Vampire: The Masquerade FanFiction Novella 1&2

Note: this story was inspired from my Lady Le Homme poem.

(disclaimer: apart from my own characters, none in this universe and/or brand names belong to me.)

Chapter One

I awoke tired to a busy nights work. My lack of rest, I figure, is due to the same nightmare that left me shaking, dripping perspiration, as last time. And yet I still cannot really remember it!
Dotti charges into the room, she's beautiful, but is destructive as a red dust storm. She throws the white gauze curtains open, showcasing the vast expanse of woodlands. Not quite enough to be called national park but isolated enough to entice all the customers.
"Get up lazy bones, I need you to jump some bones!" She shouts excitedly. With her flaming red hair and love of all things polka dot, Dotti is one of our more 'acquired tastes.'
I pull the flowery quilt over my head and mumble pleasantly, "Piss off."
She bounds over to my bed (with the best suspension you'll ever see) and repeats the same violent action as the curtains to my 'old lady' quilt.
"Come on grumblebum I need you to poke some--"
"Getting up now!"
The things that she says do NOT suit such a sweet looking mouth.
Dotti says with even more enthusiasm then normal and a wicked little snigger,"Lorelei wants to see you in the Den, Lady."
Lorelei is the current mistress. Senior members take turns along with Pischa and Mati-Whorie. She is also our resident water sports specialist.
"Thanks, Dot. Any idea why?" I ask carefully.
Dotti just giggles and sprints from my room. It must be important, we're not told our field trips in person. It's usually placed on the rosters in the Den or texted straight to us. The latter being less common, especially with Lorelei, she's a traditionalist to the core.
I see few people on my way to the Den. I overslept and everybody is already at work. I see the tail end of Kis'mei's blonde locks and her new friend. I catch her eyes and she winks at me before she shuts the door.
At thirty-nine Kis'mei has many coats of professional polish, nothing much cracks her, so I know this is a big deal.
The Den is stark white, with very little furnishing aside from a massive cream couch and the roster board (it's more of a wall, really.) The lack of lurid color is designed to be a rest for the eye. I rap on the door, denying it being a common space.
"Come in Lady."
I did so to find Lorelei hands behind her back inspecting the roster wall. Her blue lipstick sparkles along with whatever product she put into her hair. A deep ultramarine blue all the hair is, from the tip of her forehead to the back of her ankles, hers. In the beginning there was wigs but no pin or glue was ever strong to cope with the strain.
Hair slipping off is one hell of a mood killer. I wonder if the amount perm is really worth it. An ebony hand caught my wrist, dragging me away from my constant appearance assessment. "I have a job for you."
"I kinda figured." I grunt, amused. Dark eyes harden with worry.
"It's a big job."
I pry my wrist free. I'm excited. "As in... Lots of people?"
I have a voracious sexual appetite, I'm never ever satisfied. It comes in handy in this business. Again a flicker of worry... Fear?
"What, then? I can handle big Lorelei, you know that."
Patience is not one of my strongest virtues. Although, perhaps contradictory, stoicism is.
"I'll be honest, Lady. This is dangerous. We are family and I love you, you're like my child. It makes this feel even more like I'm throwing you to the wolves."
A niggle of panic settles in my gut.
"The money trouble?" I guess.
Lorelei closes her eyes. "I ... we will find another way--"
"I'll do it," I state.
Blue lips turn down, making her look worn.
"I understand the danger. I can handle big, remember? Where to then?"
Lorelei's fingers curl in a way I know normal people mean a smile. She hands me yellow a folder. "You're to go alone. They will... Meet you there."
It was the closest I've ever seen lorelei' to open emotion.
"Give the others my letter."
She nodded, eyebrows grave. She is so hard to read I almost have to use brindle to discover anything.
"Do I get your granny comforter?" Dotti squeals, tackling me over in a hug.
"I thought you hated it?" I wheeze under her.
"Oh, I do. I want to be the one who gets to burn it!" She means well, or so I tell myself.
"Haha, very funny. Now get off me I have to go change."

Chapter Two

I strongly dislike wearing pants. They make me feel uncomfortable. Exposed. But I'm walking into 'Town'. This is impossible in the winter. I'd be a Popsicle before my forehead hit the door jam (this always happens to me, without fail.)
I like to stay fit, hiking and walks keep my muscles lean.
I look at the instructions again.
San Francisco.
You've got to be fucking me. Hell, someone better be when I get there! I'm not a whiz at geography but I  think Alaska and San Francisco are a ways apart... Maybe. School was never my thing.
I've packed like I know the journey ahead. I'm wearing my lucky necklace. The others nicknamed it 'The Ball and Chain'. It's heavy brass chainlink attached with a large heart, with some kind of rough cut crystal on it. It's pretty, and a handy tool in a fight as well. Only one thing may break me.
No sex.
Thats right, it's Rule Number: 1
It's not as if... Nevermind that thought I've reached the bus stop to the town's Airport. I don't go into town much. I seriously doubt many know of my home deep in the woods. Senior members like it that way. Besides, some of us, yes me included, attract too much visual interest.
"Where to little miss...?" His question dies on his lips as the pilot looks up at me.
I hope he can hold his composure better in the cockpit. "Little Lady, actually," I smile brightly, "I'm headed for the border, good 'ol U S of A."
"Of...of course," He splutters, "Hop in. We don't get too many folks flying out through the spring, like to leave it at the last minute."
He helps me up. He does talking for most of the flight. I don't mind though. I enjoy listening. It is another service of which I am genuine that makes me popular. It's not sex always. Sometimes the men want to talk about their wife and kids too.
I make it through customs okay, but I do raise some eyebrows about my work visa. I'm not a tourist by any means!
Things are going just dandy, swell. The way you would use old fashioned words to describe. Until I end up in the middle of fucking NOWHERE. How do you know your in the middle of nowhere, you may ask? For starters you cannot see anything in one direction or another other than terrain. And you haven't spoken to another person in so long it hurts when you talk!
I only have a vague idea of where I am and it's probably wrong. Stupid, worthless understanding of real world space.
But I don't really have time to curse right now as some not so nice men are cornering me in the toilet that doesn't understand the function of its urinals.
"Let's see what ya got under there pretty lady." Five against one. Hardly seems worth any of my effort.
"Let's not." He pulls my shirt up anyway.
"Ah, Carey!" Cries one, "you got us a trannie!"
"Another one!"
Carey drops my shirt like it was on fire. "But... It's not my fault this time, look! You got tricked too!"
Tricked? What's this repressed idiot on about? Sure, my hair is long, my clothes feminine and, sorry, I can't help I'm so gorgeous. HOWEVER, I don't wear a bra or padding and I'm JUST pushing an athletic girls muscle. I've never had any sort of feminization done, I do however have a more violin then v shaped body. To top it all off, I'm in the mens' room, for heavens sake! I overreact a tad. Then I leave the dive joint.
First I fix my hair in the dirty mirror then I step over the boys groaning bodies on the way out. You need at least some self defence when working in my profession.