Chapter 12: Madhouse 3-3

"Your city?" A muffled voice asked incredulously. "Last time I checked, it was called 'Santa Monica', not 'Stuck-up Bitch'!"

A gasp. "So vulgar!" The voice chided, as if she'd said the worst thing ever. "I can't even look at you sometimes, you Jezebel!"

"Oh Therese, you really do paint a flattering picture of me with your turn-of-the century barbs." The other voice remarked snidely. Jeanette, I assumed. "I always assumed you could do nothing but look down on me."

"Just the sight of you!" Barked the other voice, Therese. "The sight of that wicked, tainted pout concealing that dirty, diseased mind! Sin! You have no shame!"

An amused chuckle came from Jeanette. "Let she who is without sin cast the fierce tone! Go ahead and mock me. You pull your pranks, make fun of my ways. It suits you!"

"You're just one big joke." Therese said, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Don't you call me that!" Jeanette protested.

"Oh? Should I start calling a duck a pig as well?" Therese shot.

"I'm your sister!" Jeanette whined, suddenly on the verge of crying judging by the sound of her voice. "How can you treat me like this?!"

Then came the sound of a door slamming.

"That's it, Jeanette. Run away from the truth. I'll take care of everything as always." Therese said, and I could just hear the smirk in her voice.

That didn't sound good. Not only am I getting involved in a feud between two vampires, but I was also getting involved in a sibling spat? Hopefully all of the drama will be worth it. I reminded myself that LaCroix wasn't exactly asking me when he told me to go to Santa Monica. If this was my trial, I hoped I'd have more than proven myself at the end of it and I wouldn't be running errands or involving myself in petty undead drama.

FInished with eavesdropping, I gathered my courage and walked through the door. It was clear they shared a room as soon as I went in. One side was an office space, complete with a desk and a computer, and the other side looked more like a hotel room, complete with a large, heart-shaped bed with red blankets and pink sheets. By the door I walked through, there was a massive mural with a painting of two little girls, both identical, and an older man with them. Was that their father?

"Please, come in." A woman said, greeting me at the door. She looked exactly like Jeanette, so much that they could be twins. But at the same time, she didn't. If Jeanette was hot and wild, she was cold and tame. As opposed to Jeanette's naughty schoolgirl getup, the woman in front of me wore a black blazer with a pencil skirt and pantyhose. She wore square-rimmed glasses that covered her eyes, which were the same as Jeanette's - one green, one blue. Her blonde hair was done up in a neat ponytail, making her look more mature and refined, over all.

"Thank you." I said.

"I do apologize for my sister's crassness if it made you uncomfortable." She said politely. "She's unabashedly scandalous, but… in the club business, I suppose that kind of personality is a necessary evil."

I nodded. She had a point. Personally, I couldn't think of a single club owner I'd met that wasn't scandalous. "Jeanette? Thank you, but she was no trouble."

"Nonsense." The woman said quickly, dismissively. "She's nothing but."

My lips pressed into a thin line. "Well, you do seem a lot more...together."

"That, I am. My sister's schoolgirl-in-distress act may bring patrons in, but it's my level-headedness that keeps it open."

"You're Therese, I presume?"

"Therese Voerman, yes." She confirmed. "I am the proprietor of this club, and the only person in this city whose good side it's in your best interest to stay on. What brings you to Santa Monica?"

A subtle threat. Nice. In a way, she reminded me of LaCroix. She had that same noble, high-and-mighty air about her that I couldn't quite say I liked very much. But what she said was true enough. If I pissed her off, I doubt she'd even consider calling off her feud with Tung.

"I need you to call off the feud with Bertram Tung." I said. "I need his help with something."

"Tung's exile is self-imposed, I assure you." She told me. "But then, what reason would I have not to hate that loathsome Nosferatu scoundrel? Bloody Nosferatu. They're so...unclean."

I tilted my head. That was a new word.

"Nosferatu?" I asked.

"Ah, right." Therese said. "You must be the neonate that LaCroix freed. It explains you not knowing of the clans. We Kindred are divided into clans. The Nosferatu are one of them and, unfortunately, one of the more common ones. We all have a curse related to our clan. The Nosferatu? Their clan is that they're hideous...filthy. And because they are so tainted, they primarily crawled around in the sewers."

That made me shudder. As if I wasn't afraid of sewers enough.

"Why do you hate him?" I asked.

"He meddles in my affairs. He's a bad influence on my sister, and she on him." Therese said. "If you were in my place, would you let him compromise your authority? You most certainly would not. I'd quite like it if I never had to hear that name again.'

This was a bit more complicated than I thought. The utter conviction that Therese spoke with gave me the hint that she was one of those people that never changed their mind. Furthermore, I was in no position to advocate for some guy I didn't know.

"Then can you put out the word that you've got no feud with him?" I probed.

"And why would I do that?" Therese asked, her tone quizzical. "Let him think I mean to kill him - that way, I don't have to worry about him sabotaging everything. Do you realize how his subterfuge makes me look to the Camarilla?"

"That's unfortunate, but I need to see him." I said.

"Tung and his co-conspirators' actions ruined my chance at partnership in a crucial piece of property. I do have several other promising ventures, and one in particular has been, to say the least, an ordeal."

For a moment, I wondered why she was telling me this. Then I realized she was giving me an in.

"Go on." I said.

"I'd be willing to put a word out that my grievances with Tung have been swept under the rug…" She continued. "But in return, you'll have to remove a particularly burdensome spirit from a property I'm looking to invest in."

My eyes nearly bulged out of my skull. Did she say spirit?

"A spirit?" I asked, my tone coming across as a little more nervous than I'd have liked. "You mean a ghost?"

"I forget that you're new to this." Therese remarked. "Allow me to break you in - yes, ghosts exist. Werewolves, mummies, and I'd expect a whole lot of other things I've never seen share the night with us."

I gulped. Werewolves? Mummies? I was hoping that feeling in my stomach wasn't actually it doing a gymnastics routine. This was all becoming too much. There was already a lot to learn about vampires alone, now I was living in a world with werewolves, mummies, and ghosts too? Ghosts? And I was going to meet one? I could barely survive a fight with another vampire! But it seemed this was my only in. Therese was giving me an opportunity, and I'd figured I better not squander it.

"Okay, I'll do it." I said hesitantly. "What do I have to do to get rid of the ghost?"

"Rumor is that the personal item of a ghost may be used to draw it out or excise it from its haunt." She said. "While I don't put a lot of stock in hearsay, it's my last option. So I want you to go to the Ocean House hotel, find an item of the spirit's, and bring it back."

The Ocean House hotel? I heard rumors that the place was haunted, but I'd never listened to them. Until now, I didn't even believe in ghosts. Now I had to go and face one, steal something that it owned, and...it might not even work. It might just piss it off even more.

"I'll do it, but you have to promise to call off the feud." I told her.

"Oh, I fully intend to do so. You'll find that dealing with me, on the whole, is appreciably more predictable than dealing with some of the egomaniacs that are my peers." She said. "As long as our business doesn't go sour, my word is gold."

I could appreciate that. She was something of a noble demon, which I imagined was an advantage when you were a figure of authority like she was. She may have given off a real "cold bitch" aura, but at least she was trustworthy. Another bonus of this job was that I wouldn't be killing anyone.

"I can respect that. And I appreciate it." I said.

"Before I forget, take this." She handed me a key. "The only way to get to the Ocean House this time of night is through a tunnel in the sewers. You'll need that key to open the gate for that tunnel."

"The sewers?" I suppressed the urge to sigh. "Alright...if that's what it takes."

Therese walked behind her desk, sitting down on her chair.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few things to set straight." She said.

I nodded and turned to walk out of the door. Before I left, however, I looked back at her.

"I had a question." I said.

She looked up at me, her expression unreadable.

"You said that we're all divided into clans... " I began. "Bertram is Nosferatu, I guess I'm Tremere...what clan are you?"

Her eyes went from me to her computer, her expression still unreadable. As the artificial light from the computer shone onto her face, she looked more like Jeannette than ever.

"A word of advice, Kindred." She said, her voice a low monotone. "Ask questions that you'll get answers to."

I wasn't going to enter a haunted hotel without being prepared. Hell, I didn't want to enter a haunted hotel at all. Needless to say, the fight with the Asian vampire had taught me that I needed to be prepared. Since using my vampiric abilities drained my blood supply within, I knew that I wouldn't always be able to fall back on them. What if I encountered a vampire that could perfectly counter my abilities, or one that was tougher than the vampires I've fought thus far? I realized now that the goal was to survive. And to do that, I needed to make sure I could survive a fight.

Entering the Pawn Shop down the street from my apartment building, I entered and passed through the chain-linked gate that separated the door from the area where the merchandise is. The man on the other side of the bulletproof glass was so pale, I thought he might be another vampire for a second. His hair was flat and asphalt dark, and he had beady, brown eyes. He was very clearly a drug addict.

"Uh. He-hey…" He stammered once I entered.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Uh, how's it goin'?" He managed. "You, um, lookin' to buy or sell or…?"

"Buy." I said. "What's your name?"

"They call me Trip. I own the shop."

I nodded as I browsed through what he had. I saw a combat knife in one of the glass cases. It wasn't much, but it could sure as hell do more damage than my pocket knife.

"So uh…" Trip asked. "You new to Santa Monica?"

"In a way." I said idly as I browsed the other items. Most of them were things I had no interest in, or weren't suitable for combat. "Is it that obvious?"

Trip made a tsk noise. "It's not a big surprise. We get new faces through here night after night. Used to be more tourists but now… I dunno, man… it's more like drifters."

"Do new people scare you?" I asked, glancing at him. "Heard on the news that there's a serial killer running around."

"Yeah, it's freaking me out, to be honest." Trip agreed. "I'm open all night and Santa Monica police don't rank amongst the nation's most worthy."

That made me snort.

"What, are the killings happening around here?" I asked.

Trip all but shrank in place. "Ohh. I dunno. I heard earlier someone at the pier got ripped up like that poor bastard in Long Beach the other day."

I raised my eyebrows. "No way."

"I'll tell ya," Trip began. "Crazy stuff happens all the time and it's like we just get used to it; just go on our way, 'doot-dee-do'... But this… I dunno, these killings are chilling."

"Yeah, you can say that again." I agreed. "Hey Trip...do you sell weapons around here?"

Trip's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "N-No! Why would I...no, man. That shit's illegal."

I shot him a look. "You didn't even sound like you believed that."

The Pawnshop owner cast paranoid glances all around, then he relented.

"Okay, fine." He said. "I sell weapons. But it isn't cheap, dude. It's going to cost ya. Here's what's in the inventory…"

He pulled out a drawer and took out quite the selection of guns, followed by holsters for all of them. What caught my attention were the sawed-off shotgun and the GLOCK. The pistol would be good for humans, and the sawed-off would be pretty good against vampires. With those and the combat knife, I felt I'd be pretty well-armed against most threats I encountered.

"The shotgun, the pistol, and the knife...about twenty rounds each. How much will that cost?" I asked.

"One thousand." Trip said.

I flinched. I only had $200.

"Any way I can get a discount?" I asked.

Trip rubbed his chin, narrowing his eyes. "Well...maybe. I knew a pretty cool guy, bought weapons from here. His name's Carson, but he went missing."

Great. More errands for people.

"Okay." I said. "I'm guessing you want me to look for him?"

Trip nodded. "Yeah, dude. I'd do it myself, but I'm asleep during the day, and at night I'm stuck in here. He's a bounty hunter, works for Kilpatrick's Bail Bonds across the street. If you go over there, I'm sure he'll be able to tell you where he went."

I looked at the weapons. Was this really something I should be getting involved with? Could guns even hurt ghosts anyway? I assumed not, but it was still worthwhile to be better armed. Besides, looking for a missing bounty hunter sounded much better than stealing a ghost's personal belongings. Therese didn't give me a time limit, and she didn't intend on killing Tung, so it seemed I had a little leeway.

"Alright, I'll do it." I decided. "If I do, you gotta sell everything I just asked about for $150."

Trip crossed his arms. "$200."

Nodding begrudgingly, I said, "Fine. Deal."

I left the Pawn Shop and walked across the street to Kilpatrick's Bail Bonds. I entered and watched as the pale, chubby face of Arthur Kilpatrick himself looked back at me. Finding a missing bounty hunter at midnight? What could possibly go wrong?