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Tomás hesitantly opened the door to the kitchenette. Twentysome minutes ago, Eliza had called him, near-frantic, asking him to come to the community center as soon as possible with Luna. The coterie usually met in this building, though Tomás couldn't remember the last time he had gone to the kitchen. Normally, they were a coterie of 4—two Nosferatu and 2 Ventrue—but the second Nosferatu Yenna was overseas, doing some odd occult research or something. Tomás didn't pay much attention, though he was envious of her departure. The city of Boston was going to shit, between the Prince's disappearance and Hunter attacks.
And they found themselves in the thick of investigations.
Tomás had just seen Eliza earlier tonight; she had seemed hungry but otherwise fine, considering the circumstances. At worst, she was perhaps angry that their target of the night—a Toreador suspected of Hunter sympathies—had escaped them. Despite Eliza's obvious distress during their phone call, he wanted to believe she could handle herself, and surely there had been some outside incident that had gotten her so distressed. Nothing that was their fault. Nothing that wasn't fixable.
Tomás took in the scene past the door as Luna, entered behind him.
The normally composed Eliza was rocking slightly in front of the counter with a plate of food, and on the floor—a body wrapped in a plastic sheet.
"H-hi." Eliza looked guilty, guiltier than he had ever seen her.
Luna covered her mouth with her hand as Eliza continued. "I-I didn't mean to."
Tomás realized he recognized the corpse. One of Eliza's ghouls, Delia, who Eliza had 'recruited' in front of him.
Tomás hadn't done anything to stop Eliza back then. Oh, he had considered it, even discussed the matter with Luna, but ultimately they both had rationalized that Delia was already in a precarious position. It seems she had been the secret ghoul of the now-disappeared Prince—and was an active masquerade breach. Delia knew too much to be ignored. Eliza would provide some level of safety, surely, and he had seen her treat her other servants and ghouls relativity well.
He avoided looking at the untouched food that Eliza had prepared.
Delia had been a pathetic woman when they had met her, clearly in vitae withdrawal and desperate. Shaking his head as he removed his hat, Tomás first muttered a long curse in Spanish, 'oh my god what the fuck, how did she-we, let this happen, why did I let this happen. I can't believe she did this, oh my god and what the fuck do we do now,' before composing himself. Eliza, respected Camarilla war-hero, soon to be Scourge of Boston, reduced to this. She would appreciate action, and regardless, Tomás had no words of comfort and little want to give them even if he had.
"What do we need to know?"
Eliza's voice wavered, her usual confidence disconcertingly absent, though she retained her formality in her explanations (excuses, Tomás thought). "I called her here, my activities tonight took more resources than expected, and I was in a rush, I intended to only take a little, just enough to continue the search, but, well." She looked at the body quickly for a moment. "But clearly that is not what happened."
Luna's huge eyes blinked slowly as she lowered her hand, processing. "By called her here, did you text, or?" One of her famulus moths dutifully flitted outside to keep watch—Luna was ever-security conscious.
"Texted, unfortunately, yes. Her phone has been disposed of, but this would be her last known location."
Tomás eyed Eliza carefully as he continued his questioning. She had killed before, he had even seen it, yet her distress here seemed genuine. "Is there anyone who would come looking for her?"
"I had not yet had the opportunity to learn about her personal life. I wanted to give her some time to adjust to her employment, and I always intended on asking, later. I wanted to give her a bit of space." She pointedly did not look at the body. "I do not think there is anyone who would immediately seek her out though."
Eliza was regaining some composure, but Tomás ultimately concluded she did actually feel guilty about the death. He told himself that made it less reprehensible to help her. "Right."
"I'm sorry about this, well, fledgling sort of mess. I am asking for your assistance in cleaning it up."
Luna and Tomás shared a look. It had taken awhile to learn how to read Luna's expressions, with her huge bug-like eyes and oddly shaped mouth, but he understood her now. For better or worse, they were in this together—of course they would help. The fact that if the Prince ever does reappear and found out this coterie hijacked and killed one of her ghouls is something we should all want to avoid, anyway.
Tomás hated himself for even thinking about that right now, but he hated what he said next even more. "So, we, ah, need to handle the body. We need to hide it. Tonight. This is not something I have experience with."
"Yes well, before disposal, we need to prepare the body." Tomás suppressed a shudder. By 'prepare' he knew she meant removing all identifying features, something they had actually done just the previous night with a hunter's corpse. A gruesome process, and they had a hound's help back then. Eliza continued. "I can handle it, and I am no position to ask for assistance, but nevertheless, help would be welcome."
Whenever he looked at Delia's corpse he felt guilt, self-loathing, disgust—but the blood on her wrist also brought on his hunger. He can't imagine how he'd feel taking her apart.
Thankfully, Luna saved him. "I'll help."
"I, I will leave it to you two to it, then. But I will help with disposal. What will we do with her once you've finished?"
Eliza replied in that appreciative tone that made Tomás feel like he was not only making deals with the devil, but forming a friendship. "Thank you. I appreciate this more than you know. As far as disposal, nothing immediately comes to mind. We could always bury her in the woods."
The coterie debated their options, eventually deciding dropping the body parts in the ocean would be the best way, even though stealing a boat could present its own complications.
Luna and Eliza set out to complete the dirty work of taking apart the body, while Tomás stood guard outside.
If I could turn back time, just to when Eliza had met Delia—he put his hat back on as he scanned the desolate street of the community center—could I have stopped this?