Chapter 1:
Stained with Blood

As soon as Karliah's last client went upstairs to the street and she locked the door, a monstrous hand grabbed her by the neck and threw her down the stairs. The Malkavian stood up, ready to recite her mantra of madness, but someone with a powerful presence seized her from behind with a gag and whispered in her ear:

"You came to my city, didn't introduce yourself, and even provided information that helped the Anarchists conquer part of my territory. Tell me, Madame Kristal, is there any good reason why I shouldn't grant you permanent death?"

The intruder hadn't tied her hands, Karliah could wriggle and grab the sharp knitting needle she carried in her boot and plunge it into his neck. Then, send the troglodyte's mind to a place never before visited. However, the invader wasn't holding her tightly or hurting her, only preventing her from speaking. Besides, he emanated a feeling she hadn't felt since receiving her Embrace. It was a delicate and persistent warmth that she had felt only with a few partners.

He'll be hoisted by his own petard, said one of the Voices in her head.

Seduction wouldn't work on her, and Karliah imagined the Ventrue already knew this, so that seductive presence was unintentional, which made the whole situation more intriguing. He loosened his grip, removed the gag, and spoke in a cordial tone:

"I would like very much if you cooperated with me and explained everything you plan to do in my city, why you helped the Anarchists, and why you didn't present yourself at my tower. Sit down and tell me everything."

Karliah couldn't resist such cordiality. She sat in the chair where she conducted her readings, and faced the intruder. He was a man of European descent, elegant, well-dressed, well-groomed, and definitely a Ventrue. No one she knew.

The Prince followed Cinderella's footprints, one of the Voices commented.

"I'm saving money for a trip. They paid for it. I don’t know you. As soon as I was born—"

The Ventrue raised his hand to interrupt the life story that was about to unfold.

"You don't know who I am? You come to Los Angeles and you don't know who I am?" he asked, a little resentful.

She remained staring at the intruder with an overwhelming desire to help and be useful, but she had no idea who he was.

"No. Yes and no."

"Let's clear up this misunderstanding, then. I am Sebastian LaCroix, Prince of Los Angeles."

"Karliah Karmina Karmen, occultist."

Sebastian smiled, made a polite bow, and sat down in the client's chair.

"Since we're so friendly, why doesn't the mademoiselle find out for me where, when, and how the next Anarchist attack will happen?"

Karliah picked up her deck and began shuffling. Setting a price for the reading was a thought she dismissed because she still desired to help Sebastian.

Vizier of the Sultan, one of the Voices commented as she laid the cards on the table.

"Hollywood. Full moon. Trojan horse."

Sebastian pondered for a long time. A mortal would think he hadn't understood what was said, but the Ventrue had a very useful secret that helped him in dealing with the Malkavians, so his gray matter was working to find the point through which the Anarchist infiltration would occur, as indicated by the Trojan horse comment. He concluded that it could only be in one of the nightclubs, since they were always crowded and frequented by all sorts of people.

He almost got up to leave, but decided to confirm.

"Are they going to infiltrate one of the nightclubs?"

Karliah shuffled and drew another card.

"No."

"No? How is that?"

"No. Not being a nightclub."

He took a deep breath.

"Where then? Be more specific."

"Movie theater. Projector."

And then Sebastian understood the Anarchists' plan. He grinned, pleased with himself, with the reading, and even with a touch of admiration for the ingenuity of the rival faction.

"They're going to recruit through movies, of course. Brilliant. Stirring the hearts of young people without risking anyone. A little time-consuming, but much more effective in the long run. After all, money only buys the moment. Passion buys the desire."

Before getting up, he glanced at Karliah and decided it wouldn't hurt to confirm his suspicion.

"Is that right?"

She shuffled and drew a card.

"Yes."

He stood up and put the chair back in its place.

"Are you going to tell the Anarchists that I know their plan?"

"If they pay me."

He approached her and caressed her face. Karliah felt the seduction, but couldn't enjoy it. It was like when she had a cold back in her mortal days and could taste the sweetness of the fruits, but not the individual flavor to distinguish and enjoy them.

"And how much does your silence cost?"

"A trip to Egypt."

Sebastian smiled. It was a cheap silence, very cheap, so cheap that it could easily receive a counter-offer. He signaled to the brute accompanying him.

"Look, mademoiselle Karmen, I have a better offer."

The monster bagged her in a black blanket, tied her up tightly, and gagged her. Sebastian grabbed her legs, put two fingers inside each boot, and pulled a knitting needle from each. Then, the henchman tied her legs.

"Do me a favor and sleep."

Karliah fainted.

🦇🦇🦇

She woke up to the scent of men's cologne, flowers, pine disinfectant, and blood, but it wasn't ordinary blood. She sat up and examined the place. It was a luxurious suite that she could never afford even if she saved up a lifetime's worth of money. On a cupboard near the door was a vase with a colorful bouquet of wildflowers, a red envelope, and a bowl with ice and a blood bag. Her boots were beside the door. Near the bed were a pair of pink slippers. She was chained to the bed by her hands and feet. She shook her body, but couldn't free herself. The clanging of metal called the attention of someone who approached the door and unlocked it with a magnetic card.

Sebastian entered with a cordial smile, carrying a wine glass. He approached the table and picked up the red envelope.

"Good evening, Sleeping Beauty. Did you sleep well?"

"I can't lay the cards with my hands tied."

He smiled.

"I know. You're not here for that. Well... you're not here only for that." He raised the envelope. "Do you know what's in here?"

Riddles, commented one of the Voices.

"You really want me to guess."

"I want to know the limits of your abilities."

Karliah closed her eyes and positioned herself on the edge of her inner abyss.

Decipher me or I'll devour you, whispered a chorus of Voices from the depths.

"A picture of a sphinx."

Sebastian stared at her with the look of someone who had just won the lottery and handed her the envelope. Karliah opened it. A postcard from Egypt with an image of a sphinx on the back.

He placed his glass, the envelope and the postcard on the bedside table, and pulled a small key from his pocket.

"You know... I don't think we met by chance." He signaled Karliah to stretch out her arms, she obeyed and he removed the handcuffs. "There's something that was discovered there, near Egypt, that I really want. But I know I'll have trouble getting it."

Gehenna! the Voices shouted.

"Gehenna," Karliah whispered.

Sebastian smiled.

"That's certainly what many believe, but it's just a legend."

He removed the shackles from her feet, and that's when she noticed she hadn't been gagged.

"You didn't gag me."

Sebastian still held her ankles when he smiled, but it wasn't cordiality. He was ready to subdue her if she threatened to utter anything strange.

"Unlike the Sabbat, I don't usually mistreat my associates."

"But you kidnap them."

He smiled, stepping away from her and putting the key back in his pocket.

"Sometimes the beast within us speaks louder. Forgive my bad manners. Do you accept blood? It's a special kind. I spent a fortune on the batch."

Monster... the Voices whispered.

Karliah sat on the edge of the bed, put on her slippers, and walked to him. Sebastian took a wine glass from the cupboard, poured some blood from the bag, and offered it to her. Karliah took a sip and groaned involuntarily. It was the best blood she had ever tasted. Sebastian grinned.

"It won't be hard to get used to life here, will it?" he asked.

Princess LaCroix, said the Voices, then giggled as if mocking her.

"I have appointments," Karliah replied.

"You have appointments?" he asked disdainfully. "What appointments could you possibly have?"

"Yes. My clients."

He stiffened and became serious for a moment.

"Who do you assist besides the Anarchists?"

"Everyone."

"Everyone? Even the Sabbat?"

"Yes. Yes."

"You assist the Sabbat?" he asked again, incredulous.

"Yes."

"What do they ask about?"

"Gehenna."

Sebastian sighed irritably.

"Of course, they're obsessed with it." He pointed to the wine glass and said, "Babies. I have a supplier at a maternity ward."

The Voices emitted the hissing sound of a snake.

Karliah thought it was unnecessary, but she wasn't in a position to complain, or the ventrue would simply demand that she set herself on fire and she wouldn't be able to refuse. Even so, she finished drinking the entire content of the glass and returned it.

"Whether you like it or not, you are my guest and will be here for quite some time. I'll provide everything you need. But I warn you that my patience is short and I have a low resistance to tests. Furthermore, the longevity of your life will be proportional to your usefulness. Understood?"

"Yes, but I can't lay cards without the cards."

Sebastian smiled.

That won't be a problem. I took the liberty of creating a personal collection for you.

He pulled a picture frame from beside the wardrobe as if it were a door, revealing a built-in shelf in the wall filled with luxurious decks, some collector's editions and some gold-plated ones that she didn't even know existed.

Ventrue, one of the Voices commented with a hint of resentment.

"I believe there's a version of each oracle you used, and some new ones, according to my supplier."

Karliah ran her hand over the boxes and chose a shiny, shimmering one. She threw herself on the bed and shook her feet, tossing her slippers aside.

Sebastian smiled, picked up the slippers and placed them beside the bed. Karliah passionately shuffled the cards, feeling the glide of the quality material. Every now and then she stopped to sniff the deck.

"What do you want to know?"

Sebastian sat in the armchair facing the bed.

"Will I get what I want from the region of Egypt?"

Karliah shuffled and drew a card: The Tower. A lightning bolt cut through the night sky and struck a tower, breaking it in half and forcing two people to jump from the top towards an abyss.

"Disappointment."

Sebastian became serious, interlaced his fingers and placed his two index ones on his mouth as he pondered.

"What do I need to do to get what I want?"

She shuffled and drew two cards: 10 of Swords and The Fool. A dead man with ten swords stuck in his back and a man walking carefree on the edge of a precipice.

"Eliminate the Fool."

"The Fool? Which Fool?"

"Yes. The one who laughs."

Sebastian pondered a little longer, until an idea occurred to him.

"Smiling Jack? Is that it?"

Karliah drew two more cards: 7 and Ace of Swords. A man stealthily fleeing with seven swords from a camp and a disembodied hand holding a single sword.

"Yes. Yes."

"Those Anarchists are bothering me again... But killing Smiling Jack would bring me many problems. Besides, he's an elder. The Camarilla and the Anarchists would probably go to war, which would be catastrophic for the Masquerade. What will happen if I try to retrieve my item without killing Smiling Jack?"

Karliah gathered all the cards, shuffled them, and drew two: The Tower and 10 of Swords.

Blood... the Voices whispered.

In the abyss of her mind, she saw the entire apartment stained with dried blood.

"Stained with blood. Everything."

Sebastian stared at her seriously. He wouldn't give up on his plans, but he also couldn't kill Smiling Jack, nor could he let the bloodbath happen. There had to be an alternative.

"Is anyone else going to try to stop me?"

Karliah shuffled and drew two cards: The Moon and 5 of Pentacles. A wolf and a dog howling at a full moon, and two beggars walking in the snow outside a pompous church.

"Nosferatu."

"All the Nosferatu or Gary Golden?"

She drew another card: ing of Swords.

"Gary Golden."

"Another one for my list then. And the Tremere? Can I trust them?"

Again she gathered everything, shuffled, and drew two: 2 of Cups and Ace of Pentacles. Two people exchanging cups, and a disembodied hand holding a huge gold coin.

"Only as long as it's advantageous for them."

"Unsurprising. Who else should I worry about?"

She repeated the ritual: 3 of Wands and 5 dof Swords. A man watching ships on the horizon, and a smiling man holding a sword while two other men walk away defeated after dropping their swords on the ground.

"Foreigners who go after what they want no matter the cost."

Sebastian pondered again and then had an idea.

"The Kuei-jin?"

The Devil. A demonic figure seated on a pedestal observing two figures chained with a loose collar.

"Yes."

"I'm not surprised at all. I can't trust any of them." An idea crossed his mind and he added, "Can I trust you?"

The Lovers. A naked man and woman in a verdant field under the gaze of an angel in the sky.

Like peas and carrots, said one of the Voices.

"The cards say yes."

"And what do you say?" he spoke in a low, firm, yet cordial tone.

Karliah immediately felt the urge to be honest with him.

"I won't betray you because you would kill me, and I want to go to Egypt to worship my Gods before I die. I want to cross the underworld to the afterlife. I want to know the other side. And for all that, I need to go to Egypt and become a priestess of Anubis and Sekhmet."

Sebastian looked a little disgusted and amused at the same time, finding it exaggerated.

"I can't let the Setites know of your existence. They would try to steal you from me."

"I've already laid cards for them and participated in communion rituals with the Gods."

"And why didn't they absorb you into their faction?"

"I don't worship Set. I don't like wars."

"Terrible time to be a vampire, mademoiselle."

"What else do you want to know?"

Sebastian stood up.

"That's all for now. Is there any personal belongings you'd like to be brought here?"

"My knitting needles, my journal, and my plants."

The Ventrue smiled.

"I'll keep the needles for now. As for the journal and the plants, I'll send someone to get them."

"The journal is hidden."

"Where?"

"Inside the freezer, in an ice cream container."

Sebastian chuckled a little disoriented.

"And my rent is due next week," said Karliah.

The Ventrue regained his haughty composure.

"I'll pay off the remaining months for you. Courtesy of the house. As for next year, it will depend on your usefulness."

Karliah shrugged and leaned back on the bed. She couldn't hide her skill anyway, and she didn't care who her clients were as long as they paid.

"You know where to find me," she said.

Sebastian smiled and gave her one last look from head to toe before leaving. Outside, he locked the door with the magnetic card and thought about what would be like to govern the entire country. To attend the Camarilla elders' meetings with the Malkavian by his side, as his personal seer. Perhaps he was dreaming too much, as his late mother did, but what was life made of if not dreams and plans? He straightened his impeccable suit and went downstairs to greet some associates.

In the room, Karliah laid out the cards for herself.

"Will I be able to travel to Egypt?"

The Wheel of Fortune. Animalistic figures trapped around a large wheel.

The Voices offered distinct opinions, all at once.

"Is LaCroix going to kill me?"

Ace of Cups. A disembodied hand holding a goblet overflowing with water.

"It's love, that messes with my head and leaves me like this...", sang the Voices in chorus. "That makes me think of you and forget about myself, that makes me forget that life is meant to be lived..."(1)

"Is there anyone who would try to kill me?"

Seven of Wands. A man holding a piece of wood and defending himself from six other pieces of wood pointed at him.

Karliah sighed wearily. She used to assist too many people and now she was confined to a room with nothing to do.

She put away the tarot cards and decided to try the other oracles that were unknown to her. She dumped everything onto the bed, read the manuals, shuffled, and drew a few cards. Then she put everything away again. Without clients, she didn't have much to ask. Her life was quiet and mundane as much as possible.

She had some human clients. Also, she had already exchanged favors for readings and made some trusted contacts who would certainly notice her absence and ask questions. She wasn't sure if anyone would try to negotiate her freedom. After all, she wasn't that important to anyone. What she did with the cards could be done by any other fortune teller. The difference is that vampires would always prefer one of their own to a human.

Karliah decided to keep jumping on the bed until she had something to do or the furniture broke. She couldn't wait to get back to her routine or for Sebastian to become dependent on her divination and ask her about everything, even what color of suit to choose. At least she would have something to do.

Idle hands are the devil's workshop, commented one of the Voices.

Karliah turned inward, gazing into her inner abyss, searching for some distraction, and suddenly the Madness Network seized her and pulled her into the abyss. Karliah entered a terrifying trance in which she laughed, spoke in unknown languages, and writhed uncontrollably.

Chapter 2:
Elias Baumer was here

"So?" Sebastian asked as Dr. Baumer left the suite and closed the door.

The doctor sat beside him on the gold-laced red sofa and helped himself to the blood that was in a glass on the coffee table. He savored it for a moment, clicking his tongue, made a noise of approval, and drank the rest at once.

"From the maternity ward?"

"Always the best, Doctor," he replied, adding somewhat irritably, "But tell me, how is she?"

"She'll be fine."

"What's wrong with her, Doctor?" he asked with an irritated smile.

"The Network made contact. When they finish transmitting the message, she'll wake up. Until then, there's nothing to be done."

"What message are they transmitting?"

"You'll know when she wakes up. Or not." And he helped himself to more blood.

Sebastian forced a cordial and conciliatory smile, but only an impatient grimace came out. "I pay you very well, Dr. Baumer, because you're the only one here in Los Angeles who can handle the Malkavians and their peculiarities, but that doesn't mean you're irreplaceable. There are many others like you in Europe."

"Then take your pupil to Europe."

The two stared at each other for a moment. The doctor's expressionless face gave the impression that he could be a psychopath, a robot, an alien, or a Malkavian. Sebastian already knew it was the latter, but it still bothered him to have to summon rivers of patience from his guts to deal with this clan. If both weren't so useful, he would have already dispatched them to their final demise.

It's worse than dealing with teenagers, the Ventrue thought.

"How often do these episodes occur?"

"Twice a year. Three times if she's very important to the Network."

"And what do I do when that happens?"

"Put her in a comfortable place so she doesn't hurt herself, and wait."

"Anything else I should know?"

"She'll wake up a little disoriented and might go into a frenzy. Or not."

Sebastian smiled, trying to control himself.

"Or not," he whispered to himself.

He massaged his temples for a minute and stood up with a courteous smile.

"Very well, Dr. Baumer. Thank you for your visit. The money will be transfered to the same account as always. Have a good day."

The doctor placed the glass on the coffee table and stood up, buttoning his lilac suit.

"Actually, I would like you to make a donation in my name to the hospital for the terminally ill cancer patients."

Sebastian stared at him in surprise, with a raised eyebrow. He didn't believe, not for a moment, in the kindness of the Malkavian's heart, especially one who at no point hesitated to drink the blood of babies.

"Since the money will be coming from my account and is traceable, I would like to know the reason for the donation."

"I'm conducting an experiment and I need the hospital's board to be persuaded in my favor."

Sebastian grinned with interest, sat back down, and signaled the doctor to sit as well. He obeyed.

"A favor, huh? Perhaps I can persuade the hospital's board in a more convincing way. Of course, if you can contribute with something else." And he added suddenly, in a single breath, "The money for this consultation will be transfered to your account as usual."

"What do you want?"

"Controlled access to the Network."

Dr. Baumer examined him as if the Ventrue was one of his psychotic patients.

"There's no such thing as controlled access to the Network."

"With your impressive résumé and over a century of experience, wouldn't it be possible to manage access to the Network?"

"No."

"No?" asked Sebastian with a malicious smile, feeling in control of the situation again. "Think a little more, Doctor. For the future of Science."

"No Malkavian contacts the Network. The Network contacts us."

"Communication is a two-way street, Doctor."

"Not in this case."

Sebastian's face crumbled, returning to the look of an arrogant Frenchman.

"Well, as I said, the money will be transferred to your account, as usual. Have a good day, Doctor Baumer" he said, standing up and indicating the apartment door.

The doctor didn't insist on the donation and left without saying anything.

Sebastian sat at his desk and wrote an email to one of his agents ordering him to find out what the hospital board needed. Then he entered the suite and found the Malkavian moving around the room like an upside-down spider, with her belly exposed and her head backwards. The scene reminded Sebastian of a horror movie. She was speaking in an unknown language while grunting and making other indecipherable noises. The Ventrue decided to call Beckett.

🦇🦇🦇

"So?" Sebastian asked, already impatient with the whole thing.

Beckett closed the suite door, approached a bookshelf, and examined the volumes searching for something he had never read. Sebastian offered him blood, but he refused.

"It's not a human language," said the Gangrel.

"Not a human language? Is she speaking alien?"

"Perhaps, but let me rephrase it. It's not any known human language. It could be an alien language or a language known only to the Malkavians. Perhaps Elias Baumer can help her."

Sebastian laughed disdainfully and sat on the sofa.

"I already tried. He told me to wait it out."

"Then wait," the Gangrel said, pulling out a very old book. He leafed through it slowly, carefully, and realized he had already read a more modern copy.

Sebastian sighed irritably.

"I have matters to attend to that depend on the Malkavian's ability."

"Find another oracle."

Sebastian stopped suddenly, like a statue. Beckett turned to face him.

"I've heard of the fortune teller," said the Gangrel. "She has assisted some of my acquaintances."

"You too?"

"No, but perhaps she would be useful in my research."

"How many Malkavian occultists do you know?"

"That I've heard of, few."

"How many are available?"

"In such a treatable way, none. You have a precious item in your hands, LaCroix."

"Do you understand now why I want her repaired as quickly as possible?"

Beckett chuckled.

"Not every price is paid in money."

Sebastian grinned and raised his glass as if in a toast.

"Are you sure you don't want to join me for a drink?"

"No, thanks."

"It's the finest blood you'll ever taste."

"I know. I'll pass." He returned the book to the shelf and added, "Have you spoken to Alistair Grout?"

"Nobody knows where he is."

"In the mansion?"

"I haven't found anyone who could get into that asylum yet. He might be there, but he could be anywhere else."

Beckett shrugged.

"There's nothing more I can do here. So, if you'll excuse me, have a good day, LaCroix." And he left without waiting for the Ventrue to accompany him to the door.

Sebastian placed the glass back on the coffee table and entered the suite. Karliah was lying on the floor, contorted inhumanly. The Ventrue approached carefully. The Malkavian let out a groan of discomfort. Sebastian gently straightened her limbs, picked her up, and placed her on the bed. She stared at him with a distant look, like someone who had just woken up.

"How are you?"

She blinked a few times, trying to focus her vision and organize her thoughts just enough to become sociable again.

"Dead."

Sebastian chuckled.

"In a way, yes. Do you remember what happened?"

Karliah saw an ocean of ​​disconnected information and images in her mind.

"The Network... called me."

"Yes. What message did they convey to you?"

Some images slid closer to others as if trying to group themselves by subject, but there was no chronological cohesion. She couldn't logically understand what it was, but she sensed what it was about.

"Gehenna."

Sebastian rolled his eyes in boredom and impatience. He stood up to leave, but Karliah grabbed his arm. As the images aligned in her mind, the Malkavian said:

"Give up the sarcophagus."

Sebastian stared at her, surprised and serious.

"The sarcophagus is my only chance to get what I want."

Karliah shook her head negatively.

"It isn't. There are other ways."

"You don't know what I want."

"To lower generations so you can have total control of the Americas."

He removed her hand from his arm, and sat on the bed with a furious, yet restrained, look. Not entirely because he had been discovered, but also because he had discovered that the Malkavian was more powerful than he had considered, and because he concluded that he could never let her see the light of day again.

"The sarcophagus is the only way," insisted the Ventrue.

"There is a Tremere who can do this without needing an Antediluvian."

Sebastian smiled.

"So there really is an Antediluvian in that sarcophagus?"

"I'm not absolutely sure, but it seems so."

"Even if there is another way, abandoning the sarcophagus is not an option, because my informant could sell this information to someone else if I don't proceed with the excavations."

"He already did. There's someone there who started digging recently."

Sebastian tensed, a hateful grimace showing through, and asked:

"Who?"

"An archaeologist named Anders Johansen."

"Kindred or kine?"

"Kine," she said, sitting on the bed and adjusting her hair.

Sebastian relaxed a little.

"It won't be so difficult to eliminate him him."

"But there's a problem."

"What?"

"A devout is looking for you."

Sebastian pondered for a moment.

"Does he have the True Faith?"

"Yes."

"Does he know about the archaeologist?"

"Yes."

Sebastian stood up and walked around the room.

"Did you discover all this while you were in contact with the Network?"

"Yes."

"Why is the Network trying to help me?"

"They're not. They're trying to prevent Gehenna."

"Gehenna is a myth."

"It isn't."

"Why would a bunch of crazy Malkavians, who could self-exterminate without a second thought, be trying to prevent the end of the world?"

Karliah shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Who is the antediluvian in the sarcophagus?"

"I don't know."

"Is he alive? If I open the sarcophagus, will he bring about the end of the world?"

"I don't know and I don't know."

Sebastian sighed irritably.

"What do you know then?"

"You mustn't diablerize the antediluvian; Johansen will bring him to the United States; a devout will try to kill you and, if he can't by ordinary means, he'll use Johansen and the sarcophagus to do it."

"Who is the devout?"

"We can't see. His faith repels us."

"If the sarcophagus comes to the United States, I will definitely bring it here and diablerize the Antediluvian. No one will stop me. Wouldn't it be better if your Network didn't warn me about the devout and let him kill me before I diablerize the Antediluvian?"

"If you bring the sarcophagus here, you, I, and anyone else present will die."

"Why?"

"The sarcophagus will be intercepted before it comes to the Tower."

"By the devout?"

"Smiling Jack."

Sebastian remembered the conversation they had the previous day.

"Why are you helping me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"With the information the Network gave you, you could let me die and escape. You would regain your freedom and no one would blame you for my death, since many here hate me, even within the Camarilla."

"If you die, you won't be alone."

Sebastian grinned, satisfied to know that the Madness Network wasn't being kind to him, but merely trying to save one of their own. The Gehenna story was just an excuse. However, nothing could shake the feeling that the Network might try to save Karliah without revealing too much information to him. He thought the Network had great potential, but no strategy, and how invaluable it would be to have access to a network of information about the future.

He sat down beside her on the bed again. Touched her hair and her pale face. If they had met before their Embrace, he could have taken her to meet his family. Perhaps he would even feel something for her, and they would have little LaCroixs that would torment him, running around the house. They would die of typhus, cholera, or bubonic plague. Sebastian would bury them in the family tomb. Perhaps they would have other children, or perhaps Karliah would fall ill with sadness and die of a mysterious fever, something that commonly afflicted women. He would go to war, as he had done, and perhaps he would grieve her passing and succumb to death in one of the battles. Or else he would be Embraced as he had been, and his life would continue in the same way up to that point. She would be just one of the many memories that no longer mattered so much to him, and perhaps, in the future, when he has diablerized the antediluvian, Karliah will indeed be just another one of his many insignificant memories.

"What is the Network like?"

"It is everything."

"Everything what?"

"Everything that is, that was, and that will be."

"What is it like to enter it?"

"It's like sinking into an ocean of thoughts, images, sounds, and information."

"Can you navigate it?"

"No. We are caught by The Voice."

"What voice?"

"I don't know."

Sebastian took a deep breath, seeking patience.

"Have you ever accessed the Network on your own?"

"No."

"Have you at least tried?"

"No."

Sebastian smiled, a little irritated.

"Then try. And when you feel you're succeeding, let me know." He stood up to leave.

"Elias Baumer was here."

Sebastian turned to her.

"I know, I was the one who called him."

"No. He was with me in the Network here," she said, indicating the room.

Sebastian approached her slowly with an incredulous and curious expression.

"You're telling me that Baumer entered the Network here with you? That he deliberately chose to access the Network from this room?"

"Yes. Yes."

Sebastian laughed loudly, filtering the hatred he was feeling. Then he took a deep breath, faced the Malkavian and asked:

"Did you know each other before?"

"No."

"Then how did you know it was him?"

"He picked me up in the Network."

"You told me you couldn't navigate the Network."

"We can't, but he apparently can."

"You who?"

"Me and the voices."

"She hears voices..." he whispered, controlling himself so as not to command her to jump out the window.

Sebastian rubbed his temples, organizing all the events of that day. He concluded that Baumer was plotting something and decided he would find out what it was. Furthermore, he needed to identify and track down the archaeologist, pay a spy to report on Smiling Jack, and put an alert on some devout.

"I'm hungry," said Karliah.

"I'll bring you something."

"I want normal blood."

"What I have is better."

"I don't want the babies, I want normal."

"I'll get it, mademoiselle. In the meantime, try to access the Network." And he left before she could speak or object.

He locked the suite door, sat down at his desk again, used the phone to ask his secretary to get normal blood, and sent several emails to his agents with the new missions. As soon as the first agent returned with the hospital information, Sebastian would begin preparations to persuade the board to his side. Then he would do the same in all the other hospitals in California, as well as clinics, nursing homes, retirement homes, orphanages, and shelters. He would cut off all sources of patients and test subjects that Dr. Baumer might have. The Malkavian would be forced to leave the state or submit to his authority and access the Network as he had proposed. If he chose to leave, it would be a pity, but it would no longer be LaCroix's problem. Having at least Karliah under his control, Sebastian would win either way.

The phone rang, it was the secretary informing him that one of the anarchists was in the building and wanted to speak with him.

"About what?" asked the Ventrue.

"He refuses to say, sir."

Sebastian suspected it had something to do with the Malkavian, but he wasn't sure. He had so many schemes underway that it could be about anything. He found it interesting that they had sent an agent to talk instead of picking a fight like the savages they were.

"Have the Sheriff escort him here."

Chapter 3:
The Sabbat Says Hi

The Brujah entered the apartment, looking at all the decor with disdain. Every now and then he would shake his head in disbelief. When he slowed his pace to get a better look at something, the Sheriff stopped behind him like a shadow, causing discomfort to the Anarchist who quickened his pace towards LaCroix's table.

The Ventrue and the Brujah stared at each other in silence. Sebastian indicated the chair. The visitor glanced at the Sheriff. Sebastian ordered the brute to step aside. The Brujah sat down and let out an exclamation of pleasure when he realized that the chair was much more comfortable than any bed he had ever been in. Sebastian also sat down and smiled cordially.

"Who am I speaking to?"

"Lollipop Miguelito."

"To what do I owe your presence?"

"A member of the Anarchists disappeared a couple of days ago. According to witnesses, she was kidnapped by an ogre and a well-dressed blond man."

"Well, well. I appreciate being the first on your list when someone mentions a well-dressed blond man, but I'm sorry to inform you that it wasn't me."

The Brujah stared at the Sheriff.

"The Thing here also matches the descriptions."

"Los Angeles is a city full of aspiring bodybuilders, all trying to make it big. Your witnesses may have been mistaken."

The Brujah shook his head in denial.

"Nah... It was you and Shrek here."

Sebastian stared at him with a frozen smile on his face, assessing how much he was willing to risk with the Anarchists over the fortune teller he had just discovered was also an Anarchist.

"Let's follow your narrative for a moment. Let's say I kidnapped a member of your group. What do you intend to do about it?"

Miguelito hesitated for a moment before replying:

"If she's alive, nothing. But only if you return her to us."

"And I am supposed to believe that a faction of ill-mannered thugs won't try to retaliate in some way?"

The Brujah was about to spit on the ground in contempt, but the Ventrue wagged a finger while emitting a warning sound. Miguelito swallowed, defeated.

"We won't retaliate. If you return her alive."

"Sheriff, please."

The Nagloper went to the suite, unlocked the door with a magnetic card, returned bringing the Malkavian and pushed her into an armchair near the table.

The Brujah stared at her somewhat astonished, and leaned against the chair to stand up, but before he could complete the move, Sebastian made another warning noise. The Anarchist leaned back very slowly.

"Karliah, this gentleman says you're an Anarchist."

"I'm not."

The Brujah let out a sound of indignation.

"Tell the truth," ordered Sebastian in his usual firm but cordial voice.

Karliah couldn't resist even if she wanted to, but she had indeed spoken the truth.

"I'm not an Anarchist."

"But of course you are! It hasn't been long since you—"

Sebastian quickly raised his hand to silence the Brujah.

"Mademoiselle said she's not an anarchist, that's enough. You can go back to your group." And he signaled the Sheriff to escort the Brujah.

The Nagloper lifted him by the arm, but Miguelito disentangled himself from his grip and approached the Malkavian just enough to get a better look at her.

"What happened to you? Did the voices get you, man?"

"Sebastian k—"

The Ventrue made another noise to silence her.

"Let her speak!" shouted the Brujah, delivering a punch to the Nordic wooden table that was caught by the Sheriff before it reached the furniture.

"Ah... There it is an Anarchist everyone knows. Violent and socially inept."

The Brujah tried to calm himself so as not to harm his own faction.

"Karliah," said Sebastian, "answer the troglodyte's question."

"Sebastian kidnapped me, gave me new cards and baby blood, and paid my rent; the Madness Network called me, other vampires visited me; and the Sheriff brought me here. The voices didn't get me."

The Brujah grimaced in bewilderment.

"You look different..."

He studied her for a moment, intrigued as to why the Malkavian hadn't recognized him, until the Sheriff pushed him out of the penthouse and closed the door behind them, leaving the Ventrue and the Malkavian alone.

"You weren't lying when you said you weren't an Anarchist."

"I'm not."

"However, the Brujah could swear on his life that you are, and I don't think he was lying either."

Karliah remained staring at him without much emotion. Sebastian shrugged slightly.

"That means I have some incompetent informants to present to permanent death." And standing up, he added, "Meanwhile, I want you to find out when the archaeologist will bring the sarcophagus to Los Angeles."

Karliah got up and went to the suite to get one of her decks of cards. Sebastian followed her. She shuffled and drew some cards on the bed.

"When the flowers bloom."

"Spring?"

"Yes."

"Next year, then. When, specifically?"

"On the first night of the Supermoon."

"Very good. How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Would you like to accompany me to the Opera?"

"I don't have any clothes."

Sebastian grinned.

"That will never be a problem. I'll have some outfits brought over so you can choose."

He was about to leave, but turned back to her.

"How will our night go?"

She shuffled everything and drew a few more cards.

"Violence."

Sebastian's eyes widened for a moment and then he regained his composure.

"Why? After all, it's just a networking event with other Ventrue and some Toreador."

"It's not about them."

"It's about whom?"

Karliah drew another card.

"Sabbat."

Sebastian swallowed hard, not letting his discomfort show any more than that.

"Are they going to attack the opera house? Even being who they are, they wouldn't get out alive."

Karliah drew another card.

"No. The car."

"Why?"

She drew another card.

"Because of me."

Sebastian stared at her seriously for a moment.

"Your clients?"

"No, but at the behest of my clients."

"Because you know too much?"

She didn't need to draw any cards to answer.

"Yes."

"If they're going to attack the car, then they know you'll be with me, when we'll be on the street and where we're going, which means we have a leak. Possibly in this building." And looking at Karliah, "Is that correct?"

She shuffled and drew a card.

"Yes."

"Who?"

She drew another card.

"One of the guards is a ghoul from the Sabbat."

"Which one?"

She drew another card.

"The one who abandoned his family."

"Very well, I'll take care of that and have the dresses brought over. You get ready."

Sebastian left the suite and locked the door. He called his secretary, ordered the dresses he had already selected, and told her to hire a security team from the Camarilla. He called the Sheriff and ordered him to extract as much information as possible from the ghoul before killing him. He called another guard and ordered him to prepare the armored car instead of the limousine.

He cleaned himself and got dressed for the Opera. When he finished, he took the dresses his secretary had left in the living room along with the shoes and jewelry to the suite. Karliah had showered and was wrapped in a towel sitting on the bed waiting. Her hair and makeup were already done. Sebastian laid everything out on the bed and ordered her to choose one. Karliah examined each of the five dresses and chose the pink one that always flattered her skin, even after death. Sebastian smiled because it was the dress that he had liked as well. Without any shame, she threw the towel onto the armchair and began to dress. Sebastian realized that, if he were alive, he might feel something for her, but he was sure it wouldn't be anything very deep. His romances in life had never been overwhelming. In fact, they were quite lukewarm, all easily forgettable.

The Malkavian finished getting dressed and picked up the jewelry that matched the dress she had chosen. Sebastian approached with long strides.

"Let me help you with that."

The Ventrue put the necklace and bracelets on her. All that remained for Karliah was to add the finishing touch: the earrings and the ring. As he finished, Sebastian stepped back and asked her to turn around.

"I confess you are a charming sight, mademoiselle. You must have had many suitors in life, didn't you?"

"Just some mages."

"Tremere?"

"Golden Dawn."

"Hmm... I don't recognize the name."

Karliah shrugged.

"Anyway. Let's go to the Opera," said Sebastian, offering her his arm.

🦇🦇🦇

They left the building's garage sitting in the back seat. Besides the driver, they were accompanied by a security guard in the passenger seat and four more in another car following behind.

Until halfway there, everything proceeded normally. But when they had to slow down in a section where traffic was getting heavy, Karliah let out a groan of pain. Sebastian looked at her.

"What's wrong?"

"They're nearby."

Sebastian ordered the security guard to be on alert. The employee warned the others in the second car over the radio. Karliah gasped and cowered on the floor of the car, covering her ears. Sebastian tried to pull her back, but immediately joined her when the shooting began.

A profusion of screams, honking, and banging sounded from outside as the occupants of the surrounding vehicles panicked, trying to escape the gunfire.

The security guards in the second car took down all the gunmen coming from the opposite lane, and the shooting ceased for a moment. In the background, only human screams echoed.

One of the security guards called on the radio, asking how everyone was. The guard in the passenger seat replied that everyone was alive.

Sebastian stood up, trying to look outside, but the cracks in the windows obstructed his view.

"Get up, Karliah, it's over."

The Malkavian groaned, still covering her ears, as she rocked back and forth compulsively.

A projectile pierced the most damaged part of the rear window and hit the head of the security guard in the passenger seat. It narrowly missed the Ventrue. Sebastian lay down on the seat. The driver accelerated, but a second projectile hit him and the car crashed. Sebastian stretched between the front seats and grabbed the radio from the deceased security guard.

"Do something!"

"It's a sniper."

"Find him!" he ordered.

The four got out of the car and took cover in front of the other vehicles. Every now and then they fired randomly in the direction from which the shots came, but they didn't hit anything. People kept screaming, but they no longer tried to get out of their cars, they huddled together on the ground for protection.

One by one, all the security guards were taken down.

"We have to get out of here," said Sebastian.

"No."

"Why not? They'll come after us."

She placed her index finger over her mouth, signaling silence. Despite the tension, Sebastian decided to believe her.

The screeching of tires echoed from the opposite lane, growing louder as they approached. The two remained huddled in the vehicle. The only one wounded was the Ventrue's ego, who mentally swore death to the Sabbat.

The van came from the opposite lane and braked sharply, stopping just behind the second car. The sound of footsteps jumping the concrete divider and drawing closer nearly sent the Ventrue into a frenzy, but he managed to control himself when Karliah's cold hand tightly gripped his. With her other hand, she picked up the radio and, with a signal, ordered him to cover his ears. For the first time in his unlife, Sebastian obeyed someone who wasn't from the Council, and used his fortitude to resist the Malkavian.

Karliah mumbled a mantra in an unknown language several times. One of the attackers opened the door of the car, picked up the radio, and turned up the volume to hear better.

All the Sabbatians who heard the mantra screamed in horror. One of them tried to tear off his own ears with such force that he ended up reaching his brain and dying with his nails buried in his skull. Another grabbed two knives and pierced both eardrums, dying in the process. A third shoved the barrel of his rifle into his ear, causing the weapon to pierce through his head. The fourth simply used a pistol to shoot himself.

The two Sabbatians furthest away fired at the second car and destroyed the radio. They approached slowly, trying not to make a sound.

In the distance, the roar of several motorcycles grew louder as they approached from the opposite lane.

"Shit, it's the Anarchists," one complained.

"Let's go," commented the other.

"We're not finished here yet."

"Do you want to risk putting us at war with the Anarchists?"

"Aren't we already?"

"I'm leaving."

"We better not go back empty-handed."

The other one had an idea.

"Maybe so. Unload all this shit on them and let's go."

The two of them targeted the vehicle where the Ventrue and the Malkavian were, emptying all the magazines of their weapons. They fled the road seconds before the Anarchists stopped beside the car on the other lane.

"Damn Sabbatians," muttered Smiling Jack.

"Should we go after them?" asked Lollipop Miguelito.

"No. We'll get those bastards later."

"Is anyone left?"

"I don't know."

"I'll go check," said Damsel, getting off the motorcycle.

"Wait a minute," said Jack.

"We have to see if she's there," complained Damsel.

"I bet that cocky Ventrue planned this to kill her," said Miguelito.

"I don't know if he would stoop to that level," Rodriguez commented. "He's a bastard, but making a deal with the Sabbat is low even for him."

Karliah stood up slowly, but it was hard to see through the cracked windows. She tried to open the door, but it was jammed. Sebastian stepped forward to open it, and at the same time he pushed, another hand pulled from the outside.

"Nines Rodriguez," said the Ventrue.

"Sebastian LaCroix."

The two glared at each other for a few minutes. Both controlling themselves so as not to harm the Masquerade. The Anarchist was ready to tear the Ventrue apart at the slightest movement, and the Camarillian was ready to subdue the Brujah at the slightest sign of hostility.

"I want to get out," Karliah said, breaking the tension.

Rodriguez moved away from the car, but without taking his eyes off Sebastian, who also got out, staring at him, and offered Karliah his hand to help her out.

When the Malkavian got out, Jack whistled in a flattering way and glanced at Rodriguez.

"Are you alright?" Nines asked, looking her up and down.

"Yes," the Malkavian replied indifferently.

"You disappeared," he continued.

"No," she replied, confused.

"See?" Miguelito said. "I told you she was acting strange!"

"What did you do to her, Ventrue?" asked Nines.

Sebastian sighed mockingly and smiled disdainfully.

"I didn't do anything."

"You kidnapped her."

"By the original definition of the word, yes. But beyond that, I didn't do anything."

"Lucky for you we have all this kine here!" said Miguelito. "Otherwise we would have kicked your ass."

"Miguelito," reprimanded Nines. And to Karliah, "Come on, let's go."

"No."

All the Anarchists looked at the Malkavian as if she had just spoken in another language. Sebastian grinned.

"What did he do to you?" asked Nines.

"He took me to the penthouse, gave me many oracles, baby blood, this dress, these shoes and jewels. Now he's taking me to the Opera."

Sebastian stared at Nines with a triumphant smile.

"So that's why you abandoned us?" Nines asked indignantly.

"'Us'?" Jack commented with a malicious smile.

Nines glared at the elder and then turned to the Malkavian, awaiting her response.

"I don't understand," she replied.

"You abandoned us, the Anarchists, because of this? Of jewels?"

"I'm not an Anarchist. I never was."

Nines let out a groan of indignation as if she had slapped him. Jack whistled astonished. Damsel muttered something incomprehensible.

"See? I told you!" said Miguelito.

In the distance, sirens announced the police.

"Let's go, guys," said Damsel already starting the motorcycle.

Nines took a step towards Sebastian and raised his index finger to the Ventrue.

"Listen here, this isn't over yet. I'm going to find out what you did to her, and that will be the end of your reign here."

Sebastian countered the threat with his best air of superiority.

"Keep your finger where the sun doesn't shine, Rodriguez, if you don't want to wake up as one of the Sabbat's monsters."

"Let's go, Nines," said Jack. "You can exchange love letters later."

Nines gave Karliah one last look before jumping the concrete divider, starting the motorcycle, and disappearing into the horizon along with the others.

Sebastian instructed the Malkavian to feign nervousness to the police and say it was a criminal gang, but she preferred to simply remain catatonic and say nothing. The police took the Ventrue's statement, noted the license plates, took photos, and surrounded the area. Sebastian persuaded one of the policemen to escort them to the Opera.

Everyone was already watching the performance when they arrived. The only available seats were two in the front row, where they would be seen arriving late. Even so, Sebastian raised his head and followed Karliah until they reached their seats. He knew the other vampires would somehow retaliate for his lateness. He used the moment to calm himself and gather his patience.

🦇🦇🦇

In the hall, waiters wandered around delivering glasses of blood. Some of the Ventrue sniffed but didn't drink, accepting only out of politeness. Sebastian took a sip to try it.

"Ugh. Young ladies. They all taste bland," he complained.

Karliah drank the entire content of her glass at once.

"Healthy."

Sebastian smiled.

"Indeed. No Ventrue would ever serve the blood of the wretched."

When another waiter passed by, Karliah took another glass and drank it all again.

"Slow down," said Sebastian. "They're all very concerned with appearances here."

"Nobody came to talk to you."

"They're ignoring me for being late. They think I insulted them."

"We were being shot at."

"They don't know."

"So tell them."

"No. They'll find out soon."

"Go talk to someone then."

"I'd rather walk in the sun than humiliate myself before these kindred."

"So why did you come?"

"Because it would have been worse otherwise."

"Do you need help?"

He studied her.

"Help with what?"

"There's a female Toreador behind the Greek bust, in a yellow dress, who would love to come here and talk to you, but she believes I'm your pair. She also thinks you're a work of art in the middle of this sterile meeting."

Sebastian grinned.

"Not much different from my previous life. But I don't want you to get away from me."

"Let's tiptoe over there. I've never seen these things before," she said, referring to the paintings and sculptures displayed throughout the hall.

Sebastian offered his arm, and the two pretended to admire the artworks one by one until they reached the bust behind which stood the female Toreador.

"How interesting," said Karliah in the most monotonous tone imaginable. "Do you know who the artist is, Mr. LaCroix?"

"I'm sorry, mademoiselle," replied Sebastian, playing along, "but I don't know. I'm not versed in Greek art. I prefer the French, if I may confide in you."

"I would have never guessed, sir," commented Karliah in her most robotic tone. "I thought you preferred the Italians."

Unintentionally, Sebastian let out a sound of disdain, thinking of the Giovanni.

"Excuse me," said the Toreador, stepping out from behind the bust, "if you'll allow me, this is Alkamenes of Athens, sculpted in the 5th century BCE. Actually, this isn't the original, but a copy by some sculptor from the ancient city of Pergamon, in what is now Turkey."

"Oh, how fascinating," commented Sebastian. "Thank you very much for your collaboration, madame...?"

"Sara Mendez. Mademoiselle, please, monsieur."

"Yes, mademoiselle," said Sebastian.

The Toreador examined Karliah and smiled. The Malkavian stared at her with a lifeless expression.

"And your companion, does she have a name?"

"Karliah Karmen, my fortune teller."

The Toreador let out a gasp of astonishment.

"Like in the old days," she commented.

"Times that never truly went away, if the little birds are right."

Sara smiled mischievously.

"That's true, monsieur LaCroix. However, we can agree that not all occultists are so lovely."

"That's what I've heard. Every now and then the universe smiles upon us and we find a functional specimen."

"Be careful with her, monsieur. Someone might want to kidnap her."

Sebastian hooted with laughter.

"And not only that, mademoiselle."

"I suppose some sect has dared to make a move?"

"The Sabbat attacked us on the road tonight."

The Toreador was startled and glanced around the room, searching for the targets of that juicy gossip, then turned to the two of them.

"I'm so sorry! It must have been a horrible experience! How did you manage to escape?"

"Karliah is very skilled. Even so, four still managed to get away."

"Did you see them?"

"No. We couldn't see anything through the cracked windows."

"Finding and executing them would send a powerful message to Sabbat."

"That's true, mademoiselle. I'll leave that to whoever is interested though."

"Don't you want to show the Sabbat what you're capable of?"

"I have other plans elsewhere at the moment."

She remained silent, trying to decipher him for a moment.

"Do you intend to leave Los Angeles, monsieur?"

"Absolutely not."

"But the Sabbat attacked you in your territory, and you're not going to do anything?"

"The opportunity will present itself at the right time."

"Or you will create it," said the Toreador, glancing at Karliah.

"Or... Or... Or... So many possibilities, mademoiselle, that at the moment I'm playing Russian roulette with fate."

Sara smiled politely and excused herself, leaving.

"She'll tell everyone in exchange for favors," Karliah said.

"I don't need to be a psychic to know that, mademoiselle."

"And it wasn't four, it was two who escaped."

"I know."

"Why did you do that?"

"I want to test a hypothesis. Come."

The two circled the hall a little longer while Karliah took a glass of blood from each waiter who passed by, drank it all at once, and handed it to the next waiter.

"Identify everyone who is most sympathetic and unsympathetic to me," Sebastian said.

Karliah made a list of everyone. Sebastian chose only the female vampires, both Toreador and Ventrue. He approached them as Karliah suggested, in the same unassuming way they had approached Sara. Sebastian purposefully let slip that they had been attacked by the Sabbat, but gave each one a different untruthful detail.

"And your fortune teller didn't predict the attack?" asked the last Ventrue they had approached.

"I wasn't expecting an attack, so, through an oversight on my part, I didn't order her to investigate the future regarding that," Sebastian lied.

"Why didn't she think to make a general prediction?" she asked, looking at Karliah.

Sebastian tensed slightly, realizing that Catarina Dubanowska wouldn't be as easily deceived as the others, even if she were more sympathetic to him. The elder, like most vampires, didn't look her age. She came from a family of Polish nobles and had been Embraced in the prime of her youth, before she had children. Since her older brother had already provided three heirs for the family, the patriarch saw no need to waste his daughter's beauty and purity on any of the suitors from other families who, in his opinion, were the decadent scum of the Polish nobility. However, contrary to her father's wishes, Catarina had always dreamed of traditional marriage and starting a family. She cursed him when she understood what he had done to her, but she didn't let him know how she felt. Therefore, she lived searching for a prince charming with whom she could rule some part of the world far from the clutches of her controlling father, and she saw in Sebastian LaCroix a perfect opportunity. He was handsome, a Ventrue like her, already a Prince, ruling a city far from her homeland, and not an elder, something that would infuriate her father, which made her feel pleasure just imagining the old man controlling himself not to enter a frenzy. She knew her father would try to sabotage the union when he found out, but she was prepared for it. Her plan was far more elaborate than her family could imagine.

Sebastian relaxed a little when he realized that Karliah still had her undead look and wouldn't answer the question.

"She only does what I order. The mistake was mine, and I paid for it."

Catarina studied him with a half-smile.

"Very brave of you, monsieur, to admit a weakness of intellect."

Sebastian smiled irritated at the insult wrapped in praise, but avoided retaliating.

"Sometimes I extend my cordiality to creatures who deserve only my contempt."

Catarina was a little disappointed by the response, as she had expected Sebastian to be more assertive, a characteristic that would be crucial in her fiancé, considering the father she had.

"I'll take my leave, monsieur LaCroix, may you both have a better night than the evening."

"Thank you, mademoiselle."

As soon as Catarina disappeared among the other guests, Karliah led Sebastian to an empty corner of the hall.

"She wants you."

"Who doesn't, mademoiselle?"

"She wants to marry you."

Sebastian chuckled.

"I don't know how long it has been since you were embraced, but know that we kindred don't do that."

"She desires it very much, I could feel it. You were a good suitor, but you got soft and she didn't like it."

Sebastian sneered at her.

"I got soft?"

"Yes, she wants someone brave enough to stand up to her."

"Why would a Ventrue want that?"

"Because she's afraid of someone who controls her."

"Someone who controls an elder..." Sebastian muttered to himself with more interest.

The Ventrue contemplated the situation and decided there was nothing more to be done at the party to repair the bad impression, but he could do so away from the eyes and ears of the other vampires at a more opportune moment.

As dawn was approaching, a Ventrue host gave a speech about the noble character of the guests, the importance of the Camarilla and the upholding of the Masquerade, wished everyone there had enjoyed themselves and benefited from the connections, and bid farewell, releasing all the guests to leave.

🦇🦇🦇

Back in his penthouse, Sebastian took the opportunity to drink some blood, since he hadn't consumed any at the party, and offered some to Karliah, who refused.

"I want you to find out everything about Catarina Dubasnowska. All the current problems she has, and who controls her and why."

Karliah nodded like a robot, sprawled on the sofa with her feet on the coffee table.

"Sit up straight."

"Do you want me to lay out the cards now?"

"Later. It's almost dawn, let's go to sleep."

The Malkavian went to the suite. The phone rang and the secretary informed her that the Anarchists had called to invite the Ventrue and the fortune teller to a meeting at the Vesuvius, commanded by Velvet Velour.

"What's the reason?"

"They didn't say, sir."

"I'll decide that tomorrow. You're dismissed, Denise."

Sebastian hung up and massaged his temples, already irritated with the enemy faction. But as the first rays of sunlight were already peering through the gaps in the curtain, he decided to go to sleep and deal with it later.

Chapter 4
Nine is the Language of Love

As soon as the sun set, Sebastian instructed his secretary to arrange the meeting at the Vesuvius as soon as possible. The anarchists chose that same night, and he agreed. At the appointed time, he, Karliah, and the Sheriff arrived at the nightclub and were led by one of the dancers to the second floor to a private suite where Velvet Velour and four anarchists awaited.

Sebastian approached the Toreador, took her hand, and greeted her.

"Beautiful as I always remember, Madame Velour."

"Gallant as always, monsieur LaCroix. I hope you find the accommodations to your liking."

"Impeccable, Madame."

Velvet approached Karliah and looked her up and down.

"So this is the fortune teller everyone talks about. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine, Susan," the Malkavian replied in her robotic voice.

The Toreador tensed as if a chill ran down her spine. Her previously relaxed face contorted in deep sorrow. Almost in a whisper, she said:

"There's only one part of my body that I don't want anybody entering, and that's my head. That other name... Never say it again. It belongs to a dead girl."

Faced with the heavy atmosphere, Sebastian stepped forward.

"I apologize for my fortune teller's rudeness, Madame. Despite the severity of her actions, please believe it wasn't intentional. She does things like that from time to time."

Velvet smiled, reassuring everyone, and sat down in a more secluded armchair. The dancer sat beside her.

"I've met a few Malkavians in my unlife. I know their minds are peculiar." Don't worry, monsieur LaCroix, I wasn't offended. Feel free to go about your business. We won't interrupt."

Sebastian sat on the pink, mouth-shaped sofa facing the anarchists on the other sofa. Karliah sat beside him. The Sheriff stood next to the Prince.

"So, what's this all about?" asked the Ventrue. "The last time your lackey scheduled a visit, I was accused of kidnapping."

"You already confirmed the kidnapping," said Nines Rodriguez.

"Yes, but the circumstances have changed now."

Karliah stared at him, intrigued.

"Can I leave?"

"No. You're still my guest."

"Kidnapping, false imprisonment, and slave labor of a member of the anarchists," continued Rodriguez. "It keeps getting better."

"I'm not an anarchist," Karliah said in a serene tone, as if reciting a shopping list.

Sebastian stared at the vampires with a smile of superiority.

"This is all very strange," commented Lollipop Miguelito.

Nines nodded.

"That's precisely why I brought someone who understands about these things." And looking at the Ventrue: "I want to know what you did with her."

"This again? I didn't do anything with her. If my fortune teller says she was never part of the anarchists, I have no reason to distrust her." And looking at Karliah: "Do I?"

"No. I was never an anarchist."

Nines huffed irritably and somewhat offended.

"Let's get this over with," he said. And to the vampire accompanying them: "Yveline, do your magic."

The Tremere stood up and walked carefully toward the Malkavian as if expecting her to pounce, but Karliah simply remained seated like a rag doll propped up in a corner.

The vampire stretched out both hands to touch the Malkavian's head, but stopped halfway.

"May I?" asked the Tremere.

"Yes," replied the Malkavian.

"What are you going to do?" asked Sebastian.

"Search through her memories to verify their integrity."

Sebastian laugh nervously.

"You're absolutely not going to poke her memories."

"I'm not interested in your secrets, Ventrue." And looking at Karliah: "I just need her to focus on Rodriguez and not think about anything else."

Karliah murmured an agreement and stared at the Brujah. Nines also stared at her, but apprehensively. He shook his legs and drummed his knees, trying to calm himself.

The Tremere gently held her head and began to separate the energies she sensed. What was the Malkavian herself, from what was Sebastian and everyone Karliah had known, in order to search for Nines' energy.

As time passed, Nines had already drummed out all the songs he knew; Miguelito's fingers were bleeding from picking at his cuticles; and Jack had gone to the window to smoke. Velvet and the dancer watched everything with interest.

"Anything?" Rodriguez asked, barely able to contain himself.

"Something's wrong..."

"I knew it!" said Miguelito.

The Tremere asked for silence with a hiss and concentrated, searching for physical evidence of Nines memories in the Malkavian's brain.

After a few minutes, she released Karliah with a loud groan, almost a scream, and took a few steps back.

"What did you do, fortune teller?" the Tremere asked, more to herself as an exclamation than an actual question.

Nines and Miguelito jumped to their feet.

"I don't understand," Karliah replied.

"Who did what?" Nines asked.

Yveline pondered about how she would explain what she had discovered.

"There's a very faint trace of you in her mind," the Tremere said to Rodriguez. "It starts stronger as of yesterday, when you met on the road, and then it becomes very faint, like a distant scent that suddenly fades."

"What does that mean? That they erased the memories she had of me?"

"Precisely."

"I knew he had done something!" Miguelito said, charging toward Sebastian.

The Sheriff took two steps forward and stretched out his enormous hand, stopping the reckless Brujah.

"I agreed to this meeting at my nightclub because you promised there wouldn't be any trouble," Velvet said with her sensual politeness.

"Miguelito," Rodriguez called, pulling the Brujah closer. "Not here. Not now."

The Brujah sat down, breathing heavily and grinding his teeth. Jack continued smoking by the window as if he weren't paying attention to anything.

Nines took a few steps to the middle of the suite and stared at Sebastian.

"What did you do..."

Sebastian rolled his eyes in annoyance and was about to take a breath to complain when Yveline said:

"It wasn't the Ventrue."

"Then who was it?" Nines asked.

"I found some stains near the void where those memories were. I studied some of his work many years ago. Branimir Dragoslav."

"Never heard of him," Rodriguez said.

"Only those who study the Art more deeply know him. The rest have never heard of him."

"And who is he?" insisted Rodriguez.

"He's a Sabbat Tzimisce specialized in brain operations."

Everyone exchanged wide-eyed glances. Even Jack stopped smoking and approached.

"So he's the one who erased her memory?" asked Rodriguez.

"Not only that. Memories are physically stored in the brain. When one of us erases a kine's memory, we don't actually erase it as if we had wiped it with an eraser. We actually hide that memory from the conscious part of the brain. The memory is still there, just hidden. In the Malkavian's case, her memories were literally tore away. The Tzimisce tore a piece of her brain. There's nothing anyone can do to recover those memories. There's nothing left there, just a void."

Very slowly, Nines' eyes slid to Karliah with a hesitation bordering on fear. When their eyes met and he could see for the first time that she was, in fact, empty, his eyes turned red with the tears of blood that welled up from his inner beast as he realized what he had lost.

"Is it all lost?" he asked the Tremere, but without taking his eyes off the Malkavian. "All of it?"

"Yes. The only presence of you in her head is the absence."

"Why would the Sabbat do this and then let her go?" Rodriguez asked. "It doesn't make sense to kidnap her just for that."

"It wasn't by force, Rodriguez," the Tremere said. "The removal was clean, nothing else was affected, and the cut on the skull is almost imperceptible. This surgery was voluntary. She chose to go through this."

"You let a damn Sabbat rip a piece of your head off?" Jack commented with a startled laugh. "You really are crazy, young lady."

"Why did you do this, Kaly?" asked Nines, letting the nickname slip out in front of everyone.

"I don't know," she replied in her mechanical way.

"So you mean that my fortune teller, from her point of view, wasn't lying, and neither were the troglodytes," commented Sebastian. "We just need to know the reason."

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Velvet.

Everyone turned their heads to the Toreador. She continued in her honeyed voice:

"The anarchist broke the fortune teller's heart. She couldn't resist, after all, who could resist losing a man like that, right? And then, in agonizing and endless pain, she submerged herself to the infernal depths of our world and sold her soul to the devil in exchange for relief from her suffering. Now, what a Brujah did to break a Malkavian's heart is beyond my imaginative capabilities. Perhaps he would like to share it?"

Nines stared at the floor, recalling in a second everything he and the Malkavian had lived through and at what point everything began to crumble.

Faced with Nines' silence, Sebastian said:

"You've already got the information you wanted, Rodriguez, now it's your turn to share some information we want."

"In the beginning, everything was incredible," Nines began as he sat back down on the sofa. "We got along very well. But after a while, we started to disagree and drifted apart. I didn't look for her because I thought she wanted some time to think. I never imagined she could do something like that," he concluded with half-truths.

"The story is a little deeper than that, isn't it?" Velvet asked.

"And it's nobody's business," Nines retorted in a threatening tone.

The Toreador smiled and didn't insist.

"Well, now that we've cleared everything up, it's time for us to leave," said Sebastian, standing up. "I thank our illustrious hostess for the meeting and bid you all farewell. Let's go, Karliah."

"You still keep her prisoner," said Nines, also standing up.

"Permanent guest," corrected Sebastian. "Even if she were my prisoner, what would you do, Rodriguez? Go to war with me and the Camarilla, putting the Masquerade at risk? And for whom? For a fortune teller you despised?"

Nines let out a sigh of anger and scorn at the same time.

"I never despised her. Of everything I've done, contempt was never on my list."

"So you did something that triggered this absurdity, it wasn't just Karliah distancing herself and needing time to think."

"And why does it matter to you?"

"It matters a great deal to me, anarchist. Whatever you did led my fortune teller to make who-knows-what kind of deal with a Sabbat to mutilate a part of her body. I don't know what else might have happened and what the consequences of all this will be for me in the future."

Nines laughed mockingly.

"It's always like this with you Ventrue, isn't it? Always thinking of yourselves first."

"And wasn't that what you did to provoke Karliah into tearing you out of her life?"

Nines raised his index finger at Sebastian.

"You know nothing, LaCroix. Never open your mouth to lie about us again."

"I already told you what you should do with that finger, Brujah. Sheriff—"

"Gentlemen," Velvet interrupted, approaching the two, "if you're going to duel over the maiden, do it out there in the street."

"No one here is going to duel," Sebastian said. "My fortune teller and the events of tonight have made it clear that she's no longer an anarchist and obviously has no interest in being part of your faction. You two are no longer a couple, I'm taking care of her now, so there's no reason for you to try to take her from me."

"My clients..." Karliah commented.

"I'm your client now. Your only and permanent client, mademoiselle. Now let's go. We have nothing else to do here."

Sebastian took the Malkavian by the arm and they headed for the door, accompanied by the Sheriff. Before they left, Nines called, and the Malkavian turned to look at him. He said:

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing. That there's nothing left of us there."

"I feel nothing. There's nothing left," she replied, looking him in the eyes.

Nines discreetly groaned in pain. Sebastian smiled.

"I think that settles the matter."

Nines ignored him.

"I haven't given up on you, Karliah."

"Have a lovely night, Madame Velour," said Sebastian, opening the door and acting as if the anarchists weren't there.

"We'll make it work," continued Nines.

Sebastian pushed Karliah out and followed her.

"I still don't know how, but we'll make it work. Did you hear me?"

The Sheriff closed the door behind them, but it was possible to hear Karliah replying "yes".

🦇🦇🦇

Back on the penthouse, Sebastian sent Karliah to find out everything about Catarina Dubanowska. Karliah laid her cards on the table and revealed details about the Ventrue's relationship with her father and her desire to defy him by associating with a Ventrue who wasn't an elder, but who already had considerable power.

"Fascinating," said Sebastian. "But of course I'll correct the first bad impression I left. It won't be easy confronting an elder Ventrue, as there's a high chance he's part of the Council, but the reward is worth it."

He went to his desk and sent emails to his agents to exterminate the two Sabbat who attacked them and all those behind the attack.

"You said you weren't going to do anything," Karliah commented.

Sebastian smiled.

"I want her to know that when I want to, I can change my mind. That keeps things interesting."

"She might think you're fickle."

"Or unpredictable, which would be a good trait considering her father is certainly more traditional."

Throughout the month, while waiting for the agents to finish their missions, Sebastian took advantage of the Malkavian's skills to find lucrative investments and increase his bank account and influence. Furthermore, she kept insisting on having her plants and journal, and the Ventrue said he was taking care of it.

Sebastian sponsored a film about family, community, order, and obedience, and bribed the state's theaters to show it more often than the anarchist indie film.

He ascertained that the archaeologist, Anders Johansen, was still busy in Egypt excavating the sarcophagus, and discovered the identity of the devout who was stalking him. A man named Grünfeld Bach who belonged to the Society of Leopold, a faction dedicated to exterminating vampires. As soon as Sebastian saw a picture of him, the Ventrue remembered that he had killed two very similar men and discovered that they were Bach's father and grandfather. With Karliah's skill, he dispatched a few more agents to kill the devout before he caused any trouble.

One day, the secretary warned that an anarchist had sent a package to the fortune teller. Sebastian had it x-rayed as a precaution, and when they confirmed it was safe, he handed it to Karliah. She opened it, and her expression remained bored as usual.

"Let me see," said Sebastian.

It was a ring amateurishly made with some coiled copper wires holding a small, raw rose quartz. The Ventrue laughed.

"Pathetic." And he stood up to throw it in the trash.

"No. I want to keep it."

Sebastian stared at her with disdain, but returned the package.

"If you like jewelry, you should have told me. You don't need to wear this junk."

"I like it," she said, putting it on her left ring finger and realized it was too big, then she moved it to her thumb, which was thicker.

🦇🦇🦇

The following night, the Ventrue summoned her and introduced a female Toreador elegantly dressed in a burgundy suit and carrying a large, velvety briefcase of the same color. The vampire placed the briefcase on the table and opened it, revealing three tiers of shelves with dozens of precious rings.

"Choose as many as you wish," said Sebastian, leaning back on the sofa with a triumphant smile.

"I only have ten fingers."

"Ten fingers and four main occasions: casual, gala, formal, and executive. Therefore, at least forty rings," said the Toreador with an encouraging smile.

Karliah examined each ring carefully, one by one. She picked up a rose gold ring with a moon and star in pink sapphire, tried it on, and returned it to the case.

"Do you have a mood ring?"

The Toreador made an awkward smile and looked at Sebastian with a confused face, as if the Malkavian had spoken in another language and he could translate.

"What is a mood ring?" asked the Ventrue.

"It changes color according to our mood."

The Ventrue looked inquisitively at the Toreador, and she smiled awkwardly, as if she had made some kind of faux pas.

"I apologize, but unfortunately we don't work with cheap jewelry."

"Didn't you like any of them?" Sebastian asked.

The Toreador picked up the moon and star ring she had tried on and placed it on the Malkavian's finger.

"It matches perfectly," said the saleswoman. "It looks like it was made specially for you, miss."

Karliah really liked the ring, but she also really wanted a mood ring. She stared at her finger for a long time until Sebastian broke the silence with the smile he used to close deals.

"She'll keep this one."

The Toreador smiled contentedly and placed a small pink ring box on the table. Then she closed her briefcase, greeted Sebastian with a handshake, they agreed that he would make the transfer that same night, and he accompanied her to the door. When he returned, the Malkavian was still staring at the ring in silence.

The Ventrue gently removed the ring from her finger, placed it in its box, and put it in his pocket.

"I want you to wear one of those pretty dresses and come meet me on the terrace."

Karliah got up and went to the suite to get ready. Meanwhile, Sebastian made the transfer and answered some emails. As soon as he finished, he went to the terrace to wait for her.

When Karliah arrived in a lilac lace dress that fell just above her knees, Sebastian looked her up and down, grinned, and pulled out a chair for her. The table was set with plates, cutlery, glasses, two candlesticks, an ice bowl with a blood bag, and a small vase with a mini pink kalanchoe in the center. The Malkavian stared at the plant for a few minutes.

"It's my kalanchoe."

Sebastian sat down, smiling.

"These are all your plants," he said, indicating a shelf in the corner with all her pots. "I left them here on the terrace because, unlike us, they need sun. From now on, you can come here every night to take care of them."

"I won't be locked in the suite anymore?"

"What kind of host would I be if I kept my guest locked in her room all the time?"

"And my journal?"

"In the freezer, in the kitchen, a place you can also access from now on."

"My needles?"

Sebastian smiled as he poured the blood from the bag in the glasses.

"I'll keep them for a while longer."

Karliah observed the plants, assessing their condition.

"After a month without care, they haven't died, they're beautiful," she noted.

"It's because I brought them the next day, hired a gardener, and didn't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because I needed you to adapt to the life I can give you. Besides, if you ran away, your plants, your journal, and your needles would be my hostages," he said with a smile, raising his glass in a toast.

Karliah made the toast, and they both took a sip.

"It's not baby blood," she said.

"No. It's what you call 'normal blood'."

"Why do you like baby blood?"

Sebastian stared blankly for a moment, his face completely changed, as if he were seeing a terrifying ghost. His gaze returned to the Malkavian, hoping to escape the memories he thought he had buried so well.

"If you really want to know, you can lay your cards and find out," and he drank the rest of the content of the glass, refilling it afterward.

"Congratulations."

Before Sebastian could ask why, the Sheriff appeared on the terrace and handed him an envelope. The Ventrue opened it, and his face lit up again.

"The two Sabbats who escaped were killed. Ghouls," he said. "Who ordered the attack also had the same fate, and according to this information, they were your clients."

Karliah shrugged, drank the rest of the blood, and stretched out her arm for Sebastian to serve her. The Ventrue handed the envelope to the Nagloper and ordered him to destroy it. Then he served the Malkavian.

"Furthermore, I made a few billion Dollars on the stock market."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks to your skills, mademoiselle."

"Yes."

He took the ring box from his pocket, opened it, took her right hand, and placed it on her ring finger.

"May this small gift seal our alliance."

"Alliance?"

"Yes. We are partners now. What benefits me also benefits you, what harms me also harms you, and vice versa."

Karliah stared at both hands. Sebastian's ring in her right hand, the anarchist's ring in her left. Both similar colors, but of such different materials, beauty, and meanings. Two lives, two realities, two worlds united through her.

"Are you going to donate something to a hospital?" she asked.

Sebastian glanced at her surprised. Then he smiled briefly.

"Yes, tomorrow. We both will go. I want you to wear the light blue dress, I'll wear the dark blue suit. When they ask me, I'll announce that you're my fiancée. That way we can appear in public without arousing suspicion."

Karliah shook her head negatively.

"Go alone. The press will show up. When the reporter asks if you're single, say yes, that you're looking for a partner to share your life with."

Sebastian studied her.

"Why this?"

"Catarina Dubanowska will watch the TV and contact you so you can invite her to dinner."

"Will any agreement come out of this dinner?"

"Yes."

She drank all the blood and held out the glass to him, who served her again. Suspicious, he asked:

"Anything else?"

"She wants to lure her father, who is in torpor somewhere in Poland, diablerize him, and take over everything. She would lower to the sixth generation."

If Sebastian widened his eyes slightly.

"You're proposing that I wait for the Ventrue to diablerize her father and then..."

"Yes. No need for the sarcophagus, like I said."

"You also spoke about a Tremere who could lower generations. Who is he?"

"I can't say now."

Sebastian smiled.

"One day then, since the sixth generation isn't yet an antediluvian."

"You don't need that. With money and the sixth generation, you can be president of this country and control any nation you want."

"The only problem is that if I diablerize a Ventrue, the Council will find out, the Camarilla too, and they'll hunt me down."

"If you even consider diablerizing an antediluvian, the anarchists will destroy you before you can, and nobody will try to stop them."

Sebastian observed her for a moment and then used his power of cooperation.

"Why are you helping me?"

Karliah didn't resist.

"Because I'm bored and because one day I want to go to Egypt."

"What do you think will happen when you've worshipped your gods?"

"I'll die and cross over to the afterlife."

"Why do you want to die?"

"What's the point of living?"

"To fulfill our desires."

"I don't desire anything."

"One day you desired something or someone so much that the disappointment was too great and compelled you to tear a piece from your own body."

Karliah looked at the ring sent by the anarchists.

"I'm not the person they say I am."

"I wish I had come into your life sooner, mademoiselle. Whatever Rodriguez did, it was a huge waste of potential."

Karliah shrugged and drank the rest of the blood. The first rays of sunlight began to appear on the horizon. The two finished their meeting and went to rest, each in their own suite.

🦇🦇🦇

As the Malkavian had warned, after the inauguration of a new wing for the terminally ill cancer patients and the million-dollar donation for free treatments, a reporter approached Sebastian at the end of the photo session and asked him why.

"I come from a humble family in the countryside. I've seen many friends, neighbors, and relatives die for lack of treatment, and that affects me deeply."

The Ventrue asked for a moment, raising his finger towards the camera and turning his face away. When he looked back at the reporter, his eyes and nose were pink.

"I wish all the influential people in this city did the same, Mr. LaCroix."

"It's the least I can do. And I will do more whenever I can."

"But today is a happy day, where generosity and good character prevailed. Tell me, Mr. LaCroix, is there any special person in your life?"

Sebastian smiled, and soon the signs of his supposed sadness disappeared.

"Not yet, mademoiselle, but I'm looking for a partner. Unfortunately, as I'm a very busy man, I hardly find time for that."

The reporter smiled more cheerfully.

"Ah, but I bet that with this news, the ladies will start to appear."

"I hope so, mademoiselle. Loneliness is unsettling," he said with a tired expression, "only I know how I feel every night in my penthouse without any friendly voice, no human warmth... No one to share my pain, my fears... It's enough to drive anyone crazy."

The reporter nodded, moved by the statement. Sebastian thanked her for the opportunity, said goodbye, got into the armored car, and returned to the Venture building.

In the penthouse, he found Karliah in the TV room watching the news.

"How did I do?" asked the Ventrue, sitting down beside her and putting his arm around the Malkavian's neck.

"I almost believed it."

Sebastian grinned and examined her robotic face more closely. He gently touched the cold skin of her chin.

"In another life, mademoiselle, would we fall in love, and desperately and incessantly desire to consume each other like kines do?"

"No."

Sebastian made a sound of indignation and withdrew his arm. He straightened up, tidying his suit, and asked:

"Why not?"

"I already liked unconventional men even before the Embrace by a Malkavian."

He sighed to rid himself of the attack on his ego.

"Yes, mademoiselle... I'm afraid that after my Embrace there's no trace of what's unconventional anymore."

"Anymore?"

Sebastian smiled triumphantly.

"The patience I have with you, mademoiselle, isn't just a gift from my Ventrue progenitor. My mother was a little... different. Just like you, but much more unstable. My father took refuge at the court with the nobles while I cared for her during her crises. If it weren't for his social circle, perhaps I would have found a Malkavian progenitor and had a similar fate to yours. It's fascinating how a small detail can change an entire life."

"Yes."

The phone rang on his desk in the other room, and the Ventrue went there to answer it.

"Ah... Mademoiselle Dubanowska, what a pleasant surprise to hear your voice."

Chapter 5:
Karliah is no longer here

A profusion of images from the past, the future, and all possibilities up to that moment surrounded Karliah as she tried to stabilize herself on the Madness Network. A voice composed of several voices in unison screamed "Gehenna" as the apocalyptic images passed through the Malkavian.

Away from the chaos of the Network, a presence caught Karliah's attention. The man approached and pulled her out of the whirlwind of images.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

Karliah shook her head.

"Elias Baumer. Sebastian called me because of you."

"It's the end of the world," she said, pointing to the images.

Elias smiled.

"Probably not. The Network is very dramatic. It's been saying for centuries that the end is coming. What did it tell you about Sebastian?"

Karliah's voices hissed like snakes.

"Why do you want to know?"

Around them, images melted, disappeared, and reappeared out of nowhere on the blank screen of the Network.

"Perhaps you are in danger."

Liar, her voices whispered.

"We are all in danger," Karliah said.

Elias smiled, kissed her forehead, and threw her back into the whirlwind of images.

🦇🦇🦇

While Sebastian and Nines Rodriguez argued on the highway about whether or not the Ventrue had kidnapped the Malkavian and whether or not he had done something to her, Karliah watched the Brujah's face. Within her inner abyss, a vibration spread, making her stomach churn.

She doesn't remember..., one of the voices commented.

Shhhhh!, another retorted.

🦇🦇🦇

During the meeting on Vesuvius in Nines' presence, Karliah felt the vibration deep within her core once more.

When will she remember? One of the voices asked.

Shh! The other retorted again.

After the Tremere discovered that parts of the Malkavian's brain were missing and Nines revealed that they had had a relationship, a church bell sound began to ring in her head.

Follow the bell, one of the voices commented.

Karliah tried, but every time she got too close, the noise vanished like smoke.

🦇🦇🦇

After dinner with Sebastian on the terrace, Karliah lay in bed in her suite, observing the two rings: the one Sebastian had given her and the one the anarchists had sent. The bell rang again.

Karliah followed the sound in her mind as the voices had suggested.

Reality vanished, and the Malkavian found herself in a place resembling the Network. From the darkness, a clone of herself grasped her left wrist as she gazed at the ring the anarchists had given her.

The vampire wept tears of blood and spoke something in a language Karliah didn't understand. Realizing that the Malkavian wasn't understanding, the clone dragged her to a corner that lit up as they approached, and the sound of the bell grew louder.

In an instant, the Malkavian found herself in a crypt. She was inside her body, but had no control over it. Nines arrived shortly after, along with the first chimes of the evening mass. The two embraced and kissed. Karliah felt the vibration within her grow stronger. Their auras were blue.

"Happy birthday to the only vampire who can put up with my crisis," said her body.

Nines moved away from her and sat down on one of the graves.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why did you call me here? Liking dead people is your thing. I prefer to go out hunting."

"I wanted to give you something."

She pulled a ring from her pants pocket, amateurishly made of copper wire intertwined with a raw rose quartz. She took his hand and placed it on his middle finger.

"Armando Rodriguez, would you like to be my partner for eternity?"

Nines was speechless for a moment as he stared at the ring, trying to process the situation.

"Dude... Of course I do, but I don't have the money for a ring and I'm not an artist. How can I—"

Karliah threw herself into his arms and the two kissed again.

"I don't care about any of that. I want you, Armando."

"I'll always be yours, Kaly. You'll never need to ask me that."

The two kissed again, more intensely.

"If we're going to do what I'm thinking, I'd rather it be in the redwood park than here, among the dead," said the Brujah.

Karliah smiled.

"Won't your friends bother us? Won't they want to spend your birthday with you?"

"Nah. They spend every day with me. Today I want to be with you."

The two left the crypt holding hands.

Karliah woke up the following night feeling heavy, as if she had returned from the dead.

🦇🦇🦇

"Then it's settled," Sebastian said on the phone. "Have a wonderful night, mademoiselle Dubanowska."

He hung up the phone and went back to the TV room.

"Exactly as you predicted," he said, smiling. "Catarina and I will meet here tomorrow night. The agreement we make will bring me one step closer to my goals."

Karliah stared at him for a moment, wondering whether she should tell him or if it'd be better to let him figure it out on his own.

Tell him now, one of the voices said. If you leave it for later, he'll doubt your abilities.

"She's going to propose a blood bond."

Sebastian stared at the Malkavian woman with an indignant look. Suspicious, he said:

"I'm going to make her another offer."

Karliah shook her head.

"She won't agree. She wants to be sure you'll do everything she tells you to."

Sebastian laughed nervously and sat down on the sofa.

"So that road is closed to me... We're back to the sarcophagus and the Tremere you mentioned."

"No. The blood bond won't work with her if you already have a bond with someone else, but she won't know it. You just have to pretend you're bonded to her."

Sebastian laughed irritably.

"I'd never submit to a blood bond with anyone, mademoiselle."

"Not even with me?"

Sebastian laughed out loud.

"Even less so with you. Now tell me the name of the Tremere."

"No," Karliah said, heading towards her suite.

She dragged the furniture around, barricading it behind the door since she didn't have the key card to lock it. She spent the rest of the night and the entire day lying in bed, reliving the scene in the crypt and stroking her trembling stomach.

That night, Karliah heard voices outside, but she didn't leave her room. She knew that whatever happened, Sebastian would call her.

After midnight, she heard footsteps leaving the apartment. It wasn't long before someone knocked on her door.

"Karliah, open the door."

It was Sebastian. She dragged the furniture slowly, but didn't put it back in its place, just moved it out of the way of the door. The Ventrue entered and grimaced at the mess in the room.

Karliah sat on the bed and stared at him. The Ventrue made no attempt to hide it, he immediately used his powers of persuasion.

"Give me the name of the Tremere."

Karliah made no effort to resist.

"Abelardo Lettieri."

"Where can I find him?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"Not knowing."

Sebastian took a deep breath and intensified his persuasion.

"I want the location of the Tremere."

"I. Don't. Know."

"Who knows?"

"Nobody. Nobody knows where he is, what he does, or what he wants."

"Use your cards then."

Karliah picked up a deck of cards she had left on her bedside table, shuffled them, and drew a card: 7 of swords.

"He's hiding."

Sebastian turned the armchair towards the bed and sat down.

"Apparently everyone knows that."

Karliah picked up another card: The Moon. Not satisfied, she picked up the cards, shuffled them again, and drew two. It was the 7 of swords and the Moon again.

"I can't see. He used some kind of obfuscation spell."

Sebastian stared at her suspiciously. Karliah collected the cards, shuffled them, and handed the deck to the Ventrue.

"Try it yourself if you don't trust me."

Sebastian gave a brief, defiant smile. He shuffled the deck, cut it into three, and drew two cards: the 7 of Swords and the Moon. Karliah sighed disdainfully.

"See? I told you."

The Ventrue turned the deck over to check the cards and saw that everything was correct, there was no cheating. He returned her the deck.

"What will he want in return?"

Karliah shuffled the cards, drew two, they were the same as before. She showed them to him.

"Very well. I'll find out the old-fashioned way, then," he said, standing up and straightening his suit. "And you, don't think I've forgotten about the Network."

"I already said I can't control it."

"So why do I think you're hiding something from me?"

Nine things, said the voices, chuckling.

"Because you're paranoid and obsessed with control."

Sebastian approached her and looked her up and down.

"Never speak to me in that rebellious tone again."

"Why? Are you going to hit me?"

Sebastian smiled irritably.

"I don't know what you had to put up with Rodriguez, but know that I don't hit anyone, for I'm not a savage like the Brujah. However, don't be fooled into thinking that I can't inflict pain worse than a mere punch."

Karliah began to pronounce the first syllables of her mantra of madness, but Sebastian immediately stepped forward and covered her mouth with his hand. The two stared at each other's eyes for a few moments.

"What's wrong with you? You used to be cooperative, and now you're rebellious."

She remembers, one of the voices mentioned.

She doesn't remember everything, another commented.

Shh!, a third one reprimanded.

The Ventrue saw the anarchist ring on her finger and smiled angrily.

"Remember what I told you on your first night here. That your longevity would be proportional to your usefulness. The moment you are no longer useful to me, you'll feel an overwhelming urge to go to the fireplace and throw yourself into it."

The voices hissed like snakes.

"Understood?"

Karliah nodded with a muffled noise. Sebastian slowly removed his hand from her mouth, expecting her to try to drive him mad again, but the Malkavian didn't try anything.

"You still need me," she said.

Sebastian smiled disdainfully.

"Perhaps only for a short time."

He walked to the door and before leaving, said: "Clean up this mess, you don't live in your tenement anymore."

As punishment, he kept her without blood and locked in her room for a few days. Karliah didn't mind, for the vibration filled her stomach and a strange apprehension sometimes caused her an overwhelming urge to throw herself out the window and crawl, broken, across the floor — shockingly violating the Masquerade — to wherever Nines was.

She didn't understand why she felt that way, but she knew it had to do with their supposed relationship. She was curious to find out what had motivated her to tear the Brujah off of her.

🦇🦇🦇

Almost a week later, Sebastian appeared in the suite carrying blood and a tiny gift box. He placed the tray on the bedside table and sat on the bed beside her. Karliah lay there dressed in a sensual pink nightgown, staring at him emotionlessly. The ventrue observed her calmly and took a deep breath.

"I want our disagreement to be a thing of the past. I know I've demanded too much of you and haven't adequately rewarded your invaluable services." He held up the small box. "This is worthless to me, even though it was hard to find, but I know it's valuable to you. So, mademoiselle, accept my offer of peace and let's start helping each other again, okay?"

Was he helping her? One of the voices asked. We missed that episode.

Karliah stared at the small box, bored. Sebastian opened it, took out a small object, held the Malkavian's left hand, which was still adorned with the anarchist ring on her thumb, and placed another ring on her ring finger.

"It's a mood ring, just like you asked for. I hope it's accurate. My supplier assured me it was genuine. I spent the same amount as on the first one," he said, indicating the moon and star ring in pink sapphire. "Six figures."

Karliah and the voices laughed like no one had ever heard before. After recovering from the shock, the Ventrue said:

"Looks like my supplier was right. Your mood has changed."

The ventrue got scammed! The voices screamed, succumbing to a ghostly laughter.

"It costs about 2 dollars imported from China," Karliah explained laughing. "It doesn't really change your mood, it just changes color depending on the temperature."

The Ventrue smiled in a sinister way that she had never seen before.

"Very well... Enjoy your gift. I have to schedule a meeting."

Before he left, Karliah asked:

"Did you find the Tremere?"

"Not yet."

"What about the Ventrue?"

Sebastian managed to hide the disgusted smile that threatened to escape from the corner of his mouth.

"She proposed a blood bond."

"And what about your proposal?"

"She refused."

Karliah said nothing. She took the blood from the tray and drank it, staring at the Ventrue with her robotic gaze. Sebastian left without saying anything, but locked the door again.

🦇🦇🦇

A few days later, Sebastian ordered her to get ready for dinner. The table was set in the ballroom. Present were the Ventrue, Karliah, four humans, and four agents who observed from a distance. Sebastian pulled out a chair for her to sit in, indicated the chairs for the humans, and sat at the head of the table. Several waiters served the food to everyone, but neither the host nor Karliah ate.

Sebastian sent the servants away and waited for the guests to enjoy their meal for a moment.

The oldest of the humans, who had a large scar on the side of his neck, also devoured the Malkavian with his eyes. Karliah didn't care, she just watched everything with boredom. When she used her left hand to adjust her hair, the human saw the ring she had sold to the Ventrue.

"Ah, it looks very nice on your lady," the leader said to the Ventrue. "The ring."

Sebastian looked at the Malkavian and smiled.

"What wouldn't look beautiful on her, monsieur Morris?"

Almost a Toreador. Pfff, one of the voices complained.

The man laughed.

"That's true. You know... I was your age once. Young women, just like your lady, used to live at my door. Now I have to pay, but I can still handle them." And he winked at the Malkavian.

Poor victims, the voices commented.

Sebastian hid his disgust behind a smile.

"You were never my age."

The man snorted in confusion.

"Come again?"

Sebastian ignored his confusion.

"Monsieur Morris, I heard that this type of ring costs next to nothing when imported from China. Yet, you charged me six figures."

The voices chuckled.

The man turned pale and glanced at the younger men who were with him. They all tried to stand up, but the agents quickly forced them back onto their chairs, holding them by the shoulders.

"Here in the West," Sebastian began, "people like to believe they are evolved, possessors of absolute ethics and the best moral values. That the only form of justice is Western justice, with all its laws and bureaucracy. According to it, I should report you for fraud and await a long trial so that some of your assets could be seized to compensate me. Perhaps there would be an additional amount for moral damages, perhaps not. But, after a few years, I'd receive what you stole from me. However, there are other forms of justice, such as Sharia law, for example, whose punishment for theft is cutting off the hands," Sebastian finished, holding the steak knife.

The voices hissed like snakes.

The men tried to stand up again, but the agents restrained them in their chairs.

The ventrue smiled.

"Calm down, messieurs, I am not a savage." He dropped the knife, leaning back in his chair and resting his head on a few fingers. "However, you understand that this affront needs to be corrected, don't you?"

"Look, Mr. LaCroix, it wasn't my intention," said the leader, trembling and stammering. "I didn't even know who you were. Richards here," he indicated one of the younger men with his head, "told me that you were a rich man and that I needed to get some money."

Richards stared at him indignantly.

"No, I didn't! You're the one who scams everybody!"

The leader growled at his subordinate.

Sebastian had a condescending smile on his face, as if he sympathized with the problems of the local criminals.

"Mr. LaCroix," the leader continued, "we can come to an agreement. I receive a lot of shipments from all over the world. My business is bigger than the mafia's. And look, they tried to take me out of the game," he said, pointing to the scar on his neck.

Richards made a face of bewilderment and asked unintentionally:

"Wasn't it your wife who burned you with hot oil because of that stripper?"

"Shut up, Richards!"

Sebastian's smile faded along with his patience.

"Monsieur Morris."

The man looked at the Ventrue. And then Sebastian, in his firm and cordial voice, said:

"Devour your dominant hand."

The other men, frightened, tried to stand up, but the agents held them back. Morris's eyes were wide, as if he were both terrified and hypnotized. He put a finger in his mouth, ripped it out, chewed it amidst groans of pain, and swallowed it, to the complete horror of his companions. Then he did the same with the rest of his fingers.

One of the subordinates fainted, and the Ventrue's agent slapped him in the face to wake him up. The other was crying, and Richards was paralyzed.

The voices hissed like snakes at the scene. Karliah breathed deeply, savoring the smell of blood. Sebastian noticed and shook his head in denial, but the Malkavian had no plans to attack, in fact, she expected the Ventrue to bring her a cup of fresh blood.

Morris bit and tore chunks from the hand, chewing and swallowing until only the wrist remained, from which a great deal of blood gushed. The man was already pale.

What a waste, the voices commented as Karliah salivated at the metallic smell of blood.

"Which shipment is the most profitable?" the Ventrue asked his three subordinates.

Morris was nearly fainting from the hemorrhage; one was panicking and had wet himself; the other was crying so much that he looked like a child instead of a grown man; Richards pulled himself together and saw a chance to survive.

"The weapons. They go to the gangs. Drugs also bring in a lot of money, but weapons yield more."

"And which one is the least profitable?"

"There are a lot of small things that don't generate much revenue, like that," he gestured with his head towards the mood ring in the Malkavian's hand, "but they serve as a front for money laundering."

"How many commercial partners does monsieur Morris have?"

The leader fell dead with his head on the plate.

"Had," the ventrue corrected himself.

"None. The mafia went after him because he gained a reputation for killing associates, but he made a deal with another mafia to take care of it."

"What other mafia?"

"Giovanni."

Sebastian sighed heavily, irritated. He detested the Giovannis.

"What deal?"

"I don't know. Morris didn't tell me."

"Can you figure it out?"

"I can try."

"Can you figure it out?" the Ventrue repeated with an irritated smile.

"I can, if you let me live."

"Oh, I intend to do much more than just let you live, monsieur Richards, But what I'm going to do will depend more on you than on me."

Sebastian gestured to one of his agents, who placed a machete on the table in front of the three of them. All the agents stepped back.

"Only one of you will leave here alive," the Ventrue announced.

Before the other two could recover from their panicked state, Richards decapitated them with a single blow each, causing blood to splatter on the Ventrue and the Malkavian, and dropped the machete to the ground.

"What do you want from me?"

Sebastian smiled.

"Morris's business no longer exists. It's mine now. However, I don't want my name involved in this sort of thing, so you'll be responsible for everything. I'm not interested in what you have to do, say, or promise to others to convince them that you're the boss, that's your problem. I only want a detailed report of all the schemes, agreements, buyers, and sellers, including the deal with the Giovanni. We'll meet once a month where you'll present me with the most recent report. If any offers or threats are made, I want to be informed before you make any decisions. You'll do everything I command without question. And, if you die, it won't be my problem. If you betray me, a more painful end awaits you than your late boss's. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Sebastian made a gesture with his hand as if shooing the man away. The agents left with him, leaving the Ventrue and the Malkavian alone. Sebastian poured the blood from one of the men's necks into a goblet and placed it in front of the Malkavian.

"This also applies to you."

The voices hissed. Karliah drank with relish, her eyes fixed on the Ventrue. When she finished, she said:

"Weren't the billions you made in the stock market thanks to me enough to give me a break?"

Sebastian pulled the chair closer to her, sat down, and brought his face close to hers.

"I do not tolerate disobedience or rebellion. Much less provocation."

Karliah smiled provocatively.

"You like it when I tease you."

"No. I hate it. My desire at those moments is to make you pour alcohol all over you and set yourself on fire."

The voices hissed.

"I haven't done it yet," he continued, "because you're still useful to me. But don't rest on your laurels. I'm searching for another oracle in Europe, and soon you'll meet your final death."

The voices laughed menacingly. Won't find it.

"And the Tremere?" Karliah asked.

Sebastian moved his body away from hers and leaned back in the chair.

"I lost some agents looking for him."

Failure, failure, failure, the voices commented.

"You won't find him."

"For your own good, it's better that I find him."

"He's powerful and doesn't want to be found."

"So why did you convince me that it'd be the best route to my goals?"

Gehenna!, the voices groaned.

"Gehenna."

Sebastian sighed irritably and stood up.

"I don't want to hear that word coming out of your mouth ever again, understood?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to obey."

Sebastian lost his patience and used his persuasive skills on her.

"Gag your mouth with the napkin and slap youself across the face."

Do something, the voices protested, but Karliah did not resist and obeyed.

"Another slap, on the other side."

Karliah obeyed against her will, but at the same time without trying to resist.

Sebastian repeated the order two more times, totaling four slaps.

Asshole, you're gonna pay, the voices growled.

He approached her.

"None of this would have happened if you remained cooperating."

She glared at him.

"We could've had some good times together, but..."

The Ventrue let the sentence hang in the air when he spotted the ring the anarchists had sent. Then he smiled maliciously.

"Even with the problems you cause me, mademoiselle, you still give me excellent ideas."

The Ventrue took off his suit jacket, placed it on the back of the chair, sat on the table opposite the Malkavian, unbuttoned his shirt at the wrist, rolled up his sleeve, and used his persuasion again.

"Remove the gag and be quiet."

The voices laughed. The Ventrue knows nothing.

Karliah obeyed. He stretched his wrist toward her mouth and said:

"Drink it."

The Malkavian resisted.

"Drink it, Karliah."

She struggled, but resisted again. She couldn't speak, but she stared at him inquisitively.

"Yes," he replied, "you'll be my subordinate one way or another. I tried to be pleasant, but you decided to complicate your own life. So now you'll obey me because my orders will be irresistible to you. Drink it."

Karliah resisted. Sebastian stepped back, opened a cabinet with a key he took from his pocket. A chilling vapor rose along with a rustling of a refrigerator door. He swallowed two bags of blood, closed the refrigerator, locked the cabinet, and sat back down on the table, offering his wrist to the Malkavian. He used all his powers of persuasion to order:

"Drink it."

Karliah couldn't resist and bit his wrist. Sebastian groaned with pleasure and smiled contentedly. The Malkavian sucked a considerable amount of blood until he told her to stop. She released his arm and didn't mind a trickle of blood running down the corner of her mouth. The Ventrue used a napkin to wipe it away.

"Tomorrow at this same time, I'll visit your suite to encourage you to obey me again. And I'll do this every day until I get everything I want. It won't be long before you idolize me, mademoiselle."

The voices laughed mysteriously.

Karliah remained seated without saying anything.

"Go change yourself," ordered the Ventrue.

Pretend to obey, the voices advised.

Karliah obeyed.

🦇🦇🦇

The following night, another package arrived from the anarchists. This time it was a half-used pencil that looked like it had survived a war and multiple run-overs, but was still functional. The point was thick and hadn't seen a sharpener in a long time.

"Why did they send you this?" Sebastian asked after handing over the package.

"I don't know."

The Ventrue was about to take it from her hand to throw it away, but the Malkavian pleaded:

"Let me keep it, my lord."

Sebastian smiled, pleased with her obedience. He rolled up a sleeve and extended his wrist. The Malkavian held his arm with one hand while she drank, and with the other she gripped the pencil. When she finished, the Ventrue said:

"You can keep it."

"Thank you, my lord."

Sebastian smiled again.

"Do you see how much you stand to gain by obeying me? Why would you want it any other way?"

"Forgive me, my lord. I don't know what was happening to me."

The Ventrue will be scammed again, said the voices giggling.

"Soon your disobedience will be a thing of the past, and we'll have a very promising unlife ahead of us."

He left and locked the door. Karliah lay down, clutching the pencil to her chest. She plunged into her inner abyss and ended up in a place resembling the Network. The vampire who was her clone appeared, raised her hand to see the pencil more closely, cried blood again, and dragged her to a dark corner.

Karliah found herself inside her body, but unable to control it, as before. She was in a bar where everyone stared at her suspiciously while trying to disguise it by drinking, talking, playing darts and pool. She was waiting for a customer. Hours passed until all the Brujah began to feel very uncomfortable with her presence. Their auras were light green. Damsel whispered to Nines, who had just come down the stairs. He patted her shoulder twice to appease her and walked towards the Malkavian.

"What's up, everything alright?"

"No."

"No? What happened?"

"No. My client didn't show up."

"Your client?"

"Yes."

"Who is he?"

"Broken Beak."

Rodriguez laughed.

"Never heard of him."

"He told us to meet here today."

Rodriguez smiled cordially.

"Could you have mixed up the dates? Maybe it was another night."

"February 20, 2002."

Rodriguez smiled and nodded.

"It's today. Indeed, your client didn't show up."

"That's what I said."

The Brujah observed her more closely. His aura, previously dark blue, had turned light pink.

"What do you do?" he asked.

"I'm a fortune teller."

"And you were going to tell his fortune here? In a bar?"

"Yes. It was his idea."

"Your customer... Kine or kindred?" he asked, trying to disguise his true intentions, since sometimes humans entered the bar by mistake.

"Kindred."

Rodriguez's eyes widened in intrigue.

"Which clan?"

"Toreador."

"Perhaps he got distracted along the way."

"Maybe."

"What about you?"

"Malkav."

Rodriguez smiled, nodding, and glanced at Damsel, confirming something they had whispered.

"Let's do this: you leave your contact information here, and we'll call you if your client shows up."

The Brujah leaned over the counter, picked up a notepad and a pencil. Karliah gave him her number and name. Rodriguez smiled, tucked the paper into his jacket pocket, and had an idea.

"Look, let's do something else. Take my number, you can contact me if you need anything."

He wrote down the number and the name. Damsel called him, and he put the pencil down on the paper.

"Good luck with your client, Karliah. I gotta go now. Good night."

Karliah said goodnight, picked up the paper with his number on it, and accidentally took the pencil with her.

Three nights later, she showed up at the bar. A Brujah barred her from entering.

"I need to speak with Rodriguez."

"What do you want with him?"

"To return something."

Nines showed up on time, saw her at the door, and told the security guard to let her in.

"What's up, Karliah, everything alright?"

"Not so much."

He asked her to follow him. The two went upstairs and he led her to a tiny room that served as an office, but was full of weapons. The Brujah closed the door and the music faded considerably.

"What happened?"

"I took your pencil by mistake."

The Malkavian handed over the object, and Nines laughed, disconcerted.

"Did you come all the way here just to return this to me?"

"Yes, it's yours."

"No. It's ours. Everything here belongs to everyone. But thank you. It's not every day we find an honest person in the world."

The two stared at each other for a few moments.

"Are you a member of any sect?" he asked.

"No."

His eyes widened.

"Are you alone in Los Angeles?"

"Yes."

"Dangerous."

"I know how to take care of myself."

Rodriguez laughed briefly.

"I don't doubt it, but it's still dangerous. Are you from around here?"

"No."

"Why did you come here?"

"To save money."

He nodded as if he understood her reasons. He studied her for another moment.

"Is it working?"

"Slowly."

For a moment, his aura turned black.

"This capitalist world fucking sucks. Everything is in the hands of a handful of suited-up Ventrue."

"Yes."

His aura turned light pink again.

"Don't you want to join the anarchists? Life here isn't bad. Everyone helps everyone else; everyone contributes."

"Do you need a fortune teller?"

"Maybe. It'll depend on your skill, but you can do other things too. I don't know. We'll see later. What do you think?"

"I have many clients."

"So?"

"I'm not going to stop seeing them."

"No need. You can keep doing what you do the same way, but we'll help each other discreetly, nobody needs to know."

Karliah shrugged.

"Okay."

"So, are you in?"

"Yes. What do I have to do?"

"I'll introduce you to the group, and then we'll see."

🦇🦇🦇

Karliah woke up the following night to the Ventrue opening the door. He handed her a bag of blood and sat down in the armchair facing the bed.

"Take your deck."

Karliah held the blood bag between her teeth and sucked out the liquid while picking up a deck of cards and shuffling them.

"How did Smiling Jack find my agents?"

Karliah took out a card and placed the blood bag on her lap so she could speak.

"Your agents were stupid."

Sebastian sighed irritably.

"Which agents would have the right skills for this job?"

Karliah shuffled and drew another card.

"The oldest ones."

"They're all busy looking for the Tremere."

Karliah shuffled and drew another card.

"They are going to die."

"Come again?"

"They are going to die."

"You insisted on this Tremere story, I sent my best agents after him, and then you say I won't be able to find him and that my agents are going to die?"

"I also said that he was in hiding and didn't want to be found."

Sebastian glared at her. He stood up, rolled up his sleeve, and stretched out his wrist. Karliah bit him. He groaned with pleasure, but held back because he was still angry. He told the Malkavian to stop and straightened his clothes.

"I'm going to get that sarcophagus."

"Yes, my lord."

"Check with your cards."

Karliah shuffled and drew three.

"Smiling Jack will intercept the sarcophagus."

Sebastian growled angrily.

"When?"

Karliah shuffled the cards and drew one.

"As soon as the ship arrives at the port."

Sebastian smiled and relaxed his posture slightly, sitting back down.

"It's a good thing I gained control of the trading in the ports thanks to the mistake of monsieur Morris. May the demons have him."

Karliah shuffled the cards and drew one. The Devil.

"The demons have him."

Sebastian ignored her.

"Is anyone else going to try to stop me from getting that sarcophagus?"

Mamma mia, the voices said and laughed.

Karliah shuffled the cards and drew one.

Lie, the voices advised.

"Everybody."

Sebastian sighed irritably again.

"Why?"

Karliah drew another card and lied.

"Because everyone knows the legend and can connect the dots when they learn of your interest."

"So they still don't know about my interest?"

Karliah drew another card and lied.

"Some people already know, and it won't be long before it spreads."

"Are there still spies close to me?"

She shuffled the cards and drew one.

"Yes."

"Who are they?"

She shuffled the cards and drew several.

Don't give all the names., the voices said.

The Malkavian gave four of the seven names. Sebastian nodded, satisfied.

"Is there anything else my lord wants from me?"

Sebastian smiled and stroked her face.

"Not for now. I'll leave the door open, you can go see your plants or use your journal."

"Thank you, my lord."

Sebastian left and closed the door, but didn't lock it. Karliah had already been fed, she knew his gardener was taking care of the plants and she wasn't going to write anything in the journal knowing the Ventrue could read it.

The last piece approaches, the voices mentioned.

Karliah fell asleep holding the pencil.

🦇🦇🦇

During the following weeks, she helped Sebastian earn more money with her investment predictions. The Ventrue was more relaxed about her behavior, but continued to feed her his blood. However, Karliah was tired of it and wished to leave. She wanted to look the Brujah in the eye and tell him she was determined to recover all her memories and make this work.

And then, one day, she received another package from the anarchists that was x-rayed again. Sebastian handed it over without much concern, as he believed the blood bond with her was already complete.

The package was larger than the previous ones and soft. She opened it and took out a men's blue shirt that was stained with a brownish blood.

"Do these things make any sense to you?" Sebastian asked.

"No," she lied. "Maybe he thinks I'm naked and cold."

The Ventrue chuckled.

"Are you going to keep that or can I throw it away?"

"I'd like to keep it, my lord. Perhaps I can remember something? Something that could help you expel the anarchists from Los Angeles?"

Sebastian pondered for a moment and nodded in agreement, but remained slightly suspicious.

"I see you're still wearing their ring... What did you do with the pencil?"

The Malkavian opened the bedside table and showed that it was there.

"Why are you keeping all this stuff?"

She shrugged.

"In a thousand years, he'll have given me so much that I'll be able to build a house and move out of my rented apartment."

"In a thousand years, this planet will be at my feet."

"Yes, my lord."

"By the way, my agents finally found the Tremere and we've arranged a meeting. You're coming with me to Chile."

A strong vibration gripped Karliah's stomach, to the point that the Malkavian placed a hand on her belly as if trying to stop the organ from escaping her abdomen.

"When will we travel, my lord?"

"This weekend. Pack your bags with warm clothes."

"Yes, my lord."

Sebastian left her alone with the shirt. She lay down and sank into her mental abyss. Her clone came to get her, crying, and pushed her into another scene where, once again, she had no control over her body.

The Malkavian ran down the stairs of the Last Round with a knife in her hand.

"Go back to hell, bastard!"

All the anarchists present stood up, wielding their weapons, but no one did anything beyond that. Karliah climbed onto the counter and repeatedly slashed the air with the knife while laughing maniacally and shouting threats at the unseen being.

"What the fuck is that?" Skelter asked.

"And how should I know? I don't speak Malkavian," Miguelito remarked.

"I'm going to shoot her," said Skelter.

"Are you going to shoot Nines' girlfriend? He's not gonna like that," Jack commented.

The other anarchists moved out of her way as the Malkavian ran from one corner to another fighting imaginary beings, but none of them dared to lay down their weapons.

"So what do you suggest, Jack?" Skelter asked.

"Get away from her, lock her in a room. Call Nines. It's not the first time she's done this."

"It's not the first time?"

The elder Brujah put away his weapon and picked up the cigarette he had dropped on the table.

"Last time, it was just me and Damsel."

"And what did you do?"

"We locked the door when she went into the weapons room and called Nines."

"You left that crazy woman alone in the weapons room?"

Jack shrugged.

"Either that or killing Nines' girlfriend."

Skelter growled and ordered Miguelito to call the Brujah.

"Come quickly, your girlfriend's gone crazy!" said Miguelito.

It wasn't long before Rodriguez arrived along with Damsel and two other anarchists. Karliah had gone upstairs, and the rest of the group was on the first floor, weapons in hand.

"Do you need help?" Damsel asked.

"No. I'll handle her."

Nines went upstairs to the second floor and to the storage room, got a blanket and a rope, and followed the sound of insults and falling furniture until he found her in one of the rooms trying to stab some entity hanging from the ceiling.

When the Brujah jumped on her with the blanket and lay down on top of her on the floor to tie her up with the rope, the Malkavian struggled, screaming insults in a demonic voice with an accent from some Eastern European country.

"You filthy Brujah, who do you think you are to touch me like that?"

"Fight, Karliah," Nines said as he wrapped the rope around her body.

"Karliah is no longer here, that mad woman. Get off me, ogre."

"Fight, man, don't let the voices get you."

"Voices?" The spirit commented, letting out a mocking laugh. "You stinking worm, how dare you? One day the Camarilla will recognize my full potential when I reveal all your sordid secrets to the Council."

"Fight, Kaly, I believe in you."

The spirit laughed.

"Pathetic. The Malkavian is completely inept. You are all more crude and disposable than the waste of a quarry."

Nines sat on the floor, hugging her body tightly. Her legs thrashed about, but she was securely tied and couldn't break free.

"Come back, Karliah."

The Malkavian trembled completely, growled while drooling, and another demonic voice spoke through her.

"My family will find out about this, Brujah, and you and your whole gang will meet permanent death." It said with an Italian accent.

"I don't know who you are, bastard, but you're lucky you're in her body, otherwise I would've already broken your teeth."

"That's not how you speak to a Giovanni lady."

"Giovanni? Who are you?"

The spirit laughed, Karliah convulsed, and another spirit took over.

"She didn't tell you, Brujah. Don't worry, I won't let the others get you."

"Others? The other voices?"

"No, the other spirits."

"What's this? A possession?"

"No, Brujah."

"Who are you?"

"A gangrel who was once an anarchist."

"What's going on here?"

Karliah convulsed again.

"I swear by my entire lineage that the Camarilla will get you, scum."

"You just said you weren't going to let anyone get me."

The spirit laughed.

"That was the wet dog thing. No Ventrue mixes with people of your kind."

"A Ventrue spirit... Who are you?"

The Malkavian convulsed.

"Ask your girlfriend what she did. Ask her before I run off with her body back to my family."

Karliah convulsed several times as the spirits took over her body.

"In your dreams, Giovanni, you think you'll manage to capture her body. None of you have the intellectual capacity for that. Take your place as servants and accept your inferior destiny."

"You overweening Ventrue... I savor the memory of having torn one of you apart along with the bears."

"Fight, Karliah," he said, hugging her tighter.

"Stop squeezing me, cazzo! My father will find out about this!"

"As much as I enjoy seeing an anarchist completely lost in the dark, perhaps it's time to reveal who your beloved Malkavian truly is. And after you're divided, the Camarilla will come to conquer."

"When I get my hands on this body, I'll take great pleasure in destroying your soul, Ventrue."

"Fight, Karliah. Come back to me."

The Malkavian writhed for a long time, then coughed and vomited some saliva.

"Armando..." she whispered.

Rodriguez held her head towards him and kissed her forehead.

"I can't fight anymore..."

"What's happening to you? Is it possession? How do we fix this? Should I call a priest?"

"No... It's not exactly possession..."

"What is it then?"

"You're going to hate me..."

"I won't. Tell me."

"My sire died..."

"I know, you told me."

"I didn't tell how he died."

Nines stared at her, worried and suspicious.

"How did he die, Kaly?"

"When I woke up as a Malkavian, I didn't understand what was happening, but I was very hungry and very thirsty. He told me to stay lying down, close my eyes and rest, that he'd bring me water and food. I obeyed. He bit my wrist. I tried to fight, but he was stronger. I reached his arm and bit it too. At that moment, something stronger than me took over and I drank his blood faster than he was draining me. He tried to stop me, but I don't even know what was happening to me, I only know that I managed to... kill him. A few minutes later, he was inside my head. I didn't understand any of it. We fought. He disappeared for a few days. Then he came back. We fought again. Then others appeared in my head and we fought. They came and went. I searched for answers and found it. My sire was a serial diablerist."

Nines squeezed her tighter, but Karliah didn't complain.

"It wasn't your fault, your sire was insane. You were a fledgling, he was a monster. You did what you could to survive."

"I'm tired, Armando... Tired of fighting. Almost 100 years of this..."

"There must be a way to end this permanently."

"There isn't any, I've already looked everywhere."

"Someone must know something."

"Nobody knows anything."

"How many there are?"

"A few dozen. Most are Malkavians, and some of them help me. But the others don't like me."

The Brujah kissed her forehead again.

"If I could, I'd kill them all for you."

Karliah smiled and tried to raise her hand to touch his face, but it was trapped under the blanket.

"I know, but this fight is mine alone and I can't take it anymore. I've thought about just giving up and letting them take over."

Nines became serious and his aura turned red.

"No, no, no. Never give up. Never! You can fight and win, I believe in you."

She smiled sadly.

"I can't. Maybe it's time to stop resisting..."

"Never!" he replied, his aura shifting between red and purple. "You're an anarchist, and we never surrender!"

"If I were a Brujah, I might feel the same. But I don't have the same strength."

An idea occurred to Nines, and he looked at the Malvakian with apprehension. It was dangerous, it could go wrong in many ways. But it could also go right. Furthermore, although difficult, it was reversible.

"What if there's a way for you to have my strength?"

"How? I can't change clans."

"They say that if any of us drink blood directly from another vampire, we gain some temporary abilities."

Karliah studied him for a moment. She wasn't sure if she understood what he meant.

"Are you suggesting..."

"You'd have my strength for a while and be able to fight."

"... that I become your slave?"

"No way!"

"But that's what will happen if I drink your blood."

Nines grimaced, annoyed by the whole situation.

"I know that, but that wasn't my intention." Wanting to demonstrate that he had no interest in enslaving her and only wanted to help her, the Brujah proposed: "You drink my blood and gain my strength, and I drink your blood and take half the demons. And we both fight this battle together."

"What if it goes wrong and I get your hatred for the Ventrue, and you get my spiritual sensitivity?"

Nines smiled.

"I'll be spiritually moved by seeing you unleash the demons on those sons of bitches."

As she had rarely done in her entire life, Karliah laughed. And Nines smiled along with her.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I am. We're in this together."

Nines untied her and threw the rope away.

"How do we do it?" she asked.

"At the same time."

He embraced her and they kissed. They drank each other's blood amidst the bites and kisses. A trickle ran down between their lips and stained the blue shirt the Brujah was wearing.

Karliah woke up with her heart pounding as if she were alive. Her stomach was vibrating so violently it felt like it wanted to burst out of her body.

Finally, one of the voices commented, she remembers.

Not everything, another one commented. Yet.

Amidst the longing, the despair of separation, and the tears of blood that fueled those emotions, the Malkavian felt an inexplicable hatred for Sebastian LaCroix and swore to herself that she would kill him.