Table of Contents
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Table of Contents If You Can’t Be Both (Part I) 6 Bloodline Origins 50 In the Covenants 50 Rumors 51 Introduction 11 Wen Mingli 52 Theme: Lonely Together 11 Truths of Erebus 52 Mood: It’s Right Behind You 11 Sample Lessons of Erebus 53 A Haunted Past 11 Twists of the Blood: Blinded by the Light 54 What’s in This Book 12 Nosferatu in the Media 12 Von Schreck Family 55 Bloodline Origins 56 If You Can’t Be Both (Part II) 14 In the Covenants 56 Rumors 57 Missy Malice 57 Chapter One: Grave Blooms 19 Bloodline Gift: Know Your Audience 58 Acteius 20 New Devotions 58 Bloodline Origins 21 Yagnatia 60 In the Covenants 21 Bloodline Origins 61 Rumors 22 In the Covenants 61 Maggie Kincaid 22 Rumors 62 New Merit 23 Jim Lykinov 63 New Devotions 24 New Crúac Rites 63 Candymen 26 New Devotion 65 Bloodline Origins 27 Twists of the Blood: Fallow Obfuscations 65 In the Covenants 27 Rumors 28 If You Can’t Be Both (Part III) 66 Jeremiah Jolly 28 Bloodline Gift: The Sweet Stuff 29 New Devotions 29 Chapter Two: Hellscapes 71 Horror: The Hungry 31 Welcome to Hell 71 The Cockscomb Society 32 Ex Urbe Mortis 71 Bloodline Origins 33 In the Covenants 72 In the Covenants 34 Pale Imitations 72 Rumors 34 Brick by Ugly Brick 73 Potter Woolsthorpe Wycombe 35 Step One: The Heart 73 Bloodline Gift: Old Money 35 Step Two: Veins 73 New Devotions 36 Step Three: Residents 74 Gethsemani 37 Step Four: Clots 75 Bloodline Origins 38 Step Five: Merits 77 In the Covenants 39 Tumbling Down 79 Rumors 39 The Coal Shafts 80 Angel Dee 40 Where we came from 80 Bloodline Gift: Stigmatica 41 Who we are tonight 80 New Theban Sorcery Miracles 41 Secrets and Lies 80 New Devotions 42 Residents 81 Keepers of the Dark 43 The Quaint Village 82 Bloodline Origins 44 Where we came from 82 In the Covenants 44 Who we are tonight 82 Rumors 45 Secrets and Lies 82 Elizabeth Brathwaite 46 Residents 83 New Merits 46 Popobawa’s Roost 83 SampleNew Devotion 47 Where we came from file83 Twists of the Blood: Blessed by the Dark 48 Who we are tonight 83 Lygos 49 Secrets and Lies 84 Table of Contents 3 Residents 84 Where we came from 114 The Lost Necropolis 85 Who we are tonight 114 Where we came from 85 Three Unwanted 115 Who we are tonight 85 New Merit 116 Secrets and Lies 86 Gravenor 117 Residents 86 Where we came from 117 The Rusted Graveyard 86 Who we are tonight 118 Where we came from 86 Three Watchers 118 Who we are tonight 86 Kobayashi 120 Secrets and Lies 87 Where we came from 120 Residents 87 Who we are tonight 120 Appendix: Cymothoa Sanguinaria 88 Three Mimics 121 Systems 88 New Devotion 122 Little Legs, Big Fangs 88 Fear Eaters 123 Digging Deeper 89 Background 123 Rumors 124 If You Can’t Be Both (Part IV) 90 Suzie Hanson 125 New Merits 125 Chapter Three: Dreams & Nightmares 95 The Noctuku Strain 127 Background 127 A Haunted Toybox 95 Rumors 128 Archetypes 95 Dr. Esteban Reyes 129 Devotions 95 Systems 130 Merits 101 Phagia 130 Malice and Mutation: The Lonely Curse 105 Twists of the Blood: Family Dinner 132 Sample Flaws 105 Nowhere Men 133 The Potent Curse 106 Background 133 Rumors 133 If You Can’t Be Both (Part V) 108 Calvin Harris, Puppet Without Strings 134 Storytelling the Nowhere Men 135 Chapter Four: Terrors 113 Chaménos 114 If You Can’t Be Both (Epilogue) 138 Index of Conditions and Tilts Despondent (Persistent) 101 Overwhelming Hunger 31 Frantic (Persistent) 98 Potent Curse (Persistent) 107 Necropolis Pariah (Persistent) 79 Touch of Nowhere (Persistent) 136 Noctuku Strain (Persistent) 130 Walking Cliché (Personal Tilt) 59 Sample file 4 Better Feared: Nosferatu Sample file PART 1 AirDrop The night was boiling in downtown Chicago when Charity Lane stepped onto the westbound Metra. As the doors clamped shut behind her like a lamprey, she shivered. The train car was a freezer by comparison, and the frigid, phlegmy coughing of the antique air conditioner made her aware of every drop of sweat. The dirty floor was covered with a velvet layer of condensation, and she had to mind each step of her flat-bottomed canvas sneakers, lest they betray her to the grime. Though dressed comfortably in a pair of jeans and a soft white Saint Laurent t-shirt, she felt exposed before every pair of eyes. Normally she liked that feeling, and the sense of control that welled up when she saw the intentions of admirers. Normally, that intention didn’t involve killing her. This was a bad idea. She walked the length of the car, swaying between bodies as the train ramped up. It was Friday night, just shy of midnight, and the Metra was speckled with an even mix of drunks, exhausted workers, and students who were a mix of both. Despite only being half-full, the seats were flooded with bodies. Some were sleeping in fits; others were reading their phones or the rare dogeared paperback. Along the back wall, she was pretty sure two college guys were servicing each other beneath their backpacks. Good for you, she thought. You’re having a much better night than I am. One of the men looked up and touched his gaze to hers, and she smiled for the briefest moment before a thought intruded: What if he’s the one? The thought hurried her to the front of the car, where she could keep her back against the wall — see everything, just like her boss had told her. Two seats by the conductor’s door… As she pushed through the last clot of sweaty, braying commuters, she was shocked to see precisely that: two seats by the conductor’s door. The only ones in the car devoid of bodies or bags. Just like magic. It was always like that with her boss. He was magic. She’d seen him stare down an entire crew on the South Side once, and scare a beat cop so bad the pig pissed himself. He was the scariest man in Chicago, and he would save her. Again, an intrusive thought wormed its way into her comfort: He didn’t save Juanita. She shuddered and went to sit down in the seat next to the barrier. She desperately wanted something hard and safe against her, but as she lowered herself, a strange compulsion overwhelmed her, and she found herself unable to sit, as if she’d just noticed the seat had a wad of chewed gum stuck to it. It’s probably better to stay out of the corner, she rationalized, and slid into the second seat. She turned back toward the rest of the car and flicked her eyes back and forth, inspecting every face and wondering which one of them had sent the message. Which one of them was going to kill her. TheSample first text came two nights ago. She was riding the train home after spendingfile the night with a favorite client at the Waldorf Astoria, and her skin was abuzz with a mix of post-coital flush and the high of $500 champagne. She was in the middle of a text to her sister when her phone flashed. It was an AirDrop, anonymous, and she was drunk enough to open it. It was a picture of her then, smiling into her phone, oblivious and happy. It could have been a cute candid photo from a friend, if not for the accompanying text: I’M GOING TO KILL THIS WHORE She’d vomited her champagne into the aisle. One of her coworkers, Juanita, received a similar message about a week before. She and Charity lived across the hall from each other in the Castle — a condo on the Upper Loop owned by their boss — and spent some of their free time together. Juanita had assumed it was all just a shitty prank, but Charity hadn’t seen her since the night she’d texted to say she got a second message. Charity knew she should have checked in, but life and work and school got the better of her, and she’d forgotten about Juanita until she received a message of her own. Last night, she went out to the All Foods to grab soy milk and sundries, and she hadn’t been paying attention when her phone buzzed again. It was a picture of her, crouched in the frozen food aisle, weighing whether she could afford the carbs in sorbet. The accompanying text read: ENJOY IT WHILE YOU CAN It wasn’t a prank: It was a countdown. She’d called her boss, crying on the floor of the store’s musty bathroom. He walked her home that night, put her to bed, and gave her a plan. Charity kept checking her phone with a swelling anxiety. No new messages. If he was going to save her, he could at least let her know where he was. Instead, she was alone, and for the first time she felt like she was bait, or worse — a sacrifice. She folded herself in half and hugged her knees to her chest. A low, all-consuming tremble was beginning just at the base of her stomach. She couldn’t stop shaking, so she closed her eyes and tried to count away the fear with deep, measured breaths. The train stopped at Halstead and a man shuffled on, half unwrapped from his suit by a bottle of bourbon.