79

Images of forbidden libraries and musty tomes float before you. Many of the Kindred around you had spent lifetimes accumulating knowledge, and it was available for the taking. Some of it, at least.

The moon rises as you slumber.

A New Night Dawns

Streetlights bathe shop fronts in bright pools while the occasional passing car barrels through runoff from recently melted snow, dashing it onto the closest part of the sidewalk. You move inward, toward the shops. Drivers tend to speed more in the early morning hours when there's less traffic on the road; they'll get slower and the traffic busier when the sun threatens to rise and the workday begins. Your scarf is wrapped tightly around your face to hide yourself from the mortals, but even then they still don't come anywhere near you. Fortunately, there aren't many on the street tonight. The exhibition hall isn't far from your haven and you believe the walk will do you good—give you time to clear your head. Unfortunately, you've barely had time to reflect on recent happenings when a man in a heavy coat moves to pass you on the left and you feel something poking you in the ribs.

"Turn right at the next crossing," he grunts. You look down. He's got something in his right hand, held underneath his coat and pointed at you. Of all the times to leave your weapon at home…it's been years since you carried it regularly, at least until the Blood Hunt. You'll have to remedy that, although you have no idea where you'd hide a handgun in a fitted suit. You're no easy meat, though. No vampire is. Your assailant's face is vaguely familiar and it takes you a moment to place it before you recognize the Feral that Qui captured during your raid. You've heard that his adopted name is "Hauberk." Maybe you shouldn't have let him go in the alley. Then again, he probably would have been caught by Ward regardless. You'd been sure the Gangrel was scared for his life, but maybe both of you had overestimated the Brujah's bloodlust.

You have no idea what the Feral's motivations might be. Is he bringing you to Ward? Or maybe he just wants to lure you into a dark alley to dispatch you. Either way, you'll need to make a decision.

You draw power from the Blood surging within your body and feel strength flood through your limbs. You lash out quickly and without mercy, smashing the Gangrel's skull with one fist while tearing the gun away from him with the other. Further down the street a pedestrian screams, and you curse as Hauberk's fingernails begin to grow in length to unnatural proportions. You've heard of the Ferals' ability to grow deadly claws before, but you've never seen it in action. Fortunately for you, he decides better of it and starts to limp away on all fours. A coward, then. Good to know.

A crowd is gathering. Any display of your supernatural prowess at this point would be risky. Violating the Masquerade by showing off your powers in public could lead to an almost immediate call for your destruction regardless of reasoning or right to self-defense. You try to act casually, walking—not running—away from the scene. Once you're out of sight of any witnesses, you immediately disappear into one of the few stores still open and pretend to browse for several minutes before re-emerging into the street. Luckily, the crowd has dispersed.

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