"Indeed!" Abbadon raised his glass briefly and took a thirsty gulp, letting his acquired manners fall by the wayside. With the time he had spent running errands on top of his early evening rituals, he had not yet had time to feed and the thirst was beginning to overwhelm him. He gaze drooped momentarily to his glass as he savored the bouquet, but quickly reverted his attention to William and quirked his eyebrow. His brow furrowed, his emotions showing on his sleeves. "This is deeply troubling news, my friend," he began, glancing to his sire to gauge her response. "But... I believe we shall be able to turn this to our advantage." He paused momentarily, gathering his thoughts. "It would be unseemly for us to attempt to defend them--or even to warn them without a good reason. Tell me, William: who has our goodly Sheriff recruited for this dirty work? I am often a prime candidate and have, as yet, heard naught of it."

"For what it is worth, and it is worth quite a good deal,"William paused here to give Cardea and Abbadon knowing looks, "the Sheriff himself is unaware of the matter until he returns from his errand in the countryside." William eyed his glass as he swirled the contents and for a moment or two there was silence in the library. What William had to say next disturbed him greatly and he didn't relish having to share such information with Abbadon and Cardea - not because he didn't trust them but because he knew them and knew what an opportunity this would present for them. Abbadon had been eyeing the seat reserved for the Brujah Primogen for years. Privately, of course, with none but William himself and his Sire Cardea knowing so but, still, he coveted it like no other.

"Your good friend Charles is the one who lead the ruckus and called for the Final Death of the cult members. The Prince was most disturbed but there was naught he could do to sway the council members after Charles had said his piece."

From IM between C.Z. and S.L.:

Abbadon:

Abbadon face remained stoic, but his thoughts were in an uproar. Coward, he thought. That fool of a Brujah was only afraid of the power the cultists wield in the form of knowledge. A look of disgust passed briefly over his face, but he was quick to suppress it. "I see no reason to protect the unlives of these cultists in particular. Unless one of you have some attachment to them...?"

Cardea:

"I have no attachment to the unlives of these cultists.. but." She paused and for a moment remained thoughtfully silent. "I wouldn't mind having an attachment to their materials," she continued on. "Perhaps.. a warning would not be amiss."

William:

Ah, the two Brujah were scheming and William knew how he wanted it to end - with a larger library of the occult. He wouldn't have been able to manage this on his own but with Cardea and Abbadon? It became a serious possibility. "It would be entirely possible to make copies as well. For sharing, of course, with one another."

Abbadon:

A wolfish grin spread slowly across Abbadon's face. "If ever there were three kindred with more ambition, I haven't met them." He paused to smooth over his demeanor and continued. "I like the way you two think. A warning certainly should be in order, but how do we avoid the suspicion of the cultists? I think we must ask for something in return for this information. After they have been destroyed, we will be free to take what we want from them, but what information could we use? Any thoughts?"

William AND Cardea:

William almost snorted in derision and a peal of laughter rang out through the library from Cardea. "It's simple, my childre, we will trade the information of the impending attack for whatever common, bottom wrung lore they have." Cardea smiled mockingly at Abbadon and said to him in particular, "You're much smarter than this, you know." William could only nod and voiced his assent for the idea, "Cardea is correct in this, Abbadon. On both accounts."

Abbadon:

"While it is true that requesting information that we already have would avoid revealing ourselves for what we are." He ran a finger along his jawline ponderously. "It may be of more use to us to find a way to contact someone... above their pay grade, as it were." He smiled faintly, the possibilities unfolding in his mind. "The cult founder, perhaps? We all know these cults don't pop up on their own--someone organized it and moved along."

Cardea:

It was a good point and there's little gain in life if you're not willing to take risks. With that in mind, Cardea replied to Abbadon's suggestion with, "You are entirely correct, Abbadon." She sat up properly in the chair and leaned forward with her chin resting on her interlaced fingers. "Who will go? We won't have long before the Sheriff returns and the mission is set in stone."

William:

William smiled. "That is true, Abbadon. Perhaps there's more to gain in going after the bigger fish." For a moment William sat in silence as if pondering something deathly serious. "I just hope the big fish doesn't have repeats his library of what I already own."

Abbadon:

Abbadon chuckles quietly as the others give their approval to the plan. "Now that that is settled," he began. "Who will go? I, of course, cannot as we can't afford to have them recognize me if and when I and send with the war party." His eyes pan over to William. "That leaves us few enough options."

William:

"I can see where you're going with this. After all is it not my natural role within the Masquerade to be the trader of information?" He casually took a sip from the glass of blood he still held in his hand. "I'll go on the morrow and see to the matter myself; a day ought to give them enough time for them to get their act together. I know the Sheriff is scheduled to return two nights from now."

Cardea:

"Well then! It seems as though we have decided. Let us adjourn."

The sun was just beginning to rise in the east and within the manor a soft chiming could be heard. As the sun rose the chiming would increase in sound until it became the ringing of the bells that signified the sun had risen above horizon completely and day had begun. Hearing that chiming begin Cardea turned to William. "I think, William, it may be best for you to spend the day with us. Your room is ready for you as always."

With that they all went to their separate rooms.

(( There will be a time skip here; Abbadon will meet with the Prince and be sent to meet with the Sheriff while William will forewarn the cult members. ))

(( Let's continue with the ambush and forget trying to write up Abbadon and William's individual posts. ))

"Hello, Charles." Abbadon practically spat the words at him, the derision in his voice evident as he approached the group, the flapping of his long coat restricted by the assault rifle he carried slung over one shoulder. "I see you found some goons on your wavelength."

"These 'goons' are your clan brothers, Abbadon, and I would thank you to show a little respect," Charles retorted.

"I give respect to those who earn it." He continued his approach until he was uncomfortably close to the enormous Brujah. "I know how you got your seat on the Primogen council. It certainly wasn't for your smarts," he added with a grin, malice in his eyes.

"I--" Charles' face flushed red, as red as kindred could manage, and bit his tongue quickly. His nostrils flared and he breathed deeply, his rage showing in his widened eyes.

Abbadon smirked coolly, his work already done. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to wait for the Sheriff's posse. Are you afraid those cultists are too much for you three? Although... perhaps caution would be best." Abbadon nodded sympathetically. "After all, fear is only... human." His eyes flashed, the presence in his voice and in his gaze stirring up a number of conflicting emotions within the Primogen

Charles made a sound akin to a growl and stormed off towards the coven's haven. "Come on, you two. Let's do this."

Abbadon grinned wolfishly, fighting the urge to chuckle. "Everything is falling into place."

((Will continue this soon.))

----------

Abbadon was leaning against a brick wall in an alley when the Sheriff arrived, a goodly number of Ventrue and a single Tremere in tow. "Where are the others, Abbadon? Have they not arrived yet?"

"Alas, no," he began, his charade of panic beginning. "I told them to wait, but they wouldn't listen. They went on ahead--I can only assume they intended to take on the entire cult by themselves. How could they be so foolish!"

The sheriff curses under his breath. "Alright, calm down. Look, let's just hurry. Do you know the way?"

Abbadon gave him an insulted look. "Of course." With that, he readied his rifle and bolted off, being careful not to let celerity add any additional fleetness to his feet.

--

The group turned a corner and what met their eyes was an ambush going exactly as planned. The cultists, of mixed clan, had made quick enough work of the Brujah group and one, presumably the leader, struck the final blow to bring gruesome death to the Brujah Primogen.

One of the Ventrue gasped, but Abbadon had been preparing for this moment for days. He knelt quickly and, steadying his rifle against his shoulder, opened fire upon the group, incendiary rounds falling upon their fragile, inhuman bodies like molten rain. The body count doubled with that one hard volley, and the groups charged towards each other. The Ventrue bullyboys hardened their skins with the power of fortitude and, slinging the rifle once more over his shoulder, Abbadon's muscles bulged with Potence.

From that point, the brawl was a blur. Abbadon pushed aside blades and wooden stakes and retaliated with crushing blows to organs vital even to the strongest kindred. In what seemed like only moment, Abbadon and the Ventrue attachment, panting and bleeding, brought final death to the last cultist. Abbadon glanced at the Sheriff. "Was that all of them?"

"The body count matches up, but we'll be sure one way or another." The sheriff gestured to the Tremere and grimaced. "Let's keep moving."

Cardea and William had not been idle during the ambush. No, they had traversed the treacherous territory of the Nosferatu - the underground labyrinth of sewers - only to pop up a street from the headquarters of the cult. With them came Cardea's ghoul and two of William's ghouls to help carry out in a single load all of the most important books and papers. Everything was going according to plan until a single cultist, left by the others to guard the headquarters, stumbled upon the two vampires and their human servants.

"Well, shit," muttered William, and he nodded to Cardea who took that as her cue to attack the cultist. In moments the cultist had been staked and lay on the floor bleeding out of the large wound in his chest. "The Tremere's attack will take care of him," Cardea said to William.

"Let's finish up here then."

--

Back at the safe house Cardea and William awaited Abbadon's return. William had dismissed his ghouls and Thomas, Cardea's ghoul, was helping them take stock of the newest additions to their combined libraries. "I can have copies made of these within the month," William was saying to Cardea as Abbadon entered the room.

The war party at last approached the coven's haven, any remaining vestiges of caution flung to the wind.

"Let's get this over with," the Sheriff intoned.

With that, the Tremere thaumaturge approached the property, examining it briefly. It was a medium sized warehouse, undoubtedly home to innumerable forbidden tomes. He fantasized briefly about plundering its depths, but quickly ruled the thought out. It not like he was alone. Within moments, he began was could only be described as a dance. A slow, bouncing dance that brought the wizard turning circles about the building, a less-than-subtle mimicry of flames.

The Ventrue company, and Abbadon with them, began to grow impatient as the Tremere's dance came full circle. The Sheriff made to say something, but, before his mouth could form the syllables, the warehouse, and all else within the circle of dance, erupted into a fifty foot high pyre. The flames died quickly, but their work was begun. Several Ventrue gasped and everyone's breathing quickened. They were in no danger, but fire was still their greatest enemy, second only to daylight itself. Within moments, the building was blazing merrily and there could be no further chance for escape. The group turned and scattered, fleeing the imminent arrival of law enforcement and fire fighters.

--

Abbadon pulled into the long drive in front of his much-beloved haven and smiled when he spotted the light of the library. He stepped out of the vehicle and let himself inside. He knew Thomas would be busily helping Cardea and William, and he new just where to find them. He poked his head into the large room, having forgotten that his hands and sleeves were coated, still, with gore; a trail of dried, crusty blood tracing a line from a healing wound on his temple. He met the eyes of his sire and smiled warmly. "Good evening."

Cardea returned Abbadon's warm smile with one of her own and gestured to the books and papers spread throughout the library in neat stacks and organized by Thomas' whim. "By the looks of it, Abbadon, you had quite the evening," she said to her successor, "perhaps after you've washed up you may take a gander at the loot William and I ... received this evening." There was laughter in her eyes even as her voice remained calm and even.

--

William glanced up at Abbadon from his place on the floor where he sat cross-legged amid several piles of neatly stacked books. "I don't think I've ever been so happy, my old friend, not since my Sire's gift to me last deathday."

Abbadon was suddenly very aware of exactly how filthy he was. He smirked devilishly. "But of course, Cardea. I will try to be quick, but dawn is fast approaching." All he could do was grin at William. He could certainly understand the sentiment and nearly matched him for enthusiasm.

He then stepped out oif the library, making quick time to his own quarters to bathe and change his clothes. As he disrobed, he noted, with a smirk, several long slashes in his clothes that hadn't quite made contact with his skin. Sometimes, his luck amazed even him. He bathed quickly, the gore sliding easily off of his preternaturally smooth skin, and dressed himself in loose, comfortable clothing.

He made his way back to the library with haste, taking pleasure from the chill of the hardwood floors beneath his unshod feet. He made his way through the doorway and eased himself into a well-padded chair. "Well, what have we here," he inquired with a grin.

Cardea and William worked in companionable silence with Thomas to sort, organize and categorize the books and papers while Abbadon bathed. "Oh, look at this, Cardea," William nearly whispered, "there's a mentioning of the Caitiff here." "What would they have to do with Gehenna?" Cardea sounded perplexed as she replied. "I'm not sure but maybe there'll be more in here."

They both looked up as Abbadon made his re-entrance into the library and took a seat. "Much better, Abbadon," Cardea commented wryly, "I wouldn't have wanted you to drop bits of vampire flesh all over our newest additions to the collection."

Abbadon gave Cardea a chiding look. "You know how careful I am with such valuable documents." It was true, too. In combat, he may be the brute trying to tear you in half, literally, but he understood the importance of a delicate touch and when it was necessary. "Now what's this about the Caitiff and Gehenna?"

"Something about how the harbringer will rise from their number..? But it doesn't match up with what I found in this other document." William sounded pensive and a tab bit annoyed. Still he figured they'd be able to figure it out eventually.

Through the window came the first rays of sunlight as dawn approached and Cardea called out to the other two, "Time for bed, children!" Off to the guest room padded William and to her own room went Cardea leaving Thomas to finish up in the library as he saw fit.

As the others filed out of the library to seek refuge within their respective rooms, Abbadon remained for a moment, watching the eastern sky lighten. When the burning of his eyes and the sensitivity of his skin no longer allowed him to stay, he made of for his own room. Slipping into the comforting darkness of sleep within his coffin, Abbadon could only be pleased with himself. Things had gone exactly according to plan today.

Fin

Cardea, dressed in an ankle length skirt and three-quarters length sleeved top with ankle high boots, sneaks into the library up behind Abbadon who is sitting in their favorite chair reading a book. She throws her arms around his shoulders and purrs into his ear with a mischevious grin, Take me into the city, won't you?

Abbadon bookmarks his page and closes the tome for later. He cranes his neck to look into Cardea's eyes and gave her a warm smile. You know I can't tell you no. He pats her arm and stands, taking a moment to press out the wrinkles in his vest, his sleeves rolled up. He turns and gazes into her blue, blue eyes, happy, for now, that she has decided to spent more time around. Where shall I take you?

I want a cat, she tells him with conviction in her voice. It seems that she won't be swayed on the matter and this is before he even has a chance to argue the matter with her. Her jaw was set and at any moment her lips could break into a pout - hardly becoming of a vampire as old as she was and definitely not the way one was supposed to act with their childe.

Around the chair she makes her way and up, around his neck her arms go as she looks up into his eyes. We have room in the family for a cat, don't we, Abbadon?

Abbadon lifts an eyebrow at the direct request. One corner of his mouth quirks upward as he recognizes what exactly she was doing. Were he still alive, he might have been drawn in more easily by her undeniable allure. He places his hands on her waistline and returns a different kind of look, one almost of insult. Has Thomas not been seeing that the kitchen is rodent free? If it troubles you so, I will have a word with him.

With a smirk she tilts her head to the side keeping her gaze locked on Abbadon's. If she wasn't careful there was the slightest chance she'd enthrall him but considering his force of will she didn't think the risk was all that big of one. She curls a lock of his hair around her finger almost daring him to try and stop her from getting her way. You know that he has but I want a pet that is as faithful and affectionate as I am and you aren't doing the trick.

Oh! Your words cut deep, my sire, he says with a playful grin, holding her gaze. He decides to accede. You have swayed me. We'd best be going, though, before the shops close for the night. Unless you don't intend to pay for this cat. He considers the possibility of breaking and entering. It was never really necessary for them, but he always enjoys the thrill it gives him.

She unwinds her arms from around his neck and places one hand in the crook of his elbow with the other hand in his much like lovers from times long since past. This simple act, one so reminiscent of her younger days, makes her smile. Of course I intend to pay, you silly goose. Cardea gives Abbadon a tug towards the doorway and leads the way out of the library to the garage where the car awaits them. She slips into the front passenger seat of the black sedan waiting for Abbadon to slip into the driver's seat. Inside the sedan in the backseat sat a small briefcase filled with the money Cardea had set aside for the trip.

Abbadon had paused only long enough to grab his coat, but Cardea had already beaten him to the car. He opens the driver's side door and eases himself into the seat. Glancing into the back seat, he notices the briefcase. He raises an eyebrow at his sire. Surely we won't need all of that, he says with a smirk. He starts the car and begins the trek into the city. It would take a mortal quite a while to get there by this route, but Abbadon never went the speed limit. Where exactly did you have in mind for us to go, dearest?

I think we should go to a shelter and rescue ourselves a kitten, Abbadon dearest, and we just may. I read in a book that kittens need all kinds of extra supplies. She pulls a list out of thin air and starts reading items off of it.. Litter box, food and water dishes, collar and tags, cat furniture...