Miguel had seen enough. He needed to run.
He ran to the closest Pasadena Boys' hangout first. He had to warn them that the Leeches had gone feral. But he got there to find the mad undead flinging themselves through windows and breaking down the doors. He ran again, this time for the edge of Golden Boys territory. They'd been loyal to the Pasadena Boys. But as he approached the cutoff, he felt a searing pain in his arm. The Golden Boys had opened fire, turning him back. They hadn't even given him a warning. Miguel turned again, still running. But he didn't know where he would go. Where there was to hide. The constant symphony of shrieks and howls told him there was nowhere to go. Eventually he'd grow tired. Eventually he would trip. And then they would find him.
Miguel had no idea just how close he was to the monster on building looming overhead. He would have been dead had she noticed, or cared. But the corpse standing atop what was once some big box store had other pox marring her thoughts. Draco stood in silence, feeling the warm breeze blow against the scales that lined her torso and pelvis. Mortal flesh on her extremities was necessary to operate among the lowly creatures, but the Tzimisce took a visage more like her namesake where they needed not to see. The scrabbling of the mortals below did not interest her. Her eyes were locked on the plume of smoke rising to the south. The smoke was black and acrid, and to her heightened senses carried the stench of charred flesh. Her Caethdral burned in the distance, her Swords of South Houston dead at its base. Her work had been turned to ash in a single night, and for the first time she felt her faith in Brother Julian - in their cause - waver.
As she contemplated the burning husk of her creation, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn't need to look to know who it was. Julian stood behind her, his once-handsome face sunken and pallid with the visage of the Beast. The Malkavian always seemed to be there when he was needed - a blessing of the Blood his Clan had taken back from their Founder. "I apologize," Draco said. "For my unfaithful thoughts. Forgive me for this moment of weakness."
Julian took a step forward, removing his hand from Draco's shoulder to stand at her side. "There is nothing to forgive, sister," he said. "Caine demands much of us in these nights. It is only natural that our faith will be challenged. And though you were tested, you did what the Dark Father expected of you. You gave up that which was most important to you as his childe. And through it you have brought us victory."
Draco stared out at the smoldering remains of decades of her unlife ruefully. "It does not feel like a victory," she finally said. "His plan had been for my Swords to take the Limits. For my ministry to grow. For all in these pitiful limits to know the word of Caine."
"And in time, that vision will be realized," Julian replied. "He works in the way we lesser creatures cannot understand. It is beyond the limits of lesser creatures such as we. But you were asked to put your work and your ego aside so that we might realize victory despite these setbacks. And for now, victory has been achieved."
Draco was silent. She was still contemplating the events of these nights. How she had seen Austin for the first time in decades. How she had learned her daughter unlived. But her thoughts were interrupted by Julian. "Are you aware of the story of Boudica and the Celtic Revolts, sister?" Draco turned, eyeing Julian idly. "I am not possessed of any special regard for the history of our prey, but some do fascinate me." Draco nodded as Julian spoke. "At the beginning of the revolt, the Romans marched upon an island that had sought to throw off the Roman yoke. Upon arriving, the Romans found no Celtic Army, only Druids and shrieking women standing upon a wooden pyre. They slew them upon the beach and declared victory, only for the last standing to put a torch to the kindling upon which they stood." Draco's eyes widened. "The Romans realized too late that the slaughter was not an oversight by the Celts. It was a sacrifice to the Druids' dark gods to secure victory against the Romans."
Draco looked back at the foul, black smoke rising from her Cathedral. "The Druids offered themselves as a sacrifice," she said. "So that they could have a hope of victory."
"And so tonight your work burns as a sacrament to the Dark Father," Julian said. "It has gone upon the pyre to demonstrate to Caine that our faith is absolute. That though we may stumble upon the path, we shall not stray from it." Draco nodded, and she felt the nagging doubt clear from her mind. Brother Julian and Caine had not failed her. Her faith had been tested, but she had passed that test. And in doing so she had lit a fire that the Tower nor the Rabble could stop. Her sacrament to the Dark Father would be the spark upon which the heretics burned.
"I understand, Brother," Draco finally said. "As always, you have restored my faith."
"All that being said," Julian continued, looking at Draco now. "As surely as our Faith is tested, it may also be rewarded." Draco turned to Julian now. She did what she did in the name of Caine, not external reward. All the same, she felt her gullet ache at the possibilities. "It is not lost upon Him that you have given more than any of us for the first nights of the Parish of Houston," Julian continued. "And through your sacrament, He will make it known that loyalty and faith will be rewarded."
The click of the door behind them drew both Julian's and Draco's attention. Behemoth approached them, a lesser Pack at his bath. The hulking Gangrel carried before him a tall man of African descent dressed in an old-fashioned suit. The suit was rumpled, and the man's face was frozen with fear. Frozen by the stake protruding from his chest.
Julian turned to Draco. "Tonight at our Blood Feast," he said. "You will be honored with the Heart's Blood of our enemy. You will claim this pretender-Cainite's soul for your own, and in doing so will light the fire which will consume the Tower and the Rabble both."
Draco did not speak. She simply fell to her knees, her head bowed. Julian motioned for her to rise. "Do not thank me," Julian said. "It was His decision, Sister Draco. And when the soul of this 'Primogen' has settled inside of you, He has plans for you. Plans elsewhere." Draco rose, looking to the east with Julian. "And if you remain faithful," Julian said. "You will be rewarded again. This time with the retribution you desire."
Soundtrack - For the Damaged Coda