There wasn't any race. The moment Yanci pateintly walked into the four car garage and plucked the purple key with the black stripes, any race was over. Midnight purple low gloss paint over the steel skin and frame of the 1971 Plymouth Hemi Barracuda. The interior was black leather, it's age on par with that of it's kindred owner with the care that went into it's upkeep. Bucket seats and a dash from another age in human history, and all Yanci had to do was wait for Henry to get in. He wasn't far behind. A side glance when he sat revealed his grin, and instantly she knew why.

Yanci had given Eva this car as a birthday present. Of course she'd take this one. 425 Horsepower and 490 ft-lb of Torque didn't hurt either. 

Didn't hurt for her that she was a better driver than Gwen. 'Catlin' was an expert driver, and was tasked with everything from stealing cars to driving get-away cars. She was one of L.A.'s best for decades, and was apparently the source to some pretty wild theories from the LAPD. None, according to one of her favorite LAPD contacts, were even remotely close to the simplicity of the truth. Back wheels smoked grey, and there was no point to music or talking while the race was on: the car's massive engine was simply too loud. At the occassional traffic light Yanci simply looked at Henry and smiled, wondering to herself if she could hide her fear in front of him, or hide anything from him. 

[i]Just driving Lucifer to the chic kindred watering hole.[/i]

A side road, a daring dash through a back alley, and a careful dart through a massive parking lot got Yanci all the room she'd need to rub Gwen's face in it. Parking wasn't even difficult, which seemed to Yanci like some kind of club owner magic trick, given the LA way of things. Parking was so primordially evil not even Henry, not even Lucifer himself, could be be held responsible. The Plymouth hugged up against the curb across the street from the club. A long haired hispanic man with height and weight to him stepped out from the small gallery across the street, an old brown biker jacket over a black buttonup mixed with a pair of gray LeBron 15's at the bottom of old blue jeans. Yanci had added a black denim jacket that didn't quite reach her waist, something tucked in the car--something she was actually putting on when the man stepped up to the curb. Smiling.

"Yance."

The Tremere 'boss' of LA was jumped, the hug so fast and without regard to gravity that Mateo was forced a few steps back on the sidewalk. With awkward happiness Mateo helped her down, laughing at her. "I know it's been a while girl, but damn...Henry." Mateo offered Henry a quick wave, before a weight pulled itself down over her former coterie mate's features. "Listen, Yance, I'm sorry for the distance but I think we both know why."

She had never blamed him for that. "No, it's okay Matty. Promise."

"Good. I've seen Eva. Not directly, but the chantry have seen signs of her. In looking deeper into things...something is here. It's not just India. The Camarilla and the Sabbat both are--"

It was a good time to step in, she thought, "--Gehenna is coming, Matty. I know Eva's active in one way or another, even if not physically. I've spoken to her. She's the one who told me it's coming."

His brown eyes squinted, a few moments of silence as his brain worked it out. "Think she could be wrong? Gehenna is a web of threads, of countless small actions and incidents weaving into larger events at just the right time to have their impact. Then again, India..."

"Something else is going on, Mat. Stay low, and please stay safe." She'd lost so many of their coterie to final death in the chaos and conflict of the past few years. Now Gehenna? Thanks, LA. There wasn't much else she could say to him here, in the open. He only surprised her by reaching in to hug her before saying goodbye, and escaping back into the small gallery. Except when the gallery's glass door closed behind him, there was no sign of him. Yanci tilted her head at the bizarre sight, only to chuckle at Matty-O the Magician. 

"Ready, Henry?" 

Before he could answer the Ferrari pulled up, it's windows down as an impossible bass beat came out deafening before being turned down to simply annoying. Gwen leaned over Sam, and glared at the Plymouth. "You're a cheater, Yanci. I'm going to park. See you guys inside." The Ferrari prowled forward before turning behind the building. Yanci finished fixing the cuffs to her denim jacket sleeves, a quick smoothing of her long hair over the jacket with her left hand, and she was thanking Henry for opening the door to Gallery 66. Of course when she stepped in and took a look around, the first thing she saw?

Nicolaus. 

Of course. "Nicky," was all that slipped from Yanci's full glossed pale pink lips as she passed within biomes distance of the Ventrue, before stopping just past him, her chin tilting in his direction without ever turning back to see him, "you will have to tell me all about your recent drama in my city. Later." Maybe it was pettiness, maybe it was the singe of an old flame, but Yanci never did address the woman with him before moving on, hearing the door behind her as Gwen and Sam stepped in, looking like a couple of the Hollywood types that they were. Yanci made a beeline to a back booth, watching the scene as Gwendalyn all but smirked as she saw Nicolaus, greeting both the Ventrue and the girl with him before heading back to the booth, the tall blonde peeking on tippy-toes to find exactly who to ask about a drink.

"I think they'll come soon, Gwen."

The woman snickered at her. "Oh but it's never soon enough, sweetie."