A few days had passed since the whole ordeal, and things seemed to be calming down. Maya had finished discussing the details of her deal with the Regent and the spells were already on their way to her ghouls’ excavation in Libya. Hayden had spent every night hanging out with Nicholas at the latter’s apartment. He could feel that their connection was getting deeper. Of course, the human was starting to grow suspicious of him only being available at night, but Hayden was able to lie that he was busy with some online courses and other things during the day, and that he would always go to visit his parents on the weekends. It would only work for so long, and the thought of that scared Hayden.
Suspicious was also the fact that Hayden had no mobile phone, cause who doesn’t have one in the 21st century? He had to lie about that too, and told Nicholas that he had broken his last one, and didn’t really have any reason to get another one any time soon. For the time being, Hayden’s lover simply thought that he was more eccentric than the average person.
That night, Nicholas was out of town, visiting his family. That gave Hayden some time to think about them, and their future. He couldn’t keep the ruse going forever. Eventually, Nicholas would realize something is off, and he’d pursue the truth. Hayden could tell him, but he had no way of being certain how the male would react. He could freak out and do something rash, such as try to attack him, or go around telling people. It would all be a big Masquerade breach, and both of them would be killed by the Camarilla. Or, he would accept it and still love Hayden for who he is. Yeah, right.
There was the option of turning Nicholas into a ghoul, but only theoretically. Practically, Hayden was never going to do it. He genuinely liked Nicholas, and making him his ghoul would only twist their relationship. A relationship should be based on real trust and respect, not the false attraction that a blood bond induces. Besides that, Hayden dearly missed being human and could not bring himself to take that away from someone he loved.
The night was getting awfully boring. The TV was playing a late-night rerun of an obnoxious reality show about a bunch of women trying to find husbands and acting like they deserved the finest gems in the world, when they themselves were no upstanding specimens. If Hayden had any real reason to, besides ridding the channel of an abomination and giving people something better to do with their time, he would force his way into the show’s studio and use his powers on the producer to make him cancel the show.
Hayden’s attention barely on the TV, it was quickly stolen away and directed towards the apartment’s door as he heard the sound of something briefly brushing up against the floor. He could see a piece of paper lying down on the welcome mat – someone had slid it underneath. With a bit of hesitation, Hayden got up and approached the door. There was no point in opening it, since whoever had stopped by was definitely gone by that point. Upon closer inspection, he could see the paper on the floor was actually an envelope, sealed with red wax. Picking it up, Hayden turned it around; on the back, it read: “Urgent matter – J”. It was a letter from the Prince, no doubt a job for Hayden to take on. It seemed like his days of being the Camarilla’s underdog were coming back, and he was not one bit excited about it.
With a sigh, the man headed towards his little art corner in the apartment, grabbing his palette knife off of the easel and using it to carve the envelope open. Small traces of red paint left on the knife smeared across the envelope. Hayden chuckled, imagining the Prince dropping a few drops of blood from his fancy wine glasses while sealing the envelope. After all, there were rumors that the big leader of the Las Vegas Camarilla was a sloppy drinker.
Once the envelope was pried open, Hayden pulled out the letter inside, crumpling and throwing the envelope into the nearby bin. Unfolding the paper, it read as follows.
Mr. Renner,
As I have told you, I would contact you if I required your assistance. You have identified the man from the attack as Hiramatsu Asahi, despite his claims to be a neutral vampire. While, of course, I am not saying you lied to me about it, which would be a great transgression, we still require proof before we can make a move against him. Although the Camarilla’s control of Vegas is pretty much absolute, the relatively small Anarch presence within the city can still cause quite the stir if they come to believe that we’ve persecuted an innocent Kindred. The last thing we need is having more vampires swayed into joining the Anarchs.
As such, I have assigned a Nosferatu vampire with investigating our culprit. I need you to meet up with him and have him relay the information to you. It’s preferable you make sure you’re not followed, but our agent is very shrewd – if you are followed, he will sense it and not show up. So if he ditches you, you will know that someone’s tailing you.
Meet him at the Wheel of Misfortune.
Contact me or my Sheriff as soon as you get the information. Best of luck,
Prince Black.
Reading that he had to deal with a Nosferatu made Hayden hate the mission even more. If there are any two clans that are utter opposites of each other, it’s the Toreador and Nosferatu. While the former seek to embrace well-endowed people with the most stunning looks, the latter are cursed with visages which mirror the Beast within them and draw the ire of the aesthetic-loving Divas.
Hayden was no exception to this. The thought of being Embraced as a Nosferatu instead of a Toreador always made him shudder. If he had been cursed to become a vampire, at least it was in a good clan (in his eyes, at least).
There was no time to waste, knowing that if the Lasombra found out that Hayden had seen him in the building, he’d be in big trouble. Turning off the TV right as one of the desperate women was giving a monologue, Hayden locked his apartment and exited the building.
Since the meeting place was too far for him to walk to, Hayden made his way over to a nearby taxi station, jumping in one of the cabs and asking the driver to take him near the location. After paying the driver and stepping out of the vehicle, Hayden looked around to see if there was anyone in sight. Not that he could tell, even when using his Auspex, but the shadow wielders could do well staying out of sight. With no time to linger on paranoid thoughts, Hayden began walking towards the abandoned mine.
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The desolate place had become a playground for street artists since its abandonment, its structures covered in all kinds of colorful graffiti. Some of it portrayed various messages, some was purely done for the aesthetic. Hayden didn’t really see beauty in a bunch of cement covered with paint, but at least appreciated some of the messages those artists were trying to convey through it.
Walking through the concrete structures, he anticipated the Nosferatu to show up any second, unless, of course, he had indeed been followed by someone. After a few more moments, Hayden could suddenly hear a voice behind him, which caused him to quickly turn towards its source. Before him stood the accursed vampire, as hideous as Hayden was beautiful. His ash-colored skin looked as if it was almost rotten, his jaw bent in a peculiar manner. His ears were elongated, but without the grace of the fair folk. His green eyes were the same shade as Hayden’s, but looked far more devious.
Hayden recoiled at the sight and didn’t even bother to hide it.
“Ugh, they really had to send a Torrie down here?” The man spoke bitterly, throwing the cigar previously in his mouth on the ground.
“Believe me, I wasn’t too fond of coming either. But if the Prince orders something, you do it.” Hayden replied on an annoyed tone, like a child trying to spite their parents when they didn’t get what they wanted.
“Yeah, the Prince. Real piece of work, that one. Anyhoo, I got word that you fingered some Lasombra dude in the Sabbat attack on the Chantry. You got balls my dude.”
Hayden squinted his eyes in irritation. It wasn’t enough that he feared for his safety, but that disfigured prick was joking about it too.
“Anyway, name’s Eyeball. Cause you know, I watch people.”
“Hayden. Cause that’s what my mother named me.”
The Nosferatu burst into laughter. Hayden hadn’t intended to make a joke, but ended up slipping in a little chuckle as well.
“Hah, you’re good man! Anyway, back to the point. Hiramatsu Asahi, pretty active vampire here in Vegas. Such a good liar, fooling everyone that he’s neutral and independent. The Anarchs are watching his back, they want him to join them real bad, especially given all the relationships he has.”
Pulling an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket, the man extended it towards Hayden, who was obviously not willing to put his hands on it.
“Believe it or not, I shower and wash my hands. I’m a huge germophobe, which is why I don’t live in the sewers, like plenty of my fellow clan members do.”
The Toreador sighed, grabbing the envelope, barely touching it with the tips of his fingers, like a lady that had just done her nails and was being careful not to ruin them. Inside the envelope were several photos taken at different locations, either clubs, bars or museums. The main focus of them was a man’s silhouette, whose image was distorted beyond recognition, like putting it in Photoshop, darkening it, then using the smudge tool on it. In every picture, the figure was surrounded by a person or more, different from photo to photo.
“That’s your Asahi guy. Sadly you can’t catch a clear picture of him on camera cause of his clan’s bane, but I assure you that’s him. Besides, the important ones are the people around him. All of them are vampires, people he’s formed partnerships with. To say friends would be an overstatement, we both know Kindred rarely make actual friends.”
“He’s sure got a lot of contacts. How exactly does this help us, though?”
“Easily.” Eyeball said, placing his clawed finger on a specific picture. “You can’t contact him directly, but you can reach him through her.”
Hayden turned his gaze to the photograph. The man’s finger was pointing at a woman, one Hayden was all too familiar with. Another member of the Clan of the Rose, an influential elder by the name of Emily Hudson. Hayden had interacted with her on numerous occasions, though their little discussions were never too pleasant. She personally knew his sire, and would go out of her way to subtly blame Hayden for his disappearance every time they spoke.
“God, not her. Just cause we’re from the same clan, doesn’t mean I can easily talk to her.” Hayden spoke on an unmotivated tone, running his free hand through his hair. “She sort of hates me. Thinks it’s my fault that my sire ran away after Embracing me. I’m presuming they had a thing going between them in the past, and she’d rather still make excuses for my sire than admit that he had his own issues.”
“Sounds tough man, but if the Prince says you gotta reach this guy by yourself, then she’s the key to him for you. He’s big on gambling, claims he gets the money from some association of his. You can find him in the “Lady Luck” casino many nights, and Emily often goes there to watch him play. I doubt she even knows the rules, but I guess she’d do anything to be surrounded by people.”
Hayden let out a subtle scoff at the image of Emily sitting at a casino table with her arms wrapped around some Lasombra crook. He figured she was hurt by his sire’s departure, but not that she’d sink so low.
“Of course, I’m not incompetent. That’s not all the dirt I dug up.” Eyeball continued, pulling yet another envelope from his jacket and handing it to Hayden. “Asahi’s haven is hidden, or so he thinks. Slick might be inconspicuous, but his ghouls sure aren’t. Few ghouls manage to excel at stealth, except for those of the Nosferatu. We know how to stay hidden, and teach our agents appropriately. My ghoul managed to track Asahi’s lackey on the way to his haven as he was going to do his daytime watch over his domitor. So now, we got the fucker’s address.”
Hayden look down at the envelope, a smirk on his face. As hideous as the Nosferatu are, they sure are good at getting information. Then he couldn’t help but wonder if any of them had info on him as well. That he was regularly interacting with a human. Maybe they didn’t, or else the Prince would’ve already warned him to stop it.
“So, here’s how you should approach this. One night, you go to the casino when he’s there, interact with Emily and get him to notice you. Then, you use your little Toreador charm to get him to spill the beans. Another night, when he’s also at the casino, you sneak in his haven and see what you find.”
“If you and your ghouls are so stealthy, why don’t you go in?” Hayden asked, crossing his arms and shifting his weight between his legs.
“I was paid to get only so much info. Going or sending my ghouls straight into the unknown haven of some Sabbat scoundrel, that’s a lot of extra pay that the Prince is not willing to provide. It would be easier if he just had a computer I could hack into, but he’s a goddamn Lasombra with the Sabbat. Probably writes his diary on a papyrus scroll.”
With a sigh, Hayden tucked the two envelopes inside his trousers, hidden beneath his shirt. He was about to say something, but was prevented by the sudden voices of people nearby. Before he could even turn to check, the Nosferatu vanished from right in front of him, without a single word.
The anticipation of a fight was killed when Hayden saw that it was just a bunch of teenagers, preparing to cover yet another piece of concrete with graffiti art. With an almost disappointed shake of his head, the male began walking away, heading back towards the city. There was a bus stop nearby, from which he grabbed one straight to the Prince’s haven at the Nevada South casino.
The Sheriff, as grumpy as usual, let Hayden in to see the Prince, who was expecting him. After all the information was relayed to him, he did exactly what Hayden feared he would. Assigned him to deal with the mission. The Prince claimed he believed Hayden would be the least suspicious individual to approach Asahi and get close to him. Perhaps it was true, but it didn’t make the Neonate feel any safer. He was putting himself in danger, but then again, he had already done it the moment he had spotted the vampire during the attack and decided to tell the Prince. But it was too late to go back.
The Ivory Tower always gets what it wants.