The bill came due much sooner then I had expected.
The Silent Street Kin demanded repayment and I personally owed them.
To refuse would weaken Clan Percival, and spoil and future alliances.
Half of the pack openly detested me and did nothing to hide it, the other half looked to the Alpha for what to do next.
Meeting in the back room of a pub by the waterfront there was no way I couldn’t stand out.
Leather jackets, work jeans, and boots for the guys.
Similar attire for the women, only accented by scarves and red gloves.
And there in the center of it all was a vampire, dressed in a three-piece purple and burgundy suit, wearing a brimmed hat and red tinted sunglasses.
The Alpha was enjoying it.
I would have also in his place.
The pact I had made compelled me to do what he asked, as long as it did not hurt or interfere with clan Percival.
Beyond that anything could be asked, and I had to obey.
That was the agreed-on price.
Just what did the alpha have in mind?
A weapon.
A vampire.
Me.
Something the garou could never do.
Remember, you came to us first.
The first command was to just walk down the street.
Four blocks in total, past some specific shops, and a few pubs.
A few pack members would be walking in front of me, leading me down the street.
The second command would be to open the door when the time was right.
A simple door that could only be opened by a kindred and nobody else.
How I got to the door, that Alpha left that up to me.
I was an unknown in the city, I didn’t even know who the Prince was let alone any of the clans.
It was early in the evening, and certainly not in public, but it quickly became apparent who the clans were based on who noticed.
There was a request to meet on neutral ground, a small park attached to one of the pubs on the block.
Some had asked why vampire was seen with the pack, others wondered what could compel such an alliance.
Or was it something else?
Had they found a way to control them?
I must have been a prisoner, there could be no other explanation as my freedom was negotiated for.
In exchange for my release, a temporary ban on frequenting one of the pubs. The clans agreed, and bided for my release among themselves.
The bid was so low it was insulting, but my freedom was secured.
My new patron, one of the clan Elders wanted to know everything- how I got there, how they had compelled me, and most importantly what I had learned from them.
Numbers, locations, meeting times.
Information they could never gather.
I gave them some of the truth- numbers in the pack, where they met, and what they controlled. I told my conscience it would be compensation for what was coming. I also lied to them, telling them I had no memory of how I got there or to what clan I belonged to, only that I must have been captured from a place far away.
(That was the best way I could explain where I was from and the group had never even heard of my train stop, it was that far up the line.)
Satisfied for the moment, the Elder turned me over to Isadora who would help find a useful place for me.
The first point was my outfit.
It might have been fashionable upstate, or wherever I hailed from, but here in the city it was garish and lacked refinement.
Black and grays, simple and eloquent, tasteful shoes.
A silver ring worn on the thumb.
My hair was also to long, the wig had to go.
It wasn’t a wig.
Over the next few session I watched and listened, as this was also an opportunity for clan Percival, a chance to see a different way to approach things, a different interpretation of the rules that bound us all.
Isadora was impressed, if one could say that from her lack of emotion, at how I seemed to know my place. I was quiet and reserved and took her lead, as opposed to trying to gain prestige or start staking any territory.
I countered with how could I, as I didn’t remember anything.
As my handler, she could remake me in any image I see fit, except the hair.
And she let me know that remake me she would.
I was going to be her currency.
At first it was simple tasks.
Fetch something for her.
Hold open a door.
Sit behind her and be silent.
As I became more commonplace and taken for granted in the clan, my role expanded.
She would sit at the table with the other kindred, talking about plans, about the other clans, and then would excuse herself for a moment.
I would remain at the table, the seat set behind her, silent and never saying a word.
Amazed at who would speak about her openly with me sitting there.
We made a good team.
Isadora wanted her own clan, and slowly she was building up a base of who was sympathetic to her, or at the least who was game for a change, and it was with this task that I helped her compile a list for when she was ready to make her move.
She was surprised at how long the list was, how many potential names were on it.
Could it really be this many?
Potential because one truly never knows until the hand is revealed.
What’s this I asked?
A small red boxed pushed before me, with instructions to open it.
Inside was a thin silver ring with a garnet set in the center.
The same one that she wore on her thumb.
I was to wear it, think of it as a gift for when she made her move.
The date and the time was set, a clandestine meeting between Isadora and the dissatisfied on the list, almost thirty in number, enough for a new clan to rise even if half defected.
As always, I stood behind her and just listened.
Promises were made, concessions giving, hierarchy established.
Everybody at the table was vying for an angle, Isadora included, so much so that nobody noticed I was missing.
I was later told that Isadora noticed the silver ring on the table moments before dozen of garou entered the room.
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