A/N: Sequel to "Thicker Than Water." This story takes place in a VtM:B AU sorta, just in the fact that the game hasn't taken place. There has been no Ankaran Sarcophagus, no Gehenna, etc. I'd say it was BEFORE the events of the game, but I doubt I could make an excuse for some characters' actions in this fic and then reverting to the way they are in Bloodlines. So we'll call this slightly AU. Enjoy!

Trying unsuccessfully to hide a sigh, I stared at the numbers at the top of the elevator, wishing it could go faster. 22, 23, 24,... "Don't you tap your foot at me; this is important!" I bit my lip guiltily and looked up through my eyelashes at the man next to me, giving him my sweetest "oopsie" look. He wasn't buying it. He knew me too well. My grandfather gave me his patented "why do you do this to me?" look that I was getting all too used to seeing, partially because my mother would give me the same look when I was a kid. "Come on, Nat, seriously. You know LaCroix's gonna have my neck if he starts thinkin' I'm not doin' my job to get all this in your head!" He tapped my forehead with the knuckle of his index finger lightly; and I pulled back, rubbing the spot he'd tapped and pouting.

"I'm gettin' it!" I protested, instantly knowing it was the wrong thing to say. Every time I tried to assure him that I wasn't blowing him off, he'd just give me "that look" and repeat himself. Like now.

"Look, I know you're getting into the whole 'vampire culture' and all that; but some of 'em are startin' to talk," he said, glancing up at the numbers with me. 43, 44,... "They say that you're one o'them blood addicts. The kind of ghoul that no one wants around."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "They're idiots, then. I've only had blood three times in six months." My grandfather's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Mercurio. Seriously. Do you think I'd lie to you?" I asked him. We'd agreed that I'd call him by his first name, considering the fact that calling a man "grandpa" was just weird when he looked only a few years older than myself.

Resigned, he sighed and shook his head. "I hope not."

"Hey!" I was hurt. Insulted. I turned to him with my fists clenched, but we'd finally reached the 70th floor, and the elevator doors opened.

Mercurio stepped out of the elevator with me hot on his heels. "Hey, ladies," he greeted the two women sitting at desks that sat opposite each other. Your run of the mill secretaries, except these drank blood. I never saw them apart, nor did I ever see them outside this office. It made me wonder if they drank each others' blood to survive, always instantly followed with the question as to whether or not vampires could even do that.

"Mr. LaCroix wants to see you," one of the women said. "He wants you to go up right away."

Frowning, Mercurio took the envelope she held out to him and opened it. His eyes scanned the note inside quickly before he tucked it into an interior pocket of his blue jacket. "He seem pissed?" he asked. The women looked at each other, then went back to typing. "Shit. Come on, Nat."

Confused, I followed him back into the elevator. He punched the button that stated "PH" with his thumb, then crossed his arms over his chest. His brow was furrowed in thought. "What would he be mad at you for?" I asked gently, suddenly worried. Sebastian LaCroix, our boss and the one I inwardly referred to as the head vampire around these parts, was one hell of a powerful person; and I'd heard he was more dangerous than he was powerful.

Mercurio gave me a look. "'Member what we were just talkin' about on the way up here?" he asked. I could tell he was trying to be gentle, but his voice had an edge to it that made me cringe.

"What did I do?" I asked.

"Look. I'm glad you've made friends here, but..." He shrugged. "It just really doesn't look too good when you're workin' for the main man in town and then goin' around with Nines Rodriguez." I sighed. Nines. That's what this was about. I opened my mouth to speak, but Mercurio cut me off by holding his hand up. "Everyone's startin' to say that you'd go anywhere to get blood, and that Nines knows it. They think you're workin' for the Camarilla for the money, and whoring yourself to the Anarchs for blood from whoever wants to—you know..." I raised my eyebrow at him, making him finish the thought. "Whoever wants to...take advantage of you."

"Fuck me, you mean?" I asked, seething. Mercurio made a face, but nodded. He didn't like hearing me talk like that. In spite of his youthful appearance, he was very much my grandfather. I gritted my teeth together. "Look, it's not like that with Nines," I explained. I wasn't about to admit that I'd imagined it being "like that" regarding Nines several times while alone in my apartment. I didn't want his blood. I just wanted him...like that...; and as a blush came to my face, I realized I should probably shut down all those thoughts right there and take a cold shower as soon as I got home.

"So what's it like, then?" Mercurio asked. He looked almost angry now. He was fiercely loyal to LaCroix and the Camarilla, I knew; and he wouldn't tolerate his granddaughter being any less, especially since my moving to Santa Monica had nearly gotten us both killed.

"He's just a friend," I explained. "He's a nice guy. I don't even think he knows I work for LaCroix."

Mercurio scoffed. "He knows. You think anyone in this town doesn't know? He knows."

"How can you be so sure?" I asked. "I've never talked about work. I've never even mentioned you."

The elevator doors opened in front of us revealing a hallway ending in double doors to LaCroix's office. "Believe me," Mercurio said in a hushed voice. "LaCroix doesn't take on new ghouls without it being noticed. I was his last one before you came to town." My mouth dropped open. I had figured everyone working in Venture Tower who wasn't a vampire had been his ghoul. Mercurio nodded at my reaction. "Yeah. You were big news once people found out whose blood you were drinkin'."

"But...but...I've only had it three times!"

"Which is weird too," he said, stopping in the middle of the hallway to turn to me. "I get mine once a month. Why's he holdin' out on yours for two?" Mercurio studied me, but I knew he was only trying to figure out an answer to his question.

I shrugged. "I always got the impression he only gave it to me when I got annoying with hanging around."

"What do you mean?"

Shrugging again, I replied, "I just noticed that it's almost like he wants me to shut up and go away. I get antsy, want something to do; so I come here to find out if there's anything available. After a few times of coming around, one of the girls downstairs has a blood pack for me."

His eyes narrowed. "You get restless, then keep comin' 'round here?" I nodded. "He's takin' you to the edge of withdrawl." His eyes stayed on my face for a while longer, then he shook his head. "Not as if it's gonna hurt you or nothin'. Just no reason that I can see for it." He shrugged, then finally turned around and walked to the double doors, pushing one of them open. I followed him in and closed the door behind us.

LaCroix was behind his desk, poring over paperwork. Mercurio cleared his throat, but LaCroix didn't look up. He knew we were there. He was merely making sure we knew he'd get to us when he was ready. Finally, after a couple minutes of uneasy silence, he spoke. "It has been brought--" He looked up as he spoke and paused when his eyes landed on me. I saw his jaw tighten, his eyes narrow slightly; and I wanted to turn and run from the office. His problem was definitely with me. He cleared his throat and started again. "Perhaps it's a good thing Miss Lucas accompanied you in spite of the fact that I called for you and you alone, Mercurio." I heard Mercurio clear his throat quietly, clearly uncomfortable. LaCroix stood, placing his fingertips on the polished wood surface of his desk and leaning forward on them. "After all, the matter which I had intended to bring to your attention directly involves her." His eyes were on me again. I had only seen the man one other time between the time he'd collected me from Santa Monica and now; I had a feeling, though, that no matter how many times I saw him between now and the end of my life, I'd never get used to the coldness in those eyes.

"I think I know what you're gonna say," Mercurio started, silenced by a look from LaCroix. I was glad to find I wasn't the only one that look had that effect on.

"I'm sure you do." And the way his voice got so quiet like that creeped me out more than his eyes! It was like hearing a panther purring right before it pounced and started ripping at the flesh of its pray. Creepy. "Miss Lucas, there has been talk of your becoming friendly with a Mister Nines Rodriguez." He raised an eyebrow as he studied me. "Is this true?"

I tried to wet my lips, but my tongue had turned into cotton. Trying to swallow my nervousness, I found my throat had become velcro. I finally just had to cough to be able to speak. "Uh, yes. Yes, sir."

The eyebrow again. And the eyes narrowing again. Ever heard the term "shooting daggers from the eyes"? LaCroix was a master at it. Those eyes were tossing glinting silver daggers straight at my face, and it was all I could do to keep from wincing. "I see," he said simply, straightening his posture and clasping his hands behind his back. "This friendship could be a problem, Miss Lucas. It does not reflect well on me to have you cavorting with Anarchs."

"I didn't realize that everyone was making such a big deal about it!" I said, jumping to my own defense. I felt Mercurio nudge me with an elbow, but it didn't stop me. He should know by now that it never does. "I mean, I had no idea that your claiming me as your ghoul was big news around vampire society! If I had, I would have been a little more discreet; but I didn't think it would matter!"

LaCroix's face was blank, but his lips pressed together a little harder. "Discreet," he echoed. The word wrapped itself around those silver daggers like a poison. This time I did wince a little. "If you had, Miss Lucas, I would have hoped that you would not have started a friendship with Mr. Rodriguez at all." I stayed silent this time. LaCroix slowly stepped out from behind his desk. "Mercurio."

"Y—yes, sir?"

"Miss Keller downstairs has your blood. You may collect it on your way out."

Mercurio nodded, glancing at me. "Yes, sir. Uh...does that mean you want me to go?"

"You may leave." I got goosebumps from the ice in LaCroix's words. Plus, he was taking my security blanket—Mercurio--away from me.

Mercurio nodded and met my eyes quickly before he left. Sorry, kiddo, his expression said. I tried to give him a smile, but it's hard to do when your concentration is solely devoted to not peeing yourself.

After the door closed, there was a heavy silence in the room. LaCroix was staring at me; I could feel it. I didn't dare look him in the eyes. As stupid as it sounds, I felt like those daggers his eyes shot at me were real; and I'd probably start to bleed from the eyes if I looked up at him. After a couple minutes of silence, I began to wish there was a clock or something in that office for me to listen to. I cleared my throat gently. "I didn't--"

"Quiet," LaCroix commanded, the force of his voice making me take an involuntary step back. "You will tell me everything that has happened between you and Nines Rodriguez, every detail that you have said to him." I finally looked up at him to see if he was serious. Not only could I tell that he was serious, but I could also tell that he was majorly fuckin' pissed off. His fists were clenched at his sides, and I almost thought I could detect a slight tremble to them. His jaw and his lips were working ever so slightly, and that alone made me fear that my next words would be cut off by him biting my head off. Literally.

I took a deep breath, lowering my eyes to the floor. "There's not much to tell," I started. "I went to The Last Round for a drink one night because I was..." Weakness and emotion were two things I didn't want to show right now in front of this predator I called my boss, but he wanted everything. "...I was lonely. I needed to be around people." I shrugged. "He came downstairs when I was sitting in a booth, and he came over to me to talk. Said he'd never seen me in there before. We just talked the rest of the night, but work never came up. I didn't think he knew who I was. Like I said, I didn't know I was a big deal in town."

There was that crushing silence again. Finally, a sigh from the other side of the room made me risk a look up. LaCroix had lowered his head and was massaging his temples with his fingertips. If only I could count so high that I could put a number to the times I'd seen my dad do the same in response to something my brother or I had done. "Let me put this simply, Miss Lucas," he said in that same predatory purr that had given me goosebumps earlier. "I don't give my blood lightly." He looked up, but his expression wasn't quite so severe anymore. He sighed again. "I suppose I should have taken it upon myself to inform you of this as well as the fact that rumors would undoubtedly abound the moment those working here learned of your arrival. Especially once it became common knowledge as to why you were coming around here."

I frowned. "Rumors?"

His expression grew amused. "You don't listen to those around you often, do you?" I shook my head. "You should. It would serve you well to do so." Clasping his hands behind his back, he began to pace in front of his desk. "I'm yet to find the origin of the most rampant rumors, but I've no doubt they're Anarch in nature. After all, who else would it amuse to spread rumors that you and I, Miss Lucas, are lovers?"

My jaw dropped. "I...no, I...I hadn't heard that," I stammered. "I...why didn't Mercurio...he would have mentioned something to me."

LaCroix gave me a tight smile. "He doesn't spend much time downtown. Santa Monica is a little out of the loop, so to speak." I nodded. "And your being seen with Nines Rodriguez has done nothing but fuel the rumor fires. Now I look like the fool whose lover is cavorting behind his back with someone abashedly opposed to the Camarilla." Any traces of amusement were gone from his face. "I trust you're beginning to see the problem."

I chuckled, trying to disguise it as a cough as his frown deepened. "So...wait, lemme get this straight. You're not so upset about the fact that people are saying we're lovers. Instead, you just don't want to look like the jilted lover that I left for Nines?" His eyes narrowed to slits. "Does that mean you want to go along with the first rumor?" I asked, grinning.

Bad idea. His fists were back at his side. And now he was showing his fangs. Fuck. "Miss Lucas, I'd advise you to take me more seriously than you seem to be," he said through gritted teeth. The purr was gone from his voice. It was full on growl now. I gulped and nodded. It took every ounce of will power I had in me to stand my ground when he started walking towards me. By the time he stopped, he was less than a step in front of me; and I was feeling lightheaded. Remembering to breathe helped the dizziness, but I was still shaky. "Understand my position," he said softly, looking down at me. "I made you my ghoul to ensure your loyalty would be unquestioned. Yet that's exactly where this affiliation of yours with Mr. Rodriguez has led: a public questioning of your loyalty to me." I nodded again, my eyes locked on his. I couldn't look away. I was too terrified that he'd take it as an insult. "I don't wish to keep you prisoner here merely to chase away their rumors of infidelity, especially since I'm far from fond of the original rumor as it is. However, if my hand is forced, you will be finding yourself spending at least the nighttime hours of the day in this tower, the key to your room only available to me." His expression took on an evil shadow. "After all, if you're spending most of your time here, you obviously wish to spend more time with your lover, no?"

I got the message loud and clear: stop spending time at The Last Round with Nines and his friends or be made LaCroix's prisoner. Ultimatums—something I've always hated and rebelled against. I had a split second to decide if I was going to rebel or give in to this one.

Did I mention that I'm a stubborn, prideful bitch? No? Well, I am. That makes me unbelievably stupid at times.

I narrowed my eyes, showing my own teeth. I didn't have fangs; but goddammit, my teeth have done some pretty good damage when I'd gotten into fights with haughty bitches at school. "I think you're more 'fond' of the original rumor than you care to admit," I said. "You wanna lock me up, force me into a solitary existence? Want me to be your little trophy? Why don't we get married too? That'd look good! Sebastian LaCroix, CEO and family man! Dress me up, put me on your arm, show Nines that you've got me and he doesn't!"

That's where I stopped being able to breathe. His hand tightening on my throat may have had everything to do with that. When had he grabbed me? "I've never wished I had killed you, Miss Lucas," he hissed, bringing his face mere centimeters away from mine. "Don't force me to wish it now. I tend to make my wishes come true." My hands were pulling at his now as I struggled to swallow, to breathe, to stay conscious. He let me struggle for two seconds more before letting me go and turning his back to me.

When his grip was gone, I dropped to my knees, coughing and rubbing my throat. "Okay, okay, no wedding, no trophy," I croaked. I felt my lips pull back from my teeth again as I looked up at him, standing so straight in his designer suit, thinking himself so much better than all the rest of the world, thinking that he was my benefactor and I owed him so much for saving my life. I did; but at that moment, I wasn't willing to remember that. "You must just want an excuse to lock me up so you can fuck me whenever you want, right? Make me your secret concubi--"

He had my shirt in his fists at my shoulders, pulling me to my tiptoes. My hands were on his forearms, trying to pull away; but he was too strong. "Why do you insist on vexing me, Miss Lucas?" he said. I could have sworn he drew out the s's in "Miss Lucas," giving me the impression he really was hissing. "Do you wish I'd killed you six months back?" I shook my head. "Then, why?"

He really did want an answer to the question. "I...I...don't know. Bad habit."

LaCroix's eyes looked straight into mine. "That's a habit that will get you into a lot of trouble," he said before setting me down and stepping back. "Break it. And find something better to do than Nines Rodriguez."

"I'm not doing Nines!" I protested, straightening my shirt. LaCroix gave me a bored expression, crossing his arms over his chest. "I told you. We've only talked. Work has never been brought up. He doesn't ask me what I do or who I work for. I don't volunteer it."

"He knows for whom you work," LaCroix reminded me with a sigh.

"Yeah, maybe, but he's never tried to prod into what's going on around here or in the Camarilla."

That made the corners of LaCroix's mouth twitch in a near-smile. "Because he knows you're too new to be trusted with anything too important."

My mouth dropped open, then shut again. "Fine. If that's the case, why do you keep me around?" My turn to cross my arms in front of me.

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't have to explain my priorities or reasoning to those who work for me, Miss Lucas. However, since this is something we've already discussed in the past, I'll remind you that you are 'kept around' more for Mercurio's sake than my own."

I scoffed. "Yeah. I know he's 'an asset' to you or whatever you've said, but I don't think that'd mean jack shit if he wanted something that didn't mesh with what you want to do around here."

His jaw tightened again. "Let me make this simple for you," he said, moving close to me once more. I could smell his cologne and flashed back to his limo for a split second, falling asleep against him, being awakened when we arrived at my new apartment by his gently saying my name and touching my face. I'd thought that he might actually not be such a bad guy at that time. Now, though, as he was barely an inch away from me and was looking at me with death in his eyes, I just wanted to get out of that office and go back to our meetings being few and far between. "You have no right to question me. I give you an assignment, you do it, I pay you. That's called 'being my employee,' Miss Lucas. Along with that comes responsibility to represent this organization. You, however, are unique in the fact that you have drunk my blood no less than three times and are known throughout this city as not only my employee—of which I have many—but also my ghoul—of which I have two. Therefore, you represent not only the LaCroix Foundation, you represent me. Am I getting through to you at all, Miss Lucas?"

I nodded and fought the instinct to step back and cower in front of him. "Yes, sir," I replied meekly.

"Good. Now prove it by doing your assignments as you receive them and by stopping your association with those Anarchs at their little dive immediately." With that, he turned and began to walk back to his desk.

"Um, sir?" I asked softly.

He stopped but didn't turn back to me. "Yes?" he asked, annoyance dripping from the word.

"Mercurio and I were talking," I said, trying to choose my words carefully. I didn't want to piss him off any more than I already had that night. I might not survive to see sunrise. "He thought it was odd that I get blood every two months and he gets his every month."

There was a moment of silence, then a soft chuckle. "Jealous, Miss Lucas?"

I shook my head hard, even though he still had his back to me. "No! I just...was curious as to the reason behind the timing." There. That sounded like a good little employee, right?

Another few seconds passed, then LaCroix looked over his shoulder at me, shooting me an icy glare. "Did I not just say that I have no obligation to explain my reasoning to you?"

I bit my lip nervously. "You did, I know. I was just curious. I didn't think there was harm in asking."

He turned around fully then, a thoughtful expression on his face. I decided he was trying to determine if he wanted to bother humoring me. "I'm getting a feel for your timing," he said finally.

"My timing?"

"How long it takes you to exhibit what most refer to as 'withdrawl symptoms' with your current workload. Mercurio gets his once a month because he does more work than you currently do. When you begin to receive more tasks, your blood intake will increase. It's all based on what's expended, Miss Lucas."

"So...it's kinda like food. It gets used up faster if we do more?"

"Remember, Miss Lucas, that for Kindred, it is food. For you, it is similar to a supplement. Either way you regard it, however, your conclusion is correct."

I nodded, happy and surprised I'd actually gotten an answer from him. "Thank you," I said, inclining my head slightly. I don't know why I did it, but it seemed like the respectful thing to do.

When I looked back up at him, LaCroix was almost smiling. "Was your question a hint at something?"

I licked my lips without thinking. It hadn't quite been two months, and I wasn't feeling restless without it, but the feeling that drinking his blood gave was absolutely exhilarating, and I couldn't deny that. My last couple fixes had come from a plastic blood pack, which meant they weren't quite the experience my first taste was, drinking straight from his wrist. However, that didn't mean that I was left unaffected; the taste alone was enough to give one the sensation of pure bliss. "Um...not hinting, sir," I said, ducking my head. I looked up through my eyelashes at him. "Though I'd never turn down the opportunity to receive some a little early..."

I could tell LaCroix was regarding me with amusement. My heart leaped when he turned away, beckoning me to him with a crook of his finger. I followed him to his desk, stopping beside him as he removed his long coat. Reminding me of the first time I'd tasted his blood, his motions echoed what he'd done that first night in the limo: taking off the cufflink, giving it to me to hold, rolling up his sleeve, raising the underside of his pale wrist to his fangs, piercing his own skin and lowering his arm to let me see the deep red liquid beginning to well up and drip. As a crimson drop began to run down his arm, he swiped at it with a finger. Gently, he touched that finger to my lips, rubbing the coppery liquid onto them like a morbid lip stain. The feather-light touch combined with the scent of his blood made me feel weak in the knees, and I had to steady myself with a hand on his desk. My eyes fluttered shut as my tongue chased his fingertip, licking the blood from my lips. My tongue finally caught his finger, licking the blood off it before I took it in my mouth. As the taste of blood faded, my apparently fragile senses began to return; and I opened my eyes. My heart rate increased merely from the look in his eyes. It told me, "I own you."

I returned the wordless look with another hard suck on his fingertip, my tongue playing lightly on the underside of it. "Yes, master."

His tongue flicked his own lips as he pulled his finger away, replacing it with his wrist in front of my mouth. I took his hand in mine and turned his wrist around to lick the back of it where the blood had trailed, tracing the red stream back up to the wound where it originated with my tongue. My eyes never left his face, and it excited me to see him lick his lips once more, then a second time as I began to drink from the wound. Again, my eyes closed as the liquid began to take over my senses, heat coursing through me. I imagined I could feel it spreading through me, reaching to my fingers and toes, flushing every inch of my skin. At least, I think I imagined it. I was vaguely aware of his other hand brushing my hair back, his fingers tangling in my hair at the back of my head. I stopped and looked up at him with clouded eyes.

The corners of LaCroix's mouth turned up in a small smile before he put his wrist to his mouth to close the wound. As I licked the blood from my lips, I noticed the red stain that the wound left on his mouth. My blood-fogged mind briefly considered licking it from his lips, then I snapped to my senses and felt myself blush. His smile grew as if he had known what I was thinking. He held my eyes with his own as his tongue slowly collected the blood from his lips; and I looked away, feeling dirty and turned on at the same time. "Cufflink, Miss Lucas," he said, jolting me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, sorry." I handed it back to him.

"I trust our conversation will not be forgotten?"

I shook my head. "No, sir. Thank you."

"I'll email when I need you." I nodded and tried not to hurry out of his office, still licking my lips and tasting him there. My thoughts wandered to what it'd be like to bite his lip mid-kiss, tasting his kiss and blood together. As a self-inflicted punishment, I bit my own lip. Hard. As I got in the elevator, I tasted my own blood; but I could still taste his as well. I leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator as I rode to the ground-floor, not trusting my shaky legs to support myself much longer. Yes, a cold shower would definitely be needed as soon as possible. Nines who?