Lancaster had to wonder why the people in this city did not know about vampires already. The things they would have witnessed only to dismiss. Why were they so insistent on dismissing everything? In this very bar, an alpha fadebeast had risen to rip and lash at any vampiric occupant it could find. An ordinary fadebeast had prompted a very sudden evacuation. Everyone was so concerned about keeping the Quarantine Zone and the Catacombs under wraps, but who was trying to keep these ******* fadebeasts under control?
Lancaster had previously engaged in a duel with Roderic – a personal duel agreed on by bother parties, and yet Lancaster had been killed for the way he had crippled the guy. The faction that he belonged to did not care what was personal and what wasn’t. They hunted down any who hurt their own – and any who broke the Masquerade. And here was one of their precious members, lashing out in public, causing a scene for all to witness. Three people slashed, blood pumping from their immortal bodies. Wounds that could or should be fatal and yet they were all still standing.
Murmurs of concern had risen; a hush had fallen over the pub as news of the incident spread through the crowd like wildfire. Lancaster’s outburst at the door drew attention to him, and it followed him right back to the girls. At least those who worked at the pub were savvy to the existence of vampires; they knew that their boss was one of them. He treated them right. He treated them better than right. He went above and beyond when they were sick and was lenient when they needed time off. He helped them with personal issues; gave money to those who’d lost houses in the earthquake the year before. They knew what he was and did not judge him for it; instead, they flew into action. They calmed the crowd and tried to avert their attention – Jessica, behind the counter, stood on the bar and rivalled someone straight out of Coyote Ugly. The music changed and was blasted, free drinks were offered, the crowd cheered in delight.
It was Elliot’s job to reassure those closest to them; those who could see the blood. Shadis had already started toward the stairs. Elliot gently grasped Charlotte’s arm, winding his hand around her shoulders, pulling her in close as he followed in Shadis’s footsteps. Blood smeared the floor, dripping from all three of them. A quick glance over his shoulder allowed Elliot to catch Jessica’s eye – he glanced at the floor and silently pleaded with her. She just winked and gave him a thumbs up. She would take care of it. She would clean it up. She was already barking orders to one of the other barkeeps. ”Mop. Water. STAT.”
It was the finest example of employees returning the favour.
They’d caught up to Shadis by the time they reached the stairs. Lancaster pushed past the both of them so he could lead the way up to the attic. Did Charlie even know that it was there? That was where he’d been living for the past few weeks? She’d probably come to work on so many occasions not realising that her adoptive sire was drinking himself into a stupor above her head. But, there was nothing like a shadow-skewer through the shoulder to sober a person up. Quick smart.
They left a trail of blood through the backpackers, too, and up the stairs to the attic. As soon as they were inside, he locked the door behind him. Forehead slamming against the wood a couple of times before his wits returned to him. His fingers closed over the wound on his shoulder; blood wasn’t pouring just from the front, but from the back, too. Another shirt, ruined. What else was new? That could have gone better. Lancaster knew that. He could have been civil – but Roderic was the one who’d started with the insults, the rudeness of tone. But it was done, now. No take-backs.
”Skylar’s not around,” he said, glancing between them. He figured they gathered as much. ”Ric’s’n asshole. Always has been, in my opinion,” he said. It was a very long story made short, for Shadis’s benefit. ”…I’ll get the first aid,” he said as he shuffled toward the corner of the attic that acted as bathroom; there was a sink there, and a cupboard within which he kept the supplies.
Lancaster had previously engaged in a duel with Roderic – a personal duel agreed on by bother parties, and yet Lancaster had been killed for the way he had crippled the guy. The faction that he belonged to did not care what was personal and what wasn’t. They hunted down any who hurt their own – and any who broke the Masquerade. And here was one of their precious members, lashing out in public, causing a scene for all to witness. Three people slashed, blood pumping from their immortal bodies. Wounds that could or should be fatal and yet they were all still standing.
Murmurs of concern had risen; a hush had fallen over the pub as news of the incident spread through the crowd like wildfire. Lancaster’s outburst at the door drew attention to him, and it followed him right back to the girls. At least those who worked at the pub were savvy to the existence of vampires; they knew that their boss was one of them. He treated them right. He treated them better than right. He went above and beyond when they were sick and was lenient when they needed time off. He helped them with personal issues; gave money to those who’d lost houses in the earthquake the year before. They knew what he was and did not judge him for it; instead, they flew into action. They calmed the crowd and tried to avert their attention – Jessica, behind the counter, stood on the bar and rivalled someone straight out of Coyote Ugly. The music changed and was blasted, free drinks were offered, the crowd cheered in delight.
It was Elliot’s job to reassure those closest to them; those who could see the blood. Shadis had already started toward the stairs. Elliot gently grasped Charlotte’s arm, winding his hand around her shoulders, pulling her in close as he followed in Shadis’s footsteps. Blood smeared the floor, dripping from all three of them. A quick glance over his shoulder allowed Elliot to catch Jessica’s eye – he glanced at the floor and silently pleaded with her. She just winked and gave him a thumbs up. She would take care of it. She would clean it up. She was already barking orders to one of the other barkeeps. ”Mop. Water. STAT.”
It was the finest example of employees returning the favour.
They’d caught up to Shadis by the time they reached the stairs. Lancaster pushed past the both of them so he could lead the way up to the attic. Did Charlie even know that it was there? That was where he’d been living for the past few weeks? She’d probably come to work on so many occasions not realising that her adoptive sire was drinking himself into a stupor above her head. But, there was nothing like a shadow-skewer through the shoulder to sober a person up. Quick smart.
They left a trail of blood through the backpackers, too, and up the stairs to the attic. As soon as they were inside, he locked the door behind him. Forehead slamming against the wood a couple of times before his wits returned to him. His fingers closed over the wound on his shoulder; blood wasn’t pouring just from the front, but from the back, too. Another shirt, ruined. What else was new? That could have gone better. Lancaster knew that. He could have been civil – but Roderic was the one who’d started with the insults, the rudeness of tone. But it was done, now. No take-backs.
”Skylar’s not around,” he said, glancing between them. He figured they gathered as much. ”Ric’s’n asshole. Always has been, in my opinion,” he said. It was a very long story made short, for Shadis’s benefit. ”…I’ll get the first aid,” he said as he shuffled toward the corner of the attic that acted as bathroom; there was a sink there, and a cupboard within which he kept the supplies.
