Vampire The Requiem ed 3 - Circle Of The Crone.pdf
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TAKE
by Greg Stolze
I should have insisted on driving though, crap, the guy beside me might
have popped the springs in my Infiniti. He’s giant, a monster, just impos-
sibly huge. His name’s Earth Baines, he’s honky like Loop gridlock and I
suspect every night he prays to God that the next time he wakes
up, he’ll be Jay-Z.
Fat chance of God answering that one. Not only is Earth a murderous
vampire, God doesn’t exist. At least not one Baines would pray to.
“You bettah nevah lemme gitcha alone!” Cypress Hill is blaring from the
stereo and he’s rapping right along. “Y’might die inna valley a’ chrome!”
For a moment I think he said “Crone” and it makes me nervous, but I
shouldn’t be. The Crone’s on my side right? That would be a lot more
soothing if she wasn’t known for teaching best through pain.
It’s two AM and Baines and I are going to go kill a vampire I call
Dickhole #1.
# # #
I heard about the Crone from Bella Dravnzie, but I learned about
her from Moyra. Bella talks a good game, but in the end she’s all games
and talk. Moyra showed me what’s real.
Moyra’s a vampire. So’s Bella. So am I, but I didn’t really get it, didn’t
understand what that meant until Moyra took me under the knife and
the moon, rinsed my eyes with blood and let me feel it. Bella made
me a part of the Circle of the Crone but Moyra it a part of me.
She pushes me, Moyra does. Tells me I need to go deeper, look in the
dark places and see what I really am. She pushed me to join, pushed
me to leave the Chorus, pushed me to open up my blood to the world
and make changes.
Moyra pushes me, but I don’t mind it. It’s odd, now that I think of it. All
my life, anyone who pushed me – teachers, my parents, my social worker,
my parole officer – didn’t matter who, I resisted. I’m not proud of that
anymore. Half the time they were talking sense while I told them
to go screw. Maybe if I’d listened, I wouldn’t be like this. Or maybe I
would. Vampires are practically my family of origin, turns out.
Besides, look at Baines. He grew up on a farm, wholesome as whole-grain
bread, and he’s an ass-kicker, blood-licker, stake-sticker just like me.
“You’re a stank-ass ho,” he sings as he parks his Escalade. Maybe not exactly
like me. “’Cause you got no soul… yo, this is it, right?”
“This is it.”
Moyra was the second one to call me “Loki.”
# # #
There were four of them. Dickholes #3 and #4 held my arms while Dick-
hole #2 kicked me. Legs and groin, mostly – I was already gasping from
a kidney punch and he was probably worried I’d puke on his leathers if he
worked the torso too hard. I was still living, then.
“That’s enough,” Dickhole #1 had said. He was the boss, it was obvious, his
jacket was the coolest. “You’re Jake Fischer’s boy, ain’tcha?”
I didn’t say. Partly I was stubborn. Partly, I was hyperventilating and in
serious pain. I’d like to think I was worried about Amy, too. As I remember it, I
was worried sick, wondering why she didn’t run. He’d told her to stay put and
she stayed. I figured she was too terrified to bolt. Now I know better.
“You look like a scrawny punk-rock version of him,” he said. “I’ma do you a
favor – help you understand your ol’ man a little, see where he’s coming
from. You tell him I did this for you, right?”
Then he bit me. I went limp, and everything I’d never wanted to believe
about God and sin and redemption – finally, I could say with confidence
that it was all a crock. Everything real was false next to that feeling.
It’s called the Kiss, all vampires can do it and most don’t even think it’s
a big deal. It is though.
Besides, look at Baines. He grew up on a farm, wholesome as whole-grain
s an ass-kicker, blood-licker, stake-sticker just like me.
he sings as he parks his Escalade. Maybe not exactly
There were four of them. Dickholes #3 and #4 held my arms while Dick-
I was already gasping from
d puke on his leathers if he
Dickhole #1 had said. He was the boss, it was obvious, his
t say. Partly I was stubborn. Partly, I was hyperventilating and in
d like to think I was worried about Amy, too. As I remember it, I
d told her to stay put and
ma do you a
s coming
d never wanted to believe
finally, I could say with confidence
that it was all a crock. Everything real was false next to that feeling.
s
# # #
Dickhole #1’s haven isn’t much. It’s the basement apartment of a three-
flat, and the people who live above him (they’re people, I checked) are
at a ball game tonight. They “won” Sox tickets, I had to spend serious coin
but no one is turning down a skybox after the big win in ’05.
“What’s the plan, yo?”
“Me in front, you in back. Usual thing. I’ll get in his face, you just make
sure he doesn’t get away.”
“I’m your back door man.” Baines says it before he can realize he’s quoting
the Doors instead of Public Enemy. I guess you can’t escape your heri-
tage, especially when it’s classic-rock Midwest radio wasteland. Or the
Kindred moral wasteland, I suppose.
He’s taking it well though. I blackmailed him into making Dickhole #1 take
it, so letting him drive is the least I could do.
s the basement apartment of a three-
re people, I checked) are
Sox tickets, I had to spend serious coin
ll get in his face, you just make
s quoting
t escape your heri-
s classic-rock Midwest radio wasteland. Or the
s taking it well though. I blackmailed him into making Dickhole #1 take
finally, I could say with confidence
that it was all a crock. Everything real was false next to that feeling.
finally, I could say with confidence
(Baines got really high and let it slip that he’d been sheltering a fu-
gitive from Prince Maxwell’s justice. He didn’t say it but I figured
it out and, once I’d done that, it wasn’t hard to get proof. Baines is the
beater, where I’m more of a spy. We make an okay team, which is why we work
as law enforcement for Prince Maxwell, which makes Baines’ betrayal of
principle doubly stupid. If you don’t know who Prince Maxwell is, I’ll just
say that if Mayor Daley masturbates, he probably fantasizes about the kind
of total political control Maxwell’s got.)
We slide over to the side of the house and I kneel down, biting my own
wrist. Biting myself until I bled used to be creepy. Now it’s business
as usual, I wash my hands with blood, like it’s water and I just peed. (I get
nostalgic for peeing. Is that weird?)
Left hand to the wall, right hand to my right eye and I mutter an invo-
cation to the Pythian Oracle. Then I put my eye to the handprint and see
right through it.
Or at least, I’m supposed to. What I actually see is bloodstained brick.
Dammit. Cruac is hard.
I open my other senses instead and through the brick I can hear, very softly,
a television set. Sounds like the theme to Green Acres.
“You see ‘im?” Baines looks uncomfortable – not at the blood, he didn’t
even register when I did that, but the idea of sorcery makes him jumpy.
Should I lie to him? Nah, real caution kicks false confidence in the ass.
“I don’t see him but the TV’s on. Stick with the plan.”
“You’re the boss.”
I’ve got a short-handled ten-pound maul. If I can break a few leg bones he
won’t run, until he uses blood to heal, which will leave him less to fight
with… but I shouldn’t be anticipating this, you never can. The sledge-
hammer gets me through the door.
I’ve spent the last year chasing this guy, chipping away at his finances,
alienating him from his allies, busting up his feed herds. I’m the Prince’s
man, he’s a lowly Unbound and now it’s payback time.
# # #
“I think if I could understand the Kiss, I’d understand everything.” That
was the first thing I ever said to the leader of my covenant, the first
time we met. I was still in Chorus and Moyra was trying to convince Rowen,
the big bad Hierophant, that I was worth something.
Moyra introduced us and Rowen said, “Tell me something wise.”
The thing to understand about Rowen is, she can say stuff like that. I
didn’t even think of being a smartass. Part of it was, we were in a sacred
grove, under the moonlight, and it was very atmospheric. Partly, I’d heard
(Baines got really high and let it slip that he’
(Baines got really high and let it slip that he d been sheltering a fu-
(Baines got really high and let it slip that he
gitive from Prince Maxwell
(Baines got really high and let it slip that he
’s justice. He didn’t say it but I figured
it out and, once I’d done that, it wasn
’d done that, it wasn
’ ’t hard to get proof. Baines is the
beater, where I’m more of a spy. We make an okay team, which is why we work
as law enforcement for Prince Maxwell, which makes Baines’ betrayal of
principle doubly stupid. If you don’t know who Prince Maxwell is, I’ll just
say that if Mayor Daley masturbates, he probably fantasizes about the kind
of total political control Maxwell’s got.)
We slide over to the side of the house and I kneel down, biting my own
wrist. Biting myself until I bled used to be creepy. Now it’
wrist. Biting myself until I bled used to be creepy. Now it’
wrist. Biting myself until I bled used to be creepy. Now it s business
as usual, I wash my hands with blood, like it’
as usual, I wash my hands with blood, like it’
as usual, I wash my hands with blood, like it s water and I just peed. (I get
nostalgic for peeing. Is that weird?)
Left hand to the wall, right hand to my right eye and I mutter an invo-
cation to the Pythian Oracle. Then I put my eye to the handprint and see
right through it.
Or at least, I’m supposed to. What I actually see is bloodstained brick.
Dammit. Cruac is hard.
I open my other senses instead and through the brick I can hear, very softly,
a television set. Sounds like the theme to Green Acres.
“You see ‘im?” Baines looks uncomfortable – not at the blood, he didn’t
even register when I did that, but the idea of sorcery makes him jumpy.
Should I lie to him? Nah, real caution kicks false confidence in the ass.
“I don’t see him but the TV’
t see him but the TV’
t see him but the TV s on. Stick with the plan.”
“You’re the boss.”
I’ve got a short-handled ten-pound maul. If I can break a few leg bones he
won’t run, until he uses blood to heal, which will leave him less to fight
with… but I shouldn’t be anticipating this, you never can. The sledge-
hammer gets me through the door.
I’ve spent the last year chasing this guy, chipping away at his finances,
alienating him from his allies, busting up his feed herds. I’m the Prince’
m the Prince’
m the Prince s
man, he’
man, he s a lowly Unbound and now it’
s a lowly Unbound and now it’
s a lowly Unbound and now it s payback time.
# # #
’ ” That
was the first thing I ever said to the leader of my covenant, the first
’d understand everything.
d understand everything.
was the first thing I ever said to the leader of my covenant, the first
d understand everything.
time we met. I was still in Chorus and Moyra was trying to convince Rowen,
the big bad Hierophant, that I was worth something.
Moyra introduced us and Rowen said, “Tell me something wise.”
The thing to understand about Rowen is, she can say stuff like that. I
didn’t even think of being a smartass. Part of it was, we were in a sacred
The thing to understand about Rowen is, she can say stuff like that. I
t even think of being a smartass. Part of it was, we were in a sacred
The thing to understand about Rowen is, she can say stuff like that. I
grove, under the moonlight, and it was very atmospheric. Partly, I’d heard
’
(Baines got really high and let it slip that he’
’d been sheltering a fu-
’
gitive from Prince Maxwell
I open my other senses instead and through the brick I can hear, very softly,
a television set. Sounds like the theme to Green Acres.
I open my other senses instead and through the brick I can hear, very softly,
You see
even register when I did that, but the idea of sorcery makes him jumpy.
You see
man, he’
“I think if I could understand the Kiss, I’d understand everything.
was the first thing I ever said to the leader of my covenant, the first
time we met. I was still in Chorus and Moyra was trying to convince Rowen,
was the first thing I ever said to the leader of my covenant, the first
this woman could turn into a bear, see the future, sing dead gods out
of the underworld. More though, she’s just that way. She sucks the
dumb jokes right out of your brain.
Rowen was the first one to call me “Loki” and teach me the myths, about how
Loki defended the gods through cunning but doomed them as well. She en-
couraged me to get in with the court, which surprised everyone, I think.
“I know what you’re planning and it’s too soon,” she told me. That time, she
told me. “You have a gift you don’t understand. You are a child in this
night, and after childhood’s end you can’t be innocent again.”
“I’m not planning anything,” I said, and I was thinking that being a ‘baby vam-
pire’ isn’t a gift, it’s suck, you can’t do anything right, you don’t know any-
thing, you’re scared of everyone else but most afraid of yourself.
“You’re planning to take a life.” That got my attention, because I was. I’d
tracked down Dickhole #3, a mortal man. I planned on using him to find the
rest of that bunch, then do him. Nothing I could have even thought about
seriously when I was alive, but once the black thirst is installed that
kind of plan comes pretty easy. “It’s a threshold. Once you walk through
that door it locks behind you. Killing a man, or a vampire, or any beast, is a
boon to those who are ready, and a tragedy for those who are not.”
“How do I know if I am?”
“I’ll tell you,” she said, and there was not one eyeblink, one twitch, one
anything to show that she was not 100% serious.
I did it anyway, of course, I killed Dickhole #3 and #4 too. I just missed
Dickhole #2, who was a vampire, but I chased him out of town and that’s
probably a death sentence. Probably.
I killed Dickhole #3 before I was even a Hound, and I covered it up
real well, I thought. Rowen knew right away. “You have squandered your
one chance to understand innocence,” she told me. “You have rushed
into a stage too quickly. Let us hope you spend your time as an Outsider
more wisely.”
That was the night she called me Loki.
# # #
I’m through the door to Dickhole #1’s apartment and he twitches to his
feet as I throw the hammer right at the center of his chest. If that
knocks him down while I draw the knife…
But no, he’s too damn fast and then he’s holding something, like a book or
a lunchbox, he swings it on the end of a cable and I realize it’s a power
sander right before it slams into the side of my head. I fumble out my
blade but he swings into my hand, the cord tangles and then knife and
tool both skitter away as he jumps on my chest.
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