16

"But we can't let them get away…" Lucca mutters stubbornly.

"It's too late for that," you say, pulling her by the arm to get her moving. "The whole mission's blown, and there's no way anyone's going to view it as your fault. Let's not complicate matters by messing things up even more."

"Getting caught in the middle of this bloodbath," she replies solemnly. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry; just let's get moving, okay?"

Next

You navigate the crumbled walls and beams, exhaling a sigh of relief when you finally exit the factory. Qui and Jordan are arguing over a kneeling prisoner who's badly wounded and bound tightly. Behind them, you see Bouchard and the others. Many are singed or limping, but none seem to have met final death.

Qui gives you an appraising look. "It looks like you're tougher than I thought, Mekuztli. Ward hit you like a damned truck."

"It's good to see you too, Sheriff."

Next

Qui pushes the prisoner to get him moving. The Feral looks none too pleased, but he follows his instructions. For now.

"We need to go," the Sheriff says, his calm cracking under pressure as he looks about furtively. "Eden can only keep the police away for so long. If we get caught, we'll be wishing that maniac had finished us off in the warehouse."

Your exhausted party picks themselves up and limps toward the bridge leading back into Ottawa, your pace speeding up when sirens blare from the north, over the border in Gatineau. Bouchard nearly topples over as he lurches into a run, and two of his mercenaries lean down to help him up.

Lucca looks over her shoulder, face painted with worry. "Corliss doesn't have the reach that the Prince did across the river," she says as you arrive at the edge of the construction site. "If Arundel really was Beckoned, we have a lot of slack to pick up. It's a good thing Corliss brought me back here when she did." She edges into a full run as the police sirens grow closer.

"It's too early to make assumptions," you grunt, your foot almost catching on a metal support bar as you cross the bridge at a run. "We already have enough trouble with the Anarchs."

Rarely is the weight of power more keenly felt than in the event of its sudden absence. The bedrock of Ottawa's Camarilla society had been patiently chipped away by a hundred knives, each skillfully wielded by those Kindred whose day-spawned dreams bloomed ripe with a hunger for ascension, eternally waiting just out of reach. But they could wait. Un-death, after all, conferred a distinct advantage over the fleeting ambitions of humanity. And now, it seemed, their long nights of plotting were about to pay off.

Four nights ago, Ottawa's Prince had simply disappeared, abandoning engagements which he had always routinely met with extreme punctuality. What was first seen as an unusual political slight became a concern on the second night of missed appearances, and by the third and fourth, unrest within the community was all but inevitable. As the Prince's Seneschal, your sire Eden Corliss now faces the full weight of responsibility, and powerful Kindred have already expressed doubts about her ability to handle the pressure, even before Arundel's vanishing act. Of course, if she manages to impress them, she may rise to the office of Prince herself—despite what some might think, the title has always been gender-neutral.

A Quick Dash To Safety