[DFM]

I look over my should as I sprint down the alley, half expecting a mutilated corpse to be limping after me.



I careen around the corner and almost slam into another wall. Get out. Get away from the clinic. Get out of the dark alley.



I don't stop running when I'm back in the open and heading towards the Asylum. I push a man out of my way, harder than I'd meant to.



I hear him hit the wall as I grab the handles of the giant double doors and jerk to a stop. I throw them open and hurry inside.



I need to find Therese. Give her the pendant, find Tung, whatever. I just need to talk to her. She might be an ice queen but at least she's sane.



An idiot hanging by the edge of the club nods at me as a I rush by.

"Sweet costu-"



I give him the finger and slam my hand into the elevator button. Fucking idiot kid. Costume. Costume. This is fucked up enough without having people think I'm doing some kind of fucking role-play.



The elevator rises above the shitty alternative techno-rock, but this time... the silence seems menacing. Reminds me of Ocean House.



I don't like being reminded of Ocean House.



Therese isn't at her desk this time. I get two steps into her office before I hear the last voice in the world I want to hear.



"Not even a knock? I could have been undressing... who knows what I would've had to do you, then. You're here to see her royal majesty Queen Victoria, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes I'm here to see her. Business. Important."



"Well, you could have timed it better. She's off trying to work damage control on an 'attack' or some bother. Why'd you need to see her, anyway? Found the key to her chastity belt?"

"It's a business thing. Boring, trust me. You wouldn't care." I've found that being honest can sometimes really be the best policy.

Not this time, though. The change in tone is jarring. It isn't sultry or sing-song, anymore. It's like a stone slab.



"I'm not some Barbie doll, you know. No matter what my sister likes to say, this club's success is as much my doing as it is hers. More even. She talks up a storm about how she's the smart one, the successful one and everyone believes her just because she wears that hideous suit." She leans forward, face almost touching mine. "Trust me, pancake, things aren't always what they seem."

It takes me a few moments to say anything. I really wasn't prepared for that.

"Look, Therese asked me to bring her something. Since you've got an apparent habit of ruining her plans, I don't really trust you not to chuck it in the ocean or flush it down a toilet. It's got nothing to do with who really runs the show."



"Mm. Fair enough." She looks away for a moment, thinking. "Tell you what, since you were willing to run through that demon infested hell house for the ice bitch, how about doing a teensy, tiny favor for little ole me?"

The schoolgirl act sounds almost ironic now.

"That really depends on what it is."

"Do you know Gallery Noir, down the street? I happen to know there's a charity event being organized there. Lots of influential and apathetic Santa Monicans slithering in for token appearances. The whole event's been set up by a rival Kindred trying to establish their own power clique in our gray, lifeless city. And we can't let that happen, can we? So I need some brilliant young upstart to spill their milk."

"And how would I do that?"

"Oh, don't worry, it won't take long. Take this knife. Give tha paintings in the gallery a good slashing. Don't get caught and don't turn it into a massacre, okay? Oh, and steal the charity box, would you?" She runs a hand over my shoulder and down my back. "By yourself something velvet."

"I'm not stealing from a charity box. Are you insane?"

She laughs, like I'd just said the cutest thing.



"It's not what you think. Every pretty little penny dropped in that box is going right into the Kindred organizer's purse. You'd just be crooking from a dirty steal."

I shake my head. "No, I still don't think so. I might be a criminal but I'm not a vandal and I don't want anything to do with a power struggle in Santa Monica. Hire some street punks, they'll be more than happy to."

She shrugs, finally pulling a little further away.

"Your loss, pancake."

I turn away and notice something hanging on an inside wall that I hadn't before.



Who the fuck hangs that right in front of their bed?

I head down the elevator and sit at the bar, waiting for Therese to get back from wherever it was she'd run off to. This is a god damn nightmare.



"Hey again, beautiful. What happened to your dress?"

"Shit. Shit happened to my dress. Give me..." No, I don't drink anymore. Do I? Fuck, I'll find out. "...give me a Jack Daniels."

"You've got it. Tell you what, it's on the house. You look like you need it."

I take the shot and lean low over the bar. Some heat going down. Nothing else, yet.

"Hey!"

I turn to my right in time to see a man take the empty seat next to me. Wonderful.



"Oh man! You're a vampire aren't you?"

"What?"

"Come on, you are too! Awhaha man! Don't bullshit me girl, you are too! It's okay! I'm not gonna tell anyone, I just wanna talk."

He sounds like an eighties snack commercial. I should probably kill him or deny it or do something, but I just don't care.

"Talk about what?"

"Oh man, you are! I knew it! I just... oh jeeze, I knew, I just could tell. I mean I saw your teeth and I, I could just sense you. Aw man. The name's Knox Harrington! Pleasure to meet you."

I don't look away from the empty shot glass or take my arms off the bar.

"So what'd you want to talk about?"

"Oh, well, I didn't have anything in mind, you know? I just thought it would be cool to talk to somebody else on the inside."

"The inside?"



"Yeah! I mean... I only found out about all this stuff a couple months ago. This guy just appeared and then BAM, vampires are real and they're right in front of my eyes. Blew my god damn mind."

I tilt the shot glass towards me. Still don't feel anything. I suppose it would've been too good to be true.

"What dude?"

"Oh man! His name's Bertram Tung! He's a Nosferatu, he's nasty, dude!"

The glass bounces off the bar and shatters on the floor.

"Where is he?"

"Aw man, I wish I knew where he was, I'm getting antsy waiting around for him. I gotta tell him some stuff and I don't know where he stays or goes or any-"

I'm off the barstool and standing over Knox before he finishes.

"What do you need to tell him?"

"Aw man... well... I guess I can tell you, ll I don't think Bertram would mind. See, he had me keeping an eye on this guy, this asian dude who's been pokin' around Santa Monica. Bertram thought he might be a vampire or... something like a vampire, I dunno."

"Okay, what'd you find out?"



"Aw man, this guy, this... this thing... it got wise to me. Now instead of me watchin' him, he's watchin' me, you know? I see this guy appear around me all the time, like off in the distance watchin' me, then he'll warp up next to me... aw man... then 'Whoo' disappear."

"He's playing with you?"

"It's freakin' me out! I know this thing is totally toying with me. I wanna put a bullet in its head but who knows if that'll even do anything. So... I'm just waiting around until I can talk to Bertram and see what he wants me to do, but... well... hell if I know where he disappeared to. It's messed up!"

"Therese."

"Therese?"

"Therese Voreman. Tong thinks she wants to kill him so he's laying low until everything blows over."

"Aw man... she's strong enough to kill Tung? I mean... I don't really know anything about vampires but... he seems pretty powerful."

"I don't know, if she couldn't I don't imagine he'd be hiding."

"Aw man that's messed up! I'm never gonna..." He pauses for a moment, the seed of an idea forming in empty his head. "Hey, look I didn't wanna ask you but since you're a kickass vampire and I'm just a gopher, would you... get rid of this thing?"

If it helps me get to Tung, I'm all for it.

"When you see him again, tell Bertram I'm looking for him."

"Oh sure! No problem, the first thing I'll say."

"Then I'll do it."

"Hell yeah! Right on." He goes into something vaguely resembling a serious mode. "Okay, like I said he's some kind of Asian vampire... thing, ya know. Like whatever they have instead of vampires. The only clue I've got is this driver's license that he dropped once while I was tailing him. I've been so freaked out that I haven't even had a chance to check it out."

"...Wouldn't that tell you exactly who it is?"

"It's not his license, girl. I don't know why he had it but... here, take it. Might help you find out where he is and what he's doing."

I give him a hasty goodbye and leave the club. I walk a short distance to the nearest streetlight and hold up the license.



Well.



That helps me in literally no way.

Virgil Crumb. What the hell am I going to do with that?



Well, I know he's not driving, wherever he is. Hmm. He's registered, so I could break into the DMV and... no, that wouldn't help. I'd need another type of database, something... hmm...



Virgil old buddy, I hope you weren't an angel.