41

Ms. Tremblay," Qui says without missing a beat. "Jordan. A vision, you say?"

Jordan nods, a sheepish expression on her face. "It's a big one. About Vivian Maier." As is the case with most Kindred of the Malkavian clan, Jordan is questionably blessed with strange abilities which manifest from individual to individual in different and unpredictable manners. Only days after her Embrace, Jordan had begun experiencing "visions" of the future. These glimpses of events to come were often incoherent jumbles of blurred images and words, but sometimes the gift provided a clear and unimpeachable truth that will invariably occur in reality. At least that's how she sees it. In truth, only a handful of Jordan's visions have come close to fruition, and even then it could be said that it was more out of coincidence than any true augury.

"What about Vivian?" Qui asks. "You're in one hell of a hurry."

"I found her wandering the streets downtown," Jordan says, eyes flicking between you and the Sheriff. "She had no idea who she was or how she'd gotten there. At first I thought she must be a mortal that looks just like her, but she's the real deal. I drove her back to her place and her butler was completely beside himself. He said she'd run out the door like a wild animal before he could catch her!"

"That's what I'd like to know," Qui grunts. "Assuming this news is true—no offense intended."

Jordan shrugs. "None taken. I'm used to it. As for what did it, I have no idea. She was like that when I found her."

"And you saw this in your vision?"

Jordan nods. "It makes a lot more sense now than it did at the time. I mean, as visions go, it wasn't a terribly exciting one."

"A Primogen losing her memory didn't seem important?" you reply, bewildered.

Her nose wrinkles. "I didn't know that at the time. It just looked like she was wandering aimlessly in the street looking confused. Not all of my visions are exciting, Mekuztli. Half the time they're just people going about their normal, boring lives."

"Where did you last see her?" Qui asks, drumming his fingers along his side anxiously.

"I left her back at her house, but I wasn't sure who to go to. I thought you might have some idea who to talk with." She looks at Qui again. "Situations like this can be…fragile."

"Damn right they can be fragile," the Sheriff grumbles as he waves his attachés to his side. "It looks like we're going to pay a visit to the Maier household."