Soyebi was livid. That insipid misguided kinsman of his had set things in motion that was set to ruin him. His cult was gone, along with his herd. Now was the time for revenge, and he had some ideas in mind. Pulling together what resources he had left, he hired an Assamite who owed him a favor to eliminate Charles…but first, he wanted him ruined. He set specific rules to find the other vampire’s temple, and violate it. Destroy it utterly, and see if that gets him to slip up. He was determined to have his revenge….
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It had not taken long for Arturo to make travel arrangements to head to Boston, his sister’s last known location. Presently, he was standing in what had been her haven, but could find no sign of where she had gone. Annoyed, he left, and had what was left of hid mother’s ghouls – the ones Adriana was supposed to be taking care of – lead him to her office. Distaste for its simple, median, and cramped style was clear on his face, but he bad the ghoul to leave him alone, and he began going through the papers and other such things on the desk.
Again, he met with failure. His next step was to round up other vampire in the city, and quiz them incessantly about what she had been up to; where she might have gone. That was how he learned about her having contacted Willow Creek. As he didn’t know the city, he had someone give him all the information about it they could. Once the information was in hand, he headed to his hotel room to look over the information.
He was reading over the known residents of the city, and none were familiar to him – until he got to the name Brandon Decacious. This was something he should inform his mother about. He glanced at his watch and frowned. She would be asleep by now as it was morning in Venice. He resolved to call her as early as possible the next evening to inform her, and ask how she wanted him to proceed. He spent the rest of his evening, what little was left of it, trying to formulate some plans of action he could go over with her, knowing full well that she would be irate. When sunrise was a mere hour away, he took steps to proof the room against the sun, and then slept.
When he awoke the following evening, he took the time to tend to his usual evening routine, and then phoned his mother. It would be four in the morning in Venice, so there was a little time left to call her.
“Anything yet?” came the sound of his mother’s voice, laced with irritation.
“Yes.” he replied. “It would seem she was trying to ally with a city called Willow Creek, located in Montana.”
“What ever for?”
“I don’t know. That particular city is met with a myriad assortment of attitudes towards it for it’s philosophy – they are neither Camarilla nor Sabbat, nor are they Anarch. A truly Independent city.”
“Why should this matter?”
“Again, I don’t know her reasons. there is more, however.”
“Tell me.”
“I got information on some of the residents there. None of the names are familiar to me, except one. You aren’t going to like this.”
“Just tell me already.”
“Brandon Decacious lives there.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. He could almost see his Mother’s rage emanating from her body and through the phone. When she spoke, there was venom in her voice. “That man is a weed – a nuisance you thought you’d gotten rid of, only for it to pop up unwanted and unexpected.”
Arturo let his mother seethe for a bit before speaking. “What would you have me do?”
“Head there. Find her. Find out if she has anything to do with him, and if so, what that entails. In the interim, I’ll try and formulate some attacks against him, though that may be difficult.”
“Yes mother.” there was no further discussion from her – she had hung up. He sighed a little and gathered what little he had brought with him before checking out of the hotel and chartering the jet to take him to Willow Creek that night. He would establish himself somewhere he could be safe, and then take to investigating. Moreover, he would, if needed, present one of his false passport identities to fool them – no need to let them know he was Giovanni.