#emem louis

[tslurparadise]

[thornb4ck]

i miss playing swansong for the first time :(

[mejev]

finally, three of them 🌹🩸

swansong is awesome, please play it

[inquisitor-of-hearts]

Escalate (3)

After some consideration Galeb decides to not follow the Beckoning. Hazel is quick to act and entrusts him with a new task for the Camarilla.

Spoilers for all of Vampire the Masquerade: Swansong.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,631

Link to Chapter 1 Chapter 2

on Ao3

Can't you feel Electricity It's dripping through my veins The syzygy It's twisting me endlessly, endlessly

Like you don't know what they said a couple of nights ago But you didn't hear that one

Galeb was ravenous. Although his skin colour had faded to grey the moment he had walked the secretary back inside the club, the whole act had pushed him to his limits.

As he looked at the woman seated next to him, it hit him suddenly. He felt it in his whole being. It was his Ventrue nature that was making him so tense around her, giving him these visceral reactions. He craved her blood; the purity, the class. And the fact that he could not have it only intensified his desire.

“The usual?” Emem asked with a cocky grin as she stepped closer to them.

“Yes. And a gin and tonic for her.” he answered.

As Emem was about to turn around, Galeb rose from his seat.

“I must excuse myself, Cyrene.” he said, “I will be back momentarily.”

Emem turned back towards Galeb, he overcame the distance between them.

“I need a real drink” he spoke through clenched teeth. Drained of vitae, the beast in him had become far too impatient.

“Did you not eat before coming here?”

“I did” he hissed, “I didn’t think it would take that much convincing.”

“Well I don’t have anything for you. Go and serve yourself.” Emem hissed back. “Be careful with what you pick though.”

Without another word he disappeared into the darker corners of the club. His mind was racing, consumed by the desire for only one thing. But it could not just be anyone and he had to be careful it was not a ghoul. So he lurked in the dark, watched the prey and fellow predators. His gaze wandered back and forth between people, then fell back onto Cyrene. Her blood was perfect, truly, but he could not risk it. A soft growl escaped him. His trained senses made him aware of a human not bound to anyone. A man in a business suit -- dark brown hair, swept back, an expensive silver brand watch around his wrist, the old money kind not the electronic touchscreen trash -- walked towards the restrooms. Galeb followed him at once.

A deep sigh of relief escaped him as he regained his composure and left the stall with the man behind. He centered himself as he adjusted the collar of his shirt in the washroom, making sure his clothes had not been soiled during this moment of weakness. A quick glance reassured him of the fact that the bathroom stall doors were closed and the Kindred walked off.

“I made a bit of a mess in the men’s washroom” he confessed discreetly once he had arrived back at the bar.

“Ugh” Emem rolled her eyes, “Seriously?”

“He’s alive.” he reassured her firmly, “Just some stains on the floor.”

“I’ll have someone get it.” she sighed and shook her head in disapproval.

Galeb noticed their drinks that had been served as he lowered himself onto the bar seat next to his new acquaintance.

“I’m so sorry I made you wait.” he spoke softly.

“Oh don’t worry about that at all.” Cyrene replied with a smile towards him, her demeanour friendly, less suspicious. Now it seemed like a perfectly normal thing that this man wanted to get to know her.

“I’ve been thinking” Galeb spoke, “We should spend more time with each other until you feel comfortable with me. And then you could introduce me to Mr. Hartwell.”

Cyrene set down her glass that she drank from.

“I would like that. I think that might work.” she answered. Galeb could feel that she was honest, even less careful than before. His dominance over her mind was still apparent.

“You think?” Galeb checked. “You’re not sure?”

“I don’t know. I will have to make sure he doesn’t feel suspicious about anything that you do.” she answered.

“Maybe it’s better you manage our assets. Inofficially at least.” the Kindred suggested.

“Oh I can’t do that” she laughed casually, “I’m not in that position.”

“You give yourself far too little credit, Cyrene.” Galeb spoke, his influence over her strong.

“Maybe.” she chuckled, “But I can’t be doing anything like that behind his back.”

“Do you have access to his clients’ files?”

“I do.” she responded, “In case of emergencies. Or an urgent meeting that he doesn’t agree to.”

“What about confidentiality? How much trust does he have in you?"

"A lot. I don’t want to betray him. I wouldn’t-- I can’t--” There was a certain agitation in her voice, like her own will that struggled against Galeb’s influence.

“It’s okay” he calmed her with a soft voice, his eyes flashing just for a second. “You’re safe. You are not betraying Hartwell. Everything is alright.”

She visibly calmed again, her breathing and heartbeat normalizing. The Kindred watched her fingers wrap around the glass and drink from it again. He leaned over, his body turned towards her.

“Where does he live?”

Slowly her gaze was drawn from her glass towards Galeb. A smile formed on his lips before she could even answer.

“Where do you live?”

With his head lowered Galeb returned to Hazel’s quarters.

“What is it? You don’t look like you have good news for me.” Hazel spoke, behind her was the moon shining in through the tall windows, the light being reflected on the sleek surface of her desk.

Galeb sighed, shaking his head before speaking.

“It’s not the best news. Hartwell has turned into a recluse. He doesn’t take any new clients it seems. And the secretary,  Roberts, she is very careful. I think I can gain her trust but it will take some time.”

“Unfortunate news” Hazel spoke and turned around towards the windows, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her gaze lowered. “Is that all?”

“My Prince, forgive me the suggestion, but would it not be easier to find someone else?”

“No. I want Hartwell” she insisted, “All others out there are not malleable enough. I’ve seen the prospects.”

“This will not be easy.” Galeb suggested.

“But once we have him, he is ours. We can use his paranoia against him.” Hazel explained, turning around again.

“What if we use just the secretary? She does most of his business for him these days anyway.”

“But in his name, right?”

Galeb tilted his head, watching her as she paused.

“So it will be him either way. If she has access to everything, I’m not against it.” Hazel explained, her hand outstretched in a presenting fashion, “But remember, she can’t be influenced if she is the one working with us. And Emem told me you already forced your will onto her.”

“Of course she did.” Galeb sighed and looked down for a moment.

“Her bodyguard was at her heels and she was extremely cautious. I could not let her go just like that.”

“Galeb, I’m not mad at you.” Hazel reassured gently, shaking her head. “I just want to make sure you know that going any further than that will be out of the question. Especially if you choose her as the one to work with us.”

“We will never get our hands on Hartwell.”

“You don’t know that” Hazel disagreed with her voice a tone higher, trying to persuade him. “Maybe we just have to be careful and watch Roberts and Walker for a while. Why don’t you become friends with them?”

Galeb coughed up a laugh.

“You say that like it’s so easy.”

“You’ve done it before.” Hazel reminded him. “Just go slow.”

The pressure of her gaze made the man look away.

“Have you set up another appointment with her?”

“I have. I was worried she would not let me meet her again if she wasn’t under the influence of my power.” Galeb confessed.

“Smart move. I am sure you will be able to make her trust you and then in no time, she will be introducing you to Hartwell, you will see. Or, she will the one handling our finances. Your choice.”

“Would you at least consider giving this task to somebody else? Anyone else, in fact. Emem Louis could do this easily with her connections to the--”

“No” Hazel responded firmly. “It has to be you. Emem doesn’t even come close to you in strength. You can protect these people if anything happens. Don’t you think they will be swarmed with ghouls and other agents soon enough? You can sense them. You’re the only one I can rely on for this task.”

Galeb sighed in defeat.

“I hadn’t considered that.”

“I know it’s hard for you. She’s probably all a Ventrue like you could want in a vessel.” Hazel chuckled. Galeb’s eyes widened.

“It’s not-- it’s not that. That’s not a problem at all.”

“Oh come on now. Don’t be shy about this. We’re birds of a feather, you and me.” she reaffirmed with a smile. “Go downstairs to the lounge and have a drink. Ask Sylvia for what I had them prepare for you. It will relax you. I know your type.”

Galeb stood in shock, at a loss for words but finally spoke, unable to decline.

“Thank you, my Prince.”

“And then focus. We need these people.”

“Of course, my Prince.”

The following night a black car with tinted windows was parked in front a high-rise apartment complex at 10:30 pm. The front doors of the building opened and Cyrene walked out into the night. Her steps brought her to the car, she overlooked the license plate quickly before she opened the back door from the side of the pedestrian walkway. She climbed in, greeting the man that was sitting inside with a smile.

[inquisitor-of-hearts]

Escalate (2)

After some consideration Galeb decides to not follow the Beckoning. Hazel is quick to act and entrusts him with a new task for the Camarilla.

Spoilers for all of Vampire the Masquerade: Swansong.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,946

Link to Chapter 1

on Ao3

Oh, silver lion, playing my mind Overflow, underflow, lions just everywhere

Should I just leave it alone? It wants to enter my mind

You should not come close but You never had that chance, right?

“You can call me Galeb.”

The music provided them with a certain degree of privacy but also came with a hindrance to speech. Galeb made sure his voice came out loud and clear enough.

A gesture of his hand advised them to sit and he lowered himself onto the cushioned couch as well, adjusting his perfectly fitted black suit in the process.

“In that case, I’m Cyrene Roberts. You can call me Cyrene.” she replied and sat back down across from him, just next to her dark-skinned bodyguard. She raised her hand towards him casually once he was seated as well. “This is James Walker. We work for Mr. Elias Hartwell and represent his business interests.”

“Him too?” Galeb asked, looking towards the aforementioned man in the black suit whose lips in turn curled to a short-lived smile.

“Well, no” Cyrene chuckled softly, her head tilted a little about the slip-up, “It’s mainly me who represents the official business.”

Something in Galeb stirred. The hair on his arms stood upright like that of a mortal, or of an animal, his vitae pumping blood through his veins, reminding him faintly of mortality. But it was something else. It was in her voice, a sense of innocence, purity. Something in her undivided presence stirred him as his body mimicked the one of a human, causing a visceral reaction within him in the process. It was most likely just an image in his head, a distant memory of someone from his mortal life that she reminded him of, a hint of his humanity. The modest white suit with the light blue blouse beneath reflected her demeanour, the black light in the club gave the white colour an illuminating neon effect.

A night club waiter approached their table and Galeb was thrown off guard momentarily, a double-take towards the waiter revealed his state for a split second before they were asked about their order.

Galeb watched his company, silently inviting them to speak up first.

“Gin and tonic please.” the secretary spoke.

“Same” the bodyguard answered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The waiter looked at Galeb.

“The usual” he ordered.

The waiter nodded and left at once.

“Come here a lot?” the woman asked, a slight look of surprise on her face.

“Occasionally.” Galeb answered truthfully. “A bit too gaudy for my taste.”

The woman nodded, the hint of a frown on her face.

“I was surprised your company insisted on a meeting in a night club. And at this hour.”

“We could turn this into a dinner meeting anytime.” Galeb spoke, his voice raspy, invoking a slight confused smile on the secretary’s face, distracting from the unreasonably late hour. He knew women all too well and had learned far too much in the past 300 years. Perhaps he could elicit a faint blush on her cheeks.

“I know a place. They serve an excellent medium-rare steak.” As if he remembered what that tasted like.

He watched her like a predator his prey. Indeed the smile that appeared on her lips was one of a flustered woman, although efforts were made to conceal it.

“That-- is not what I meant, Mr. Bazory.”

“Galeb.” he corrected her.

“Of course” she nodded, regaining her composure. “Galeb. No matter -- I appreciate you reached out to us. We would really like to work with you. There is just some-- let’s say precautions we have to take into account.”

“I understand, Miss -- or, Mis’ess? Roberts.” He tested the waters, kindly, softly. With curiosity. He looked at her hands, no ring in sight.

“Miss.” She answered, another confused smile on her lips paired with a frown, but she let it go. “Just Cyrene is fine.”

“Of course.”

“So, I’ve heard there is these assets you want Mr. Hartwell to manage. We would need to know the approximate volume of, well, the assets, contracts, stock portfolios, investments and the like.”

“Of course. Unfortunately I am just the middleman, so I know nothing about these things in particular, not the details anyway. But I would like Mr. Hartwell to meet with one of our people in charge.”

“That--” Cyrene broke in, “That is where my concerns come in. Mr. Hartwell has become very careful with who he lets close to him. There has been some asset managers in the financial world disappearing lately. It’s quite frightening news actually.”

“It is. Although the financial world has always been frightening in that sense.” Galeb remembered his life at sea, how ships were sunken in pursuit of gold and riches.

“That might be true.” Cyrene agreed, then looked up as the waiter returned to their table and served their drinks.

The tonic water in the cocktails the secretary and her bodyguard had ordered showed a similar neon reflection as the woman’s white suit from the effects of the black light. The drink set before Galeb appeared deep red in colour.

“Bloody Mary?” the woman asked curiously, her hand wrapping around her own glass.

“You could call it that. A special recipe, infused with only the best local organic ingredients” Galeb answered. Sometimes he had to hold back a chuckle. Organic. That was what they called it.

Swiftly and soundlessly the waiter had disappeared. The secretary raised her glass and watched the other two who followed suit. Their gazes meeting in understanding served as acknowledgment of table manners. She drank a few sips before she set the glass down on the coaster, the ice cubes falling into place soundlessly against the music of the club.

“To make it a bit more clear, Mr. Hartwell has become sort of reclusive in the past months. He needs a lot of trust to agree to meetings with new clients.”

“Understandable, given the recent events.” Galeb’s fingertip chased a condensed water drop on the outer side of the glass before he raised his gaze. “Would it be considered safe enough for him if you trusted someone and were present for that meeting?”

She met his gaze, stared right into him.

“I suppose. I am not sure. To be honest we haven’t taken any new clients in months. I have proposed some to him but he was not willing to take the risk.”

“He barely leaves his home anymore” James added casually under his breath.

“How does he manage the assets of his clients?” Galeb asked.

“Online mostly. Sometimes conference calls.” Cyrene responded, drawing an instant look of disgust from Galeb’s features. “And sometimes through me.”

James scratched his beard, itching to speak.

“He goes out at times to meet existing clients, but it’s very rare.”

“Yeah” Cyrene recalled, “He was meeting one of his clients a few weeks ago. But it is really rare. Only if his signature is required. But usually that too can be done online.”

“I suppose that makes you the executive.” Galeb concluded.

The woman shrugged and breathed out in half a chuckle.

“I suppose. In theory.” She smiled a little. “Look, Galeb, I’ll get to the point. I would like some statements of your assets first. I want to present them to Mr. Hartwell and see what he says. If you could get in touch with your people in the department that handles these things--”

“Oh, we currently don’t have any department.” he interrupted her matter-of-factly.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. But in any case, recent statements from whoever handles it right now. Anything with big numbers. Nothing confidential of course, just an overview of the approximate amount. And we also do a quick background check on the clients we work with, nothing major though. We don’t mean to invade your privacy.”

“I understand.” the Kindred reassured.

“Great. And I will talk to Mr. Hartwell when I receive the details from you.” she repeated herself, making it vaguely clear that the deal had not been sealed. Her fingers were around her glass again and she raised it and drank from it. James joined her, emptying his glass.

Galeb had been watching his half-downed drink but now his gaze was drawn towards her again.

“I suppose that concludes it.” She looked at James, then at Galeb again. “Oh--”

From her handbag she took out a small leather case and from that a paper card.

“Here is my business card by the way.”

The Kindred took it from her hands and looked at it. She gave him a second before she rose. James followed suit. Slowly Galeb looked up, patient in all the matters that she was hasty with. He took his time but rose eventually and with the business card in his left hand, he held out his right hand across the table.

Cyrene paused, her expression neutral but she reached out, touching his warm hand, a gesture of trust, a firm handshake to seal an unofficial deal. At least that was what it had always been for Galeb in the past centuries.

She let go finally, his fingers lingered, brushing against in inner side of her palm as he was deprived of her touch. Her eyes widened. James walked to the end of the table and let her who was seated behind him out.

Galeb followed them to the end of the table and Cyrene pulled out her wallet. Once more his fingers were laying on her hand; soft, warm, friendly.

“Please” he said, “Let me get it.”

“At least for James’ and my drinks” she insisted, “I didn’t mean to waste your time if this doesn’t work out.”

“Cyrene, please.” His hand ran towards her forearm, once more reassuringly. James' gaze followed him but he did not interfere. “It was my pleasure.”

A moment of hesitation.

“Alright.” she agreed and stored her wallet in her handbag again. “Thank you.”

“There is just one more favour I’d like to ask from you.”

Innocently she looked up at him.

“And that would be?”

He looked at her as if she was the only person in the world. Everything else vanished, she stared into his eyes, unable to pull away. Then his gaze lifted towards James who kept his respectful distance. Galeb took one step closer towards her, his hand raised subtly to touch her arm. He met her gaze once more before he leaned in, his own eyes flashing. His face came closer towards her face and ear but there was enough distance between them to not give a wrong impression. It was just so he could speak against the music without effort, his low voice dominant but calm.

“Have another drink with me at the bar. Right now, right here. We need to get to know each other. Just you and me. James will have to wait outside.”

Emem smirked, visibly trying to hide her amusement but unable to conceal her one-sided smile as she stood at the end of the bar counter and watched Galeb and his associate coming towards her. The woman had shooed her bodyguard away. He had resisted, visibly, with his hands raised signaling confusion, but it only had taken her a moment to convince him to give up and walk off.

Emem’s gaze lowered as she, through her curled lashes, watched the dark-skinned man walk out the doors and noticed Bazory’s hand barely hovering over the side of the woman’s waist, guiding and controlling. Involuntarily Emem shook her head, the smirk still on her lips. Oh, he was playing for keeps. Hazel must have given him quite the task for him to use that subtle trick on neutral ground.

[tslurparadise]

I wish the Emem amnesia consequence lead to Hilda doing weird abusive lesbian stuff to her. She's already a manipulator, let her grind her ex into a fine powder using a mortar and pestle.

[inquisitor-of-hearts]

Escalate (7)

After some consideration Galeb decides to not follow the Beckoning. Hazel is quick to act and entrusts him with a new task for the Camarilla.

Spoilers for all of Vampire the Masquerade: Swansong.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,747

Link to Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

on Ao3

Heavy is the head that wears the crown Handed on a plate but I love the chase

You don’t wanna dare bite the hand that feeds ya

Galeb scoffed as he recognized the woman, his feral instincts calming.

“You’re not so delirious that your senses aren’t working anymore, good.” Emem mocked, the hint of a grin on her lips.

“What are you doing here? Who sent you?” His tone was professional, although with a sense of hostility in it.

“Sent me?” She tilted her head at him. “I am a lover of the fine arts as you know. And tea ceremony is one among them. I did not take you for a connoisseur though.”

“Why hide then if you’re not here on business?”

“Is it just me or are you more tense than usual tonight?” she questioned in a teasing manner, her voice a pitch higher. “Fine, so followed you. Got curious about your retainer, but didn’t want to make it too obvious. ”

“She is not my retainer.”

“Oh. Good to know.” Emem spoke softly.

He sighed, looking away. He should have known.

“Get out of my sight, Diva.” he commanded.

“Don’t worry, I’m gone already.” she yielded, nothing but thin smoke remaining in her wake.

Galeb pushed the elevator button and waited. Internally he cursed himself. She had not been here by chance, that much was obvious. He knew the Herald, just as well as he knew the Prince. It was nothing but praise and sweet reassurance that he could take as much time as needed, but in reality they had started to doubt him, they had become impatient; so impatient they had sent someone after him to watch his every move. Trust was indeed hard to come by. He could hardly believe that the Prince had started to question his moves. But to send Emem Louis? Stepping inside the cabin, he thought about her words, how she had seen him with his guard down. He snarled in disgust while the elevator descended. She must have been in the same room with them, he realized.

At his arrival in the lobby he walked towards Cyrene who got up from her seat at once. Together with his ghoul they walked to his car. After they had dropped her off, Galeb felt weakened. Once again he felt the hunger pangs, just like after every night he spent with her.

In the wake of their farewell he arrived at a luxurious hotel downtown. He had promised the Prince to drop by at an event that was held as a second attempt of the reunification party, although on a much smaller scale. Iversen had after all secured the blood trade with the Hartford Chantry, although the trust once given had eroded and some ties had been severed. As he knew her, these days she wanted to be rather safe than sorry.

“Looks like Siaka hasn’t come.” Emem casually remarked towards Hazel as they stood at a cocktail table. Her black suit presented a sharp contrast against her fair complexion. It gave the Prince an aura of dominance and fearlessness, especially given the fact that the other women around her were clad in more vibrant colours.

“Yes, he has-- … Galeb” Hazel’s gaze was drawn to the man who had casually approached them, her tone friendly and upbeat suddenly. “I’m very glad you could make it. I was almost worried.”

“As promised, my Prince.”

“I know you would never neglect your duties.” the Prince remarked, then stretched her hand out, pointing around the place in an inviting fashion. “Please, grab a drink. Enjoy yourself.”

“I come just to oversee things, as discussed. There’s no need to accommodate me.” he reassured.

“Oh come on now” Emem, still standing next to the Prince on the other side, rolled her eyes. But she spoke no further word as Hazel’s gaze met hers for a moment. It had the power to silence, after all. The Prince turned towards Galeb again.

“I’ve already given my speech. So far everything is under control. Not all of the members of the Chantry are here.”

“Precautions I would guess.”

“I would guess so too.” Hazel spoke with a certain disappointment in her voice, just short of a sigh. “In any case, enjoy yourself.”

“Thank you, my Prince.” Galeb knew it was no opportunity to talk business, at least not about his. These parties were for show. Influence, power, connections. Sometimes gossip. Who was he trying to convince -- it always involved gossip. Exchanging secrets that later could be used for some political agenda or another. It was not his game. Not tonight at least.

“Bazory. Glad you could make it.” April spoke as she approached the three, her face not showing any hints of a smile despite her almost affectionate tone. She leaned over towards the Prince, whispering something. Hazel nodded, setting her glass down on the tall table.

“I have something to attend to, but I will surely see you around later.” she announced and walked ahead. Both pairs of heels clicked against the glazed white floor that showed faint reflections of the two women walking off, leaving Galeb and Emem behind. He shot her a glance. The corners of her mouth creased slightly, her eyebrows raised expectantly. It was the kind of gaze that told him she was ready to hear him out but would not start a conversation. The man walked off wordlessly. There was no point after all.

He detested these parties. It was always the most decadent of the most decadent, and if not on open display like the vessel that was just close to being sucked dry on a nearby couch in the corner, then it was something even worse behind closed doors. Doors he did not want to open, not even peek into. But there had often been cases when it had been his duty. Out of politeness he had taken a glass when next to the prince, but he could not stand the concoction. On top of that, the decadent display of seemingly endless blood supply. At the next table that he passed, he put the glass down again, deciding to watch the room from a darker and more quiet corner. He was hungry of course. But the display of all the excess, the vessels infused with various drugs, no doubt prepared by Richard Dunham with deliberate precision, made his stomach churn. He was a really picky eater anyway, but had he not been, it would have still sickened him. At this kind of buffet the mere presence of the guests and their taste made him lose appetite.

He should have become used to it long ago. He was used to it. Something had changed. It made him thoughtful. He had tasted innocence, a sense of hope and purity for too long. It had tainted him in a twisted way, a way that could not stand the sight of these carefully prepared vessels anymore.

“Ah, Galeb. We were just talking about you.”

Speak of the devil. Richard Dunham caught him just when he was passing through the room.

“We?”

“Yes, the Prince and I. That reminds me, did you enjoy the vessel I prepared for you?”

Galeb was taken aback momentarily, remembering the night.

“But of course.” he answered automatically. Richard must have known he could not answer in any other way, given that it was a gift by the Prince. He also most have known that he could have not possibly refused. What he could not know and could merely suspect was that Galeb hated this unnatural charade. He preferred a clean hunt, albeit the time he took watching his prey was unusually long and strangely intimate at times.

Richard’s face remained unmoved and Galeb ran a hand through his hair in an impatient manner, unusual for him.

“I enjoyed the subtle traces of caffeine. Not too strong, just barely a kick.”

“Ahh, I knew you would.” Richard spoke triumphantly. “I was thinking if you ever come by the Red Salon, we could look for something more refined for you.”

“Thank you, Richard, that is very kind. But I’m quite busy at the moment.” he declined politely. Of course this was all politics. Richard tried to make himself useful, the new Red Salon had been decided to be a much smaller space. Funds were directed elsewhere after what had happened at the old location. Galeb knew all too well that if Richard found a way for him to approve of the Salon, he could convince the Prince of further funding of his research, which must have been proven increasingly difficult after the loss of Leysha. He could not blame Richard. The man just tried to get by doing what he deemed needed to be done.

“I understand. But all the more, I could offer something that is more refreshing during these trying times. When I heard about Xu Feng-- That must have been a difficult situation.”

Galeb’s features turned sour. He had hoped the topic would not be brought up anymore but it seemed the Doctor had different plans in mind; possibly even to rile him up on purpose.

“And I’m very sorry about Leysha. It must have been painful to lose her.”

“Oh well” Richard sighed now, “It might be for the better in some ways.”

Galeb remained unfazed but the Doctor’s tone carried some empathy, causing him to think that maybe he had misjudged him for a moment.

“Either way, I would be happy to see you at the new location when you can find the time.”

“I really do not think I will be able to make it.” Galeb declined politely. He had enough and decided to cut it short at last. “Regardless, thank you for the invitation and I wish you a pleasant evening.”

“Likewise.” Richard responded. “But Galeb, just one more thing -- if you ever need my help, or anything really, please. Do not ever hesitate to reach out.”

There was a softness around him, almost that of a whelp, that he was not used to seeing. It was becoming clear that he had lost influence in the Court.

“Of course, Richard.”

As he looked up, he saw Prince Iversen leave a secluded room, nodding towards Delsin who was guarding the doors. Discreetly she wiped the corner of her mouth, her lipstick remained slightly smudged. She shot Galeb a glance, a subtle grin on her lips before she disappeared behind a different door.

[inquisitor-of-hearts]

Escalate (5)

After some consideration Galeb decides to not follow the Beckoning. Hazel is quick to act and entrusts him with a new task for the Camarilla.

Spoilers for all of Vampire the Masquerade: Swansong.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,627

Link to Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

on Ao3

You can't know that I lurk in shadows

“Bravo, Bravo” April was clapping her hands slowly, almost theatrically, to convey her respect. Galeb looked up from his drink as he sat in the lounge seat.

“Hazel speaks highly of you. With that connection secured we will be able to restore a great amount of stability. Go on like that and we’ll have our deal soon enough.”

“She’s not going to talk to me?”

“No need” April replied coldly, then turned in her heels, her dress swaying a little at the change of her posture. “Unless there is some urgent news she needs to hear from you directly?”

The Herald’s predator gaze made him withdraw instantly, shaking his head.

“No. No need then.” he spoke in defeat.

“Great.” With a smooth hand gesture, she turned and walked.

Before he could so much as lean back in his seat, he saw another pair of feet in close distance. He could recall seeing those boots before. He looked up and saw who April had stopped at. Her hair was untied, unruly and curly, her attire casual, although still elegant.

“She’s expecting you” April spoke just as the other woman got up from her seat. She nodded and they walked off. Emem’s head turned only once, meeting Galeb’s gaze. Her expression was neutral, merely acknowledging him. He copied the same look and let the women pass, his fingers curling against his palm unnervingly but quietly and unnoticed.

It was the same high-rise building from last night that Galeb stood in front of tonight. The pathway beneath his luxury brand shoes was paved, no signs of cracks or dirt anywhere. He looked up from it towards the sky, the peak of the building impossible to find from this close.

With a subtle manipulation trick he cleared the security at the entrance and rode up the elevator to the 34th floor. He had been around for a few minutes. This whole time and all the way up his predator senses had not picked up on anything suspicious. The air was almost too clear for his taste, which raised a different kind of suspicion. As he reached the desired floor, he searched the emergency exit, pushing the door open and stepping from the brightly lit corridor back into the dark night. He walked around the corner of the balcony, coming to a halt at a distance. Gazing past veiled windows he spotted her in a dimmed room.

She was lying on the huge couch set-up, her feet dangling in the air, still in her work attire. Only the shoes had been taken off. Last night must have exhausted her too much. It had probably been a while since she had been out for that long and the phone call afterwards played its part. Yet Galeb had felt it was common courtesy, given how much time they had spent. He had barely acknowledged her when he gave her a lift home and he had wanted to wish her good night properly. She had indeed stayed up for him. Seeing her like this, the lights still on, the TV running while she was seemingly not moving, made him worry. He had really tired her out and she must have fallen asleep. He wondered if she was alright, then decided to watch her for a while. There were no signs of any danger, it was most likely just exhaustion. He looked towards the TV, the news about all sorts of Kine matter broadcasting with barely any interruption.

His gaze was drawn to her when, after half an hour, she finally stirred. Her hand raised and she scratched her face for a while, then casually brushed a strand of hair away that must have been tickling her. The hand fell next to her on the couch again. Galeb chuckled quietly to himself. It was strange watching someone like that. Deep inside he wondered if it was really just common courtesy that had brought him here. Maybe there was a bit of worry after all. Guilt? He had long forgotten what that felt like, at least when it came to trivial matters. Betrayal was too common in the Camarilla, he could not blame others or himself anymore. Although it always left a bad aftertaste. And at times he had indeed felt something like guilt.

Feng made her way into his memory again. How he had read about her first, searched her out after he had gotten to know her from afar. It was a sick obsession, this curse of his clan. It was not only the blood that was to his taste, it was something in their being that stirred him. That and his dedication to wash off the sins of his Childe. Which in the end only lead to one more victim, and at last the kind of betrayal that he felt guilty about. Although they had betrayed him first. What would happen to the industry of the Blue Economy now, he wondered sometimes. Maybe there was more than just one victim that suffered due to his actions. But another one would take her spot; new industry leaders always emerged. Knowing his Childe, he assumed it could possibly even be him. Shaking his head to himself, gently holding his chin, he concluded Berel would not take the spotlight. At last he realized he did not want to even know all the shady businesses Berel was trying to sink his claws into, only to manipulate them from within.

At once he awoke from his thoughts as he saw her rise from the couch slowly. She sat there for a while, dazed seemingly. He checked the time -- past midnight. The TV was turned off at last. She walked towards the attached designer kitchen and took a bottle of water out of the fridge, drinking from it. She looked tired, as expected. The half-emptied bottle was put back into the fridge. Her silhouette walked to the door, her hand already on her white dress shirt, undoing the buttons. Something in Galeb awakened and he looked away. Suddenly it occurred to him that he did not avert his gaze at gruesome crime scenes and other matters, but seeing her vulnerable like this had made him instinctively avert his gaze. It was not that he was exploiting her though, or so he told himself. Determined, he looked towards her again and to his surprise he faced her back, the shirt still lingered around her shoulders. He only caught another glimpse of her before the room turned dark as the dimmed lights were turned off. His nature still allowed him to see her outline in the dark, her hand softly withdrawing from the light switches at the door before she stepped into the other room.

Galeb had waited a while but eventually it had become clear that she had gone to bed. He made his way down, walked out of the main entrance, then stopped at the end of the paved pathway. Looking up once more, he felt a strange feeling arise in himself. Not the usual craving, something else. A hint of melancholy, a memory. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus, but instantly became aware of another predator’s presence. The Kindred turned around, sensing the darkness.

“Show yourself.” he demanded.

Turning towards the trees nearby, he leaned over slightly, trying to see if there was anyone hiding behind. He stepped closer carefully and eventually reached the spot. No shadows, no predators. He grounded himself, focusing on his instincts. At last, he sighed. Whoever had been here was gone.

Galeb retreated to his apartment, lowering himself onto his couch and loosening his tie with one hand, the fatigue visible on his face. He reached into his pocket to take out the pager he carried around for official Camarilla matters and placed it onto the coffee table in front of him. Then he took out the flip phone from his other pocket, a burner phone that was used only for necessary business relations and was tied to his fake Kine persona, the one for the records that was also tied to his apartment. To his surprise the small blue LED lamp on the side of the phone was blinking. He flipped it open and saw the dated screen notifying him he had one new message and three missed calls. He pushed the buttons to get to the message. Cyrene.

Can we talk? Call me when you have time.

One call was from an hour ago, when he had been on his way back to the apartment, the other two were from twenty minutes ago. The message had been sent in-between. He had set the phone to silent and turned even the vibration off to not draw any kind of attention. He sighed and with the click of a button let the device call her number, then pressed it to the side of his face. He looked at the time on the clock behind him. 1:50 am. Maybe she was asleep. His gaze was drawn towards the large windows in his apartment, the sturdy shades had been withdrawn so as to enjoy the view. The city lights were still sparkling in the night while he waited for her to pick up. Maybe he should have just sent a message.

“Hello?” Cyrene’s sleepy voice greeted him.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you at this hour. You called, I thought it might be urgent. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” She yawned and he could hear her turning in her sheets. “I was just thinking about you.”

“How come?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“Oh, I don’t know.” she chuckled, “Just a feeling that overcame me. I fell asleep on the couch when I came home, like, I just passed out. Couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

“I’m sorry. You must be tired from yesterday.”

“No, no. I had a good night with you. But anyway, when I got up and walked into my bedroom, I washed up and changed my clothes. I got into bed, just pulled up the sheets and relaxed, my eyes closing. Then there it was.”

Silence. Galeb noticed she had stopped deliberately. He waited a bit longer but she did not continue.

“What was it?”

“You. I saw an image of you, just before falling asleep. I opened my eyes, wondering why and how. I turned on the lights because it felt so real, like you were there. But-- well.” She chuckled. “This must sound silly. I just felt you so close for a moment.”

“It must be the fatigue.” He spoke, still cold and calculated.

“Yeah, probably.” She agreed, then sighed. “Is everything okay with you?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Just because I did not hear a word from you since our chat last night.”

“I’m sorry. Where are my manners? I should have asked you how you were feeling. And I definitely shouldn’t have kept you up this long.”

“Stop apologizing already for keeping me up. I agreed to it, didn’t I?”

“Alright, alright.” he spoke. “But how are you feeling, besides tired? How was your day?”

“Just another day. I was just so tired. Could barely keep myself up without coffee.” It seemed like she already sensed he was about to speak up, but she interrupted him just in time. “Don’t apologize. It was worth it. Anyway, I checked my phone during the day, didn’t see anything from you. So I thought I might have just been reading too much into things.”

“What do you mean? How?”

“You know… the whole thing between us. You were so nice to me yesterday. But then I don’t hear a word from you during the day. Like I don’t even exist.”

“No, I’m sorry. That is on me. I should have messaged you after work. But during the day I am usually too busy to even touch my phone.” Busy sleeping that is, but that he surely did not want to elaborate further.

“I understand. Work’s work. And I saw that old thing you use.” She chuckled and he figured she must be talking about his phone. “I just-- you know. I just thought…”

Again the deliberate pause. And again she did not yield when he waited.

“What were you thinking?” he probed.

She sighed.

“Nothing. It’s okay. I mean -- are we still friends? Or whatever it is we are?”

“Of course we are.” he reassured her. “More than that. Much more. And I’d like to see you again.”

There was a quiet hum audible on the other end, almost in a questioning manner.

“You’re a mysterious man. If you weren’t so curious and old-fashioned, I’d be thinking you’re playing me.”

“I’m curious?” he asked.

“Not in a weird sense, just really… quaint. Old-fashioned. A bit of a boomer.”

“A boomer?”

“Yeah. Well, don’t take it the wrong way -- I thought you were around my age but now I don’t quite know.” She laughed it off. “Anyway, yeah. I’d like to see you again, too. But don’t play any games with me.”

“I can assure you I am not playing any games.” At least not the kind you are used to, he thought to himself. “How about tomorrow night? Or the night after? I have time after work.”

“You won’t meet me for lunch, or will you?”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m really busy during the day.” He sounded almost genuine. “But if you are not free this week, I could always find time next week after work.”

“Alright.” she spoke softly. “Tomorrow night.”

“I’ll pick you up around 9 pm. There’s one more thing I’d like to talk about though.”

“What is it?”

“I know it’s not your favourite subject to talk about but how has everything been at work? How has it been with Hartwell lately?”

She sighed, shifting in her sheets.

“He’s even more careful than usual. Very demanding when it comes to security matters. I know that you want me to introduce you -- but--”

“Don’t worry. We can talk about it tomorrow. It’s not that important. I just wanted to hear how you are feeling about him. And how you’re feeling in general.” he reassured her.

She sighed heavily.

“You know, sometimes it doesn’t feel like you really care.”

“I’m sorry, Cyrene. My interest in you is sincere. But I’m just a boomer.” He reminded her and she laughed. He had read about it once and heard some of the Neonates and Thin-Bloods use the term sometimes. “Not that good at expressing my feelings.”

“See, you’re a curious one.” She chuckled. “Sometimes when you look into my eyes, it’s like we’ve known each other forever. Like it’s just me there, like I am the only woman you can even see.”

“It’s true. It’s only you I see when we’re together.” He confirmed. “But I have all kinds of matters on my mind. And I’m not good with phone calls and text messages.”

“Text messages.” She repeated after him, as if he had chosen the wrong kind of wording. “You’re so formal.”

“I might be. It can be really hard for me to relax.”

“I can tell.” She breathed out in half a chuckle. “It’s fine. I guess that’s just you. It also has its good side. I’ve never quite met anyone as respectful as you. No one has ever called me after a date. At least not for a whole hour.”

“I can hardly believe that.” he disputed softly.

“It’s true! You’re different. I don’t meet a lot of men like you.”

“I would hope you don’t.” He confessed, his voice so tender and affectionate that a soft hum, sounding almost like a whimper, left her lips.

“You really are a strange man, Galeb.”