She was still having problems sitting patiently through long meetings, but after a few years of occasional things like this, she knew she wouldn’t be the only fidgety one. She paid just enough attention to what was going on to know where she was being sent – Albuquerque. By this point, everyone was aware of the DeGuy incident, and that was to be investigated. Those present were going to be split into small cells to try to protect him – not that there was a large group of them there anyway. Of course, the ones in charge weren’t going – just the lackeys. That totaled about four small packs, with at least one Black Hand member in each pack.
Mandy herself was being sent to Albuquerque to try to find the remainder of the party that had been sent to kill Brandon, to see if she could learn what, if any, secrets had been spilled since his unfortunate conversion. When the rest of the group had left, Mandy stood, ready to leave, but was pulled aside.
“This is not your true mission.” she was told, by a dark skinned man. “You are searching for Ronan Decker and his pack. There are rumors they have converted. If this should be the case… end them.” he said.
Mandy nodded as he loosened his grip on her upper shoulder, wincing slightly as the grip had really hurt. She frowned as she rubbed her shoulder, figuring she really needed to build up some more tolerance to that shit. She was tired of getting the occasional flak due to her clan, gender, or combination thereof. Agonistes was the one that had ‘hired’ her, for better or worse. Why couldn’t they see that? Because they don’t know what you know, she reminded herself.
So now here she was, riding a bus to Albuquerque after hitching the occasional ride, thinking over her mission as she absentmindedly sang along with whatever was playing through her earbuds. This of course drew the attention of the other passengers. In due time, there was a tap on her shoulder. Annoyed, she popped her gum, swiped a thumb over her phone to pause the music, and popped out an earbud, expecting to see some sleazebag trying to hit on her, or some Karen wanting to bitch. Instead, she found a harried young father, desperately trying to calm his baby.
“Please…do you think you can stop? I’m trying to get the baby to sleep. Or at least be quieter?” he asked hopefully.
Mandy stared at him for a long moment, then blinked back to the present. She reached out to squeeze the young man’s arm. “I got this.” she said, then lightly placed a hand on the baby’s head, and sang a lullaby in soft, quiet tones. It took a little time, but it got the little one’s attention, and eventually the father was able to put the child back in its car seat and get them to doze.
“Thank you.” he said, genuinely appreciative for what Mandy had done. “That was lovely…where did you learn it?”
She shrugged. “I heard it somewhere. Don’t remember where, sorry.”
“That’s too bad… I would have liked to learn – it worked like a charm. Anyway, thanks again.” he said with a smile.
“Sure.” she responded. “You should try to get rest, too, while you can.” after that she went back to chewing on her gum, popped the earbud back in, and unpaused her music. She turned her face to stare out the window, her mind fully onto one of the memories she held dear.
Mandy had been little, perhaps five or six at most, and scared of a particularly bad thunderstorm. She’d been crying for who knew how long at that point – she could only remember clutching Sir Mister, her stuffed bear, for dear life and being scared. She knew her mother had been exasperated trying to deal with her. In her memory, she heard the downstairs door open and close, then footsteps coming up the stairs. A moment later, her father was in her room, hugging her tightly. As she clung to him, he would sing that lullaby as the storm quieted, until she got sleepy. Then he tucked her in, put Sir Mister beside her, and waited until she fell asleep before leaving. She presumed he left after she fell asleep. After all, he hadn’t been there in the morning.
She could feel tears stinging the back of her eyes, so she bit down on her lower lip in order to keep from crying. No giveaways, no hints that she was different. Focus on Albuquerque, and what she had to do there. It had been a long time since she’d seen Ronan last, and wondered if he remembered her as fondly as she remembered him.
When the bus rolled to a stop in Albuquerque, the father and his baby were asleep. Leaning over, she checked his ticket to see if this was his stop – it wasn’t. Quietly, she pulled some money out of her pocket, and slipped it into his jacket. It wasn’t a lot to her – but it might be for him. If nothing else, it could get them some food or diapers. Turning back around, she shouldered her bag and got off the bus, wrinkling her nose a little. First things first – find the local hangout.
~ * ~
Albuquerque wasn’t as dull as originally thought. Here, apparently, was where the DeGuy crap had begun, though the others were not present, as DeGuy was holed up elsewhere, to her knowledge. She took a little time with the investigation, asking around about what had happened, and getting different perspectives on the matter, while also proving herself to be a sister of the sect. She’d even managed to hear a little from Cornelius’ point-of-view concerning the situation. Still, that wasn’t what she was there for – it was more to sate her curiosity than anything else, and provide a backup of events should they be needed.
This had all begun a week ago, on the sixteenth. Mandy’s arrival in Albuquerque hadn’t happened until after the big meet in Mexico City, which she had not been invited to attend. She kept a low profile for a day or so after doing her initial investigating. She made it a point to hang out in the local club and just…be. Her lack of any new questions seemed to make people relax, and in response to this, she made sure to listen to as much of the local chatter as she could, for any word about Ronan or the rest of the Vagabonds.
Most of the news was nothing particularly noteworthy to her – local drama, primarily. But it soon began to spread that the Sabbat may be going to war with the Camarilla, since it seemed like they, or at least the defected Brandon Decacious, had tried to assassinate DeGuy. This riled up several people, and one of those people, she happened to recognize. She took her time to watch him, wondering if he was still the same idiot she remembered. Collecting a cup or two from the taps, she took one for herself, and carried one over to one of the stereotypical biker punks present.
She herself could probably fit among them, though it wasn’t her normal aesthetic. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, her frame clothed in a pair of tight, dark blue denim jeans and a black tank top under a motorcycle jacket, feet clad in Demonia boots, as opposed to the more generic motorcycle boots of her target. Setting a smile to her lips, forcing it to reach her sky blue eyes, she thrust her arm out, holding one of the cups in front of her.
“Thought you might be thirsty.” she said, putting a little sultriness to her voice. Certain types of people were more pliable when she spoke that way, and Warren was no exception. He turned around, annoyed at first, but when he saw her, his face lit up, and he took the cup from her and grinned.
“Mandy! Where the hell you been?” he grinned, reaching to hug her. She didn’t want to hug back, knowing he’d go for a grope, but she did it anyway. Sure enough, he tried to grab her ass, and she gave him a warning growl.
“Just kidding.” he laughed, stepping back, downing the liquid in the cup as if it were meant to be a shot. “Seriously, though, we should catch up.” he said with a grin.
“We really should.” she said, smiling again. She’d never liked Warren, but he was the best place to get information right now.
“Great!” he grinned, putting an arm around her, leading her off to another part of the club. Gathered there were a group of other guys – clearly not Vagabonds, unless they were new. Warren gestured for her to sit and have a few drinks with them. They were purposefully trying to get drunk, and she definitely did not want to be drunk with this crowd, but kept up the charade in order to try to get the information she wanted. Eventually, Warren got drunk enough she felt comfortable asking.
“Warren, what happened to the pack?”
“This is my pack.” he said, slurring his words.
“Not the one I remember.” she prompted, taking a sip from the same empty cup she’d had for a couple of hours now.
“Oh, them.” he grumbled. “Can you believe they kicked me out?” he grumbled.
“You got kicked out?” she asked incredulously. “Why?”
“‘Cause I’m awesome.” he slurred, belching at the end of the sentence, and then laughed.
She paused, debating briefly on how to proceed before asking. Quickly enough, she had her answer. “Well damn them!” she stood, crushing her cup. “I should go kick their ass!”
“Yea!” cheered Warren and his buddies.
“If only I know where they were.” she pouted. “Then I could go kick their ass right now.”
“Aww, don’t cry, pretty sister.” laughed one of them.
“Yea, we can tell you where everyone thinks they went.” another said.
“Really and for true?” she said, turning on the charm.
They nodded. Yet another member of the pack, the quieter of the boisterous bunch, spoke up. “If-if-if i-i-it’s t-to b-b-believe…” he began, stuttering. Ah…that must be why he stayed quiet.
One of the others slapped Stutter on the back, hard. “Spit it out, man!”
“Ph-Ph-Phoenix!” he managed to blurt out.
“Well….consider their asses kicked.” she smiled, spending a little more time with them before departing. Dawn was nearing, so she headed back to her fleabag motel room for the night, trying to also ensure that no one followed her there. Upon closing the door to the room, she paused, grabbed the Do Not Disturb sign in order to hang it outside, then promptly locked the door and went about securing everything else to the best of her ability, before rummaging through her bag, shifting around her meager possessions until they fit better, hiding weapons and removing her charger for her phone, plugging it in and setting it to charge while she slept.
In her sleep, she clung tightly to the blankets, a part of her wishing desperately for Sir Mister to comfort her. But Sir Mister was long gone, having been destroyed when her childhood home had been blown up years ago. In her sleep, she had a nightmare – the same one that had been plaguing her for a while now. When she awoke, she went immediately to the bathroom to shower, knowing that tears would be staining her face.
Once Mandy was dressed, she checked out of the motel and headed to the bus station, buying the next ticket to Phoenix. It would take all night, but she would get there, find a cheap motel to stay at, and then get back to her hunt for Ronan. She slung her backpack over one shoulder, popped her earbuds in, and pressed play, looking up at the nearly full moon for a bit as the music began to play, lingering a bit before looking towards the parking lot of the depot.
The bus was a little late, but she’d still get to Phoenix before sunrise. Triple-checking had also ensured that there were no stops along the way. Climbing onto the bus, she sat toward the back, and by the time it took off, it was half full. Cranky kids, weary adults, and drunken rowdies were what made up the bulk of the late night ride. She sighed. This was going to be a long eight hours.
~ * ~
Mandy wasted no time getting off the bus and having a taxi take her to the nearest motel. I really should find a better way to travel she thought. Still…the hotel was at least a bit better than where she’d been staying in New Mexico. As she entered the room, she dumped the contents of her bag out onto her bed, quickly snagging the contractor bags and Gorilla tape, then began covering the large front window of the room. She located the Do Not Disturb sign, hanging that up on the outside of the door, then beelined back for the bed, where she scooped up the items back into her bag before locking the door to the room. The next stop was the bathroom, where she shut and locked that door before taping up the cracks between it and the frame and floor. With that all settled, she climbed into the bathtub, closed the shower curtain, hugged her backpack, and waited for sleep to claim her for the day.
Upon waking the next night, Mandy realized that she had made a colossal mistake – she didn’t know the allegiance of the city she was in. It had not occurred to her to check. After panicking a few moments, she calmed herself down.
“You can always play the part of Independent.” she told herself. This helped to calm her, especially after realizing that it should ring true for anyone suspicious of her.
Cheering up, she got into a change of clothes, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stopped at the hotel ATM to withdraw some cash before departing. Her first order of business was to find a Nosferatu, and ask a question, provided they weren’t horrifically pricey for what she wanted. Checking to make sure her phone was fully charged first, she looked up places with poor reviews that might indicate slummier parts of town as she walked, before calling an Uber to take her to one of those places.
When no one was paying any attention to her, she ducked around the building into an alley, looking for a nearby sewer cover or grate. Eventually she found one, and tapped a small rhythm onto it: ratta-tat-ratta, tat-tat-ratta, bang, bang, slap, ratta-tata. It didn’t echo above, but it should below, and hopefully it grabbed their attention enough that they’d seek her out. After fifteen minutes, she was about to leave and try elsewhere, when she noticed movement in the shadows. Turning on her Heightened Senses allowed her to hear the squeaking of a rat, before seeing it climbing into the dumpster near her, and scurry up a fire escape. She followed its trail until she saw a camera looking directly at her. Testing a theory, she moved in one direction, and then another. Sure enough, it was following her. She locked gazes with it, and it turned, pointing to a door in the wall across the way, hidden by a camouflage of heavy spray-paint.
Tat-tat-ratta came the sound she made knocking, and after a moment a thin slit was open in the door, revealing a pair of beady little eyes – green, perhaps. “What do you want?” a raspy voice sounded. She held up a small wad of flash cash and pocketed it again, first making sure no cop was patrolling nearby. She turned off her Heightened Senses at this point, just in time to hear what had to be a rusty bolt sliding through a lock occur, before the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Odd pairing, she thought, stepping inside when bade to do so.
The space was very tiny. Directly in front of her was a narrow set of stairs leading down. A door to the left indicated that it led to a kitchen which, by the smell of things, was for a Chinese takeout. The Beady-Eyed Woman at the door gestured for her to head downward. The basement was a stockroom, but there were some doors at the far end. One was clearly a deep freezer, while the other looked like it might belong to an office. This is where she was directed. Two normal knocks to the door by the Beady-Eyed Woman later, and Mandy was let into a tiny, cramped little office, with top-tier electronics.
“Information?” came a voice from the chair in front of a computer. That chair has to be straight out of an eighties office, Mandy thought, as she started at the ugly blue and steel chair.
“Yes, please.” she said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. But how else should she sound, other than a twit, to throw people off?
The man in the chair turned around to reveal a rat-like face, the nose hooked and hanging low, the eyes droopy, and ears ragged. “You’re new, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes…sir? Umm, anyway…yes, yes I am.” she smiled for a moment, before letting it fade, and making herself look uneasy.
The man just sighed. “Agatha, collect the usual stipend from this twit and direct her to Elysium. Let Adam deal with her.”
“Of course.” the Beady Eyed Woman responded, walking Mandy out of the office and over to the stairs, where she then collected roughly $300, and explained that she would need to head to the Chase Tower downtown. Mandy thanked her and popped her bubblegum at her before leaving, heading out of the alleyway to the street proper. Now she knew how to go about approaching things.
Since she didn’t want trouble, she’d have to introduce herself – the sooner, the better. Walking down the street, she looked up businesses on her phone to see what was near the Chase building so that she could get a ride there, and then just walk over. It might not be court night – she didn’t know – but it was possible she could still introduce herself. She’d at least be able to figure out who she needed to speak to and when she could do it. After scrolling a bit, she stopped, and smiled a little.
The Uber she had ordered dropped her off at a McDonald’s a block or two over, and she happily walked toward the Chase Tower as she munched on her favorite food – french fries. By the time she arrived, she was able to throw away the empty pack in one of the outdoor trashcans, before getting stopped by guards on her way in.
“We need to check your bag, miss.” one of them said. Mandy paused a moment to inspect them using Auspex before nodding.
“Can I have you guys hold on to it while I’m here, actually?” she smiled sweetly at them while they checked through her things, and nodded to her.
“Yes, miss, we can. Just collect it from here when you leave.” said one of them.
Hmm….he’s kinda cute… she shook her head and told herself no. Likely he was one of the Prince’s ghouls anyway. They told her what floor to head to, so she stepped into the elevator, pressed that button, and rode her way up, wondering what kind of Prince she was going to encounter, before turning her thoughts to trying to remember the Camarilla’s rules.
She stepped off the elevator and headed across the hall into a large room. There were several tables and chairs scattered about, thought not a lot of people, presently. At the head of the room, there was a larger conference table with chairs, and a desk. A few people were scattered about – not too many, so it probably wasn’t a court night. As the conference table was set up at the same end as the desk, Mandy guessed that it was, quite possibly, for the Council that Camarilla cities had, though she had trouble remembering the name for the Council most of the time.
Looking over the room, she noticed several people, but the first to catch her eye was a large, serious looking man standing near the desk. At the desk itself sat a man with short, dark hair. His eyes were darker as well, an aquiline nose, an expression that was also serious, or at least attentive, as he sat listening to someone talk to him. Over at the tale, she saw a woman – or, well, maybe it was a mannequin? She shrugged, looking around and noting another woman, looking as thought she stepped out of the silver screen during Hollywood’s Golden Era, a rather handsome Native American man, and several others that didn’t register of particular note at that moment, though she could likely guess at the clans for some of them, if they were, in fact, the Council.
She could be entirely wrong, though. Which one was the Prince? How should she go about approaching them once she figured things out? She let out a silent huff as she pulled up a chair at a minimally filled table and sat down.
“Something wrong?” a young-looking bald man with Arab features asked.
“I don’t know what to do.” she muttered, pouting a little.
The Arab man smiled. “Are you one of the new arrivals?” he asked. She blinked a little. This could work to her advantage. After a moment, she nodded.
“Don’t worry.” he said. “Adam’s not bad people, though it does appear he’s occupied presently.”
“Is he the one at the desk?” she asked.
He nodded, then offered her a hand. “My name is Charles.”
“Mandy.” she replied.
“It’s nice to meet you.” he said, smiling.
“You too.” she said, taking the hand he had offered, while tucking a stray strand of hair away with the other, smiling a genuine smile all the while.
“May I ask a question?” he asked.
“You may.” she said, resting an elbow on the table, and her chin in her hand as she conversed.
“You appeared lost when you came in. Tell me, was it just because you couldn’t locate the Prince, or was it something else?”
“The first thing.” she replied. “I get shy meeting new people sometimes – especially when they’re an authority figure.” she flicked her eyes over to the man at the desk. Adam, he had been called.
What she had told Charles wasn’t exactly a lie. It was more of a caution these days, really. She’d been much more up-front and up-beat ion the past. But there had been things that made her more cautious, more wary. Elders and authority figures were two of those things.
“As mentioned, Adam seems to be a good person; a good leader. Young for a Prince, but I can understand the apprehension. When he’s not busy, would you like me to introduce you?” he asked.
“Would you really?” she asked, looking hopeful. Gods, this is a stroke of luck, she thought.
“Of course. I like to help those that need it.” Charles explained simply.
They both talked casually, about nothing of any real importance, while they waited. AS luck would have it, they didn’t have to wait long.
“Let’s go see Adam now.” he suggested.
“But he isn’t finished talking?” she asked.
“No, but based on his expression, he might welcome the interruption.” Charles explained.
Looking over, she saw a well-dressed woman, with nary a hair on her head out of place, looking stern – perhaps her tone even matching her face – as she spoke to Adam.
“Perhaps you’re right.” Mandy said, a little smile playing on her lips.
Charles stood and waited for her but a moment before heading towards the desk. Adam looked up as they approached, a slight look of gratefulness on his face before it quickly faded, and he turned to his guest.
“I apologize, Victorine, but it looks like I have other guests to tend to.” he said, his voice calm, almost soothing, in a way.
“Don’t forget, Adam.” she said, walking away.
“I won’t.” he said, and muttered something under his breath before standing to look at both Charles and Mandy.
“Charles. Good to see you. How can I be of help?” he asked, putting on a pleasant smile.
Charles gestured lightly to Mandy. “Mandy here is a new arrival.”
“So I see.” Adam said, offering a hand. “You may call me Adam. I’m the Prince of Phoenix.”
Mandy studied him a moment, trying to gauge his mood, but wasn’t able to read much. He seemed genuine enough. She took his hand, and started to speak, but he held up a finger, and looked around the room a moment, then back at Charles, before his piercing eyes settled on her again. His hand tightened ever so slightly at first, and then his grip became tighter, more pronounced; authoritative.
“Let’s talk in my office, shall we?” he said, smiling. “Let the others satisfy their curiosity about you later.”
“Oh. Alright.” came her reply.
He stepped around the desk, hovering an arm just behind her, then guided her out of the room, and down the hallway. She thought she heard something move behind them, but when she glanced back, there was nothing there.
She had been expecting an office. Instead, what Adam had led her to was clearly an interrogation room.
“I don’t understand.” she said, stopping in the doorway. As he didn’t move or speak, she stepped into the room, and he followed, closing the door behind him. He gestured to a chair on the side of the table furthest from the door, sitting down only after she had. He folded his hands in front of him, studying her with a patient, serious look.
It kind of reminded her of the stern looks her father would give her on occasion.
“I wanted to give you a chance to speak the truth.” he said after several moments of silence. “Let’s start with the basics – what is your name?”
“Amanda Winchester. I go by Mandy.” she said, unsure of where this was going, but planning to be cautious with her answers.
“What is your clan?” he asked, again with a patient tone.
“Ravnos.” she said, studying him intently.
“Ravnos? Oh dear, am I in trouble.” he asked, chuckling slightly.
“Not that I’m aware of.” she said.
“Good. Now that we are past that, what is your generation?” he continued.
“Seventh.” was her response.
“Are you sure?” he questioned.
“That’s what I was told.” she replied, trying not to be annoyed. What kind of game was he playing at? What was he up to?
He reached out a hand for one of hers, and took it in his. For a moment, he just studied the back of it, before flipping it over and studying it. After what felt like several minutes of study, he smirked, though this was imperceptible to her, and traced a pattern on her palm, over and over before finally letting go of her hand.
“And why would a member of the Sabbat’s Black Hand be visiting my city?” he said, his tone sounding much more serious than before.
“I’m looking for someone.” she responded honestly. How this man knew what she was – that was a question for curiosity, and now was not the time to be curious. Now was the time to be forthright and honest. It’s what would let her live through the night. Hopefully, at least.
“A member of your sect, or a member of your group?” he asked.
A test, then, Mandy decided. “Neither.”
She wasn’t sure how, but in a blur of motion, her wrist was now broken, before she could even feel the pain. She certainly felt it now, and she glared a little at Adam as he smoothed out his shirt.
“No lies, Miss Winchester. Remember?” he said.
“A member of my order.” she answered, flexing her hand as it healed.
“That certainly narrows it down. Care to give the name? I might be able to help.” he said, still giving her that stern Dad look.
“Ronan Decker.” she said.
“Ronan, you say? I believe I know him. You realize, of course, you have to follow the rules while you’re here, yes?”
“I’m aware.” she replied.
“Good. Consider yourself privileged to stay, for now. Just remember to follow the Traditions. Break them, and…well…you’ll not be welcome much longer.” he said.
“I can…” she cleared her throat, not really wanting to question what he’d just said. “Thank you, sir.”
“Make sure you behave, Amanda.” he said, carefully printing something on a sticky note before handing it to her. She looked it over before he stood, getting up to lead her toward the door to the room at this point – it was an address. At hearing her name, she couldn’t help but make an ick face, but she complied, leaving the room, and headed immediately for the elevators, and not the central room where Elysium was held.
Adam stood in the hallway as she left, hands in his pockets. Externally, he was expressionless. Internally, he was pleased. By his reckoning, if what he had seen in the young girl’s mind was true, his beloved Tavi would be his more than ever between that and the announcement he planned to make soon. “Keep an eye on that one, Declan.” he said to the open air. “Just in case.” It wouldn’t do to not cover his bases. Just in case.
It was still early in the evening yet, but she needed to hunt. Hunting would be a good way to take her mind off the panic she’d just experienced at being found out – before she’d had time to do anything wrong, at that. She chose a direction, and just started walking, until she came upon a sparsely populated area, and a homeless person sleeping in an out-of-the-way alcove. Quickly and quietly, she dragged them into a dark shadow at the side of a building and drank deeply, but did not kill. It was merely enough to sate what she used up that night, with a little extra.
Mandy laid her victim out gently, and tucked a small amount of her petty cash into their pocket. Hopefully they’d use it for food. Quickly, she left the area, and headed back towards the McDonald’s she’d been to earlier. More fries were needed right then. Order placed and fries collected, she took up a corner booth and began to scroll through her phone as she munched, looking up the address Adam had given her. It was a house, and hopefully, Ronan’s address. How or why Adam would have it was beyond her, but she planned to be prepared in case it was a trap.
She continued to munch on her fries, looking up the address on Google Maps in order to get a street view of the place and it’s surroundings as she ate. Once finished, she ordered an Uber to take her to within a few blocks of the address give. She wanted to scout it out before trying the casual approach. As stealthily as she could muster, she took a look around the property and neighboring homes, but found nothing. Frowning, she took a long walk around a couple of blocks, taking her time but keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, but found nothing. Eventually, she made her way back to the address she’d been given, and moved up to the property. This time, she heard movement inside.
Slowly walking up to the door, she poised a hand to knock, but paused. Turning on her Heightened Senses, she listened for a few minutes, hearing people talking. She could make out Ronan’s voice, and one other that was unfamiliar to her. No noise from the Earls, which was unusual. She closed her eyes, and put her hand down, then felt around in her pockets for her butterfly knives. Waiting for a moment, she debated taking the time to coat her knives with her blood, but ultimately decided against it. She could also take them by surprise and kick down the door, but that would mean she was going in blind. Her mind made up, she raised her hand, and knocked.
She shuffled her feet, waiting for an answer. After a moment, a young, unfamiliar man with short, spiky brown hair, green eyes, and quite a few freckles answered.
“Oh. Uhh….can I help you?”
Mandy smiled sweetly, turning on the charm, hoping it might help. “Maybe? I’m looking for my friends. I was told they might be here.” she said, studying him as she spoke.
“Well, we just moved here, so you’ll h ave to look elsewhere.” he said, beginning to close the door.
She stuck an arm out in order to hold the door open. “Are you sure you can’t help?” she pouted.
The man sighed. “I’m sure I don’t know them. But yeah, sure. Whatever to get you on your way.” he said.
With a sugary sweet smile, she said. “I’m looking for The Vagabonds. Have you heard of them?” The surprise in his eyes did not escape her.
“Ronan!” he called, turning his head to yell into the house.
“Dammit, Ollie, what?” she said, hearing his voice. It brought back a flood of memories.
“Someone at the door asking for The Vagabonds.” he tried whispering.
“Handle it.” Ronan grumbled.
“No you.” Ollie shouted back.
She could practically hear the scowl as she heard movement, and after a moment, Ollie moved out of the way and Ronan appeared. He froze slightly when he saw her.
“Mandy?” he asked, disbelief in his tone.
“In the flesh.” she said with a smile, striking a small pose.
He started to break out into a smile, then stepped onto the porch, looking around before speaking. “How many of you are there?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Just me.” she said sincerely, hoping he picked up on that.
“What is it you want?” he asked.
“Shelter.” she replied. If he were still Sabbat, or at least pretending to be, he wouldn’t refuse.
“For how many?” he asked, being cautious.
“Just me.” she stated, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice, though she tried to keep it at bay.
“Come in.” he said, stepping aside, giving her enough room to enter. Once she had, he closed the door behind her.
Immediately, she began to study her surroundings, as she’d been taught to do.
“How’d you find us?” he finally asked.
“Where’s the rest of your pack?” she asked, avoiding the question for now.
They both winced a little. “Warren got kicked out for being a dick. The Earls are dead.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That doesn’t explain how you knew how to find us.” Ollie said. “Or where your pack is.” Ronan chimed in.
Mandy looked around again. The place was largely empty, with nowhere to really sit, so she sat on the floor for now.
“I’d heard you were in Albuquerque.” she started. “I ran into Warren and his new pack – one of them mentioned they’d heard you were here.”
“What are you even doing here?” Ronan asked.
“How do you even know her?” Ollie asked. “Who is she? Quit being rude already.”
“Shut it, Ollie.” Ronan snapped.
“Not until you answer me.” Ollie said, standing his ground.
“Ollie, this is Mandy – she’s an old friend. Mandy, this is Ollie – a newer packmate.” he said, then turned to Ollie. “Happy now?”
“Better.” was Ollie’s reply.
“Mandy, why are you here?” he asked again.
“Can we talk?” she asked, standing back up and brushing off her jeans, though there was nothing there.
“Talk away.” he answered.
She glanced at Ollie. “Alone?”
“Sure.” Ronan said, glancing at Ollie. “Follow me.” he looked at Ollie. “Behave.”
“What?” Ollie stated. “I didn’t do anything!”
“Keep it that way.” Ronan said, his tone serious. He turned back to Mandy. “Come on.”
She nodded, following him as he weaved though the house and into a bedroom, closing the door behind him. The room itself was sparse – a bed, and not much else at the moment.
Once the door was closed, he hugged her, tightly. She hugged him back, tighter than she’d meant to, but gods, did she ever need it. It had been so long. Closing her eyes, she leaned against him as long as she dared, before pulling away.
“Why are you here?” he asked again, looking her over.
“I need to know, Ronan…have…have you defected?” she said, studying his face.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.” he said. She sighed. It wasn’t as clear of an answer as she’d hoped.
“Please Ronan…be honest.” she pleaded.
“Ollie has, and I stick by my brother.” was his response. “Why are you asking?” he said, caution in his tone.
In response, she reached into her pockets. With a burst of Celerity, she pulled out a twin pair of butterfly knives, flicked her left wrist to rapidly open one, and with the other hand she pressed the unopened knife against Ronan’s throat.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asked.
“No.” she said, her hands trembling for a moment before flicking the other knife closed, and putting both away.
“You weren’t sent to kill me?” he asked.
“I was – both you and Ollie. But I can’t do that to you, Ronan. I still had to know…” she responded.
“Mandy.” he began, but she cut him off.
“Don’t you see? I had to warn you, Ronan. I…” she trailed off, balling her hands into fists so that her nails dug in. She did not want to cry.
“What?” Ronan said, approaching her, brushing stray tendrils of hair from her face. “I believe you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Thank you.” she managed to say.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” he asked. She simply nodded, and he guided her to the bed so she could sit.
“Tell me. We always could tell each other anything. What’s holding you back?” he said.
She reached out, grabbing one of his hands, giving it a good squeeze before pulling him to sit next to her. “I don’t want to lose you.” she said, squeezing his hand tightly again. “I can’t lose anyone else.” she whispered. This time, she didn’t stop the tears.
“Lose? Mandy, is this about your pack?” she nodded. “How did you lose them?”
“My childer split off from me because I refused to choose between them. They both went their separate ways. That was ten years ago – no idea what’s happened to them since. Martin got himself killed in an accident.” she leaned against him, squeezing her eyes closed, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
Ronan put an arm around her. “What about Claude, and your ghoul?”
“Michael left. A note was left behind, explaining why – it was all due to the blood bond. I know who helped him, but I didn’t pursue.” she said quietly.
“You just let your best friend walk away?” he asked.
Mandy nodded. “He deserves his own life. What the blood bond was doing to him was wrong – he didn’t deserve that. I can’t do that to him anymore. That’s why I let it be.”
“How long has it been now?” he gently prodded.
“Same amount of time – ten years. Claude was killed in an ambush. They’re all gone, they left me all alone. I can’t lose you too – you’re the only one left that I love and trust.”
Ronan shifted how he was sitting, then pulled her into his arms, processing everything she had just said. Her childhood friends, her father… no wonder.
“Wait a minute.” he said, pulling away from her enough to lift her chin so that she was looking at him. “You love and trust me?”
She looked into his eyes, trying to think of something to say. Something witty or positive or just plain comprehensible. “Duh.” was what she managed to get out.
He chuckled. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about those two things. Don’t worry.” he added, when she began to protest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
A few minutes later, Mandy was standing in front of a mirror in a brightly lit bathroom, the sound of Ollie bickering with Ronan from somewhere else in the house – something about getting stains out of the towels. It made her smile slightly, as it reminded her vaguely of Michael complaining. She reached to turn on the water, then looked up. Gods, I look terrible she said to herself.
She took her time cleaning up, careful to scrub away all the blood she could find. The cry had been needed, but that didn’t make her any less embarrassed that it had happened in front of Ronan, of all people. When she’d finished cleaning up her face, she took a look at her clothes to see how badly they had been stained – fortunately, it wasn’t easy to tell on a dark shirt. The jacket could be wiped, as it was leather, so she took care of that, coming out of the bathroom after several minutes.
“Oh, honey, you’re a mess.” Ollie said with a sigh. Ronan wasn’t in sight.
“Thanks?” she responded, unsure whether to be offended.
“Ronan’ll be back – he said to tell you he just went to get a few things.” Ollie promised, then took her by the hand, leading her to what she guessed was his room. “Now come on .” he continued. “You’re in desperate need of a makeover.”
She blinked. Michael 2.0? she thought, but a small smile played on her face. Well, let’s see how good he is came the continued thought. Ollie sat on the edge of his bed, and began setting a few things out on an end table nearby before gesturing for her to sit in front of him. After she had sat down, h er back to him, he took her hair down, and began brushing it. She closed her eyes as he did so – it felt…nice? Yes, that was it. Nice, and soothing. She sighed a little contentedly as he brushed in silence, then spoke up.
“You have gorgeous hair. Very silky. What do you use?” he asked.
“Nothing special. I inherited some good genes, is all. Got lucky like that.” she said with a small smile.
“I wish my genes were as good as yours – you’re gorgeous.” he continued.
“Are you hitting on me?” she asked.
“What? No. Honey, I’m gay.” he replied.
“Oh.” she laughed. “Sorry for assuming.”
“No problem. So…how do you know Ronan?” he prodded.
Ah. she should have guessed this is where it might go. “We’ve worked together, off and on, over the years.”
“How many years?”
“Umm….hold on.” she sat, thinking for a moment. “Just shy of fourteen.”
“I’ve only known him five at most.” Ollie confided. “So….anything spicy?” he asked, fishing for gossip.
“I’m not telling.” she said. Memories were creeping in, however.
“That’s a yes.” Ollie responded, tying off the braid he’d been working on. “Get up here, let me take a look at those nails.”
Mandy got up, sitting on the edge of the bed with him, and held out her hands for him to inspect. She knew they were well manicured – Michael had just done them before her unfortunate undeath. Still, Ollie tsked, and began working at them.
“What about you?” she asked him.
“What about me?” he said, intent on his work.
“Anyone special in your life?” she wondered aloud.
He paused for a moment, then continued. “Not anymore.”
“What happened?” she frowned, sorry to have brought up what seemed to be a sore spot.
“He left to go on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity out of country short-notice.” was the response she got.
“I’m sorry.” she said, as he looked through some nail polish, finally selecting a nice purple that matched the highlights in her black hair.
“It’s okay, you didn’t know.” he said.
“Tell me about it.” she said, offering to let him unload. And he did, explaining his frustration and complications with his relationship with a guy named Liam, and everything that entailed – from the secrets that had to be kept, to the complications with polyamory, to his anger and sadness about how Liam left things.
He applied the last stroke of polish to the final nail, and let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you.” he said.
“For what?” she asked.
“For asking. For letting me vent. I needed it. I mean, I’ve talked with Tavi a little, but she’s also real close to the situation. She was his friend, you know?” he stated.
“I think I get it.” she said. “I don’t know Tavi, but hopefully she’s a good friend.”
“Oh, yeah. To me and Ronan both, though she didn’t like me initially.” he said, giving a small laugh as he remembered the early days, though it was more out of nerves than humor.
Glancing up, Mandy noticed Ronan leaning in the doorway. He held a finger up to his lips, but nodded at her. “Who’s Tavi?” she was looking at Ronan, whom Ollie hadn’t yet noticed.
“A good friend.” Ronan replied. “I’ve known her several years – we help each other out, regardless of sect politics.”
“Oh.” Mandy said, feeling a little dejected.
“Relax, not like that.” he said. “She’s got someone.”
“What do you think?” she asked Ronan, changing topics, holding up her nails.
“Looks good.” he said with a smile. “C’mon Manda, I’ll show you where you can sleep.” he said.
Manda. She hadn’t heard that nickname in a while. Of course, she let very few people use it. “Thanks, Ollie.” she said as she got up, and followed Ronan back to his room.
“I figure you can sleep here. I’ll bunk with Ollie.” he said.
“Don’t you dare.” she pouted.
He smiled. “I didn’t want to assume.”
She took off her jacket, and put it on the floor next to her bag, taking a moment to stretch before sitting on the edge of the bed before taking off her boots. Ronan watched, waiting until she had finished to join her, then got into the bed, positioning himself so that he were laying on his side. Mandy shook her head and smiled, lying down in order to become the little spoon, and cuddled into him. He draped an arm around her and pulled her in tight.
“Missed you.” he mumbled into her ear.
“Missed you too.” she responded, reaching a free hand to squeeze his.
“I have a question for you.” he asked her.
“Hmmm?” she said, closing her eyes.
“Are you safe here?”
She was quiet for a moment before answering. “I don’t know.”
“Does anyone know you’re here?” he continued.
“Adam does.” she replied.
“The Prince?” he confirmed.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“If you went the route of presenting yourself, you should be okay.” he said, sounding a little relieved.
“I don’t know about that.” she admitted.
“Why, what happened?” he asked, propping himself up onto his elbow.
She rolled over to face him. “He knew what I was.”
“Ravnos?” he blinked, confused.
She shook her head. “Hand.”
Ronan sucked in a breath. “Shit. How did he know?”
“I have no idea.” she confessed.
“Damn.” he muttered. “He give you permission to stay?”
“As long as I behave myself, though he never said for how long. I don’t know anything else.” she shuddered a little.
“What is it?” he said, pulling her a little closer.
“The whole encounter was weird. Off – a little scary.” she admitted.
“Tell me?” he prodded.
So she did. Everything that happened, from the time she walked into Elysium, until the time she left the building. Ronan listened intently, frowning a little.
“I might talk to Tavi about this, see if I can figure things out for you.” he promised.
“You don’t have to.” she said.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you if I can help it.” he stated.
“Ronan?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“Can I stay?”
“Is something wrong?” he said, lying back down, but first kissing her forehead.
“I just want to stay with you.” she stated. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“Then stay.” he said. “Stay as long as you want.”
“Thank you.” a small smile played at her lips.
“You’re welcome.” he said, his tone soft.
They just laid like that, facing each other, Ronan’s arm draped over her body. Mandy dozed a little at one point, waking a bit later with a start.
“Are you ok?” he asked.
“Nightmare.” she said. “That’s all. I’ve been having them.”
“It’s okay, Manda. I’ve got you now.” he said, smiling.
“Thank you.” she whispered, snuggling into him.
He moved his hand, using it to gently lift her chin to look at him. “You’re welcome.”
They lay like that longer, being close; being comfortable, as they waited for dawn. As the sleepiness crept in, she mumbled another thank you. Ronan smiled, and was the last to succumb to sleep.
“Love you too.” he mumbled, as sleep claimed him.