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".

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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."