Taking out the trash

Looking across at a pair of cat like green eyes, over the top of a severed neck in a bar backlot was not how Dagaz had ever expected his first kill to have taken place, but that was the situation he found himself in. The moment dragged out uncomfortably, neither pair of eyes daring to blink, to take their gaze away even for the briefest of seconds in case the other made a move.

"So, Vampire huh. Should have known from the smell, but I guess you slipped by me. Too many scents inside to get a clear read. Fresh huh, I'm guessing — only way to explain it. Or I'm loosing my touch. Nah. How long since you were turned?

Dagaz reeled under the accusation. The fact it was true was beside the fact, he had been discovered, and he was honestly more scared of that than he had been at the prospect of taking on three thugs on his own. His brain sputtered, desperately trying to fabricate a lie that would sound even remotely plausible enough that he could pass off what he'd done somehow, but there was no story he could think of that even approached being close to good enough to cover his ass.

But the realisation dawned on him that he didn't have to cover himself or what he had done. He may not have started the nights ****, but he'd definitely interrupted it, and she'd helped finish it. She was as much a party to this as he was, and from the looks of her eyes seemed to have equally as much to hide as he did.

"So, rip people's heads off often?" shot back.

"Touché. But this one," shen said, letting the corpse she was still holding fall to the ground, "had it coming. I'm just glad it was me and not one of the other poor girls they decided to corner. Me cago en la leche!" She spat at the floor.

Dagaz was more than a little puzzled, and more than a lot curious. His Spanish was so far beyond rusty it wasn’t even funny, but he knew the bad words when he heard them. Strangely, she didn't look even remotely Latin with her red hair. Maybe she died it. She wasn't like him though, a Vampire, not as far as he could tell anyway. Now that they were outside away from the sea of bodies that had turned the air into an unfilterable cornucopia of smells inside, he could identify her scent, and it was decidedly not human. Not vampire either, she was something else. She smelt like adrenaline, whisky, and wet cat.

"What are you? If you could have taken them out that easily, why'd you wait?" He was more interested in knowing the answer to his second question than he was in learning the answer to his first.

"More fun that way." She started to lick the blood from the back of her hands with her tongue, long delicate laps from the wrist to her knuckles, and Dagaz was reminded of seeing images of big cats grooming themselves on National Geographic as they lay in the jungle. "Plus I'd smelt you behind them. Wanted to see what you were about. Kinda glad I waited actually, what you did with his arm — priceless. Human puppet, amazing. Don't think that'll be topped for a while. Pity the morgue won't get to try and explain that one away, I'd love to see the look on their faces."

The fact that she seemed to be less worried about the **** that had occurred than he did should have set alarm bells ringing, but instead he found himself intrigued. She was making jokes over the situation — actually finding humour in he bloody carnage they had wrought, and was acting like it wasn't a regular occurrence. He noticed she'd not yet answered his first question either, having deflected to the second one he'd posed.

"So, you know what a Vampire smells like. I take it that means you've come across us before. Have you met many of us?" She fixed her eyes on him intently, as he met her stare he was fascinated to see her pupils slowly morph from the narrow black slits they had been back to regular, Human looking ones.

"Oh sweetie. You really are new aren't you."

Was it that obvious? It wasn't like he had a big fucking sign around his neck saying Fresh Blood sucker. , but something about him must have screamed it. But he nodded anyway.

"You don't even know what this place is do you? Jesus, what piece of shit Sire Embraces someone and leaves them clueless. You are legal aren't you? Wait, don't answer that, I don't want to know."

She was right. He wanted answers, desperately, and if Ysabelle had neglected to stick around long enough to give him any, perhaps this woman could. "Slow down. Fine, I guess neither of us is Human, and you seem strangely aware of what I am. You're not like me, are you."

"Not even remotely, and somehow I doubt you're ready to know what I am. But fairs fair, I'll tell you my name at least. I'm Morginn." She went to offer him her hand to take, and realising it was still smeared in someone else's blood set about wiping it off on the dead skinheads shirt nonchalantly. "Ugh, do you know how long it takes to get the smell of dried blood out from under you nails!?" The way she said it made him think that she knew exactly how long it took, and he didn’t know if he should be impressed or scared at the fact she knew that particular snippet of information.
Dagaz couldn't say that he did. He watched with an intent fascination as Morginn opened one of the huge metal dumpster, and set about hauling then skinheads two accomplices into it, and after quite a bit of searching to discover where his head had landed, threw that and the skinheads corpse in after them.

Seeing the puzzled look on his face, she said, as if instructing a child, "I'll get rid of them properly later. But for now, can't leave them out here just in case. This is your first kill too isn't it. Well then, lesson 1; clear up after yourself. The Masquerade doesn't tolerate headless bodies just showing up."

'Holy shit, she knows about the Masquerade!'

"Please. You have to tell me Morginn." He wasn't used to begging — begging wasn't something the Milquist's did, it was beneath them his mother had always told him, usually with the back of her hand — but he begged anyway. "She warned me about it. My Sire. But she never told me what it was, just left me. That was 4 days ago."

Something about this guy sparked her interest. She'd never met someone who gave off such an aura of strength, but pure childish innocence at the same time. It was a strange combination, one that she decided to take kindness towards by answering his question. If he truly didn't know what the Masquerade was he wasn't likely to survive long which she thought would be a great shame. If he was allowed to live he may well prove to be quite the interesting character.

"In its simplest form? Don't get discovered. So no Disciplines in front of the Muggles Harry. No fangs, no kills, no witnesses."

He knew it, there were laws for his kind! Shit, had he broken any already? And what the hell was a Discipline!? First problem though, and he'd figure the rest out later. He'd just killed two men, and was complicit in killing a third. The look of fear must have been apparent on his face.

"Don't worry about them seeing us, they can't talk if they're dead. They had it coming anyway, fucking ass holes."

That was true he guessed. "So what are you going to do with them?" Dagaz wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know the answer to that question, but he didn't like the idea of this leading back to him later, especially if there were consequences worse that the cops to deal with.

"I'll chop them down, pull their teeth and fingertips, then bury the parts miles apart. That way even if they get found no-one will ID them. Doubt anyone will cry for them even if they did." She said it as matter of factly as she had informed him of the Bar’s selection of drinks earlier, seemingly giving it next to no thought.

The blood he'd drunk rapidly threatened to leave his stomach, but he **** it down, not prepared to loose his second meal tonight. He'd better get used to dealing with stuff like this, he thought. 'You drink blood, stop being a little bitch' As he mentally chastised himself, he began to see the cold logic in what Morginn had said. They'd fed, they killed, and now they had to avoid not only discovery by the human authorities, but by whoever enforced the Masquerade, and Dagaz suspected they were likely to be the ones to really fear.

As much as he didn't want to, he found himself offering to help her dispose of the evidence, after all he was equally as responsible as she was.

"Nah, I got this. But thanks." The look of relief that spread across his face must have been apparent. "Anyway, you know what they say — 'those that slay together stay together.'" She laughed at his expense. "OK, no one actually says that, but it's one thing sharing a kill with you. I'm not going to second base with you on the first date."

"Is that what this is?” Dagaz asked wryly.

"No. This is more like —" she thought a moment, trying to find the right words. "Like, oh grabbing coffee together. Strictly not a date."

Not a date. He could live with that considering he already had one woman, now possibly two with the addition of Cayla, to deal with. Until he figured out how in the hell he was going to deal with both of them, he didn't even want to entertain the possibility of trying to navigate things with a third.

"Fair enough." His words came out sounding less confident that he'd intended apparently.

"Not a date. But I won't leave you hanging, I said I owe you one, so I'm going to give you a little free information. Maybe that way I don't find you in this dumpster one night. That'd be a shame." The rueful look on her face seemed to say that bodies turning up out here may not be as rare an occurrence as it should have been.

"This is a Supe bar. The Supe bar actually, only one in the entire city owned, run and frequented by non-humans. You don't even make it through the door unless you're either with one of us, or you are one. Keeps the riff raff out." Looking inside the bin, she took one last look at the corpses inside before slamming them lid down on their impromptu metal coffin. "Doesn't mean the vermin don't congregate outside though. So either you're the luckiest son of a bitch who ever died to have found this place, or someone is watching out for you. Either way, you're fortunate it was me out here and not one of the Thralls." She could see from the blanks expression in Dagaz's face he had no idea what a Thrall was. "We hav Human staff too, someone has to be here during the day. They're loyal to their Masters. "

Well, he guessed that made sense. Having someone who could do things for you during those hours of the say when you couldn't operate outside with out risk of being flambéed would make life a lot easier. "Just, how exactly do you turn them into Thralls? he asked, curious to find out if a theory of his was correct.

"Me? No, I don't do Thralls." For someone who had been discussing them casually, she genuinely looked offended at the idea she had some of her own. "I earn my loyalty thank you very much. But for Vamps, they give them a little taste of blood to hook them. Why earn what you can take."

He knew it! His blood had affected Ava, and now he knew how, although he wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. "How much blood are we talking here?

"That depends. Its not so much the amount really, more how.... wait." She began to grow suspicious. "Why are you asking exactly?"

"Sire left me to fend for myself, remember? Need to learn this stuff from somewhere and besides, you said you owed me." He tried to keep the excitement from his voice, despite his eagerness to learn more.

"Well the first time, they develop strong feelings for you. Can go either way to be honest, love or hate. Usually love. But they're still pretty much themselves, you know. They can walk way if they really choose to, but it takes some serious willpower for it to happen. Most people aren't strong enough to stay away."

That pretty much summed up what had occurred with Ava after he slipped his blood into her coffee. Their relationship had gone from down low all the way up to 11 pretty damn fast. I mean, he had game, but from practical strangers to her agreeing to move into his home in less than a week was exceptional even for him. Now he knew why.

"What about after the first time? Does it get worsen or better?"

"Well after the second time, you become like, the most important person in the world to them you know." Morginn adopted her best Valley girl accent and twisting a lock of her hair around her finger. "Oh mi God, I just can't stop thinking about him!" She laughed, reverting back to her normal voice. "They'll basically do anything to get your attention or please you. Can become a bit stalkerish if you're not carefully, but the bond stops them from being able to do anything that could really hurt you. Plus, you can talk them into doing stuff a lot easier."

Thinking over what she'd said, Dagaz was already debating of he should give Ava a second drink of his blood. "Is that it then?"

"There's another stage. Give them a third taste, and they're yours. Three's a complete bond. Anything less that that can be broken, eventually if not easily. Three’s what you do if you really want to mind fuck them, excuse the expression. Three drinks, and they're your bitch, they'll do anything you command them to do. They will pretty much give their life for yours if you’re enough of bastard to ask for it."

Whilst a complete bond sounded like it may have its uses, he could hear from the distain in her voice that something was bothering Morginn.

"You don't approve?"

"It's not that. I understand why we use Thralls." She looked like she was trying to convince herself, not him. "Earning loyalty, even buying it isn’t concrete. Sometimes shit goes south. That doesn't happen, can't happen with a blood bond. Doesn't mean I have to like it though."

"Fair enough. And considering us even. I helped you, you've just helped me." He helped her to her feet, brushed himself off before adding, almost as an afterthought. "Thank you Morginn. Really."

Was that a blush he saw creeping into her cheeks, turning them closer to the red shade of her hair? Maybe the tough exterior wasn't as hard as it appeared to be.

"Thanks too. And I'll say when I consider us even. The information was free, consider it a good will gesture of you like. Shall we head back in my shifts nearly over?"

"Sure." She had a point. He'd felt his phone vibrate after the fight, but hadn't thought to check it, he assumed it was Ava calling to see where he was. It wasn't like she'd be able to leave without him, he had the car keys and Cayla was too far over the limit to have driven her. He went to make for the door he'd let himself out from earlier, but. Morginn guided him around the side of the building towards one of the staff entrances.

"Head through there, past the kitchens. You can wash your hands in there. Door at the other end let's you back out into the club. Don't worry about the staff, if they stop you just tell them I let you in."

Bidding her farewell, he began to make his way back towards his date.

"Oh and Dagaz..." His ears perked up at the sound of her saying his name behind him. "Don't get yourself killed."

Notes:

A slightly longer chapter that usual, but as promised parts of the plot are now slowly moving into place. Hopefully you're all enjoying things so far :)

**If you've not done so already, feel free to check out the few parts of the Malkavian branch that have been written so far, as I'd really like to know what you think.

As always though, check the updates Chapter for any story wise changes you may have missed, and if you've enjoyed what you've read, please, please leave me comments and feedback. If I don't know what works for you guys, I can't adapt.