One thing was certain: I wasn’t the prettiest vampire on the streets. I was part of the Brujah clan, known for its bare-fisted fighting rather than its charisma and good looks, like the Dentrue. Once again I failed to persuade a victim to follow me out of a club, and once again I made a mental note to work on my seduction skills. I needed blood badly, but I wasn’t going to crawl into the sewers and scamper around for rats like before.