A Place to Belong: Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter XXVIII

A Terrible Loneliness

Biddle Memorial Hall is quite an impressive piece of architecture. It is a prime example of  Romanesque Revival architecture that is three and a half stories tall and made entirely of brick. That half story is claimed by the tallest clock tower that plays the Westminster Chimes every fifteen minutes to tell the time, projecting it to the entirety of Johnson C. Smith University in Charlotte. The clocktower itself is referred to as “Big Johnson,” no doubt an homage to both Big Ben of London and the University’s namesake. The Hall was named by one Mary Duke Biddle, a tobacco heiress who donated a large sum of money to the school in order to commemorate her husband, Major Henry J. Biddle who fought for the Union during the Civil War. Biddle Memorial Hall was utilized mostly to educate African-American teachers and ministers, a cause the Union Major would surely support. 

All this history and honor did nothing to stop the local students from making jokes about how “Biddle has a Big Johnson.” 

It also did nothing to stop both Diego and me from laughing at said jokes. 

“Are you two serious right now?” Callie asked, glowering at us as we snickered like children. “Marcus has this place surrounded!” 

I looked out over the campus grounds and saw an assortment of black SUVs and prowling men in black suits with those clear earpieces that are supposed to be harder to see, when in reality all they did was make the wearer more obviously a fed. 

“Want me to shadow slide over there and just kill their gear?” Diego asked, a wicked grin on his face. Despite his recent revelation that he was in fact the muscle of the group, I respected that he still went for the quiet sabotage plan first. Means he was still thinking with his mind rather than his newfound muscle. 

“I support the idea in theory,” I said, pondering it. “But what happens when all their communication is shut down?”

“Marcus will either expedite the process or send his men commands through a chain of command, making sure they’re crawling all over the place, thus making our lives difficult,” Callie supplied. 

“Ah, shit,” Diego grumbled as I patted him on the shoulder. 

“Good plan, better used on a less prepared target,” I said, my eyes still roving across the darkened windows that lined the hall. Normally it would be quite bustling, even without Tremere presence. There were still some classes taught here, but it was mostly converted into administration offices at this point. The raised basement was used for storage and files, and no one would think twice at such a mundane place. 

Except that there was an entire hive of Tremere researchers and sorcerers who spent their afterlives utilizing the space within as a means to develop, research, and review new methods of blood sorcery all under the noses of the kine public. The elevated basement was elevated because underneath it was where the real education happened. That is where we needed to get. 

“We’ll never get past them all,” Isadora said, leaning against the car for support. She was feeling stronger now that she’d fed, but her strength was still lacking. Walking and standing on her own was well within her power, but running, fighting, and dodging bullets was probably off the table for the near future. 

“Let me guess,” I said, my tone playful. “We should leave you behind, go in, and not let you drag us down?”

“That is the plan I was pitching the whole ride over,” Isadora said, crossing her arms. “The one you kept shooting down for some obnoxiously vague reason.”

“The reason is I need all of you in there for my plan to work,” I said in the exact same tenor and tone I’d used to respond to the same objection for the past quarter hour. 

“And what is that plan?” Callie asked, annoyed. 

“We’ll get to that,” I said, hearing each of them groan. I raised an eyebrow at them. “Really? You trusted me this far and now you’re getting frustrated with me?”

“Not just now,” Callie retorted, but her voice lacked heat. 

“I just don’t get why you won’t tell us,” Diego said, his tone sharp and grumpy. I sighed and turned to Callie.

“Could you pull the plan out of my head if you really put your mind to it?” I asked her. She just shrugged. 

“Yeah, probably,” she said casually. “Your mind is well defended, but not nearly well defended enough. It may take me a minute, but I could get it out of there.” 

“What if you needed to get it out of Diego’s head?” I asked. 

“Seconds,” Callie responded with no hesitation.

“Hey!” Diego said, a bit indignant. 

“Sorry,” Callie shrugged, clearly not at all sorry.

“And if Callie can do it, odds are good Marcus can do it,” Isadora said, nodding. She clearly understood, though still was unhappy with my decision. “So you keep the details of the plan in one place, so if they get compromised… we have no plan?”

“We’d have three plans,” I say, holding up my fingers to illustrate the point. “Each of you will come up with a plan based off your own knowledge and minds, rather than trying to make mine work after it failed. You’re my failsafe.” 

“Terrible plan,” Diego said, though I could tell he was less displeased with me than he’d been before.

“What about a way in?” Callie asked, mollified if not satisfied. “You going to share that with us?” 

“That, I can share,” I say, pointing at the air in front of me. “See that?”

The three of them looked at where my finger was pointing or even past it, then looked back confused.

“No,” Isadora said, and I could tell I was testing her patience. Partially from her tone, but mostly from the warning glare she was giving me. 

“Ah, okay, no more wizard shenanigans, got it,” I said, waving my hand. “Okay, simply put, there are glyphs here. Floating through the air, tagged on walls and the ground, even a few that follow certain people around.” 

“And what are these glyphs supposed to be?” Diego asked. “If they’re just blood sorcery, anyone who knows it would be able to see it.”

“Correct,” I agreed. “Except they’re only visible to Lucian and his childer,” I explained. “For example, my sire, Natalia.” 

“If only Lucian’s childer can see them, why can you?” Callie asked. “Even if it was a bloodline thing, there would be diminishing returns the further you got from the source of the original bond. Not to mention Tremere can’t really blood bond.” 

“Correct again,” I nodded. “If I were just Natalia’s childer, I’d have a harder time seeing them or be unable to see them at all. Which is why its a good thing that I’m not just Natalia’s childer.” 

“How is that possible?” Isadora asked, her annoyance becoming confusion. “You could only be turned by the embrace and you can only be embraced by one kindred.” 

“Apparently there’s a blurry line there,” I said, grinning. “See, Lucian was the one who bit me, who drained me of life, and Natalia was the one who gave me the vitae I needed in order to come back. But she didn’t carry the power that I used to turn into that blood monster down under the city. Lucian did. I have a theory that when Natalia threw him off me, probably in a last ditch effort to save him from losing his last bit of humanity rather than saving me from my doom, some of his vitae got into my mouth.” 

“So when you were fed Natalia’s vitae you gained some of Lucian’s powers and abilities,” Isadora said, her eyes growing wide. “And the vitae that we drink first is that of our sire’s, so your body may not have been able to discern her vitae from Lucian’s, combining them in your system, making the sorceries he cast for his childer available to you…”

“As I said, a theory,” I shrugged, pointing at the glyphs they couldn’t see. “However, it seems to be working well enough. I can always tell the Chantry to experiment with Sire/Childer vitae combinations later on… I wonder if you could create a new kindred with the blood of another Kindred that was bagged and force fed…” 

“Hey!” Callie snapped at me, pulling my mind out of the rabbit holes it was starting to tumble down. “Not the time for Tremere mad scientist nonsense!” 

“Right, right, sorry,” I said, shaking my head, looking for the proper glyphs to follow. “It’s this way. I’ll put the mad science ideas on the backburner.”

Still subconciously pondering the idea of assembly line siring and the logistical and ethical complications therein, I led the others through a side path ending with a maintenance shed some distance from Biddle Memorial Hall. The door led to an old mechanical unit that seemed to have stopped running long ago. In reality, it had never run. By removing the grate on the front, I slipped through and into a hidden underground tunnel. I clicked on my flashlight and handed it to Callie as she slipped down behind me. 

“Why does it always have to be underground?” she muttered as she took the flashlight from me. I just laughed a little and started walking into the dark as Isadora and Diego dropped down behind us. “Hey wait! Don’t you need the flashlight?”

I turned, grinning as they all reacted to my gaze. Callie gasped in surprise, Diego laughed, and Isadora sighed. 

“What did that cost you?” Isadora asked, using her pinky and index fingers to point at her own completely black eyes, but indicating my shining red ones. 

“Modd and I came to a deal,” I said, shrugging. “He taught me how to see in the dark, I taught him the ritual to commune telepathically with his sire.” 

“That’s how you’re doing that,” Callie said, and I realized I’d never explicitly told her I could do that. “Wait, why did Modd want to learn how to commune with his sire?”

“Why else?” I shrugged. “To harass the hell out of him.” 

I turned and continued down the tunnel, my new night vision and the floating sigils guiding me through the darkness. The others fell in step behind me, not questioning my deal with Modd any further. It was common knowledge that most people who become Nosferatu don’t choose to become Nosferatu, and many despise their sires for turning them into the twisted creatures they awoke as. Giving one the psychic ability to constantly berate their sire for what they did seemed both cruel and just. Beyond that, it gave me a new tool for my tool box, so win-win. 

Isadora fell into step beside me, her dark eyes staring out into the darkness, her gait steady, though I could still see the slight pause in her steps every time she put weight on her left leg. She lowered her voice, and I had to heighten my sense of hearing just to distinguish what she said. 

“The ritual you taught him, from my knowledge of blood sorcery, that’s worth more than the Eyes of the Beast,” she whispered to me. Isadora was correct of course, such a trade would not have been equivalent… if that was all I received. I didn’t say anything more, but I didn’t have to. She was sharp. “You got something else.” 

“I did,” I confirmed, nodding. “But you won’t like it.” 

“Will it help?” she asked me, not seeming concerned by whether or not she’d approve of the power I’d learned. 

“In many ways. Tonight? Maybe not, but in something more important,” I responded. 

“The blood form,” she guessed. I simply nodded, not explaining further. She didn’t push further. Instead, she reached out, took my hand in hers, and gave it a light squeeze. “Are you ready for what’s coming?”

“I have a plan,” I said, answering her question by avoiding it. She caught it and understood. I was growing to appreciate Isadora more and more with every passing night. 

Her question was a valid one. There was no love lost between me and Natalia. To her, I was a tool. To me, she was another user in a long line of people who’d used me in the past. It didn’t even bother me anymore, to know I was being used. It was something I expected. Her mentorship of me had been valuable for me, though there was nothing she did that any other sire wouldn’t have done if they were halfway decent. Perhaps her lessons had been better for me than Diego’s lessons had been for him, and maybe the betrayal I was experiencing wasn’t as palpable as what Callie or Isadora went through, but it didn’t change that I was meant to be used and abandoned once my usefulness had come to an end. Once the item was in her hands, I expected the end to come. 

And still, I couldn’t find it in my heart to hate her. She was little more than a desperate creature trapped in an impossible situation holding onto false hope. How many times in my life had I felt like that? How many times in my death? I’m sure I’d lost count of both. To fault her for being those things would have been hypocritical. To hate her for doing what she did to get what she wanted would be doubly so. But that didn’t mean I needed to forgive her, and now, in the moment where what she yearned for was finally in her grasp, just at the edge of her fingertips, she was getting sloppy. And I could use that. I could use her just as she used me. 

So I pitied her. 

We came to a door with another sigil on it, one designed specifically to keep out unwanted Kindred. I smiled as I read the runes painted in her blood. I could smell it, practically taste it, and I knew it was hers. It would keep out anyone who tried to enter who wasn’t ‘blood of her blood.’ Holding up my hand for the others to stop, I stepped to the rune. 

“I thought there’d be something that would send you flying,” Diego said, about to step forward as well, when Isadora pressed her hand to his chest, stopping him. 

“Not him,” she said, nodding at me as I began to work to dismantle the rune. “Just us. Let him work.” 

“Do we have that kind of time?” Callie asked, looking at the ritual circle. “Can’t you just rub it out with your foot or something?”

“If you want a magical backlash that will boil our vitae in half a second, then maybe get around to killing us, sure,” I said, without looking up from my work. With each trusted motion, I felt the weaving of her magic coming undone. It was a lot like untangling a ball of yarn… or more accurate to my life, a mess of wires. 

Callie clamped her mouth shut and waited as I continued my work. It took about a quarter of an hour, but eventually I felt the ritual circle release the energy it contained like a body releasing its own spirit. The power faded and floated away, leaving the doors unprotected. I reached out and threw the doors open to find a terrifying sight. 

The sanctum was exactly what I would have expected a Tremere sanctum to look like. Heavy wooden bookshelves laden down with a collection of leatherbound books, probably reference books and journals, and equally heavy looking tables covered in scraps of paper, glass and metal instruments of all shapes and sizes, as well as jars of substances and samples I’d need labels to identify. But it wasn’t any of these things that set my teeth on edge. It was what stood in the center of the room that really made my stomach drop. 

Natalia stood, her arms out stretched, her expression strained as she stared unblinking at another pair of massive doors, one palm pointing at them. Energy, invisible to the others, rippled from her and reinforced her wards on the doors. Hammering blows, like those from axes or sledges, rang against the wood, causing it to chip and splinter, but never break completely. I could hear Marcus’ baritone barking orders at what I could only assume were ghouls as they continued trying to brute force their way in. Should her focus there slip, we would be overrun in seconds. 

It was her focus on the other thing in the room, however, that I was much more terrified of her losing. A massive humanoid form stood in the center of the room, though nothing human remained of it beyond basic shape. Gray-blue skin, completely bare, was stretched over a too large frame, as though the bones and muscles of its body had grown and warped somehow. Its jaw hung open, slack, but filled with pointed teeth of different lengths and sizes. Its ears were flat and flapped about its head like bat wings, the only part of him currently moving besides the slight twitch at the ends of his too long, taloned fingers. 

Lucian, my sire’s sire, now fully a wight, stood in stasis, held only by the sigils on the floor and Natalia’s will. Her eyes flashed back and forth between the doors and Lucian, desperate fear beginning to show on her face. When she heard my footsteps approaching, she whirled her head and I watched as the energy holding both flickered in place. Her fear melted into relief when she saw it was me approaching, then concern as the rest of my coterie crossed the threshold of her sanctum. 

“I thought my rituals made it abundantly clear, Grey,” she said, her voice hot, though the strain had left her weakened and far less intimidating than I would have found her months ago. “This is a family only event.”

“They were, however your plan is failing and mine requires more hands,” I said, stepping up and studying Lucian in his psychic cage. “As mine is the plan that is more likely to work, we’re going to go with that one.”

Her eyes flashed with hot anger, and for a moment I thought she may have tapped into some long forgotten strength. Even as she spoke, I felt a wave of her powerful presence manifesting within the words. 

“You dare defy me?” she asked, her tone colder than ice and even sharper. “You dare make demands of me?”

“No,” I said, simply, dismissing her anger as what it was: an act. An impressive act, mind you, but an act all the same. She couldn’t waste the energy to reprimand me without losing control of one or both of her charges. “I’m telling you we’re going to end up doing my plan to save us both time, energy, and sanity. You’re not in a position to argue, and I’m in a position to stop Marcus. You’ll follow my plan, and we’ll get the best possible outcome, where Marcus doesn’t kill us all, usurp you as the Baron of Charlotte, or release granddad here from his cage to be hunted down by every kindred in the city, Anarch or Camarilla, as he kills indiscriminately in the streets.”

“Granddad?” Natalia said, her eyes widening. “What do you… how do you…” 

“Remember what I said about time?” I asked her, my voice hard and efficient. “Not enough of it. You’re already nearing the end of your power. If you let one go, the other will kill us, right? And if you let both go, they’ll kill us, and perhaps each other, but that second option leaves Marcus the ability to weasel out of this alive, and I know no one here wants that.” 

I turned and pointed at Lucian, staring Natalia right in the eyes. 

“His name is Lucian, he’s your sire, he was working on something that would grant him the physical power of the beast, but savaged his humanity so brutally that he became a wight. You held it off as long as you could, but something changed on the night he killed me and you brought me back,” I said, watching the horror grow on Natalia’s face with every word. Her eyes flicked back and forth between me and my coterie as if I were saying things in front of them I shouldn’t be. Inwardly I sighed as I continued. 

“No, it’s not a secret anymore, the four of us know. Also no, Marcus doesn’t know yet, not even about me if I’m correct. Most of Charlotte will by morning as the Nosferatu network is out sharing the information about our relationship right now.” I looked at her, my expression as cold as I could make it. “So, mommy dearest, if you have any sense of self preservation at all, and I sincerely hope you do, you will shut up and listen, do as you're told, and walk free again tonight.” 

Natalia stared back at me, her face fluctuating between each stage of grief in and out of order. Fury, despair, calculation, and finally a cold acceptance. 

“You will make me a promise, child of mine,” she said, verbalizing her connection to me openly for the first time in our relationship. “And if you cannot, I will kill us all.” 

“Tell me,” I said to her, nodding along. I’d expected the bargaining, and I knew exactly what she was going to ask for. 

“No harm will come to Lucian,” she said, and I heard a hitch in her voice as she tried to keep it steady. “He’s the key… the answer… he’s my… my… responsibility.” 

I nodded at her, understanding there was more meaning to her words than I was getting at this moment, but also knowing that I didn’t particularly care. 

“Done,” I said to her with full sincerity. “And I can do you one better: Lucian will live through this night and many beyond it should my plan work, though I suppose ‘live’ is not the correct term. Regardless, you will as well. Marcus will be neutralized as a threat, and this power struggle, as well as its causes, will remain hidden from the populous. The only change is the city’s Kindred will know you have a childer who is helping you manage and delegate operations in the city.”

“You’re not seeking to usurp me yourself?” Natalia asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Most childer in this position would pounce on their sire, sucking the heart’s blood from them, gain power and prestige, then repeat the cycle.” 

“A vicious and inefficient cycle,” I said to her, meaning it. “You know me too well to think I’d be willing to do that.”

“To kill me?” Natalia asked, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Hardly. You’re cold and ruthless enough to do that.” 

“More than enough,” I agreed, not taking an ounce of offense from her words. “But when have you ever known me to be inefficient?”

For a moment, she paused and studied me, chewing her lip slightly in a remnant of her mortal life taking the form of a personal tic. She was processing the information, though I was sure it was taking longer than usual due to the fact that Marcus’ goons were now hitting the door more rapidly than before. By about seven or eight solid hits, she shook her head. 

“Fine, your deal is acceptable,” she answered, bitterly. “What do you need me to do?”

“Hold your position as you’ve been doing,” I tell her plainly without any ceremony for my small victory. There was a war yet to win after all. “When I tell you to, turn your full attention to containing Lucian. We’ll handle Marcus.” 

“Are you insane?” she asked, but didn’t deny my plan. As her question wasn’t an efficient or valuable use of my time, I elected to ignore it and turned to face my coterie. First up, Diego. 

“You ready for a scrap?” I asked him, eliciting a grin. 

“I’ll be taking out Marcus?” he asked, excited, but his expression dropped when I shook my head. “What do you mean no?”

“You’re taking out his minions,” I explained. “Break them, disappear them, I don’t care what you do to them. Get them away from him so he can’t lead from the rear. Leave him a clean opening. I want him to be able to waltz in here unhindered.” 

“Any particular reason?” Diego asked. 

“Yes,” I responded, then turned to Isadora, not explaining further. “You have it?” 

“Ready and able,” Isadora said, then winced and shrugged slightly. “Mostly able, anyway.” 

“Good, if things go sideways, or if Natalia is taken out, you’re our only defense against Lucian,” I told her, nodding. Finally, I turned to Callie. 

“You’re going to face Marcus,” I told her flat out. The look of horror on her face, and the explosive ‘no’ that came from Diego didn’t surprise me. I held up a hand and silenced Diego, then gestured for Callie to speak. 

“I can’t take him out,” Callie said, her voice growing weak. “I can’t stand up to his psychic assault!” 

“No, you can’t,” I agreed, then placed a supporting hand on her shoulder. “But you are the only person here who could possibly convince him to stand down.” 

“What?” I heard three voices cry out at once, but refused to take my eyes off of Callie. 

“He was your mentor, your sire,” I continued. “Your master, in a lot of ways. Beg him, plead with him, do whatever it takes. He needs to know that you still care about him. That you want to do what’s right for him. That you value what he taught you. Because if there’s one thing I know…” 

I leaned in and whispered in her ear. 

“No matter what he did, a part of you does still care.”

*

He was right. I hated that he was right. Part of me wanted so badly for that bastard to just be a monster, but he’d been my mentor, my guide, and at times, I’d even thought of him as a friend. He’d never been that to me, of course, that was just my stupid little naive brain telling me that something could come of nothing. But Grey was right about how I felt, and now he was offering me a chance to at least try. 

 “Okay,” I said, nodding at him. Diego stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. 

“Callie…” he said, his voice clearly telling me that he was trying to talk me out of it. I placed my hand on his, gave it a small, reassuring pat, then slid it off my shoulder. 

“Your job is to run interference, got it?” I said to him, taking on my usual bossy tone, but shooting him a wink when Grey turned his head to say something to Natalia. “You keep them off me, I’ll handle Marcus. Grey’s giving me a chance to save him, or at least get closure from him, please Diego, let me have this chance.” 

Diego looked like he was going to argue with me but he must have seen something in my expression that told him not to. Not cruel, not malicious, just a burning desire to at least be able to say I did everything I could. 

“He tried to kill you,” Diego said, one last ditch effort, but even he knew it wasn’t going to change anything. 

“We’re vampires,” I said, shrugging and giving him a grin. “Occupational hazard.” 

“Fine,” he said, pursing his lips, but the expression screamed worry rather than anger. “But know that I don’t like this plan, and I’m pissed at Grey for suggesting it.” 

He turned to Grey and stared him down. 

“You didn’t say what your job was in all this,” Diego said to him, arms crossed, leather creaking as he moved. 

“No, I didn’t,” Grey agreed. “But as you’re actually going to push this matter, and yes I can tell from your posture, my job is to back up Callie should I be incorrect about her effect on Marcus. I’m ill-practiced at the moment, but I will be her backup.”

“Good,” Diego said, nodding before moving to get into position. As he did, his eyes lingered on my face for just a moment, and I felt a shudder run through me as I realized the expression I was seeing was genuine concern. As quickly as I’d noted it, the moment passed and Grey moved over to Natalia. 

“Do it,” he said to her, and with a gasp of effort, Natalia released the energy in her palm, cutting her power from flowing to the wards. Within seconds the door had collapsed and the ghouls began pouring in. 

They charged straight towards me where I stood in full view of the door, mouths slavering and weapons flailing. I wanted to move, but the sudden fear froze my feet where I stood. My sight tunneled as the edges of my vision turned black. I couldn’t see anything but the hoard as it charged, and it only seemed to have eyes for me. 

Which is probably why they didn’t see the wave of blackness that slammed into their right flank and sent them careening into a heavy wooden table. There were only sounds after that: shattering glass, howling rage, and lots and lots of bloodcurdling screams. Once, a ghoul managed to throw himself out of the shadows in an attempt to crawl away, dragging a bleeding stump for a leg with him and leaving a trail of blood. He didn’t get very far. A shadowy tendril exploded from the darkness, wrapped around his remaining leg, and dragged him shrieking back into the shadows. 

“Well… well… well…” a familiar voice said from the doorway, causing me to turn and see the smoldering eyes of my sire glaring back at me. I felt frozen again, only this time it had nothing to do with my own fear. I could feel the weight of his power settling down over me like an iron net. 

“Seems your little Lasombra finally learned how to use his powers. No matter,” Marcus said, throwing a glance at the roiling shadows, and despite his casual tone, I noted a hint of hatred mixed with fear in his eyes as he looked into the roiling shadows that contained Diego and his men. “I’ll handle him in time. See, I have more power and abilities than you might expect, child, and he will learn the harsh reality of what happens to one when they attack their betters.” 

He continued walking slowly towards me, though I noticed a small limp in his gait. Seemed that despite his power, the wounds Diego had inflicted on his manhood, or now his lack thereof, had not fully healed. Some of my strength returned, and I pushed back against his control. Marcus paused slightly as I did, a curious expression crossing his face, then slowly smiled. 

“You think you can fight against me,” he stated, amusement clear on his face. “You think that you can fight back and even win. That the little bit of power you’ve been able to muster is all you need in order to take me on. Oh sweet child, how stupid can you really be?”

“Marcus,” I said, my voice sounding strangled as I fought the effect of his power and my own desperation. “It doesn’t have to be this way… Killing her… creating a power vacuum… the Camarilla can take over… the Sabbat… or even… Garou…”

“If the Camarilla come, I’ll offer them the city, so long as they instate me as Prince,” Marcus said, smiling at me, but there was no warmth in it like I was used to. Only a cold, calculated glee that seemed to come from his excitement at causing harm. At causing me harm. 

“The Sabbat won’t get a hold of my city, whether I’m Baron or Prince,” he continued, stepping ever closer, raising the scepter I’d given him, spinning it lazily like a walking cane, as though winding up for something. “And as for the Garou… I think I can handle a few mangy dogs. Especially when I have enough cannon fodder to throw at them between the remnants of the Anarchs or the holdouts from the Camarilla seeking asylum. Hell, I bet I can even manipulate the fools in the Sabbat to fight the dogs if I convince them the cause is holy enough. All good politicians know how to manipulate the religious, you should know that by now.”

He got closer, and I could feel my chest beginning to hurt as though a heavy weight was being pressed down upon it. My knees buckled and I fell to them, my head too heavy to lift, though I tried anyway. I could just barely see his approach; all I could hear was the swishing of the scepter as he swung it in preparation; all I could wonder was where was Grey? He was supposed to be keeping me safe, he was supposed to have my back, but he was nowhere in sight. 

“What good is all your power with no one to rule?” I asked, letting the weight of his power bow my head, not in reverence, but in heartbreak. “What good is the power if no one is left to respect you?”

“Don’t you respect me, Callie?” he asked, menacingly. “You should. Always respect the man who kills you. It means he had the power, the will, and the determination to do so.” 

I heard him raise the scepter and decided that I would not face the final death bravely, but allowed myself to feel the fear I hid from others for so long. I allowed myself to feel weak and helpless, without struggle, and without shame. A sob escaped my throat though I had no tears to shed, and as Marcus brought the scepter down on me, cackling like a madman, I made peace with the fact that I was afraid and alone. 

There was a heavy, wet thump and a groan of pain, then suddenly everything stopped. The pain hadn’t been mine. Nothing had hit me, but I still felt the weight of Marcus’ power pressing down on me…

No… it wasn’t the same all encompassing weight. It felt more like something heavy pressing on the back of my head and my shoulders. I turned my head and saw an arm wrapped around me. Pulling back, I saw that the arm was Grey’s, and he was standing over me, his chest covering my head while his arms protected my flank. He staggered slightly, but enough of my strength returned that I managed to catch him. 

“What… what happened?” I asked, shocked as Grey leaned against me to support himself. He grinned at me, his fangs, smaller than most, glittered in the magelight. 

“That,” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at Marcus. When I looked, I couldn’t stop a gasp from escaping my lips. 

*

The scepter hit my back. Hard. It nearly sent me crashing into Callie underneath me, but I managed to catch myself enough. If my lungs still worked, the blow would have knocked the air from them, but thankfully my vampiric strength, though paltry compared to Diego’s, gave me the constitution I needed to withstand the attack. Had he struck mine or Callie’s heads, however, it would have been a different story. 

Callie helped me get to my feet, her gaze darting between me and Marcus. Her eyes were wide in shock. 

“What did you do?” she asked me, her voice low and quiet. 

“Nothing,” I said, wincing slightly as I felt the ribs in my back shift and move incorrectly, probably cracked or broken from the strike. Taking a deep, painful breath, I roused my blood and forced the vitae in my system to knit them back together. The pain began to fade, though I heard my beast rattle more aggressively against its cage. I coughed slightly, forcing the vitae out of my lungs and swallowed it. Finally able to stand up straight, I gestured to Marcus. 

“You did this, Callie,” I said, smiling at her. “You defeated him.”

She turned and stared at Marcus who was standing frozen in place, his face a mask of terror, his body still in the pose of an attacker. The bronze staff in his hand, used to strike out at Callie in an attempt to kill her… an attempt to silence her… hummed with power. The eyes on the skull at the top glowed a wicked green color. Marcus stood, the only part of him moving was his eyes, darting between the staff, Callie, and me. 

“You’re wondering what happened, aren’t you, Marcus?” I asked, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction rushing through me. I felt my habit of being an insufferable asshole rising to the surface. Turning to Callie, I asked, “Do you mind if I take the victory speech?”

“Go ahead,” she said, her voice something between a scoff and shock. “Not like I know what happened anyway.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling at her before turning back to Marcus. Diego, fresh from his fight, walked over, and Isadora stood with the mask in her hand, standing by Lucian and Natalia. “Actualy, all of this is thanks to Isadora and her wisdom. She knew that Callie was still under Marcus’ thumb, and thus did not give her the item that Natalia wanted.” 

“So you lied,” Callie said to Isadora, an edge in her voice, though also something else. Perhaps pride?

“Not exactly,” I said, cutting off an argument. “She simply stated that she found the item that ‘you’ were sent for. She never said who she was talking to, or what it was that they were sent for.”

“What?” Diego asked, confused. “Weren’t we all there for the same thing?”

“Yes and no,” I said, grinning. “See, we were all there to bring an item back that would secure the political position of the one that sent us. For myself, Diego, and Isadora, we were being sent by Natalia, whose power relied on containing Lucian and keeping him from ruining her reputation and shattering the trust the State had in her. Callie, on the other hand, was sent by Marcus to get an item that would allow him to rule over others, command them, and control them.” 

Callie’s eyes went wide as she turned and looked at Isadora. 

“You were talking to me specifically, that you found the item I was looking for,” she said, suddenly understanding. “But why? Why give Marcus the item he needed to secure his power?”

“Because he didn’t understand how to use it,” Isadora answered softly, shrugging slightly. “Because I knew that he would defy the purpose of it and destroy himself. As you can see, it is happening.” 

We turned and looked at Marcus, the hand he was holding the staff in began hardening, cracking, and flaking as if going through rapid mummification. His fangs were bared, but he couldn’t scream or turn away as he watched his own body beginning to decay. 

“What is happening?” Natalia asked, her eyes wide with fascination and horror. 

“Simple,” I grinned wider, looking at Marcus. “Like all who fall to hubris, he didn’t know what he was playing with and it bit him in the ass.” 

“I think, for once in all my time knowing you, I don’t want the simple answer,” Diego said, his tone flat, but his eyes glued to the horrific scene in front of him. 

“Very well. Isadora explained the mask to me, the Veil of Veii, was meant to judge the dead. The scepter was designed to subjugate the judged, in this case, the dead,” I explained, pointing at Callie. “He’d judged you, thus the scepter allowed him to control you. It didn’t affect Diego because his initial judgement of him was wrong. Hence why he was able to not only get the drop on him and geld him with a shotgun…” 

I looked Marcus dead in the eyes for that line, and was pleased to see that he took time away from watching in horror as his body slowly mummified inch by inch to glare daggers at me. 

“But also not be captured by the aura of control he was emitting using the staff.” I concluded the thought, grinning. 

“That’s why I couldn’t move?” Callie asked, heat returning to her voice. “Not because he was that much more powerful than me, but because the staff made him that strong?”

“Partially,” I confirmed. “What he didn’t realize was the scepter itself may be called the ‘Kingmaker’ and the ‘Tyrant’s Staff,’ but it went by another name. The Scepter of Velianas. Better known to those who know that history as Velianas of Caere, the tyrant who made a pact with the underworld for power.” 

“And you knew this?” Diego asked me, raising an eyebrow. 

“A power hungry Tremere would claim ‘yes’ to that one, but credit where credit is due,” I said, gesturing to Isadora. “She was the one who knew all this. Without her, we would have been going into this fight blind and with a much different, and worse, plan.” 

“You would give her credit?” Natalia asked, scoffing slightly. “No child of mine should allow themselves to appear anything short of perfect. We’ll work on that.” 

“I suddenly have the urge to bite her,” Isadora said, her tone flat, but I saw her grip on the mask tighten. 

“Not to worry, love, her time will come,” I said, grinning at Isadora, only realizing my mistake a moment later.

“Love, eh?” Diego asked, grinning at me. “Finally dropping the pretense?”

“I’ll drop you off a cliff. I know where to find one, remember,” I said, regaining my composure and moving back into my explanation. “Anyway, Velianas was known for two things: his tyrannical rule, and the commissioning of the Pyrgi tablets… Of which I believe Isadora is now the proud owner of one of the three.” 

If Kindred could blush, Isadora would have been bright red. 

“What good was it doing in a Camarilla vault anyway?” she asked, a note of indignation in her voice. 

“I wasn’t judging,” I said, calmly. “Just adding context to some behaviors we may have witnessed in the vault.” 

“So that tablet meant nothing to what we were looking for,” Diego said, looking over at Isadora. “It was just a cool thing you were geeking out over?”

“Yes,” Isadora said after a long pause, her eyes darting away from his. 

“Nice,” Diego said, eliciting a shocked reaction from her. “Always a great day when you get a sweet find for your interests.” 

“Indeed,” I agreed, then steered the conversation back to the task at hand. “But you see, Velianas wasn’t satisfied with controlling his subjects during their lives, but also wanted the power to control them even after death. He made a deal with some fiends in the underworld and was given the mask and staff. The mask allowed him to judge those who were dead, while the staff allowed him to control them. Only when used in tandem were the tools able to do exactly what he wanted. Unfortunately for him, the tools had other failsafes as part of their designs.” 

“They were cursed,” Callie translated. 

“They were cursed,” I confirmed. “Only a mortal could wield the mask, as Isadora and I learned the hard way, and only a benevolent ruler could wield the staff.” 

“Kindness?” Natalia asked, scoffing. “From the hells?”

“Cruelty disguised as kindness,” I said, turning back to Marcus, his body now mostly mummified, the desiccation crawling up his neck. “The fiends who crafted it knew what kind of man would want such an object. One who would use it to rule with an iron fist. They weren’t opposed to that, but power like that needed limitations and protections. And so, limits were put on it. Should the wielder ever use the scepter to usurp a proper ruler, such as if a slave ever got their hands on it, the scepter would backlash. If the wielder used it to try and seize power, in the case of making a rival ruler bend to his will, the scepter would backlash… And if the wielder ever tried to use it to silence witnesses…” 

I let the words hang in the air as all eyes turned to watch Marcus’ face twist in horror as his tongue shriveled, his eyes dried into husks, and his hair became brittle as straw. The last part of him to fade was his ears, appropriate as hearing was the last thing to leave a dying man. So I stepped forward and whispered in his ear, just before the curse took him completely.

“Once you took the staff from Callie, you failed,” I whispered to him, a grin on my face. “Your rule was doomed before it could ever begin. I was right about you when we first met: You were too arrogant and dismissive to notice you got played. You would have made a terrible leader.”

As the last bit of him mummified, I reached out and took the scepter from his hands, gently pulling it out of his grasp. Taking great care not to damage him, I lifted his body, which now weighed next to nothing, and placed him on one of the long wooden tables. 

“He’s… dead?” Callie asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but still impossibly loud in our current setting. “Like… that was the final death?”

“No,” I said, still smiling. “That would be too easy for one who betrayed his subjects or his word. He’s in torpor. Suspended in a hell of his own making. We could kill him, give him that mercy, but he’s going to be trapped like this forever otherwise.”

I turned to look at Callie. 

“That decision I leave to you,” I said, handing her the scepter. “Just remember, heavy is the head that wears the crown.” 

She stood there, gazing at the scepter as I walked past her, her mind surely whirling from the possibilities opening before her. Her voice, sharp and strong, like the first time I heard it came from behind me. 

“Why?” she asked, and I didn’t need further clarification. 

“Because you stood up to him. You held your own. And you were closer to him than any of us,” I turned to look back at her. “Who among us is a better choice to pass judgement on him than one who suffered most at his hand?”

Callie looked at me, and for the first time I think I saw true respect behind her eyes. After a long moment, she gave me a simple nod, turned her back to me, and went to stand over Marcus, scepter still in her hand. I left Callie to her musings, then turned to face Natalia and Lucian. 

“Now, as promised,” I said, my sire’s eyes suddenly filled with fear and understanding as I approached. “Natalia. Your time has come.”