Los Angeles

The city hummed with latent energy, the hum of millions of people coming and going and the impressions their doing so left behind. It was almost musical to me now, before it had been oppressive. It was a freedom I owed to my dearest Bezalel. He wasn’t near me now, I didn’t think at least, sometimes it was hard to tell. Though I felt safe without him now, he had made sure of that.

I was on my way to see the nosferatu primogen of the City, Nazuul. Nazuul and I weren’t exactly friends, but I had scratched his back enough to overcome the inherent xenophobia most of his clan suffered through. Unfortunately, they were also the only vampire clan to proudly live in the sewers and frankly, “It’s fucking filthy in there!” I stamped my feet one last time staring at the man-hole cover that signaled the start of my slow descent to meet with Nazuul. “Damn it all... “ I made one last protest before ruining my new boots, and starting down the ladder.

“Integra! My dear friend.” Nazuul’s voice practically grated against my ears and I hoped my face mask covered the look of disgust I couldn’t quite hide. I raised a hand to signal I had heard him, and started across the bar. Some of his ilk were in various stages of eating rats, and some of the rare wealthy Nosferatu even had blood-bags they luxuriously sipped on. There was nothing for me to order here, so I produced a bottle of water which I took a moment to transmute into bourbon. The shadows flared ever so slightly, signaling Bezalel had indeed rejoined me at some point, and the liquid turned the light brown of bourbon. I took a long pull as Nazuul explained. “It’s a simple enough job, you do me this favor and I tell you where the girl’s gone.” The damned leech was always making me jump through hoops.

“Nazuul, Nazuul… let’s not forget who I am just now. I could have this place collapsed in seconds, leaving only your clan to suffer. Surely you can give me this tip gratis?” I didn’t quite boast, it was the truth after all, but I probably couldn’t afford to attract that much attention to myself. The bastard just laughed, “That’s a gamble I’ll take,” before slurping another rat dry in a clean second. I loved to hate the dirty Nosferatu. “Deal, I’ll be back in a fortnight, you better have information that’s accurate, TO THE HOUR. Got it?”

The child of Caine simply raised its clawed hands, pantomiming defeat. “Of course, of course. Wouldn’t want to raise the ire of your bleeding heart, now would I?” The last part of his sentence was cut off as I shunted myself along Quasi-real shadowstuff. The process was wildly inaccurate so I didn’t do it into the sewers, but anything to get myself out of that place. I took another long pull from the plastic bottle of bourbon, and started heading Downtown, to play the game of politics I hated so much.

Los Angeles had been settled by the Tongva Natives many years before the Spanish arrived. Though they lost the land to them eventually, and now it was a sprawling metropolis that proclaimed humanity gives no fucks. I sort of liked that about the city. So there I was; Skid row in the city of Angels hunting a devil wearing the guise of a human. I mean a literal devil that had been shapeshifting into humans to eat and harass the city-goers. The activity had the city's police on alert which was causing more and more children of Caine to break the Masquerade accidentally as they were now being flagged for things they had taken for granted.

"Such as seducing a young girl down a dark alley!" I called out to a couple making out in a thin alley that barely existed between too building. I could practically smell the fetid leech from here, courtesy of my magically enhanced senses. "Imagine how easy it'd be to accidentally become Mellow John's next victim. Or mistaken as one and have your lover shown True Death" The leech looked at me dumbfounded as i strolled past. I could hear him asking his current victim if she'd prefer to go back to his place as I continued past.

John earned the moniker, Mellow, due to never changing emotions no matter where or how you found him. People who survived his gory attempts on their life relayed that he just kept up that same lazy smile all the while violently tearing into them with his claws, never targeting vitals. He'd even just shrugged off rifle rounds while staring with that dull look of joy. He likes to make it last, I can respect that. Bezalel taunted me, knowing full well I had concerns about him trying to stop me from finding this thing. "No I have my worries, these wounds don't look like claws caused them, and the Primogen labeled it 'a Devil,' what does that even mean? They have no clue what's going on in this city." It was getting colder as the night continued and my breath formed condensation as I talked to me, myself, and Bezalel.

It was my fourth night at this and so far I had only stopped a mugging, committed a mugging, and wasted four nights chasing a snipe. I looked at the gun I had taken from those three punks swaggering about looking to rob someone for a few seconds. I should toss this, I thought as I pocketed the .45 the boys must have only recently got.

It was almost morning when I found Mellow John. Still that fourth night, I had a chai tea latte in my hand and was sipping on the still too hot beverage when I heard someone screaming like they were being, well, murdered. "That's my cue." I said, throwing the entire cup into the nearby waste bin. I pulled down my mask and re-oriented my hood to hide my face and sprinted towards the noise; my shadow trembling with excitement as it felt me drawing together my power. I swear if Nazuul is playing me on this I am cleansing his entire clan from this Earth.