Billie Lee went back to Houston. AJ was still staying with her sire, but had fully recovered from her ordeal. A few months later they met Henry, a genial Brujah, and the three more-or-less became a coterie. Things were getting hot in Houston, however, when Amilie Coques Saint-Jacques showed up and usurped the city’s Harpy. Not even Dominic could protect Billie Lee, and by her association, AJ and Henry. So the three fled back east, to north-eastern PA this time, a little city called Steel Valley.
The Reverend Billie Lee Black smiled drunkenly as she leveled a shot at the empty Miller Lite can across the room. It jumped with the impact and she hit it three more times before it hit the floor. She was using show pellets, which made a fraction of the noise of an actual shot, but she doubted AJ would be together enough to walk across the hall to tell her to shut up, and Henry, well, Henry just knew better. Finally, she threw the gun across the room, simply because she didn’t want to hold it anymore.
The ride home had been silent, and thank God for that. AJ, once she stopped sniffing, just stared wantonly out the window, and Billie Lee had been in no mood to try and comfort her friend. Innocence, she reflected, does have a price. For Henry’s part, he was annoyed with the events of the night and also had kept quiet as they drove down the PA Turnpike.
They both, the two of them, let their hearts show far too much, either that, or they hadn’t learned the way of the Caine-blooded. It was all right to still care, still try, but one still had to understand that they were a member of a society of vicious predators, a place where the law is the mandate of the whim of the eldest, and there is no such thing as ‘fair’. Billie Lee, unfortunately, had learned this early on and at a high cost. She held to her principles, then, ever since; do what you can, save whom you can should they deserve it, never forget the game you’re a part of, never become evil. It was all a neonate could do.
Klaus, good ol’ ‘Eurotrash’, Memphis, and Lorenzo had tried to shame her, tried to paint her as some racist who didn’t care about what was going on. Damnit, why did everyone suspect her of having no compassion, no trace of mortality left? She’d always been right, hadn’t she? About Paulie, about Amille Coques San Jacques who had malicious designs, was Sabbat, and was probably behind the pack that killed her husband. What had Ivy said about AJ?
“I’d better go talk to her.”
“I guess, but then, she gotta learn sometime that this ain’t no kid’s run through the fields, m’am.”
“True, but...but she has a son.”
So did Billie Lee, when it came down to it. If not for an untimely embrace, she and Bubba would have been married in two months, and if not for death, that horrible thing her body expelled would have grown into their child. But then, there was only one other person who knew about all of that, and that had been two years ago. It certainly wasn’t a card Billie Lee wanted to show again, especially in a city where enemies were plentiful.
AJ had shown up at Billie Lee’s small apartment just as the reverend was stepping out the door. This was the first clue she had that something was wrong, as they were supposed to meet for coffee, but not this early in the evening. The writer had been crying, so much was obvious, so they went back inside and Billie Lee got them each a beer from the fridge. For a while, she didn’t speak, then took a long shuddering sigh.
“He has HIV.”
“Who does?”
“Miles. The doctor said he got it from a transfusion when he was little. Now, n-now they’re saying it could become full AIDS any time now...and...” AJ burst into new tears, not even trying to keep them from running down her cheeks and staining her clothes.
“Jesus, I’m sorry, hun. Can’t ya get him some of that new drug? They’re always commin’ out with new stuff, ya know?”
Head buried in her hands, AJ continued to sob. “He’s had nearly everything they’ve been putting out. None of it works anymore!”
Getting up from her seat, Billie Lee sat down on the couch next to her friend, and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, now, we’ll find somethin’.”
Sniffing and looking up, her face covered in blood, AJ turned. “That’s why I came here. I need your help. I, I think that if he was embraced, the disease would pass out of his blood, right?”
“Great bleedin’ Christ, do you have any idea what yer suggestin’?” Billie Lee was about to follow that up with ‘Why don’t we talk to your sire?’, but AJ suddenly stood violently.
“Yes, yes I do! And if you’re my friend, if there’s a shred of human decency left in you, you’d agree with me! What, do you just want him to die?”
“No, it’s not like that. What I mean was-“
“I know what you meant!” and she began to tremble, which told the gunslinger that her friend was upset beyond the point of reason, “what do you care about Miles? He’s just another mortal, right, another fly to be swatted away?”
“Now, AJ, I want you to just calm down and think ‘bout what yer sayin’-“
“Yeah, calm down! Calm down and be helpless, that’d be easy for you, wouldn’t it? What do you know, did you ever watch your husband die? Did you ever watch your child die? No! So how could you...”
And while AJ’s terrified rant continued, Billie Lee was swept up in a tide of pain, rage, and hate, as memories and thoughts she’d rather bury came surging to the foreground. Forms lying twisted in more blood than any decent person should ever see in their life, one huge and mangled with only the face left pristine and intact, and the other tiny and dying before it ever had a chance to live. Time slowed down as Billie Lee stood and took a step in front of her friend, though to the other Toreador, it must have seemed instantaneous.
AJ had a second to look confused before Billie Lee slapped her across the face then remained in place while the shock set in and AJ simply stood, hand on her face, and silent.
“Don’t you ever, ever assume that you know what someone else thinks and feels! You don’t know as much about me as you think, missie! I had a husband once, ‘least he was gonna be if a pack of wild Mexican Sabbat hadn’t shredded him as a message to me. I killed ‘em all, but it was too late, and I couldn’t do anythin’ but kneel there and watch him die.”
“I...I didn’t know...” AJ managed, weakly.
“And do you know what happens if yer embraced while with child?”
Numbly, she shook her head. “No.”
“Well, think ‘bout basic biology. A baby’s gotta live off the mamma, right? And if the mamma ain’t livin’...”
“The child dies,” the writer finished.
“And it is horrible, and it is bloody, and the thing that gets...expelled,” Billie Lee nearly choked as her throat tightened and tears threatened to run over, “is a thing that gets changed by the higher blood and is in no way a thing resemblin’ a human bein’.”
Then, there was silence in the room while they both stared at the floor. Again, the original sin of the father reaped unimaginable torment and tragedy on victims seperated by millennia from the act. Finally, Billie Lee spoke.
“Look, I know how much you want to help yer son, and any help you need from me, well, you got it. But I think you should go talk to yer sire first, a’ight?”
AJ nodded again, whispering, “I’m sorry.”
That night, they got into Billie Lee’s truck and drove to Dominic’s estate.
Drudgery, is what most of the night came to. The same people bitching and scheming and elbowing each other around the same circle. Lorenzo and his little fluky, Eurotrash, had cornered Billie Lee and AJ and derided them for backing Ivy. All this, however was done under the pretext of asking for constructive criticism on his performance as Primogen. While AJ answered simply and honestly, Billie Lee kept mostly silent except for some inane spoutings she hoped would annoy the man enough that he’d leave them alone. She’d backed Ivy because she trusted the woman more than the fluffy poser she saw whine about escaping though the sewers that night when security went haywire.
Anyway, once they told Shaw about it, he promised that something would be done. Klaus was close to Lorenzo, who was buddy-buddy with Memphis, who was in bed with the Ventrue. And though Billie Lee had managed to get this information to Ivy, she hadn’t had a chance to tell Shaw that night.
Then had come the appointment of Henry as sheriff’s deputy, a decision that while Billie Lee didn’t disagree with, she didn’t understand how the officials of the city were so willing to overlook her potential contributions. After all, she might not be a Brujah with potence, leather jacket, and enough rage to kill with a glance, being a Toreador and not the above-mentioned clan, there was no denying that she was a quick-thinker, and even faster to move, when she had to be. Hell, she’d already saved that mewling Ventrue from that Chains member by knocking him over and then having the sense to keep him alive for later questioning.
It had all come to a head, really, when talking with AJ and a man who’s name she couldn’t remember later, a sudden silence deadened the room, and Billie Lee knew it could only mean one thing, Assamites.
With her supernatural senses at their peak, she could only hear a dull thudding, and taking a step towards that corner of the room, she saw one of the rabbi’s who’d come earlier spring out of invisibility. Memphis, that whiny little wimp, ran over immediately to stick his nose where it shouldn’t be, and received a cleaving slash to his throat from the man’s blade. Billie Lee concentrated, and the world around her slowed as she walked up to the Assamite and folding her hand into the shape of a gun, touched him on the upper arm and said, “Freeze.”
It was a risky gamble, even more so when all the ‘men-folks’ of Elysium ran their way, all sorts of weapons drawn and shouting at her to move out of the way so they could kill the man. Rather, he turned behind the support pole and vanished from everyone’s sight. Still moving normally through a world stuck in pause-frame, Billie Lee now noticed the other rabbi and the Sheriff, Furey, locked in terrible combat. She swung a kick at the man’s leg, which he easily dodged, then it was her turn to narrowly avoid being grappled by the now-visible other rabbi.
As it was, she shoved her into the wall, and through the slowed din of combat, she heard Ivy shouting over and over to get out of there. And then, she understood. Billie Lee watched the Assamite, sword drawn, holding out his prayer-book to the firing squad before him, shouting for them to back off. Shouting, but doing nothing, even though his powerful Obfuscate meant he was old enough that he could probably kill them all if he wanted. Walking evenly as time was still running slow for the rest of the world, she put a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Do what you came here for, then leave, and you both shall come to no harm.”
For a moment lasting all the heartbeats any mortal could wish for, nothing happened. Furey then burst off across the room, being chased by a stake animated with some terrible form of sorcery, and the attacking Assamite followed. The one who she still had a hand on, calmly walked through the room, people parting on all sides. Billie Lee, however, stood frozen for a moment, staring in amazement at her hand, and wondering at her foolhearted act.
She’d approached an elder Assamite, unarmed, then escaping that, had dared to touch him. He hadn’t killed her for interfering. It had been the ultimate risk, but she knew she’d been right; the Assamites had been hired to kill a single person and would attack those who tried to prevent this, though on success, they would leave and cause no further trouble. There’d been no time to explain this to the fight-lusting folks who’d rushed over to stomp the ‘bad guys’. Only Henry would have listened, but he couldn’t be expected to convince the others of this wisdom in mere seconds. Fools, the two rabbi’s could have easily wiped out the entire Elysium, but they still wouldn’t have listened to her and her friend.
AJ had come out from under the table where she’d been hiding, and they all listened to what the rabbi’s had to say. ‘Furey’ had, in life, been an Italian officer in a German concentration camp during WWII and responsible for the death of thousands, including the entire family of one of the rabbi’s. A supernatural element within the Israeli government had contracted the kill, and Furey would be taken to the contractor. The Masquerade would be protected and justice would be served.
In the end, they took Furey, and the Prince had no objections. Frankly, neither did Billie Lee. Assamites, she knew, had no need to lie about their business, so the man’s story, as terrible and regrettable as it was, must have been true. There were those who afterwards called her heartless for thinking what happened had been right.
The truth was, Furey had been given a chance to defend himself. Only one of the two attacked him. Should he have been strong enough, he would have escaped. And justice? What they’d seen that night had been justice, the savage law of the jungle which said that the weak were prey to the strong, and the strong may do as they wish. A man’s own will becomes justice, when he joins the powerful ranks of the undead. There is no judge, no appeal, no chance; if you’ve done no wrong, then you have nothing to fear.
That’s why Billie Lee went home and drank two six-packs of beer cut with blood to make it effective. AJ, she knew, would cry, or write, or just stare off into nothingness as she tried to forget what she was, what they all were. Henry? She wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was old, and the old ones have their ways. When it came down to it, they were a coterie, the closest thing to family that her damned kind could get. Where would each of them be without the others? Perhaps that was the answer after all, the answer to humanity, the answer to Grace. Kindness and mercy, friendship and camaraderie, blood and darkness. Reverend Billie Lee Black wasn’t trying to forget, she knew all too well what she was, but to dream drunkenly of bright days. Guns, dust, sun, and the gentle fallout, like stars.
My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy.
~ The Catholic Act of Contrition
The November winds were cold and they bit as if they were as bitter as those that would come in later winter. Keep warm, hadn’t that been what AJ always ended a phone call with? Billie Lee shrugged and bowed her shoulders against the wind.
Henry, AJ, and AJ’s mortal son Miles had vanished two weeks previous. At first Billie Lee had suspected foul play, maybe even Sabbat. However, all their belongings were gone, as was AJ’s minivan, and the Texan had a gut feeling they weren’t coming back. They’d gone one night while she was out hunting, didn’t even give her any indication of what was happening. For a while Billie Lee had clung to the fantasy that they’d been in great danger and would contact her. That was before she remembered AJ possessed the power of Telepathy and could have contacted her by thought at any time.
No, her coterie was gone; gone with the wind. Apparently they hadn’t been as close as she thought. Maybe there was something to the Sabbat’s pack blood-bond, Billie Lee though wryly as she tried to keep afloat in Steel Valley. The thing was, though, after AJ and Henry left, she found it hard to…care. City politics was stupid and pointless, as were most of the distractions that filled the nights. Her guns hadn’t been fired in a long time, and she hadn’t felt the desert wind on her skin in an equally long time. Something was drawing her away, drawing her back to Texas.
TO BE FINISHED...