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.