Betrayals

Alan Wolfe ran. His heart could no longer beat in terror, but he felt it squeeze with an all too real fear. Everything was coming apart. The betrayals came one after another and staggered Wolfe like hammer-blows. Perhaps this is why Alex believes herself to be a monster, he thought. Perhaps after centuries of this, there was nothing left inside capable of love or trust.

Except maybe that wasn’t true. Alex trusted Alan enough to extend that trust to Sasha, based only on his word. And maybe she even loved him. But Alan wasn’t going to take that risk, he wasn’t going to let Sasha die.

His mind still raced, however and he only wished that his feet and wings could move as fast. Dorian was in on this, maybe behind it. He’d altered Alan’s memories, altered Johnny’s, made the Gangrel elder a servant to his own twisted childe. Brightwind had turned Johnny against him, made Athro and Fostern fight. Sasha’s mother was a Black Spiral Dancer and she would have to die. Even the Nosferatu were not what they seemed, either willing participants in this evil, or else wretched dupes like Johnny.

Wolfe knew he was running into danger worse than he had ever faced. Dorian, Brightwind, Lily…any of them would be a threat by themselves and of the three, Alan thought he might only be able to take Brightwind. If he caught him alone. But that was his only hope; to catch up with Brightwind and save Sasha, then flee for help.

I love you, Sasha. I’m coming.