false virtues

Oz & Delia

“What about Atlantis? Was that ever truly a thing?”

“I’ve never found it, though I can tell you where about it might be, if it were to resurface once more.”

It was always ugly, as well as incredibly bloody, when two vampires fought. The death of Esra Crane had affected some vampire clans more than others, true, but it had created a ripple effect that would be felt all over. Cordelia was to witness this first hand, unfortunately. Jean-Claude, a vampire bouncer for a nearby casino, had gotten into a fight with a vamp that Delia didn’t know, and now both were dead in the street. Well, dead again. She stood on the sidewalk nearby in a small group of onlookers as the police cars and ambulances lit up the area.

It had happened outside of her office at the C4C, so she had witnessed a bit of it. Not that it mattered anymore–the police couldn’t be bothered with witnesses when both parties were dead, and not even human to begin with. It was all a matter of clean up now, though vampires would be answering for this in the syndicate. 

It was like tuning into his own thoughts, listening carefully to Cordelia planning to bother him with his own thoughts on the subject. But where he was concerned, he couldn’t have been less amused. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for death to knock, even to the so called immortal. As long as it wasn’t him or any of his motley crew of offspring, then he really didn’t give it the time of day.

Oz waited for her, posted up in one of his lounge chairs in the luxurious office he had acquired. When she walked in, Oz had been staring her way, lack of emotion in that void stare. “Don’t ask,” he commanded, making a gesture of zipping the lips before she could open hers. “You know the answer, and I think it’s best left unsaid. That also means keep your thoughts on the event to yourself. That includes no speaking to the media about your accounts. Capisci? Great.”

Dante stood at the window of his penthouse suit, looking out over the parking lot of the Tempest Valley Casino. Despite it being early in the morning, the parking lot was still full from the customers lingering in the lobby, taking in the full twenty four hour experience the Tempest had to offer. Dante ensured that his establishment had anything patrons could ever want; booze, gambling both low stake and high, women, men, and anything in between. It was his greatest achievement– which was why he wasn’t about to look the other way when someone tried to undermine his business. 

He turned away from the window, and strode out of his room. Perhaps a lesser man would have balked at walking through the hotel halls in nothing but a red chiffon robe and slippers, but Dante was a Kaldwin, and therefore possessed more confidence than any earthly man had a right too. Perhaps why he saw himself above men; nearly a god. He confidently walked down the hall, and into the elevator, looking past the patrons pressed against the back wall as if they were invisible. He was on a mission. 

As soon as the elevator hit the ground floor, Dante moved through the doors, the people waiting for the elevator parting like the red sea to let him pass. He made his way through the lines of slot machines and game tables, back to the managers office, hidden in plain sight. Dante rarely visited the casino control room; he’d left his business in capable hands so that he could focus on more entertaining ventures. But some things where too important to leave unattended. 

“Right, yeah, ship shape. Almost found the cure to blindness too, but alas, my greatness mustn’t be spent all in one place. Solving problems was never really my style.” Oz gave him a shit eating grin, one that had gotten him in more trouble than assisted him out. Under that smile was the truth just ready to spill out onto the floor like a roll of never ending parchment.

“I’m sure you’d want me to get back to business rather than waste your oh-so precious time here. Why don’t you go grab yourself a coke and a smile and leave me to the rest.” There was nothing he liked more than to be off Dante’s radar. Oz had known far in advance about the theft. More so, he had arranged it from the start. It wasn’t a huge loss for the business, or so Oz thought when he first came up with the plan. Dipping his fingers into the honey pot and making some side cash was hardly criminal. There was a clear system in his methods. All he was going to need to do was pin it on someone further down the food chain than himself. It was foolproof.