Warily, I crept down the darkened street, my left hand clutching the small gun I’d bought off Nick Gunner. This was foolish indeed; the Sabbat still held most of Swarthmore, and that idiot Ventrue, William, was marrying his childer, the French woman, Yvonne. That, perhaps, I could understand, but a bridal shower? It was just asking for trouble, but there I was on my way.
A car turned down the street, and ducking into the shadows, I went into Earthmeld until it passed by. Yeah, it was probably nothing, but you just can’t take chances. The moon was rising when I reached the house of Mace, who was throwing the party, and there found her, Lady Meredith, and two Brujah, Joe and Calli. I was nervous, I mean, first of all we were at war, and second, no one in this town ever gives a party without having a motive, usually a bad one.
A few minutes later, Sasha, an irritatingly crass Torredor wedding arranger, hired by William, entered and began setting things up in preparation for the arrival of Yvonne. She was quite pushy, and talked in a loud, brash New York accent. If she wasn’t in good with the Ventrue I’d have slashed her throat and not have given it a second thought.
Soon Yvonne joined the party, accompanied by Sara, the blind Irish nun I’d met at William’s house. It being so close to St. Patrick’s Day, she was raving drunk, and before stumbling elsewhere, dropped off a few mortals who’d clearly had a few hundred too many. Great, just what we needed. The rest of the women dug in, but I drew Lady Meredith aside.
"Is it wise to drink? What if the Sabbat come?"
"Lighten up, Ta’jid. This is a bachelorette party, relax, have fun," she replied, and found a mortal to enjoy.
When I was a young girl in Rubengrad, USSR, the married women of the town would have a dinner for the bride-to-be and exchange advice. The little girls of the village were allowed to attend, and I remember having pleasant times at those functions. As I aged, and became more involved with the Resistance and fighting the Red Army and KGB, I missed more and more of the dinners. In a few years, however, Stalin’s officials put an end to them. Perhaps this careless merriment was an American custom.
After a few hours, everyone was totally inebriated, and even Lady Meredith was a bit tipsy. They laughed hysterically over anything, discussing the posterior regions of some prominent male members of Swarthmore’s Kindred society. Sasha, who’d learned that the men were having a bachelor party at the house of Lord Brendon, decided that we should call them.
"Ta’jid," slurred Mace, "we’re gonna call Tyler, you pretend to be Lady Mae."
I refused, and tried to hide in Obfuscate. Though they didn’t find me, the drunk fools called anyway, and thought the whole thing was hilarious. I guess I missed something, for I had no idea what they could have found humorous about bothering the Prince.
Suddenly, the wall splintered, and five Sabbat burst in. One had a gun, and began shooting at the confused women. Callie and Joe ran into each other, Sasha hid behind a couch with Yvonne, and Mace blinked in and out of Obfuscate. They were in no condition to fight. Fortunately, Lady Meredith was not as drunk as I’d thought.
"Help me keep them at bay, then get the rest out of here!" I shouted.
She nodded, and threw a ball of green fire at the gun-toting Sabbat, frying him, and setting the basement aflame. I took on a big, ugly guy. Dodging his blows, I used Shadow of the Beast to turn into a wolf and corner him. Reverting to my natural form, I slashed him with my Wolfclaws. He was then no longer a concern. The remaining three Sabbat fell back, so Lady Meredith and I herded Joe, Callie, Mace, Sasha, and Yvonne through the flames, all of them too confused to frenzy.
We piled into Sasha’s car, Lady Meredith taking the wheel(I have not yet mastered driving), and drove over to Lord Brendon’s house. I kept a look-out for any Sabbat that might be following us. How could we have been so stupid to think that our enemies would not attack in our moment of weakness? The Prince would not be pleased.
Screaming loud enough to wake Cain, the women staggered into the house. I followed, and was met with a frightening sight. The charred body of the city’s Deputy Enforcer, Lord Nick Gunner of Ventrue, lay on the floor. Mace saw it and sobbed, red tears streaming down her face. Prince Tyler was furious, and called the Primogen to meet, except a Ventrue representative, for he suspected that the assassination of Gunner had been a conspiracy.
Lady Meredith and I told the Prince what had happened, and he decided against waiting for an all-out strike, and wanted to try to take out the Sabbat that night, for a perimeter patrol had reported prowlers around the house. Taking three armed Kindred guards, he went out to check.
A large Tremere, that I assumed was new to the city, sobered up the women, but I discovered Sasha had fled, fearing the Sabbat. Lord Brendon stormed around the house, clutching an ornately carved mirror, and raving as usual. New faces greeted me, including an extremely tall Brujah named Pierce. I asked him what had happened to Gunner.
Pierce told me that the Malkavians had wanted to give William a very special wedding present; Primogen of Clan Ventrue. They’d given a magic show, and pulled a name out of a hat to be a volunteer. Later investigation showed that all the names had been that of Gunner. They sat him down in a chair that had been soaked in kerosene for two weeks, covered him with a cloak, and set the chair on fire. Afterward, they claimed the trick had gone wrong, and that Gunner wasn’t supposed to die.
I paced, nervous and unsure of what would happen. Sammy Coop, a Malkavian, put on some Dixie jazz, then he and some Brujah started dancing. Was I going insane? We were facing an entire city’s worth of Sabbat, and these revelers were making merry. I left that room to stand by the door. If our enemies wanted to get in that house, they were going to have to go through me.
In the kitchen, three mortal women were lying unconscious, guarded by a face I swore I’d seen before. Yes, I had! It was Jared, the Assimite who’d tried to pass himself off as Gangrel. I hid by the door in Obfuscate so he wouldn’t recognize me. Anger flared in me and I growled softly. When the war with the Sabbat was finished, I was going after him.
There was only silence on the other side of the door, so I walked through a small dining room, coming into the back room just in front of Prince Tyler. The large Tremere and Sammy Coop were sitting on the couch beside a window at the far end of the room.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the window, and all of us in the room drew our guns. The large Tremere backed against the wall as Sammy Coop rolled to the floor and pulled out a shotgun. My small gun, comfortable in my left hand, was cocked and aimed at that window. Time seemed to stand frozen in that moment, and the sinking feeling I’d had all night now rushed through me.
Total Darkness fell, and all I could hear was the screams of those caught unaware. Glass shattered, and I smelled a lit fuse. I knew what to do, what I’d always known it would come to. Dropping my gun and drawing my Wolfclaws, I moved directly in front of Tyler, hoping to absorb some of the explosion. Only an instant had passed since light faded, but it seemed an eternity. I knew what was coming.
The blast was so loud that it was silent, and before the brightness of it crested to white, I saw the room, halted eternally in that one second. The shock wave blew me apart, the searing heat vaporized my undead body. As the darkness of oblivion overcame me, I was relieved to have at least saved the Prince. Like my father, I’d at least died defending my cause; my Prince and my city. Silence came.