The Dark Edge Chronicles - Clan War

Catching the Train out of Town

Between their recent blood meals, and the effects of the kickstarters, both Truk and Lash were in good enough shape to push hard for the train station. With Narcist gamely keeping up, they managed to use their vampire physiques to their optimum capabilities and thirty minutes became ten.

Still, they were fairly winded by the time the train station came into view.

"Are your civilian disguises still sufficiently intact?" Lash managed to ask between deep, fueling breaths as they stopped just across the street from the busy station.

"As long as they ignore the holes and the blood, I should be fine," Truk said, earning himself a snort from Narcist, who gave him a shove with her forearm. Then she too answered.

"Mine are holed as well, but no blood," she indicated. "It should pass a casual inspection."

Lash nodded and took stock of his own disguise. And quickly found himself frowning at discovering, much like Truk's, his clothes were well ventilated and sported numerous bloodstains.

Looking up with a frown, he scanned the station itself. And found the frown fading slightly at spotting a couple of clothing boutiques close to the station where they could purchase replacements. Along with a bank machine where they could get a cash advance off his Qos Viran-issued credit cards.

"Narcist. I am a triple XL long. Truk?"

"Uh, double XL regular, I think."

The tech specialist frowned.

"You're telling me this, why?" she asked.

"We need new jackets to repair our disguises." Lash looked at her. "And you're the only one of the three of us not covered in your own blood."

A look of resignation washed across her face.

"Fair point."

After a quick trip to the bank machine to get a cash advance, Narcist was sent cash in hand into the clothing store that offered products for both sexes.

It was a tense few minutes spent waiting for her to return. But not so tense, Truk didn't have a wry comment or two to make.

"I hope she doesn't get me something with flowers on it," he said as Lash scanned the street yet again, looking for Hand operatives and White Flames in disguise.

"Don't like flowers?" the big vampire asked, eyes narrowed as he spotted two Hand operatives in daycloaks exiting the train station before moving down the street away from them.

"Never got an appreciation for them, you know?" Truk folded his arms. "Too dayside."

Lash watched the operatives disappear, apparently unaware of the furor his team had stirred in the city, before looking over at his fellow Ventru.

"And if she does?"

Truk grimaced.

"I'll take it, of course. If I say anything, she'll shoot me in the face."

A hint of a smile touched Lash's lips at that. Narcist did, indeed, seem the type to shoot first in such situations. Then the smile was vanishing as the third member of their small company stepped out of the store, bag in hand, and turned towards where they were lurking at the corner of the building.

As she got close, the lithe vampiress reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of hooded sweatshirts in dark, solid colors.

"You're lucky we're in Ireland, not Italy," she said as she tossed a dark gray hoodie to the grim Lash. "They were just about out of size 'giant'. But at least they had one."