DISCLAIMER: The Clan names, discipline names and structure, titles other things are copyrighted to White Wolf Game Studio neither I, nor this story, are affiliated with White Wolf or any of their associates or subsidiaries, nor I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative.
A/N: The actions in this story are based upon role-playing activities that did happen (except for the sex in later chapters because while the player of Stephen and Lollipop are married it's not to each other) so if anyone does not seem to fit the clan stereotypes…I'm blaming the players – so NAH!
Chapter 1: The Meeting
Las Vegas, Nevada
October 1992
Vincent Bruno walked towards the private elevator; his swift, determined stride was matched almost perfectly by his large entourage. His shoulder and chest were broad and clothed in a custom tailored black on black suit with a charcoal grey tie and a matte black tie bar bearing a bright red gem which matched perfectly to the ring he wore on his left pinkie. Jet black hair, which was graying slightly at the temples, had been meticulously styled and barely brushed the collar of his black jacket. The olive complexion of his skin, although pale, and his dark features revealed his Italian heritage as cold eyes barely acknowledged those who crossed his path. His head held high, he is an image of power and control that demands respect. Standing at almost 6 feet in height he towered over those who followed him, including his own daughter, Isabella Bruno who followed behind him and to his left.
Isabella inherited many of her father's traits; her hair a matching jet black as it trailed down her back, almost to her waist in a thick tight braid. Her eyes held the same cold look, but were a warm brown color instead of the near black of her father's. Her skin was the same pale olive but she used expertly applied makeup to bring out her skin tones and accent her eyes. She wore a tailored black pants suit, with red pinstripes and bright red silk top the matched the stripes in her pants and jacket. Her nails carefully manicured and painted with matching red tips, she wore no jewelry save a small ruby pin on her left lapel. She also did not wear heels; instead she wore rubber soled work boots which were made from black suede so as not to stand out too much against the rest of her suit. Her father had approved of the make up and nails, but sighed heavily when he saw the boots. While Isabella was a woman, he never saw her as a lady, a fact he would often remind her.
Vincent's most competent and favorite ghoul, Stephan Villos, walked behind him on Isabella's right. Stephan wore an expensive, although not tailored, slate grey suit, with a pale blue shirt and matching slate grey tie. His hair, also black, fell just to his collar in soft lazy curls, much to Vincent's disapproval, Stephan also was not fond of the length of his hair, but simply had not had a spare moment to get it cut. He normally kept it down; however, for tonight's meeting it was pulled back tightly and anchored in place using gel. His skin a rich smooth olive color from his time in the sun, his warm brown eyes quickly and carefully scanned the surroundings observing people, scanning for potential threats as the elevator neared.
Trailing behind was Vincent's other two ghoul's; Catherine Hamilton, and John Michelson. Catherine is a master when it comes to espionage and security, while John is brilliant in the ways of making money. They both wore matching slate grey suits with pale blue shirts. Catherine's short blonde hair was tied into a knot with a decorative wooden hair stick keeping it in place. John, almost nervously, readjusted his glasses as he followed his Regnant, falling slightly behind because of his bad leg and the need for a cane.
The group paused at the elevator, as Stephan pulled a cardkey from his jacket pocket and swiped it before entering a 6 digit code to open the private elevator. Vincent and Isabella were the first to enter the small room, followed by Catherine, John and finally Stephan who stood before their regnant, acting as a shield against potential attacks. Once inside Stephan again swiped the cardkey and pressed the button for the Penthouse. The doors quickly and quietly closed as Stephan returned the cardkey to his jacket pocket.
"Sire, why have you called this meeting?" Isabella asked, breaking the silence.
"I have some …concerns I need to discuss with the Primogen." He said his voice deep and melodious.
"What are these concerns that could not wait until next months meeting?" she pressed.
"Stephan." Vincent said, ignoring his daughter's question.
"Yes sir"
"John."
"Yes master?" John had not been given the privilege of addressing his regnant as anything other than 'master', except when in public, or surrounded by people.
"After tonight you two will belong to Isabella. John you will continue your finical duties." Vincent ordered.
"Yes master." John confirmed in a confused tone, looking at Vincent with a questioning look before returning his gaze to the front of the elevator.
"Stephan try to teach my daughter to be a lady and a Ventrue."
"Yes sir." Stephan affirmed his voice devoid of emotion.
"Father…?" Isabella was silenced by Vincent raising his hand to address his last ghoul.
"Catherine."
"Yes master?" She turned her head to look at him as best she could.
"After tonight you will belong to Emma Marks, as per an agreement I made with her sire."
"Yes master." She answered, turning back towards the front the elevator, she exchanged a curious and concerned look with John; Stephan, however, displayed no emotion at all.
"Sire, I have three ghouls all ready. Why give me yours?" Isabella asked, as startled by the sudden orders as everyone else.
"I have made negotiations that will supply me with three more ghouls." Vincent answered, not meeting his daughter's questioning stare.
"What negotiations? And with whom?"
"These negotiations do not concern you, my childe." He answered, his voice a little deeper than normal, a subtle warning that her questions were beginning to tread on dangerous ground.
"I have seen you master eight ghouls at one time." She continued to press, she was either oblivious to his warning or chose to ignore it.
"Isabella." He sighed. "Don't question my decision."
"Sire…father; these are your prized ghouls. You have spent decades training them to your specifications."
"Do not question my decision." Vincent repeated a little more forcefully.
"I will because it does not make sense, Stephan has been yours for fifty years."
"Thirty-one years." Stephan corrected, if it bothered him that they talked about him as if he were property, it was not evident in his voice or face.
"Fine, 31 years, of all your ghouls…Stephan? Why are you giving away Stephan?"
"Isabella." Vincent's voice was now an angry growl, John and Catherine cringed at the sound, Stephan; however, remained passive as ever. "You will stop this line of questioning and you will stop now." His voice was almost deafening in the small elevator.
Isabella sighed angrily, crossed her arms and agreed to stop with a simple "Fine." As though she were a teenage girl forbidden from going out. The rest of the ride was in silence, with only the soft hum of the elevator gears and motor filling the small room. The brightly polished doors slid open to reveal a long hallway with beige and tan walls and matching tan carpet, the occasional generic landscape painting hung on the walls and sporadic potted plan. At the far end of the hall stood a tall woman with shoulder length curly red hair, a deep crimson jacket with black pants and black silk shirt. Her eyes were covered by dark glasses and a matching crimson scarf was tied, fashionably, about her throat and an elegant black and crimson handbag in her left hand.
Stephan and Catherine, acting under the impression that no one would be on this floor, reached for their weapons, only to be none-too-gently shoved aside by Vincent. Stephan hit the elevator wall with his shoulder and Catherine was pushed into John, who caught her and did his best to prevent the pair of them from toppling over. Stephan quickly recovered, holstered his gun and made his way to follow his Regnant; Vincent raised a hand and stopped Stephan without as much as a glance back. Isabella made her way out of the Elevator with the obvious intentions of joining her father/sire.
"Mr. Bruno wishes a private meeting, and would not appreciate the disturbance." Stephan said in usual flat, yet polite tone.
"Surely not from me." Isabella said.
"Mrs. Bruno, your sire wishes his privacy in this matter." Stephan rephrased, refusing to move from Isabella's path. She thought for a moment and ultimately decided to heed Stephan's words. Catherine and John stepped from the elevator and waited patiently until summoned.
"My dear lady." Vincent warmly greeted, taking the woman's delicate right hand into his own and bringing it to his lips. "Has the conference room been set up as per my instructions?" Vincent asked. The woman nodded her face placid and body language expressionless.
"Good. Good. Here is the agreed amount." Vincent said pulling a large envelope from his inner jacket pocket and handing it to her; she quickly made the packet disappear into her purse without even glancing at the contents. Vincent signaled for his team to join him as he once again kissed the woman right hand and bid her a good evening.
The foursome was swift to respond, quickly catching up to Vincent, who again did not bother to look back as he waited for his crew. The mysterious woman bowed slightly to Vincent and wove her way through his ghouls, towards the elevator; John could not help but admire the woman's long legs that lead to up her firm backside and slender waist. She was defiantly a beauty.
"John, must I remind you the proper respect due onto a lady?" Vincent's voice all but boomed as the elevator doors slid open.
"No master, I am sorry." John quickly breathed, his left leg throbbing with the forgotten pain of his last reminder.
"Be certain it does not happen again in my presence or I shall finish what I started with your leg." Vincent warned, never once looking at the now pale and trembling man.
"It won't happen again master, please forgive me." John hastily, yet sincerely said.
Vincent did not acknowledge the statement; instead his continued his journey the hallway towards a pair light tan door which did not match the carpet or walls, but was a beautiful accent. He paused at the door and turned towards this group, specifically his daughter.
"Isabella, I have a job that I was going to outsource; however, I feel your talents would be the best to address this problem." Vincent said, pulling a second yellow envelope from his inner jacket pocket and handing it to Isabella.
"A hit?" She asked, taking the envelope. Vincent rolled his eyes at his childe's bluntness, and expressed that he wants this problem resolved before dawn and explains that everything she needs is in the envelope.
"I won't let you down." She said, turning on her heel and heading back towards the elevator, not questioning her Sire's sudden confidence in her assassination abilities. Vincent sighed and shook his head, Isabella was not a typical Ventrue and there were times he questioned his decision to embrace her, but with luck she would prove herself among their peers. He watched her disappear into the elevator.
"Stephan, give me your gun." Vincent ordered, holding his pale cold hand out. Stephan immediately responded by pulling the Magnum from its shoulder holster and handing it, butt first to his Regnant.
Vincent looked at the gun. "No, the other one; the one loaded with Dragon's Breath." This was an unusual command, while mentally Stephan mulled it over, his face and eyes did not betray his curiosity as he immediately picked up the Magnum, returned it to its holster and produced a Glock from the small of his back which he immediately handed to Vincent, who turn the safety off and slipped the weapon into his jacket pocket.
"We only have a few moments to ensure the room is perfect. Make certain everything is in place." Vincent ordered.
All three acknowledged his order, and then followed him into the large room. The room was large enough to comfortably seat the six represented Clans in Las Vegas as well has room for any ghouls or servants they may wish to bring. Catherine, quickly made certain that there plenty of chairs and that the chairs around the table, while John opened the blinds, allowing a breathtaking view of the Las Vegas Strip to be seen, Stephan went to the bar at the far end of the room and arranged six lead crystal water glasses. Vincent casually examined one of the two large pillars at the far end of the room, running his hand along the cold hard surface she had done amazing work this seemingly innocent looking decorative pillar was a custom made butane tank. Vincent smiled ever so faintly to himself, the gas in these pillars, plus the exploding Dragon Breath rounds would defiantly cause the purification he was planning.
"Sir, there is a bottle of vitae in the refrigerator." It was more a question than a statement.
"The lady I was speaking to placed it here. Present it with the glasses, and be certain it is not left behind at the end of the meeting."
"Yes sir." Stephan answered, as Vincent again returned his attention to the column. Stephan, being extremely observant, noticed his Regnant's fascination and decided to voice his observations.
"Sir, if I may be so bold, these columns are not part of the room's original architecture. Is this an item I need to be concerned about?"
"Why do you ask?"
"They have defiantly captured your attention, sir, and you requested my firearm. The last time you requested my sidearm our home in Italy was attacked."
"You are very observant, but then again you always have been. It was one of the reasons I chose you….I have such plans." Vincent said his voice trailing off, he suddenly sounded very tired as he again turning his attention to the column. "But for now I want you and John to man the doors, do not close them until everyone has arrived; Catherine, take your place." Vincent ordered his voice again strong and commanding.
The Primogen of Las Vegas began arriving promptly at 9PM John, due to his limp, spent most of his time manning the door and greeting each Kindred as they came into the room; Stephan escorted each lady to her seat and politely pulled her chair. Vincent sat at the head of the table with Catherine standing as a stoic statue to his right. Once everyone had arrived and was sitting they began speaking and arguing among themselves. Stephan took his place to Vincent's left as John closed the door and stood immediately behind Vincent, leaning heavily upon his cane as his leg had begun to ache. Vincent sat at the head of the table unmoving, his fingers laced together, as he surveyed his fellow Primogen, his black eyes colder than normal as they continued to bicker among themselves.
These people made him sick; they called themselves Kindred, the master race over the humans, and look at them, bickering like children over toys. He knew for a fact that some were even fornicating with their ghouls, a disgusting fascination he could not understand, and to him copulation with a ghoul was the same as sex with an animal, the idea made him nausea; a sensation he had not experienced in almost 150 years. None of them deserved the vitae that flowed through their veins; they were all a waste of Cain's precious gift. He studied each of them and could not find a single one worthy of immortality. He was going to tell these people exactly what he thought of them and petty little squabbles. Las Vegas needs to be purged, and the Primogen need a trial by fire…only those with the Dark Father's blessings would survive.