Petra held a cup of coffee in her hands. It was warm, and she had brought it up to her nose for a sniff during the meeting. She’d zoned out while some associate was droning on and on about something or another. She took the cup to her lips and pretended to sip, when a notification sounded from her phone.
“Miss Mykanos?” someone asked.
She used her thumb to unlock the phone, scrolled for a moment and frowned slightly.
“Miss Mykanos?” someone asked again, more urgently this time. She looked up, a proper look of annoyance on her face. Even if they didn’t realize they were doing it, her employees were recoiling from her, afraid of what she might say or do. All eyes were on Roger, the man that had been trying to get her attention.
“What is it?” she said, keeping her voice cool, with a hint of the annoyance she felt.
“We…ah…we just wanted to know what you thought?” he asked, clearly meaning about the proposal.
“It needs work.” she stood. “Refine it, and send it to my assistant for review once you’ve finalized everything.”
“But…” he began to protest.
“Did I stutter?” she asked.
“N…no?” the man offered.
“Get it done.” she said, collecting her phone before heading to the door, pulling it open and making her way to her office, past the empty assistant’s desk and through the inner office doors to sit at her desk and properly review the message. It was a very simple text: “We need to talk, ASAP” from Nikolai.
She responded back with: “In person, on call, or via text?” Typically, this was an easy way to tell if this was more Kindred related business or not. “In person. I’ll be waiting for you at home.” came the response. Petra sighed. Something up with the city, probably. New York was advantageous for her publishing company, but beyond that, there wasn’t anything really keeping her here. Broadway, maybe, but even then she wasn’t able to go often — everything just felt like work.
After collecting her purse and jacket, she made her way down to the parking garage, located her vehicle and began driving home, idly wondering what could be so important. Upon arrival, she was let in by the guard to the building, and headed upstairs via elevator to her luxury apartment. Nikolai was waiting for her, a mix of curiosity and concern on his face.
“What disaster graces us this evening?” she said, tossing her jacket and purse across the back of a nearby chair after extracting her phone.
“I’ve heard some interesting rumors,” he said. “They’re starting to spread like wildfire, and there’s talk of moving in on territory, possibly invasion.”
“Wait…we’re going to be invaded?” she asked.
“No, no…not us. Just a loss of a large asset for the Sabbat due to defection.” he clarified.
“Oh, is that all?” she said with a sigh, sounding unconcerned.
“Miss, it’s Brandon.” he said, looking slightly anxious.
“What about him?” she dismissed, as she headed through the apartment to her bedroom to change.
“He defected.” he stated, preparing himself for her to possibly be upset.
She laughed — she couldn’t help it. “Oh, that’s rich. It’s just too funny. Surely you must have heard wrong.”
Nikolai shook his head. “No, I heard right. I checked with several people. Brandon defected to the Camarilla.”
“When?” she inquired.
“I’m not sure. Sometime around Thanksgiving, I think. The timeline isn’t exactly clear — neither is the reason.” he said, remaining outside her room while she changed, so that she could still hear him.
“Any idea where he is?” she asked.
“No, sorry.” he responded.
She appeared then, leaning against the door frame to her room. “I’m going to find out, and then shake him….violently.” she grumbled.
“What would you like me to do, if anything?” Nikolai asked.
“Nothing. I’m going to get in touch with some Nosferatu and pay for what information I can. It’s easier than trying to dig it up on my own.”
“Very well, miss.” he said, disappearing to tend to other things.
She took a seat on the couch in the living room, and pulled up the number for Sam, a Nosferatu whom she knew always had good information. She let it ring three times before hanging up. Called back and let it ring twice before hanging up again, then called back once more.
“Petra, I am touched. You remembered me.” he said in an oddly calming, yet gravelly voice.
“Hello, Sam.” she responded, smiling slightly.
“Well, I can guess why you’re calling. What information do you want?” he asked her.
“Brandon Decacious. I want to know what that weasel has been up to.” she said, getting directly to the point.
“Specifics, my dear. I need specifics. What do you want to know?” he said. “It will help me set the price.”
“I heard he defected. I want to know if that’s accurate.” she said.
“Ah. I can give you that one for free, since everyone knows. That is true.” he responded. She could hear the smile in his voice.
“Good to know, I guess. Then I’ll ask two things — when did this happen, and where is he now? I want to know if we have anything to be worried about.”
“It will take some time to figure out where he went, and that will cost. He can be a tricky fellow to track down. I will see what I can do and get back in touch with you, and give you the price then.” he answered, mentally calculating as they spoke.
“Thank you, Sam. Keep me informed.” she responded.
“I will, my dear. Do not worry.” he finalized, then hung up.
She hung up and set her phone on the coffee table, sighing. What was that man up to? He had to have a reason for doing this. He always had a reason for doing drastic things.
“Ugh.” she sighed loudly. Now she had to wait, and in a situation like this, she hated waiting.
Three days later, Sam contacted her. “Where would you like to meet?” was the first thing out of his mouth when she answered.
“Same place as last time?” she asked, referring to a small bar not far from her feeding grounds.
“That works.” he grumbled. “Usual mask. I will see you there.” and promptly, he hung up.
“Nikolai, I’m going out.” she called, grabbing her jacket and keys. It didn’t take long to arrive at the bar, at least by New York standards. Upon entering the bar, she ordered a drink, casually looking around to see if Sam had arrived. By the time she received her drink, she had spotted his mask — a mid-forties man with short dark hair, fairly nondescript, a hat pulled low over his face. She thanked the bartender, tipped, and headed for the corner booth where Sam was sitting.
“What you got for me, Sam?” she asked, keeping her voice low as she playfully nommed the plastic straw in her drink for a moment to hide her anxiety about the information.
“Three times the usual.” he stated.
“Three? Why so high?” she asked.
“That is a discount because I like you. The information is highly sought, you understand.” he replied.
“Of course.” she said, picking up her phone, and proceeding with a money transfer. Once he checked his phone and saw that it had been received, he fished around in his pocket and slid a USB drive over to her.
“Thank you, Sam.” she said, and took some time to pretend to finish her drink before getting up to discreetly dispose of it and then leave, heading back home to review the information on the drive he gave her.
Once home, she plugged the drive into her laptop and looked through the information he’d gathered. It involved mostly sighting reports of where he had been, and then him suddenly appearing in San Diego four nights prior. Two nights after that, he had been caught on video with his butler, boarding a private plane, along with a young, unfamiliar man. Digging a little more, there was eventually tracking information on the plane — it had landed in Phoenix, but not for a refuel. He had been sighted there over the past couple of days, and Sam had listed information about Brandon having already presented himself to the Prince — and apparently had a childe.
That absolutely baffled her. Was he sane? She’d never known him to show interest in siring a childe, so to suddenly have one?
“Nikolai!” she called.
“Yes miss?” he responded.
“Prepare to take a flight. Tonight, if I can arrange it.” she said, already working on reserving a private plane. A flight to Phoenix would be five and a half hours, and the sooner she got there, the better, she felt, since who knew when he might leave again.
Was it all a ruse? She wondered. Either way, she was going to slap him and demand to be told what was going on, assuming she could find him once she got there. That shouldn’t be too difficult, she hoped. Arrangements made, she got up to help Nikolai pack for an extended stay away.