Path of the Vampire forum

Gino tensed at her words, though only just. Of course he didn’t want her to get shot, but he was rather hoping she would use her initiative and avoid the situation. The oversight of forgetting to explain the target’s appearance had grated on his nerves somewhat as well. Ordinarily it was enough to simply give out a name and let the rest follow through, but he had forgotten that Isabeau was not like him or his men. He had done everything in his power to shield her from his world and despite whatever suspicions she had, it seemed that he had done a fairly good job at keeping her in the dark. It was both reassuring and terribly frustrating. He brought his left arm up, drawing his sleeve back to check the time; there was enough to go over the basics. Levi was a hot-head, but fortunately for her, he wasn’t known to kill civilians. People who had pissed him off over the years had been known to disappear, but such was life. It could have merely been coincidence, it could have been direct correlation; regardless, Isabeau only had to be careful with her approach and Gino was sure she would be fine. He simply hoped to convey such before he left.

“I will have a photograph sent to you, along with the address of his businesses within the next couple of hours,” Gino said flatly. “If you keep your wits about you, you are unlikely to be harmed, however. I would suggest you not do anything to provoke hostility if you are looking to avoid hostility. For example, do not tell him you know me. If he discovers the connection between us, your mission will finish immediately. Levi is very aware of what kind of a man I am and if he knows I am investigating him, it’s possible that he will simply up and disappear. We are not looking to scare him off. Just... find out what he is up to.”

It was at that point that Gino paused. He wondered whether or not to give her the specifics of what they were looking for. In a way, it would have been more efficient, but the draw backs had him hesitant to reveal such. After all, if she knew what precisely she had to discover then it would be akin to exposing the entirety of their business, confirming her suspicions that her father was indeed Mafioso. Gino couldn’t do such and regardless of the reason – whether it was because he wanted to veil his daughter from the truth for her sake or his own – he refused to do such. Although it would be tiresome for the both of them, Isabeau would have to go in blind. She would learn what she could and report back, rather than being lead in one direction or the other. Besides, if they were to discover something unexpected by this method, it would only be a bonus.

Gino nodded to her words, his face a stoic composition; hard angles and lines and chestnut eyes. He didn’t reply immediately because he wasn’t willing to lead her one way or the other. He had his suspicions, that Levi was in deep with the Japanese consiglieri, Shirosame Hiroumi, but since he had no evidence to speak of, it didn’t seem like it was worth speaking of. All he knew for certain was that they were in communication with one another; how frequently and of what subject couldn’t be determined. This particular consiglieri was a smart one, chiefly skilled in wiping any digital trace of your existence and alternatively, uncovering any trace of your existence. Gino felt he should warn Isabeau if she was planning on giving any false information as it might hamper her progress, but decided not to act. He would trust Isabeau to do this job with her own plan and initiatives rather than micromanaging it himself. If she failed, well it would be unfortunate, but not fatal. He could live with that.

Gino brought his arm up again to check the time, implying that he was very much done with this conversation and had to be on his way. As much as he would have liked to make this a social visit, there were matters he had to attend to. Business, or perhaps his true family, came above his flesh and blood ties. He had convinced himself that keeping Isabeau away from him, away from his way of life was for her own benefit, but there were times that Gino wondered about his true motivations, probably just as she and her mother had done. The fact of the matter was that Gino was not the type to get too caught up in the emotional affairs of people. He could be warm and sociable and fairly loving, but nevertheless detached from them. Almost as if at the flick of a switch, he could shut off his cares and desires and feelings, becoming the perfect killer and strategist. Such a thing was highly valued in Malavita.

“I have to go now,” Gino told her, stepping toward the door and opening it himself. He half-expected her to follow him, nevertheless, he turned back to see her. “It was nice to see you again.” His tone was soft, almost loving. Gino smiled and dropped his head in a bow. “If you need anything,” he said, meeting her eyes again – the smile now vacant. “Just call. I will be looking forward to hearing from you.”

At that, Gino stepped past the threshold and once again, out of her life. He would keep his word to send her the photograph and details once on his way to the airport. What he hadn’t told her was that she would be under surveillance for a while. Of course the phone had a tracker and had been hacked to report all activity. You can’t trust anyone 100%.

It was a busy night. Levitan Logistics had received a flood of orders from new and current clients and Levi was almost having trouble keeping up with them. Shiro had apparently been working his neatly ironed sock off to get all this new business. It wasn’t that Levi was unappreciative of the Japanese man’s efforts, predominantly because he loved the extra income, but it wasn’t exactly a great time for it right now. Levi was still pretty wary about the Patriarca because they’d become suspiciously quiet lately, he knew Gino was probably tracking his every movement and now he had a lot more things and people to be concerned about on the supernatural side of the coin too. CC had declared that he was ‘against her’ and ‘joining the others’ and despite his efforts to starve her of the ******** she was feeding herself with, he was pretty sure he was in danger of having his leg chopped off more than ever before. It seemed like her trademark – blast in out of the blue, cut his leg clean off and then disappear just as quickly. He was tired of her **** and really wished that when she’d said she was done with him that it actually meant that she was done with him. Maybe there had been a time where Levi might have considered cosying up to CC and trying to learn all the **** that she knew, but that time was gone now. He had far too much on his plate, and if she was going to behave like a child, then he was going to refuse to pretend like he gave a damn about her.

Putting his dead-end progress with CC aside, he at least had Prudence and Lorelai to work with. The latter, of course, was a lot easier because not only was she as trusting and vulnerable as a dodo, but she was actually tolerable to him. In fact, Levi could probably admit that he was a bit fond of her. Unlike all the other Vampiri that he had met up to this date, Lorelai was actually giving, sweet, and submissive rather than some dominant marauder – like him. Levi preferred to trade rather than take, however, so when Lorelai offered to provide some kind of supernatural augmentation to his dexterity, he offered to perform some blood services in return. He’d learnt that he could heal others in a way, take away the hunger pains and effectively feed them. Lorelai had mentioned that it was a struggle for her to feed – to take blood from humans or animals – because she had been a vegetarian as a mortal, thus it seemed like the perfect trade-off. The boost to his nimbleness came in remarkably useful and it was probably the only way he was getting by so successfully these nights.

Levi was on the march to Levitan Logistics’ headquarters; coal leather loafers making little sound across the concrete despite the heavy, forceful steps. In his grey English suit and white dress shirt, he seemed to glide through the crowds who’d veered so quickly from his path that it was like a shark swimming amongst sardines. Speaking of sharks, Shiro was waiting for him to go over their new business acquisition from the Luen group of Hong Kong. The word was that these guys – 8,000 members strong – were predominantly focused in human trafficking, so Levi had an idea of the kind of imports they were likely to receive. Levi wasn’t too hot on the idea of buying and selling people like they were commodities, but he couldn’t deny the pay cheques. Besides, at least the Mafia was honest about how they did ****. The world would have you believe that you’re not a commodity, that you’re an individual working toward your individual goals, but it’s all ********. You’re a cash cow regardless of whether you’re selling your body or selling your goods or skills or time. At the end of the day, it always comes down to who has the most cash and most power, so shaking a fist at the Luen Group on ‘moral’ grounds wasn’t going to do anyone any favours. It wasn’t like these people were unstoppable, but doing so cost too much, which was why people like the Luen Group and people like Levi got away with the **** they did.

Levi wasn’t exactly on a time limit, but he was feeling a little stressed at the fact that he wasn’t working to Shiro’s expectations. It wasn’t like he was afraid of the man-eater, just that he didn’t enjoy listening to the ****** complain and groan about him not being on time. Levi was adamant that he worked to his schedule and no one else’s, and yet, there he was checking the time. Just as he brought his arm up and his umber browns down to the glistening watch’s façade, he was caught on the elbow by some passing idiot. He should have known better than to let stupid people walk into him, but at least he wasn’t going to let them get a grab at any of his belongings. Levi stepped in the opposite direction, though kept his elbow in its place like a barrier between him and the fucktard. He heard an exclamation as he pin-pointed their features, quickly noting that it was some bimbo that either wasn’t looking where she was going, or, wanted his wallet/keys/phone. He wasn’t about to let this ***** get anywhere near him and he scowled at her as she made a song and dance out of dropping her phone, though wasn’t even half as enthusiastic with her apology. He didn’t give her a response, however, just a grumble before continuing around her on his way back to his place of work.

Levi Damico | Another PC | Easy | Reactionary/Awareness | Isabeau St Martin | Intercept thievery | Succeeded

To say that Bo was shocked would be a mild understatement. From the way others she knew had acted in the past, they would have come at her, bitched, whined, whatever. This guy? A grumble? Really? She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Clearly he wasn't as big of an *** as her father had made him out to be... or that her mind had... still, with him walking away, people still on the streets, making it easy for her to blend in, she turned, forgetting the phone that lay broken on the ground. No, she followed at a fairly sizable distance. Far enough away that it would be clear that she wasn't following while close enough to keep him just in sight.

This way she hoped that she could make sure that she could find at least one of his places of business, perhaps even find a way in if she could. First though, she had to follow him, had to make sure that she knew where this guy was at least a little bit of the time. Then she would see how she would go about getting close to the guy. Maybe someone else, someone closer to him, would be able to let her in. But first... she had to follow, had to find him. She stayed far away, her keen eyes not letting him out of her sight. At least she hoped that it was still him that she was following. Otherwise finding this information for her father was going to be a lot harder than she made it out to be.

That idea was a little depressing, but she didn't let it show outwardly. She never let her feelings show outwardly, or at least she tried. But if she disappointed her father, well.. it was a depressing thought, but one that she knew was in the cards. Depressing him. The only man left in her life that she cared what he thought. Well then that would just suck.

As he came within sight and shadow of the Levitan command center, which housed both Levitan Logistics and Levitan Consultancy, Levi paused and stubbed out another cigarette. The building itself appeared ordinary; it was just another modern high-rise protruding into the heavens like a finger of profanity or praise – he couldn’t actually tell which. The problem, however, was that there was a big old car parked outside; a dark grey BMW X5 with tinted windows and a growling engine. Its presence suggested that someone was about to arrive or disembark, but Levi had his money on the latter. He picked up the pace, moving off from the main pavement and toward the building’s entrance between rows of skeletal magnolia trees to see three burly men escorting a smaller Japanese man toward the vehicle. Shiro looked princely tonight; he was wearing a slim navy suit and a long indigo coat, and his black hair flowed down the length of his back in an elegant braid. Levi rolled his eyes and called out to get Shiro’s attention, stopping everyone in their tracks and forcing rows of sharp black eyes onto him.

“Giovanotto. You leaving?”

“ I’ve had enough of waiting for you to decide to turn up,” chided Shiro; his voice as remarkably feminine as his appearance. “And don’t call me ‘youngster’.”

“Well, if the tiny shoes fit…” Levi challenged with a smirk.

Shiro was the one to roll his eyes this time and he continued to the back seat of the awaiting vehicle; the door having been held open for him by one of his stooges. Levi didn’t like how he’d been brushed off like that and, not being one to care for trivialities like respecting people you didn’t know and people you assume you’re better than anyway, he forced himself through the burly men to stand in the way of the closing door. The man who was about to close the door gave him a glare, but Levi shot one back. They would have been in a stalemate for some time if Shiro hadn’t called his attack dogs off with one quick mutter of Japanese. Umber eyes then turned inquisitively back to Shiro, not that those obsidian eyes were particularly glistening with enthusiasm. He leant his forearm on the roof of the car and moved in a little to make their conversation a tad more private.

“So should I assume that, because you’re leaving, that this **** ain’t as important as you made out originally?” Levi’s voice was usually low and deep, but when he pushed for discreetness, it would take on a seductive, purring quality. “I mean, if it was important, you would be up there waiting on me rather than fleeing to wherever it is you go when you have to throw a tantrum.”

“Levi. You seem to have me confused with someone who has time to burn, not to mention endless patience. If you decide that you might want to answer your phone within the next couple of days, however, then maybe we’ll try it again. But until that time, I have to get back to my own responsibilities…”

There was a moment of tension between the two where Levi wasn’t sure if Shiro was genuinely pissed at him or putting on a show. It wasn’t an easy distinction to make since the Japanese man was always throwing his words around and blasting Levi with insults. The fact that he’d kept his tone straight and low was probably a sign that he was serious, however, and that thought didn’t sit right with the angry Italian. Levi frowned and stepped away from the car, letting Shiro’s goon have his space to close the door at last. He was left staring at his reflection, noticing how tired he looked and realizing for the first time in a while how tired he actually was – despite magical enchantments. Levi didn’t say anything more to Shiro and neither did he have the time or feel the need to as the car pulled away. He glanced back to the building, but didn’t feel like working anymore either. There was no point in it anyway; he couldn’t focus, not now. There was a strange feeling in his chest and it didn’t mix well with the heat rising through him – he just felt hot and weird. He needed a drink.

There was a bar up the road, just a short walk from his place of work – not that he’d planned that or anything – so Levi decided to make that his destination for the remainder of the night. It was rare that he had a night off, some time to himself, and since he didn’t feel like heading back to his apartment or being around people who might ask something stupid of him, it made sense to head to the bar and drown out this inactivity and weird feeling. The bar across the road was small as far as bars are concerned, but that didn’t put him off. The close atmosphere would probably let him relax and the place served alcohol, so that’s all he really needed. It was about 9pm, it was the beginning of the week, so when he stomped his way inside, it didn’t come as much of a surprise that the only other customers were a couple of old guys seated at the far end of the bar counter, mumbling to themselves about their wives and work. Levi sat himself down at the opposite side of the bar to try and keep his distance, but his hearing wouldn’t relent. Every now and again the mumbles became shouts and jeers, the bartender ignored the old men, but Levi watched them with vague recognition. If not for this Vampiri curse, he would probably have ended up just like them: alone, insane, always drunk, sitting in the corner of a bar with only the voices in his head for company. Come to think of it, it probably wasn’t entirely out of the realms of possibility for him; just it would last for an eternity now and never end.

“You need a drink, pal?” the bartender asked, drawing him out of his brooding.

“Would I be in a bar if I didn’t?” Levi shot back, though didn’t really expect anything more than what he got: a roll of the shoulders. “Scotch, no ice.”

“Right you are,” the man said again and turned to fix the drink.

Levi noticed that despite the gentleman’s height, he seemed incredibly young-looking. He had that kind of baby face – one just born to the world and knowing no hardships at all. He didn’t look like he belonged in this environment, like he hadn’t been spoiled yet and should get out while he could. Something about his clean-cut look and positive personality made Levi wonder why this guy was here, like what circumstances would make him end up serving drinks at a small pub in the middle of nowhere. Levi wasn’t really one for small-talk, but when the bartender put down his drink, he felt the need to say something.

“You even old enough to serve alcohol?”

The man flashed a winning smile. “I turn 22 next week.”

Levi unrolled a couple of bills, a lot more than what was required, and put them on the counter. “Buon compleanno,” he muttered.

“Sorry?”

“Happy Birthday.”

“Oh, well, thank you.”

He put the right amount into the register and pocketed the rest; blue eyes looking between what he was doing and glancing across to Levi who hadn’t wasted much time to test the Scotch. Maybe because Levi had started talking to him, he was quick to drum up some conversation.

“So, you’re Italian then?”

Umber eyes flicked across to the younger man who was interrupting his drinking and moping pattern. “Used to be,” he grumbled.

The quizzical look on the man’s face was rather amusing, though and without it, Levi would have been absorbed in a sulking party of one and that wasn’t entirely entertaining. As much as he liked to complain and groan and shout, he didn’t like moping.

“What do you mean ‘used to be’? Can you just stop being Italian or something?” the bartender asked.

“Feels like it. Haven’t been home in a long time.”

“Well why not?”

“Got too much **** to do.”

“Oh. So where you from? That accent isn’t Canadian.”

“Boston… Originally Verona.”

“I dunno where that is,” the bartender admitted, raising an arm over the back of his head as if to scratch his neck nervously.

“Verona or Boston?” Levi mocked, putting his empty glass down. “Verona’s in Northern Italy, pretty much smack-dab between Venice and Milan. Do you need me to draw you a diagram?”

“Nah, I got it.” The bartender gave a nod and a half-smile, clearly trying to be polite despite how it must have burned him to be patronised like that. “You need another?”

“Sure.”

The glass was refilled, the bill paid, and then an awkward silence settled in. Maybe because he was young or new to this job and maybe because Levi wasn’t being particularly talkative or nice, the young man was a little hesitant to start up a conversation. Levi was on his third drink by the time the bartender had something new to say.

“So it is a woman?”

“Is what a woman?”

“Is it a woman that’s making you drink like this?”

Levi wanted to reply with a lecture; like how did this shithead know his drinking habits and did he really have the right to ask a stranger that kind of question. It was something he would have done to his hapless peons if they’d ever asked him a question as stupid as that. As it was, however, Levi saw the opportunity to pretend he wasn’t Mafia for one night; just some ordinary fool drinking his problems away. The plan gave him a feeling of peace; a feeling he was starving for. There was no real reason to be his regular annoying self tonight.

“Something like that,” he said evasively, though obviously it meant ‘ask away’.

“It’s complicated, huh?”

“It’s always complicated.”

“So who’s making it complicated?” he asked, leaning on the counter and getting stuck into the gossip. Levi glared at him, making the boy straighten up. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Levi wasn’t sure he wanted to answer because he hadn’t really figured it out for himself yet. Umber eyes stared into the honey-coloured liquor as if he was searching for his lost soul. In just a few moments, Levi sighed, emptied his drink and rolled back his shoulders, preparing himself to ‘reveal all’ before he changed his mind at the last moment.

“I think I need more booze in me before I start talking about that,” he said with a sneer.

The bartender was happy to fill that order.

Another glass was emptied and refilled the moment it hit the counter. The bartender, who it turned out was called Russell, was talking to Levi like they’d grown up together. By now Levi had forgotten himself, forgotten the number of drinks he’d had, and was casually chatting and sipping the night away. There was a warm feeling at his core, rising to his extremities and giving them a fuzzy edging. He felt fairly relaxed, not as anxious as before, and not feeling the need to hold back anything. Levi had told the bartender about Lorelai and the **** he was dealing with concerning Prudence and CC without naming any names and without marking at the specifics. The guy didn’t need to know that he’d just recently lost another limb because his sire was a complete psychopath. All Russell needed to hear was that Levi was surrounded by crazy women and when he wasn’t surrounded by them, he was surrounded by sharks and piranha. He didn’t often refer to his Family as being piranha, but with the way they were chewing at his patience lately, it seemed apt. It wasn’t until a group of youngsters walked in, upsetting the closed feel of the place, that Levi sobered up enough to realise how he was behaving. He slowed his drinking pace, set a glare on the group of young men which had started a noisy game of pool, and then turned back to Russell.

“Didn’t think there were any colleges close by,” he commented with a grumble.

Russell shrugged his shoulders. “All types come and go.” He paused and Levi heard the door swing open again before another set of footsteps made their way to the others. “We even get the occasional hottie,” he said grinning, his eyes clearly focused on some piece of arse that had walked in.

Levi didn’t bother to turn and look. He was drunk, but he wasn’t that drunk. And besides, Russell didn’t look like he had taste. He was a kid after all and those hungry eyes were drawn to easy prey and drawn to prey easily. To say that Levi wasn’t your typical bloke was definitely an understatement. He was a businessman first and foremost with a lust for power and money rather than women. Women were nuisances anyway; perceptive nuisances who weren’t happy when you were lying to them, but were perfectly happy to lie to you. Levi didn’t have the time to deal with all that crap, not when he had legitimate business, illegitimate business and this Vampiri business to deal with. It wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t occurring all at the same damn time or if he had some extra hours at his disposal. When he was Human he didn’t need to sleep this much, but somehow turning into a creature of the night meant forsaking sunlight entirely. When dawn came, he became comatose, which sunk around nine hours of his life a day into a pit that he could never reclaim.

The thought of becoming a victim of torpor again made Levi check his watch nervously. He’d only been sat at the bar for an hour or so, yet it didn’t feel like it. A flicker of movement caught Levi’s eye and he turned his head marginally to watch a girl move behind the bar – probably a waitress. She stopped to whisper something in Russell’s ear making Levi frown because he could have sworn that the pair of them had glanced in his direction. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have given two shits about some bar staff sharing in a secret, but when that secret seemed to involve him, it made him pretty agitated. Once she was done whispering sweet nothings into Russell’s ear, she disappeared behind him toward the register. Levi couldn’t see what she was doing back there, but he could hear the register ching and clang as she was depositing some notes. He didn’t notice that he had leant over to get a better look at what she was doing until Russell brought his attention to a fresh bottle of whisky and he found himself sitting back straight on the barstool to look at him.

“Here. Try this. You strike me as the kind of guy who likes an aged whisky,” Russell said cheerily as he uncorked the bottle.

Levi inspected the bottle in the man’s hands as he tilted it to pour. The light danced in the liquor behind the label, dazzling him for a moment with varying tones of red and gold, but he managed to pull himself away long enough to examine the brand. It wasn’t a brand he recognised, nor a young whisky – aged twelve years – and it had an impressive alcohol percentage of forty-three. Levi didn’t have anything to say until the caramel coloured liquor was poured into his glass and pushed toward him.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked, dark brows knitted into a frown.

“Oh nothing,” the young man said, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

Levi regarded the drink like he’d just been served a tumbler of bleach, trying to keep the growl in. “Uh huh,” he managed bitterly.

“Can’t just accept a gift, can ya.” Russell was rolling his eyes and smirking to himself.

“Gifts ain’t exactly something I expect to get.”

The comment, which was perfectly reasonable from how Levi understood it, struck the bartender as odd. Being young, he couldn’t conceal the emotion and gawked at the guarded Italian. “How come? You a lawyer or something?”

Levi quirked a brow; he couldn’t be sure if that was an insult or not. “Not exactly.”

“So what do you do? You look like the white-collar sort.”

Levi was now the one rolling his eyes.

“If it makes you feel any better, the drink’s from a pretty girl.”

“You and I have different definitions of ‘pretty’ I would think.”

“Well take a look and see for yourself,” Russell said and pointed into the crowd of males to single out the only other woman in the bar besides the waitress.

Levi sighed, but shifted in his seat to look the girl over after all. He gave her maybe a split-second glance. Brown hair tumbled over the shoulder of an athletic body which was dressed to thrill; blue eyes hooded under heavy make-up. For all intents and purposes, she was pretty, but Levi identified her as some young idiot bent over the pool table with too much flesh on display. He disregarded her, his interests moved to the crowd she was associating with, to the men he’d given a very prominent glare to when they’d walked in. He wasn’t sure if they’d seen him and at the time, didn’t give a **** either, but if they were going to have drinks sent his way, then they had a problem. Worst of all was the notion that this girl was somehow playing peace-keeper or just wanted every male’s invested interest. Levi didn’t need to play peacefully with some snot-nosed little bastards who barely had the intelligence to use a handkerchief over their own sleeves. He also didn’t like to be under the thumb of pretentious little whores – he’d had enough of that from his Vampiri associates.

Finally turning back to Russell, Levi grumbled. “Yep. Totally different definitions. You should keep the drinks for yourself or send em back.” He stood up and paid the remainder of his bill, feeling remarkably stable on his feet as if the rage had burned off the alcohol in his blood. “Oh, and by the way, I don’t expect gifts because I don’t accept gifts,” he murmured, dropping the man a polite nod. “Buonasera, Russell.”

“Uh, ciao…”

Levi was out the door within a couple of strides, but far from turning tail and leaving, he decided to prop himself up against the wall on the corner of the building. Masking himself in the shadows, though only figuratively because he wasn’t imploring any of his supernatural gifts, Levi decided he would hang out for a little while. He kept his eyes on the mouth of the alley to see if anyone was going to follow him out and as he waited, he lit up a cigarette.