2026-03-18 13:25 - 16:32 PST
Gabriela drove Francesca to her house, where her sister Marta saw them in. Gabriela informed Marta what happened, that Mazhar had appeared, said Augustus Giovanni was dead, and Ernesto followed right after.
Marta explained Mazhar was a member of clan Cappadocian, a dead clan whose founder was diablerized by Augustus Giovanni (the founder of clan Giovanni). With Augustus dead, and Ernesto, the Anziani of the entirety of California killed, it was unclear who would take over. Gabriela asked about Fiora, as she was something like the family’s equivalent of a Harpy.
“She is, why do you-” It dawns on her. “That bitch.” Marta bristles. “Francesca, don’t say such a thing. Maybe the clan needs her leadership-” Francesca snaps: “A Milliner Anziani? They’re already trying to take the whole country from the Giovanni family!”
Gabriela asked what the deal with the the Milliners was. Not all Giovannis were named Giovanni. It was a clan comprised of several families, the Milliners being the newest rising star family. With the Giovanni going up in flames, the Dunsirns would likely take Scotland, the Pisanobs would take Mexico and Central America, while the Milliners would claim the US.
“For about seventy years now, the Milliners have, as they like to claim, singlehandedly helped the Giovanni establish themselves in this country. Staking claims in land and markets, pushing back against greedy Camarilla or violent Anarchs, wiping Giovanni family asses and kissing them clean, all for the sake of the clan.” “The Milliners know this country like a mother knows her children. They’ve tied it up in a neat little bow, gifting it the Giovannis. All for…nothing.” Francesca sighs. “That part is true. The Giovannis take and take, but they don’t give much. That’s the one thing all the families, from Dunsirns to Milliners to Pisanobs to everyone in between, can agree on.”
Francesca was ready to pack up and leave with Marta back to Mexico City. Then, Gabriela asked what would happen if Fiora wasn’t in the picture.
Marta explains, “Well, the way it usually works, is that every family puts forth their candidate. The Maestro, the person who represents all the country’s Giovanni, makes the decision on who leads the clan in any given area.” “The Dunsirns, Milliners, Pisanobs, and other family members will try to become the next Anziani. But the job usually goes to a Giovanni.” Francesca rolls her eyes. “The Pisanobs have no chance of gaining any power here. None of the families except the Giovannis or the Milliners do.”
But right now, the Maestro had bigger problems than selecting a new Anziani, with Augustus dead. In the meantime, even if only temporarily, someone other than the Milliners or the Giovanni could wrest control. Francesca, as the eldest in age and generation, would be the Pisanobs’ candidate, and Fiora was the obvious choice for the Milliners. The other families, she wasn’t sure. However, there’d be a meeting soon. Gabriela asked to let her know when and where, and the Pisanobs offered to shelter her for the night.
First, though, she’d have to pick up Sam. She called her, and went to pick her up. After ushering her to the car, Gabriela spotted Marouth heading toward her door. She left Sam to drive to Francesca’s on her own while she confronted Marouth.
Sam drives off without issue and without making that much of a scene. Gabriela returns to her apartment, seeing Marouth waiting at the door. Marouth looks furious. “Why did you stop me from killing that Giovanni woman?”
“Come inside.” She’ll reach past Marouth to open the door.
Marouth follows Gabriela inside. “I thought we were working together, and you turned your back on me. All to save that girl’s life.”
She closes the door after her. “We are working together. I thought you wanted the Giovanni to stay independent?”
“You trust that thing? Do you think it was keeping count?” She sighs. “I ran into it the other night, before the gala.”
Marouth shivers. “You did?”
Gabriela explained she’d saved Marta, Francesca’s sister, and now two of the eldest Pisanobs in Sacramento owed her their lives. Moreover, if they could get the Pisanobs to beat out the Milliners, they’d have a good shot at maintaining Giovanni independence.
Marouth shakes her head. “Irene won’t be happy.” “That woman scares me.”
“Are you working with her willingly, or just because you owe her.”
“Both.” “She promises me that I will take my city back. She guards me from the Hound of the Sheriff.”
“What’s in it for her.”
“She has some vendetta against the Tremere. She wants to rescue her beloved from its clutches. That beloved, the Hound of the Sheriff herself.”
Gabriela told Marouth to put the blame on her if Irene gave her any trouble for the gala’s events1, despite the warning that she was worse than the Hound. Marouth would return to Irene, come up with a new plan, and then return to Gabriela to see if she’ll go along with it. Next time, she’d get a phone and call before dropping by, and they’d meet at a quiet spot by the river. They parted ways.
Finally, on the way to Francesca’s house, Gabriela ran into Mordecai in a dark alley. Apparently, he’d just finished dealing with a Necromancer. He asked what happened at the gala. Gabriela explained the abstract, that an ancient vampire with a grudge against the Giovanni2 had attacked. She warned him not to go after it.
“I don’t care how old this vampire is. A few incendiaries will end him. Where did he attack?”
“Hayes.” She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t.”
Mordecai scoffs. “I’m not the one dropping the incendiaries. But I need a location.”
“Right now its grudge is exclusively against other vampires. Everyone’s going to have their eyes on this. If anyone else gets involved, they’re going to have eyes on them too. Hound is already gunning for Rosewater. The last thing you need right now is more attention.”
He grunts. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll shake down a different necromancer.”
“I get what you think you’re doing, Mordecai. But right now you’re acting rashly. The machinations of elder vampires are measured in centuries. You’ve been around less than a decade. Act wisely.”
Mordecai ignores Gabriela. “Be seeing you.” He walks off, vanishing.