Note: This happens the same night Mandy confronts Brandon and Endrik, perhaps even about the same time.
Dave sat down at his desk, feeling as though he’d aged quite a bit in just the last couple of days. He stared at his computer screen for a long time, before starting in on his nightly routine of checking orders and inventory for the weapons; the store itself he only did books on maybe once a week. For the special orders, he liked to stay on top of them, having learned long ago that people frequently change their mind or demand updates – checking nightly was just..well, easier. He was wrapping up an order status to a customer, when he got an incoming message notification. He ignored it long enough to finish up, then looked to see who it was, to deem whether or not it was something he had to answer right now. He didn’t recognize the user name – it was likely a throwaway, he’d dealt with those on a few occasions – but he froze when he saw the message.
Miss me, shug? he gulped a little, but steeled himself. He had to associate with her, in order to protect himself, and others. He didn’t answer right away, instead hunting up a program he had to record his screen. He’d just started it up, and was about to answer, when another message was sent:
I hope you’re not ignoring me.
No he responded, waiting. It didn’t take long for the message to change over to an incoming call, which he answered, against his better judgment. In the back of his mind, he kept repeating that it was to protect his son, and that seemed to help. It took a moment for the camera to come into focus, and there she was, exactly as he remembered her, still looking as southern and sweet and upbeat as only her and her rockabilly style could manage. She smiled, and fear trickled into his veins.
“David, honey…you look as good as ever.” she said, smiling sweetly. He glanced to make sure the call was still being recorded, and smiled a touch nervously at her.
“You…you look good too, Miss.” he said, then paused, puzzling over why he’d said that instead of using her name.
“My dear, sweet Davey-boy.” she said, still smiling. “I’ve missed you so. I’d say it’s time to come home, but it would seem there’s nothing here for you anymore. Did you up and move shop?”
“Yes ma’am.” he said, still puzzling a little over his choice of phrasing.
“I came to your house, and you weren’t home. So I tracked down Raul at your company, only to find that had been shut down too. So tell me, shug…where are you?”
“New Orleans.” he found himself replying. He then immediately swore internally. There had to still be some blood bond influence there. He’d thought he escaped it.
“Good boy.” she cooed. “Business going well?” she asked, taking a moment to examine her nails.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Better or worse?”
“Better.”
“Good.” she said, seeming pleased and surprised at once.
“Tell me honey…are you still a ghoul?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Vassal, or so-called Independent?”
“Independent for a while?”
“What do you mean ‘for a while’?” she asked.
“I was until a couple of months ago, soon as I arrived here.”
“Who gave you your blood then?” she asked.
“Mandy.” he replied, then immediately started swearing to himself. Rather than give Donovan’s name, he’d apparently interpreted that as who’d given him blood when he first arrived and it was technically Mandy alright, for at least one month.
“Mandy…hmm…now why does that name sound so familiar?” she spoke, drumming her nails on the desk or table in front of her. While she was distracted, he looked at the scenery behind her, trying to get hints as to where she might currently be, but it was all very generic.
“Isn’t that the little girl your son is attached at the hip to?” she finally asked, looking at him.
“His friend.” he corrected.
“Isn’t she a bit young?”
“With the utmost respect Miss, it’s been six years. The both of them are nearly eighteen now.”
“My, how time flies.” she said, lightly fanning herself for a moment.
“I’ll be coming for you soon, shug. When I do, we’ll have a wonderful reunion.” she said, smiling, her voice a little more southernly, a little sweeter.
“Wh…where are you now, Miss?”
“California, honey. I’ve been looking for you, haven’t I?” she said sweetly. “Now that I know where you are, I can head out that way and find you. Tell me something though…whose territory am I walking into?”
“Brandon Decacious’.” he replied
She sighed; heavily, and with both frustration and annoyance. “Sabbat then. Well, damn sight easier than Camarilla, I suppose.” she drummed her fingers some more, thinking.
“What clan is Mandy?”
“Tzimisce.” he found himself replying. Again, it was a quick response.
She grumbled again, until a thought dawned on her. “Well, she’s young yet. She shouldn’t be too difficult to deal with.” she smiled, sugary sweet.
“I should see you by the weekend, my pet.” she cooed.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Tell no one of this conversation.” she said, before hanging up the call.
He let out a breath, slowly, and turned off the recorder. He was shaking again, from fear, and he was decidedly afraid for Mandy. His brain scanned for ways to get a loophole out of her command. The best way, he thought, was to just…up and send the file to someone. He took some time, and up and converted the file to a more usable format, before uploading it to youtube, keeping it private and hidden, viewable only to those with a link, as it was too large to send as file attachment. After it had uploaded, he sent the link to the file to Donovan, with no context other than ‘I can’t tell you anything’.
Once it was sent, he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands as his elbows rested on his desk. He was having a difficult time seeing the way out of this situation, as well as dealing with the guilt of, from his perspective, having put Mandy in more danger. After a few minutes he got up, heading towards the house liquor cabinet and pulling out some of the stronger stuff, and pouring himself a shot. He stared at it, before taking a decent chug from the bottle itself. What else was going to happen before his life settled into some modicum of normalcy?