Christine does but I suspect there are other things the two of us could offer each other. Something to think about for later."
"I'll never work for a vampire," Becky said. But again, doubt stole her conviction and it took effort for Susan to repress a smile. A smile of success.
Then she tucked the business card into the hunter's hand anyway. Networking could accomplish as much in Cleveland as it could anywhere she'd ever lived. And networking was only one of Susan's many abilities.
"Mrs. Rosenthal?"
The vampire looked away from the two mortal girls towards the half dozen men armed with rifles and wearing body armor. Though the guns were mostly pointed at Becky and Christine, it was obvious these security officers weren't entirely sure about their target. Susan just shook her head, checked her phone and held it up for them to see.
"7 minutes, 39 seconds? Looks like I need to have a talk with Calvin Smith."
Sohio Building, 200 Public Square, Cleveland OH
Susan straightened in her chair when her intern arrived with company.
There were any number of reasons why Christine Taylor should have arrived alone. These were the offices of Mirror Print Consultancy LLC, based in the Sohio Building in Cleveland, Ohio. As a private capital management company that specialized in high-return start-ups, it was not the kind of place an employee brought unscheduled guests to. It was also 9pm, well past the time any curious friend or family would choose to visit an office.
Then there was the small matter that Christine was scheduled to be here for an entirely different, entirely secret reason.
"Mrs. Rosenthal?" the young college blonde asked from the doorway of the conference room.
"I see you brought a friend, Ms. Taylor."
Susan Rosenthal rose from her executive leather-bound chair and refrained from leaning over the highly polished oak conference table. Though such a posture might convey her ire, it was just as likely to make her seem tired or undermine the image of authority she projected. Instead, she tugged once on her white suit jacket to straighten it and simply stood there, her face impassive and expectant.
Her blonde intern cautiously entered the conference room, wearing a soft blue summer dress made acceptable by a cream cable knit top with matching heels. Christine quickly stepped to the side to permit the other girl to enter. The guest wore a thin red top tucked into pleated slacks, not exactly business formal but likely the best a college student could do. This brunette wore a matching set of gold earrings and necklace at least, she'd bothered with makeup without overdoing it and her nails were freshly painted. Painted well, Susan judged as she walked around the conference table, crossed a stylish modern carpet and listened to her heels click on the glossy cantera stone flooring as she moved to shake the visitor's hand.
"Mrs. Rosenthal? I'm Becky Stone, one of Christine's friends. She mentioned-"
"I didn't," Christine said, her words almost tripping each other up in their rush to escape her panicked mouth. "I mean, I-"
"Let me guess," Susan said. "Becky's struggling with tuition like you were and you mentioned you had an internship here that might have room for another discreet applicant?"
"Exactly. She was telling me about her situation, I mean she brought it up a couple of times over the past couple of weeks and I knew my monthly review was tonight so I scheduled her a visit with security and reception downstairs and-"
Becky cleared her throat, plainly uncomfortable. That marked her as plainly perceptive, given Susan had put a smile on that hadn't shown a fraction of her displeasure. "Perhaps I should wait in the lobby, Christy. I should have made an appointment, Mrs. Rosenthal, I''m sorry if I've intruded."
"Ms. Stone, it's quite alright. I'll admit to being a bit surprised but I'm not upset. Has Christine explained anything about Mirror Print Consultancy's internship program here?"
The brunette college student shook her head slowly but her eyes never left the other woman's face. The fine hairs on the back of Susan's neck rose. Becky seemed quite innocuous, dressed and of an age with the college girl she seemed to be. Her black leather purse was on the large size but it happened to exactly match Christine's so nothing unusual there. Still, Susan was cautious by nature and briefly consulted her Blackberry, even as she waved the other two girls to a seat at the conference table facing the western wall of windows overlooking the Cleveland Public Square.
Under the guise of checking her email, she tapped a macro setup in her phone that would alert her private security that there might be a problem. Then Susan retook her executive leather-bound chair, putting her back to the windows and the expansive view of Cleveland they offered.
"I suppose I should explain a few things then. First, this is a private position of great confidentiality. Although you would be an employee of Mirror Print Consultancy which I own, you would report to me. I ask for the small investment of ten hours a week of your time, usually assisting one of my account managers. As tonight demonstrates, I also ask for one evening a month in which I review your work and offer professional feedback."
"More than fair," Becky said, casting a quick glance at Christine.
"Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" Susan cleared her throat, looked the college girl in the eyes and said "Speak."
As power went, it was subtle but significant. She could feel the strength of it, of her command, as it weighed down the word. Unusually enough, Becky seemed to feel it as well. The college student flinched slightly, stiffened and opened her purse.
"I'm an Anthropology major, I'm from New Orleans and I protect my friends from monsters."
At that point, Becky produced a sizable revolver of some kind from her black leather handbag. Susan was so astonished at the improbable sight that she didn't even raise her arms when Becky squeezed the trigger and put a bullet right into her chest. Contrary to popular cinema, the bullet slammed into her with a lot less force than she'd expected. There was no reason to give up a tactical opportunity though, so Susan let herself fall backwards out of her chair, tumbling out of it and rolling across that nice modern carpet onto the smooth cantera stone floor.
"Becky! What the hell!"
Susan lay prone on the ground, one hand outstretched to the nearby carpet as if begging for mercy, one gripping her chest where the bullet hit. It hurt but without the attendant flashes of hot and cold that came with shock. Not like that night of the crash ten years ago. Nothing hurt like that had.
Meanwhile, Becky rose from her own seat and crossed the distance between them, keeping her revolver leveled on what seemed uncomfortably like a headshot. Christine continued to yell in shock and horror. And of course there was no sign of Susan's security yet. Looks like she needed to make an appointment with Ironsmith Security to discuss the turnaround time on their employees. What is the name of my account manager over there, anyway?
"Stay back, Christy," Becky warned, coming to a stop and squaring her feet.
Smithson? Smith? Smythe?
"Becks, that's Mrs. Rosenthal, goddamnit!"
Mmmm, no, probably Smith. Clifford Smith? Carl Smith?
"She's a goddamn vampire, Christine!"
Calvin Smith was the name. With her long black hair obscuring her face, Susan smiled to herself at finally fetching the fact. Just then, the doors to the conference room crashed open, giving her the cue she'd waited for. She tightened her fingers on the carpet and felt the astounding potency of her blood surge through her veins. With a single, great pull, she yanked the carpet out and across the room.
Immediately, the whole conference table flipped over. Becky spilled across the floor instantly, colliding with the first private security guard who swept in. Chairs clattered as they rolled across the stone flooring. And Christine...dammit.
The poor hapless blonde had the great misfortune of being thrown through one of those gorgeous windows offering a panoramic view of Cleveland.
Groaning, Susan rolled to her feet and made her way to the broken glass. Despite the shroud of evening, bright street lights and the still-lit windows of the Sohio Building, provided plenty of illumination to see by. Enough to take in a spectacle right out of a movie script.
By the looks of things, Christine had fallen two stories, from the top floor suite to the 39th floor where she'd somehow lucked out by landing in scaffolding presumably there for window cleaning or some arcane building maintenance purpose. The blonde's luck only went so far, though; upon landing she'd fallen right through the side of it, only to accidentally hook her purse strap somehow. This left Christine dangling from her purse a full thirty nine stories up.
Even if Susan's intern hardly weighed more than a hundred pounds, that was quite the purse!
Far below, the pavement of the parking lot suddenly swooped up in Susan's gaze, falling in reverse. Vertigo gripped her and she in turn gripped the window frame. Her stomach rolled like the plane had, ten years ago. That sickening, hideous roll had followed the sheer shock of an explosion. A moment of near weightlessness as she fell, the roaring of engines falling away distantly to be replaced by the rushing of wind. Falling. Oh God the ground and there was nothing she could do, nothing but pray to a God she'd never believed in. Nothing to do but wait for death and, God, why was it taking so long and Oh God it's coming up, it's almost here, please n-
She shook violently in the empty steel frame where the window had been, fingers denting the metal as her desperation not to fall overcame her. It didn't help that she could hear screaming again, screaming the way she'd screamed. But it wasn't her. Not this time.
Swallowing hard, Susan opened eyes she hadn't realized she'd shut and looked down. Christine Taylor hung to her purse for dear life but it was an impossibly tenuous grip. Either the mortal girl's strength would give out or that improbably sturdy leather strap would. There was no time to wait for rescue, for someone else to save this girl.
A bullet hit the window next to her, blowing shards out into the empty black sky and filling Susan with new terror. She spun back to the conference room and her jaw dropped open as she saw one of the security officers laid out on the floor. Becky and the second struggled for control of the college girl's revolver but the athletic brunette kept landing blows to the man's torso with her knees, her elbows and the wall itself. What the hell was this college girl?
Susan crossed her office, wishing futilely that she'd worn suit pants instead of the charcoal dress skirt she'd chosen this morning before the sun had put her to sleep. Just as Becky clubbed the guard behind the head with the revolver hilt, Susan caught the college student by the shoulders and ran her opponent out of the conference room, through the doors and right through the side of the office corridor.
Powdered chunks of drywall spilled across the floor and Susan's already tragically doomed white suit jacket. Dammit. Becky's back hit a solid wood bracing and the gun flew out of her hand, going God knows where. Susan didn't waste time looking for it. While the hunter was winded, for what else could the shockingly capable student be, Susan slipped out of her heels and ran to the stairwell as fast as she could.
She drew her Blackberry and dialed from memory as she shouldered open the stairwell door.
"Mr. Smith, this is Susan Rosenthal over at Mirror Print Consultancy. There's an armed woman chasing me. I'd appreciate it if you made good on your company's claim of twice the response time of the police. I'll be timing you."
That call completed, she wrinkled her nose as she leaped down sections of stair. The air was musty here and smelled slightly of sweat, no doubt from select employees who worked here during the day taking their lunch or break time to get some exercise. Plain white walls were dubiously scuffed in places, even though they'd never been used to haul furniture or anything else that could go up an elevator.
Just above, the stairwell door slammed open. So far, Susan hadn't seen much evidence of Ms. Stone's professionalism, customer service or industry knowledge but she definitely earned high marks for enthusiasm and determination. She swiped her security badge and pushed hard against the release bar of the door two floors down. Then Susan dialed again.
She was halfway down the hallway when the phone went to voicemail. As always, her husband Sam's voice made her smile even while running for her life. "Hi Sweetheart, I'm running between meetings at the moment so I might be a little later than 10pm. Can you make sure Jason and Kimberly are at least in their rooms by then? They may be teenagers but it'd be nice if 10pm still means something."
Susan paused as she reached the door to the office immediately below the conference room. With one hand, she tried the handle and found it secured. Glancing back, the solution presented itself in the form of Becky Stone and a truly spectacular flying kick. Susan simply stepped to the right, got her hand on the hunter's side and used the girl's own momentum to hurl Becky through the locked door.
"Sorry about that, Sweetie," Susan added as she stepped over the smashed in door and the slightly stunned hunter at her feet. "Just some people reconfiguring furniture to accommodate a surprise last-minute client. If you're in bed by the time I get there, I'll see you then, okay? Love you and be there soon."
She slipped the phone back into the inner suit pocket of her coat and managed to break open a floor-to-ceiling window like hers with a snatched up chair. Vertigo once more assailed her as she looked out at the scaffolding Christine hung from, and the the abyss of open black space beyond. Susan was almost grateful for the sudden snapping sound that gave her a reason to glance away.
Becky rose from the wreckage of the office door, one hand wiping a rope of blood from a split lip away. The other clenched a wooden chair leg snapped off into a crude stake. There was something unmistakably feral about the young woman, not lupine exactly but ferocious and predatory as only they or vampires tended to be.
"Bad spot to run to, bloodsucker."
"If you must address me, Ms. Stone, I'd prefer Mrs. Rosenthal or ma'am. Even Susan would do, though I don't generally encourage informality with job seekers."
The look on the hunter's face was priceless surprise. Then Becky's visage hardened. "Good moves but they seem more like desperation than real skill. No gun either. I'm betting you're overmatched, Suzie. What I don't understand is why you ran here rather than heading down to the first floor. Planning to jump?" The college student shook her head once. "If you were, you'd have done it upstairs."
Susan winced at 'Suzie', then nodded. "Quite right," she said as she peeked over her shoulder and backed her way onto the scaffolding. Sadly enough, facing away from the endless pit below didn't help her nerves. It only made her feel more at risk and she leaned against the metal window frame, taking security in its solidity. The way the scaffolding swayed under her weight and Christine's struggling certainly didn't provide much feeling of safety.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to save your friend's life," Susan said, not bothering to suppress a sigh of exasperation. "I could use a hand if you're not too busy."
Once more, the hunter was astonished. Under other circumstances, this would have been the ideal time to make a play for the stake or escape somehow. Sadly, Christine's grip chose that moment to slip and all of Susan's attention went to catching the poor girl's arm before she dropped beyond reach.
Vampiric strength wasn't everything though. Susan didn't weigh much more than Christine did and the sudden doubling of her weight unbalanced her, yanked her halfway off the scaffolding herself. Her death-like grip on the swinging frame kept her from plummeting in a horrifically familiar drop to die for a second time on the hard pavement of the ground. This wasn't the airplane, there's no bomb and odds are good I can't die from a fall from this height.
All the mental reassurance in the world didn't do a bit of good, though. Despite her best intentions, Susan couldn't manage to do much more than hang onto the frame and hang on to the scrambling, struggling Christine. She willed herself to rise, begged her limbs to respond but nothing moved. Not that it would probably do much good. Even with the vampire blood firing her veins, Susan had never been athletic in life and trying to pull up a woman who weighed as much as she did with only one hand was likely beyond her.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Susan lifted her head, once more opened eyes she didn't know were shut, and peered up at the hunter above. "Would you believe me if I told you I hadn't actually thought this through?"
Becky grinned then, and there was a look of wonderment there, as if she'd never expected to smile.
"I don't know what your play is, lady, but let me help you up, okay?"
"I'd question your motives," Susan said, her voice deliberately casual. "But I expect if you dropped me, you'd drop your friend. Besides, the longer I'm out here, the more I find myself wishing I hadn't worn a skirt."
The two women exchanged a tense smile before, between them, they managed to haul up the utterly shellshocked Christine. Both Susan and her intern crawled onto the floor, catching their breath, while Becky backed away and retrieved her stake. Susan thought about mounting some kind of defense but the sheer relief of being back on solid ground and not dangling over the abyss was too much to fight through.
"T-Thank you," Christine murmured at last, barely managing the words through clenched teeth.
"I've invested two years into your education," Susan said, smiling affectionately at the blonde student. "You can't imagine I'd let you come to harm, can you? I hope you'll accept my apology for putting you in harm's way, though."
"That's Becky's fault," Christine said, finally rising above her lingering fear to shoot a glare at her friend.
"You can't seriously be siding with a vampire over me," Becky said, hands resting on her hips, stake still dangling from the right. "She's a vampire! You're not even a little freaked? Or are you too Renfield to notice?"
"She's not my master, you moron!" the blonde yelled. "She's paying for my schooling!"
"...What?"
"Why do you think I brought you here?"
"To be her next meal?" Becky said slowly. "I figured-"
"Yeah, so I'm a little pale once a month, big deal. I'm going to graduate without any loans and my resume is going to look awesome. I know you're having a tough time with money, that's why I brought you."
The hunter's gaze finally settled on Susan who only now had felt enough of her fear of heights recede to manage sitting up. "What kind of vampire are you?"
"The kind who had a life before dying in a plane wreck," Susan said, brushing a stray lock of black hair out of her face. "The kind who still has one. Mirror Print Consultancy is my family's business and I helped make it what it is. I'm still building it actually, expanding our portfolio, improving our assessment metrics and refining a start-up launch process to improve their likelihood of thriving. If you're capable of doing more than shooting things, Ms. Stone, perhaps you could be a part of that."
It was a good business pitch and one that had much of the desired effect of calming the hunter down. Susan took the time Becky spent thinking to wrestle herself back under control. Now that she was safe and no longer running, hunger swept through her slender frame. She felt her fangs lengthen and only vigorous conscious control kept them from extending all the way. The smells of Christine's fear and Becky's bloody lip made her ache. Soon. Just be patient.
"I don't buy it," Becky said at last. "I've never met a bloodsucker who didn't get their kicks murdering people."
"I won't claim that hunger never takes control of me," Susan said with a shrug. "I need blood to survive and its scarcity can drive even the most disciplined vampire to rampage. That's why I've devised the internship program I use at Mirror Print Consultancy. Several dozen college students gain valuable experience while having their tuition paid for. In exchange, I don't go hungry. But I don't kill them, Ms. Stone. Beyond the ethical issues at stake, there's the simply practical; it takes at least a year to train up a replacement. Besides, several of them have devised pitches excellent enough for me to invest in, which makes them and me rich. I have little to gain and a great deal to lose by feeding to the point of death, you see."
The hunter just shook her head. Doubt stole her conviction though and Susan knew she'd won. Reaching into her suit jacket, the vampire placed a call to a local specialty service dedicated to cleaning up crime scenes and doing swift repairs to cover up breeches of the Masquerade. They weren't perfect but, thanks to Mirror Print Consultancy, they had three times their previous operating budget.
"Now, I have some notes to finish from today's meetings," Susan said as she closed her phone. "And then I have a husband and children to get home to. I'm sure the two of you have much to talk about. Christine, I'll understand if you're too shaken after tonight's events to manage my requirements. If you'd like, I'll call Anthony instead and arrange a cab to take you both home."
"No, that's okay Mrs. Rosenthal." Christine stood up and the three women exchanged uncomfortable looks in someone else's office. "You saved my life out there. The least I can do is give you a bite to eat."
"You're very kind," Susan said, smiling to show her appreciation. Then she glanced at Becky Stone and retrieved a slim business card from another pocket in Susan's suit coat. "My contact information, Ms. Stone, should you change your mind. Given your...impressive skillset, you may be less inclined to donate as Christine does but I suspect there are other things the two of us could offer each other. Something to think about for later."
"I'll never work for a vampire," Becky said. But again, doubt stole her conviction and it took effort for Susan to repress a smile. A smile of success.
Then she tucked the business card into the hunter's hand anyway. Networking could accomplish as much in Cleveland as it could anywhere she'd ever lived. And networking was only one of Susan's many abilities.
"Mrs. Rosenthal?"
The vampire looked away from the two mortal girls towards the half dozen men armed with rifles and wearing body armor. Though the guns were mostly pointed at Becky and Christine, it was obvious these security officers weren't entirely sure about their target. Susan just shook her head, checked her phone and held it up for them to see.
"7 minutes, 39 seconds? Looks like I need to have a talk with Calvin Smith."
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