Greetings o fan of Thor's works (or curious new person...whichever) This work is actually a redoing of a tale I had published and posted earlier. however while reviewing it I found many things I wanted to change/fix (many, many things...including whole new sections and changes of dialogue) Well said I (and mind you I said it literally) Well I said, maybe you should just rip down the old and put up the new...it seemed a good idea at the time (literally) and so I did so. I'll be reposting each section as I feel it is once more worthy for viewing. This story is the 2nd official Harris story (The first being 'Of Monsters And Men' ) But it is a stand alone feature, so you don't need to read the other unless you want more background on Harris and Roulda. *Story (and especially a certain sentance) now adjusted* Thus without further ado, please step into the streets of Detroit and meet...
The Thief Who Came In From The Cold: A Tale of Detroit
Prologue: And Let This Be The Winter of Our Discontent
Winter had come to Detroit. The night skies were gray. The streets lay victim to the damp streams of white that cascaded down upon them. The snow spiraled down from the sky, cold and white against the vast gray bleakness above and the deep dark blackness below. For a few instants the flakes even appeared like the innocent dances of whimsical fairies, until they finally reached their destination. The cold and drippy snow splattered against the windshield of the small beat up Volvo that sat in the middle of the parking lot. The noises of the city were subdued, hardly noticeable besides the occasional honk. Looming buildings swept skyward around the lot and the car. Their massive and dark shadows cloaked the car in their long concealing darkness. It could almost be called calm and peaceful. But, as in so many things, this was best known only as the calm before the storm.
Inside the car a lone figure waited, her eyes closed in contemplation as she quietly tapped out a tune on the dashboard. To those who knew it the tune was easily recognizable as Holst's 'Mars, The Bringer of War'. Another figure walked slowly across the damp and slush covered cement. It approached the car and tapped on the window. Inside the woman opened an eye to glance at the form outside. The eye flashed, a shining bright blue that seemed to cut to the soul of whatever she looked at. She grinned and motioned for the figure to open the door. The massive shadow did so, revealing the second occupant of the car.
He was a middle aged man with dark hair and finely trimmed beard and mustache. His face was that of a noble, proud of bearing and heritage. Only a few lines marred his patrician visage. Slight frown lines around the mouth. Small marks around the eyes from scowling. A tiny crease on the lips from pursing them in frustration once too often. He wore a fine gray suit and large, comfortable overcoat. But it was apparent all was not well with him. His face was strained, his hair ruffled and mussed. His expensive gray business suit was rumpled and dirty. His heavy overcoat damp from snow and smudged with dirt. It would have shocked those who knew him. For he was Eric, member of the powerful Ventrue clan, a kindred, a vampire. His power was great in the city, for he was seneschal of Detroit. Second in authority only to Prince Steven himself.
But now, despite his powers, all Eric could do was groan weakly as he attempted to fight off the massive hands that clamped down around his throat. The dark shadow appeared unimpressed by his struggles and easily dragged him from the car. The figure held Eric out with one arm, as it reached into its coat. It pulled out a polished stake of wood. Eric whimpered slightly, his urbane features twisting up in helpless fear. The massive shape easily plunged the stake through Eric's chest and deep into his heart.
The woman climbed out of the car smoothly. Her long and slightly curling blonde hair blew lightly about her face. Her skin was pale white, almost resembling polished ivory. One blue gloved hand reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. She tilted her head back as she looked up to the dark sky above her. Her full red lips curled slightly at the corners as she smiled. She stretched out her arms, as though inviting the flowing spirals of snow to come to her. The frozen droplets fell upon her pale, bare flesh. The icy water dripped down her alabaster skin, coursing in tiny rivulets over her gentle curves. The delicate crystals that caught in her flowing hair didn't melt, neither did the flakes catching against her face.
The large figure gripped Eric firmly by his coat and dragged him along. He quickly circled the car and opened an umbrella with his spare hand. He held it over the woman's head as he stood near her protectively. She paused to glance over at him with a small smile, her bright blue eyes flashing. The towering figure remained stoic and quiet, though the observant viewer would note the trace of unease...and passion in his eyes. She smiled at him, her blue eyes gleaming as she brushed away the snow from her face. She turned slowly and walked carefully through the damp snow. Her blue heels clicked on the pavement as she sauntered towards the second car. She grinned to herself as the massive figure walked alongside her, holding Eric as easily as the umbrella.
The mission had been a full success. The rest would be child's play. Soon Detroit would be finished. The Camarilla would fall before the fires of the Sabbat, and this time they would totally annihilate Prince Steven and the other elders. She didn't laugh, but the twinkling fires in her eyes danced eagerly at the thought.
Steven sat in his parlor listening to Mozart's 40th Symphony. Outside the swirling snow beat against the windowpane, the chill night held at bay by the crackling fire set before him. He reclined in a lush leather chair. His features were near identical to those of his seneschal. It was widely believed that Eric had spent many nights attempting to craft himself in Steven's image. But Steven's aristocratic manner was readily apparent, and for him totally natural.
His face held no telltale lines of displeasure or anger. Only a calm assuredness in his own status. His finely fashioned black suit was crisp and unrumpled in the least. One well manicured hand slowly tapped a gleaming crystal goblet in tune to the music. He watched the light play off the gleaming diamonds on his ring as he swung his hand. His highly polished shoes reflected his image back to him as he rested them on the head of the young woman who lay crumpled, bled dry, on the floor in front of him. A slight knock at the door caused him to glance up.
"Enter."
The door slid smoothly open to reveal the stooped form of Nicolai. The primogen of the Nosferatu clan of Detroit. The disfigured Kindred walked quickly across the room and bowed slightly to Steven. His long and tangled beard almost brushing the floor. He looked up at the prince and frowned slightly. The creases from the frown forced even deeper and more unnatural lines to form on his gray and peeling visage. A large insect crawled out of his beard and skittered up his face. Nicolai quickly reached up and snatched it off.
"My prince, I bring news most urgent." Steven knew it was so, Nicolai wasn't in the habit of ever leaving his sewer home. And any information that the primogen saw fit to deliver personally boded ill for his city. He motioned for Nicolai to come closer.
"What is it?"
"Eric has been captured by the Sabbat." Every inch of motion about Steven ceased. Even his eyes remained unblinkingly open.
"When?"
"Early tonight, outside of The Michigan Tower...."
Eric walked out of the gleaming office complex and into the dancing streams of snow outside. He had just finished laying down some of the prince's edicts onto a band of foolish neonates. He frowned as he recalled their rude comments and remarks. They would learn to respect him, they would learn his power in this city. He brushed some flakes of snow off his coat as he fantasized about what he would do to them. One of his ghoul guards shifted uneasily and Eric again began walking towards his waiting ride. His four bodyguards stood about him, ever alert for any danger to him.
Eric waited as they opened his door for him. Even as he stooped to get in to his limo he heard a groan and a small thump. Curious he stepped back and looked around. The sound had come from around the side of the building. He took a few steps over so he could glance around the corner. A small silver Volvo sat there, pulled up part way onto the sidewalk. A young woman with long blonde hair and dressed in a small blue dress and blue coat stood near it. She muttered again and kicked one of the wheels. She placed her hands on her hips as she eyed the car, as though her ire would somehow start it back up again. He felt a slight hiss within him, he had worked up a bit of an appetite...
Eric grinned as he eyed the slim figure. Her body seemed to be sculpted from alabaster by the hands of some long dead master. Her hair was flowing and luxurious as it spun and danced like gleaming golden silk in the wind. The tight dress left little to the imagination, the small coat not so much concealing as adding a sense of childlike innocence. Flashing blue eyes seemed to almost burst into tears as they eyed her ruined transportation. She shivered and muttered again as the snow started to fall thicker around her. Eric placed his hands back into his overcoat and began strolling towards her. A nod of his head left his ghoul guards hanging back a respectful, if minor, distance. He drifted up silently, she was too worried about her car to even note his approach.
"Is there a problem young lady," Eric asked with his usual aplomb. He saw the slight jump of her shoulders at his voice. Could imagine how her young fresh heart would be racing under her soft white skin. She glanced up at him and smiled nervously.
"My car..."
"Broken?"
Yes," she smiled as she lowered her head shyly.
"Perhaps I can be of service," Eric raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Two of his personal guard rushed over from his car to stand on either side of him. The woman looked up in surprise, her blue eyes wide as she eyed the two large men in black suits.
"My...who are they?"
"Associates," he glanced at them, "the young lady's car needs fixing." They nodded, understanding their role in this. Eric walked over to stand by her as the ghouls popped her hood and began to check the engine. Eric knew they would claim that they were unable to fix whatever the problem was. He smelled deeply of her fragrance, a sweet subtle scent. He would, of course, being a gentleman then offer her a ride. He turned and smiled at her, allowing some minor amount of his powers to influence others to sweep over her. It would be easier if she considered him a trustworthy friend after all. "My name is Eric."
"Oh! Sorry, my name is Desiree Cerulean. Thank you very much for helping me." Her face was bright, her eyes like blue fires. Her breath clouded around her delicately. She placed her hands in her coat and hunched her shoulders as she shivered slightly in the cold. He could feel his hunger for her rise, only his decades of discipline prevented him from tearing into her then and there. "Thank you so much for helping me."
"Think nothing of it," he said with a slight chuckle. He moved closer to her, allowing his presence to flow yet stronger against her. He saw her sink her eyes even more shyly away from him, obviously confused by how he was making her feel. "I do consider it my civic duty to help those in need. Especially the beautiful ones."
"Oh!" A hand was lifted from her jacket to gently cover her mouth as she laughed lightly. She peered up at him from the corner of her eyes, the white gleam of her teeth visible behind her bright red lips. Eric felt a urge to kiss those lips. Bite them. Stain them yet redder. The hunger grew within him, gods she was perfect! She gripped one of his hands as she turned towards him and looked deeply into his eyes. "So tell me, are you a good boy? Or is this all some trick to get to know me?"
Eric smiled, "if it is I must be a mastermind to have gotten your car to break down."
"True, so are you being good?"
"I didn't say that." He felt his hunger sharpen. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this one. Perhaps he might even keep her for a few days. There was something about her, a heat that urged him to want her. Desire her. Need her. Her eyes danced as she pressed herself against him.
"How can I ever repay you?" Eric grinned and ran his finger lightly across his lips.
"I suspect I can conceive of one way or another." His eyes danced down her lithe and curvaceous form. The soft material of the dress, the short supple jacket. He smelled deeply of her as he reached out to brush at her hair. She smiled at him, her eyes bewitching sapphire pools.
"You better think fast."
"Whatever for, I enjoy you being in my debt." He leaned in closer. "Now, how do you plan to work off this debt?"
"Sir," one of the ghouls looked up, his tone tense and alert, "nothing is wrong with..."
Desiree suddenly planted a knife in Eric's gut, he felt himself lose almost all muscle control and drop to the snowy ground. Red blood spilling from his gut. The two ghouls went for their guns, but Desiree had already whipped out a pair of gleaming .45 automatics from under her coat. She easily planted two bullets in each of their heads. She spun around as the other two guards leapt from their car and fired at her. Bullets hissed over her as she easily dropped to one knee on the snowy sidewalk. Her eyes flashed as she looked at them, they tried to shift their weapons lower. She blasted a round into each of their knees. As they dropped she fired two more bullets into each of them. The ghouls howled in pain and fell back.
"C'mon asshole."
One of her guns disappeared in a flash into her coat. One blue gloved hand snapped out and grabbed Eric. With a curse she heaved him into her car. She slammed the door shut and turned to circle around the car. As she passed the front she slammed down the hood and headed for the driver's seat. She passed between the first two ghouls as she walked. They grunted as they started to stagger up, fighting off their injuries, the blood of their master healing their wounds. Desiree smirked at them. The one who had yelled the warning rose directly in front of her, his eyes narrowed dangerously. Her long shapely leg flashed up as she kicked him in the face, he grunted and was thrown backward to fall into the street.
The second was pulling himself up with the car. As she passed she idly tilted her gun towards him and pumped three bullets into his back at point blank range. He grunted as he sank back down to the dirty snow of the street. Desiree leaped into the car and floored it. As she roared away she laughed at the bumps the car made as it drove over the two ghouls.
"...She quickly withdrew and my men lost track," sighed Nicolai as he finished his story. He leaned back in his chair and bit into the bug he had been holding. Their was a soft crunch and sucking noise as he slurped up its insides. Nicolai shook his head as he slipped the remains back under his rags. "One of Eric's ghouls died, but I think that was simply coincidence. She was just getting him, and seemed unimpressed by them."
"Who was she," asked Steven, still unmoving in his chair.
"Not a Sabbat," Nicolai handed Steven a dingy manila folder. The prince idly flipped it open and glanced at the small list of known facts about the woman. Nicolai shifted uneasily as he continued. "It appears she is an independent contractor. An Assamite."
"Damn."
"From what I hear a very good one, specializes in kidnapping and torture....and, of course, destroying bothersome kindred."
"Of course."
"I am unsure of where exactly she took him, we're still questioning the ghouls about any other facts they may have overlooked."
"Like something as simple as a license plate."
"Yes, Eric could have picked his men better." Steven frowned as he set the folder down. This was bad business, Eric knew far too much about the inner workings of the city to be allowed to remain long in enemy hands. If word of this spread there could be a panic. Yet he would need every Kindred he could spare trying to locate his lost childe. Steven's eyes narrowed as he readied for action.
"We need him free or dead."
"I am well aware," said Nicolai quietly.
"I'll contact Octavian. I want every one of your clan working on this immediately."
"Yes, my prince."
"Remember, we have only until they break him."