His voice flickered back as some electro gothic swing song quieted just enough to hear.
“Sorry for slipping away, listeners, you will never believe who was just here. Remember a few years ago, we had a bit of…interesting visitor. He was tall and dark and had a sense of being handsome, though the gold chains did nothing for him.”
Stephen leaned into the microphone, taking up a flute of still warm blood. He pressed his tongue to a fang, letting his mouth fill with his own blood. “I called him the Lone Shadow Wolf at the time. And what he wanted was a ghastly yet, terribly interesting affair. Some way to capture memories of a kine memories, perhaps through a domination of the mind, to see again. We toyed with many different ideas, and frankly, I was hooked with curiosity.”
His hands fanned into jazz hands just remembering it as if yesterday. Victor was his real name, and his pack along with, and that yummy ghoul. A pity, because Stephen did enjoy nibbling on men and women that kept themselves fit to the point of busting seems if they flexed. The more the exercise, the better the taste. Or so is doctor told him. Even vampires needed to watch their diet.
“We attempted a variation on the Path of Spirit within a thrice canted circle. Oh, so much blood was used, and really we were fit to be tied to try it. But the only kine available was that hunk. I’ll call him…Edwin. He looks like an Edwin.” He tilted back the blood, continuing on. “There we were, my robed friends in semicircle, Lone Shadow Wolf, Edwin, and their pack in opposite. But we outnumbered them. And well…they did bring the books…and the expensive magical ingredients…soooo we weren’t about to let something liiiike…agreements keep us from indulging.”
He glanced up to a bright halo of light shining down on his desk and laptop. “While my friends rushed them, I already tendriled magic to snare Edwin. All I wanted was a nice chat, maybe a taste of blood. I thought certainly someone like him had amazing memories to discuss and pluck free. Unfortunately, a few of my friends, who are no longer among the unliving, frenzied. They nearly drained him dry there on the spot.”
“I remember telling Lone Shadow Wolf to embrace the dear lad. It was that or kill him. Nothing else could save him. By the treatise of Phendric, I never thought I would see him again. I offered to help him, hide his memory of the painful event with our new ritual. But Lone Shadow Wolf would have not—”
Explosions rocked into the building, shaking and shattered stone, cement and wood alike. Stephen tossed far against and through a wall. He landed in a fluttering of clothing on fire, the screams and wails of his kindred brethren. Squelching down his fear and fright, the Tremere fought through the remains and still falling cement to stare at the bent ironwork. The heavy rituals kept them from the brunt of the explosion, but not entirely unscathed. Soon even the Camarilla would know what was on the 18th floor of the Frost building.
Digging through the showering remains of his sleeping chamber, he found the blue tooth headset. “Hello? Primogen, yes. So…everything exploded and is on fire. We have a bit of a…situation?”
He wished he could sigh, and hoped this wasn’t some form of retribution for helping save Edwin’s life.