The story and events are mine.
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********** The Hunt ********** ***** By Kelly Schweighauser *****
"Lorraina," Cash snapped. "Stop struggling."
The smaller Gangrel writhed away from him again and continued to fight with the necktie that wouldn't knot properly around her throat. When he tried to help her again she elbowed him the stomach.
"I've had an easier time subduing Brujah," he frowned at her. "Than getting you into that uniform."
"Bite me," Lorraina snarled. "Stupid get-up. Don't see why I have to wear it. He doesn't make you wear a suit."
"Lorraina," Cash said. "You're doing it backwards....don't turn it that way...put it around....Would you please let me do that for you? You are driving me crazy with that stupid thing."
Lorraina tore the necktie off and handed it to Cash. "You do it. You wear it. I agreed to drive his car, I don't see why that requires me to have a stupid piece of cloth around my neck."
"It's the tie or the skirt," Cash shook the twisted necktie in her face. "You wear one or the other if you're going to be the chauffeur for the Prince."
"You wear the skirt, Cash," Lorraina suggested. "You've got the legs for it."
"Whelp," he tried to cuff her across her head, but she seized his wrist and attempted to throw him. He changed his balance at the last second and they both tumbled to the floor.
"Leech," she snarled. "Corpse." She wrapped her arms around him, trying for a head-lock. He jerked free and elbowed her in her side.
"Anarch," he countered, going for a scissors-lock around her waist. She tried to bite him and got a mouthful of his leather jacket. He pressed his advantage, rolling on top of her. She tried to continue the roll to throw him off and ran against one of the elegantly paneled walls of the Luna Mansion.
"Had enough?" Cash grinned down at his Brood-Sister. "Say 'necktie'."
Lorraina convulsed, still determined to throw him off, but he had her pretty well pinned. Then her gaze went past him and her face went from play-anger to genuine dislike. Cash turned his head, but it was only Sasha coming down the stairs. Sasha looked at the two of them entangled on the floor, her face expressionless. Then she retrieved her cloak from the closet and stepped outside.
Cash got to his feet to follow her, disregarding Lorraina's angry hiss for him to stay and continue the fight. "Brujah-loving coward," she muttered to his back. Cash ignored her.
**********
The Haven made Frank nervous. It wasn't just that it was a vampire hang-out, and that he couldn't tell the Kindred from the humans. It was that The Haven was a hell of a lot nicer than most places he went drinking in. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he stuck out like a sore thumb. It wasn't going to be easy learning about Kindred society when he couldn't go undercover.
Frank sat at the bar and ordered a domestic beer. He hadn't really considered what his next move should be. Obviously he couldn't just ask people about vampires. Perhaps if he just stayed quiet and listened he'd overhear something, anything, that might point him in the right direction.
"Oh, no," a voice behind him whispered. "It's the police." Frank flinched as Lillie's light hand brushed his shoulder.
"Jesus, Lillie," he gasped, turning towards The Haven's elegant owner. "Don't sneak up on me like that."
Lillie settled on the stool next to him. She kept her hand on his arm. "Your heart is beating awfully fast, Frank. I didn't mean to frighten you."
Great, she could hear his heart banging its way out of his chest. So could every other Kindred in the room, probably. His grin was lopsided. "You have that effect on men, Lillie."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," she laughed. "What brings you in tonight? If you're looking for Julian, he's not here."
"No, I came cause I knew he was busy. I didn't particularly want to see him tonight."
Lillie's eyebrows rose. "Why, Frank," she said suggestively. "That sounds as if you came to see me."
Frank looked away quickly. God, she unsettled him. She was so beautiful and so deadly. "Umm, actually," he stammered. He had no idea what he could say to her.
She laughed again, musically. Her cool hand trailed up his neck and under his chin. Gently she turned his head to face her. "I know you didn't come to hear the band, Frank." Her eyes teased him gently. "So what kind of trouble are you looking for?"
"The Kindred kind," he confessed. "What else?"
She moved closer, so that her thigh touched his. "I'd say you found it."
She had that right. He tried to look away from her sea-green eyes and couldn't. He could drown in those eyes. She's a predator, Frank reminded himself. Lillie could rip out your throat out without even blinking. She's dangerous, she's Julian's, she's....
Lillie leaned over and kissed him, a gentle brush of her lips against his. It was sweet and innocent and filled with promise of so much more. She took his breath away. "Why don't we go somewhere ... quieter ...so we can talk?" He followed her upstairs without a protest.
**********
Cash caught up to Sasha just inside the mansion's gates. "Hey, what's with the sad face?"
"Nothing," Sasha paused. "I'm just... bored. I thought I'd go looking around the neighborhood. I'm allowed to do that, right?"
"Sure," Cash smiled. "I'll go with you. It's a nice night for a walk."
"I'd rather go alone, Cash," Sasha answered stiffly. She bit her lip and looked away, looking guilty as Hell. As far as Cash knew she hadn't done anything. "I'm feeling kind of boxed in. Like everybody is always looking at me, waiting for the Brujah freak to start trouble. I just need to be alone for a while."
Cash caught her arm though the soft folds of her cloak. "No one thinks of you that way, Sasha," he told her urgently.
"Lorraina does," Sasha shrugged off his arm. "All the Gangrel do, and almost everyone else, besides. No sweat, I can handle it."
Cash swallowed. Sasha was right, the Gangrel didn't like her. They couldn't see that she should have been one of them. "If you want to be with your own Clan for a while," he volunteered. It broke his heart to think of her with the Brujah.
"Hell no!" Sasha exclaimed. "I hate those bastards almost as much as you do, Cash. And I don't fit in there, either. All they talk about is guns and hurting people and how I should break up with you. It gets old real fast."
That was a relief to hear. The further she stayed away from her own Clan, the better. The Brujah were no where near good enough for her. But she must be lonely cut off from her own kind. Ever since he'd been Embraced Cash had been surrounded by the Gangrel pack. He couldn't imagine an existence without the company of his Clan-mates.
Sasha shifted her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. "I'll be back in a couple of hours," she muttered.
"Okay," Cash replied. He didn't want to leave her alone, his every instinct said for him to stay by her side. But she wasn't in his Clan, she was Brujah, and her needs were different. She said she wanted to be alone so he suppressed his intuition and turned back toward the mansion. "Don't get into any trouble," he called over his shoulder.
"I won't" Sasha assured him. When he turned around at the top of the steps she had disappeared into the night. He let himself back in the house wishing he had convinced her to let him walk with her. Maybe she'd be back before Julian wanted to go to out.
Julian was working in the library; Cash decided to join him. He sat on the leather sofa and thought about Sasha and the Brujah, Sasha and Lorraina, Sasha in her soft velvet cape with her wild hair spilling out of the hood. Lorraina had Embraced two more Gangrel since Stevie Ray made her, but Cash had never wanted to bring someone into the Clan until he met Sasha Luna.
Cash was so worried about her that he couldn't even work up his old familiar anger at Martin for stealing her when the Prince had given Sasha to him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Julian asked him.
Cash looked up, startled.
"Something is bothering you, Cash," Julian informed him. "It's obvious that you are upset. Do you want to talk to me about it?"
"It's Sasha," Cash told the Prince. Julian nodded his understanding. "She's been so unhappy recently. I'm worried about her."
"I've noticed how morose she has been," Julian confirmed. "Can you think of anything I could do to help her?"
Cash shook his head. "I can't think of anything anyone could do. But I hate to see her so miserable."
"Have you considered Blood Bonding her?" Julian asked.
Cash thought he had heard wrong. "Blood Bond her? That's the cruelest, most heartless, most awful..." he couldn't find words sufficient to express his revulsion at the idea.
"Her Sire is dead," Julian continued as if it were the most reasonable suggestion in the world. "Martin's Sire is dead. She belongs to no one. She should have belonged to you; you had my permission to Embrace her, Martin did not. If you wish to be Regnant over her, I will protect you in the Conclave."
"I love her, Julian," Cash protested. "I don't want her as a Thrall."
"But if she were your Thrall, she wouldn't be unhappy," Julian argued gently. "I trust you, Cash. You would treat her well. And she loves you already. A Blood Bond between you would only deepen that love and crowd out the unhappiness she feels."
"She's unhappy because she's Brujah," Cash insisted.
"There is nothing either one of us can do about that now," Julian replied. "I've considered making the Blood Bond myself. She's my great-great-granddaughter and I love her as if she were my own Childe. But she's too wild to be tamed by any Ventrue; I'd just be trading one misery for another. You wouldn't cage her, Cash. You'd be wild and free and together."
"But she wouldn't be free, Julian," Cash answered, agonized. "She'd never be free. Not as long as the Bond existed. I can't do that to her. I'm sorry."
"We all do what we can, Cash," Julian nodded in sympathy. "And then we pray it's enough."
**********
Necking with Lillie had a whole different meaning, Frank reflected. Not that she ever made a move to bite him. She did like kissing his throat, just below the curve of his jaw, though. The sensation sent shivers down his spine. Better to kiss her cool lips, feel her tongue darting playfully into his mouth.
She had his jacket off and his shirt unbuttoned. Somehow Lillie had managed to block him from undressing her. The furthest Frank had gotten was pushing her skirt up around her hips as she sat in his lap. He was getting about as far with Lillie as he was with his investigation into the Kindred: just enough to get frustrated.
Frank wanted to get up out of her office chair and push Lillie over the desk. Rip her clothes off and make passionate love to her. But every time he moved she pushed him back and, damn, she was strong. Maybe stronger than he was. That was almost as exciting as her soft mouth nibbling on his ear.
He tangled his hand into her luxurious hair and pulled Lillie back to his lips again. He ran his tongue along her teeth, searching for her fangs. Nothing. As if reading his mind she bit at his lower lip. That made him quiver. He felt like Jell-O, or putty in her hands. He wasn't sure he disliked the sensation.
"Lillie," he husked. She couldn't keep teasing him like this. She covered his mouth again, silencing him, pinning him back into the chair. One perfectly manicured hand scratched at the back of his neck. It was so exciting to have a woman in control of the whole seduction.
The phone rang. He thought she might ignore it, but after the fifth shrill peal of the bell she pulled away, cursing softly. "Lillie," she said into the receiver. Frank let his head fall back and attempted to catch his breath. "All right," she said. "No, you do it." A pause. "That's fine." A longer pause. "I'm busy. That's what I pay you for. Good-bye, Maurice, I'm hanging up now." She slammed down the phone. "Idiot."
She drew in a deep breath and sighed. "Now where were we?" Her eyes sparkled with delight as she examined Frank. He tried to raise his head, but she pushed him back with gentle fingers. "Delectable," she murmured, licking her lips.
"Go ahead," Frank offered. A frission of fear shook him, or maybe it was desire. He tried to relax, but felt extremely vulnerable with his throat exposed. He wondered if it would hurt.
"Oh, Frank," Lillie sighed. "That's so sweet."
Now he was really confused. "I thought that's what you wanted," he ventured.
"I do!" Lillie protested, looking deep in his eyes. "You don't know how much, darling. It's just that," she started to look embarrassed. "Usually people don't offer me their blood like that."
"Turn off?" Frank ventured. As usual, he found a really great woman, and then totally blew it.
"No!" Lillie exclaimed. She stroked his hair with one trembling hand. "It's so nice that you trust me. Even knowing what I am. You don't treat me like a monster, and how could that possibly turn me off? And to actually offer me your throat like that. Do you know how hard I have to work at someone to get close enough to Feed? Not that I think of you like that."
Frank shook his head. Lillie actually looked as if she were going to start to cry. He pulled her head down to his chest and kissed her hair.
"You make me feel so tender and protective," Lillie whispered against his chest. He made HER feel protective? "I don't want to hurt you," she continued. "I want to protect you from the Beast."
"I don't think you're a monster, Lillie," Frank soothed. "You can't help being what you are. And what you are is a beautiful, sexy, intelligent, powerful woman who happens to need to drink blood to survive." And that is fine with me as long as I'm sure that you aren't hurting anyone to get it, he added silently.
Lillie laughed against his chest. "Frank, I think that is the nicest thing any one has said to me in the last century."
"You deserve to have nice things said to you," Frank replied. "Lillie, if it's not too personal, how do you get close enough to drink someone's blood?"
"Oh, there are lots of ways," she smiled at him. "I could just do it and then make the Vessel forget all about it with a glance in their eyes."
"Vessel?" Frank raised his eyebrows.
"That's one of the things we call you," Lillie looked slightly abashed. "Vessel, mortal, Donor, Kine. Like we call ourselves Kindred. There are other words, but they aren't so nice."
"Well, at least I know the slang," He gave Lillie a squeeze. "You were telling me how you got the blood."
"Satisfied the Thirst," she corrected. "I don't like just taking it. I like hot blood. You see, when the person being Drained feels strong emotions, a Kindred can taste it in their blood. Lust is the easiest to evoke, even if the Vessel is sleeping." She ran one hand over his chest suggestively. Frank had first hand experience at how she could inspire lust, that was for certain.
"So you can drink from someone who is sleeping or make them forget if they are awake." That would certainly explain why there were no reports of vampire attacks in the police records.
"Yes, a Kindred who prefers to drink from sleeping Vessels is called a succubus," Lillie informed him. "For obvious reasons."
"What obvious reasons?" Frank asked.
"The Kiss is very pleasurable, Frank," she smiled provocatively. "When a Kindred drains a sleeping mortal they inevitably have erotic dreams."
"And there isn't any evidence?"
"Well, just the kind you would expect to find after a sexual dream," Lillie stroked one hand down his throat. "And a little, tiny healed-over cut where the blood was taken. Most mortals think it's a scratch."
Then she started to kiss him again, and he didn't want to ask any more questions.
**********
Marc pulled himself up to Karen's balcony and tested the latch on her sliding glass door. As expected, she had left it open. He let himself into the darkened apartment and closed the door behind him.
The moonlight streaming in through the curtains was sufficient for him to see everything in the little apartment she shared with her two room-mates. He always visited her when the moon was full so that he could appreciate their latest projects. Lynda's most recent painting was propped on her easel. She was working in oils this time, but her technique was still showing the same basic flaws. Marc was more interested in Karen's photographs.
He found her latest set of contact prints and perched on the sofa to peruse them. Even in the cramped format he could appreciate her style. Most of this set were pictures of her other room-mate, Jackie, pensively posed among the sunlit meadows of Angel Island. She was definitely improving. He understood that as an art student she was limited in her choice of models, but she had done a great deal with the setting and the mood. He wished he could get prints of some of the better photos.
He set the prints back where he had found them and made his way into Karen's bedroom. Thankfully she had the apartment's smallest bedroom to herself, so he didn't have to worry about waking her companions. The Tom Cruise poster was still pinned over her bed. Well, she couldn't be completely perfect, could she? Marc shifted carefully through her desk until he found the latest letter from her mother. It annoyed him that she used her computer for most of her correspondence. He didn't dare turn it on, it would certainly wake someone if he did.
But the letters from Mom came at least twice a month, and were filled with little details of Karen's family life. Photos too, sometimes, of various family members, poorly posed and mostly out of focus. Not that Marc cared about a bunch of Warms, but it gave him insight into Karen. Lovely Karen of the truly beautiful photographs.
Mom was harping about Karen's brother Charles again. She thought Karen should spend more time with him and less time partying. The only reason Mom had let Karen go to school at Berkeley was because Charles was working in Oakland. Blah, blah, blah, same stuff as last month. Poor Karen, to have so much talent surrounded by a life of such banality.
Finished with exploring the secrets of her life, Marc turned to the bed. Karen had fallen asleep reading, her glasses had slid off her head and onto her pillow. Marc retrieved them and placed them tenderly on her bedside table. He turned her head gently toward him, exposing the vein in her throat, then sat next to her on the bed so he could Feed.
The camera's flash startled him into immobility. He didn't turn to face it until it flashed a second time, and by then Karen had woken. "You're real!" Karen exclaimed, clutching at him. "I knew I didn't just dream you."
She had photographed him, Marc realized. Karen had set a trap for him. Panicked he stumbled back from her bed, his hand covering his mouth. She might know what he was. He mustn't let her see his fangs.
"Wait," Karen called. "Don't go! I need to talk to you."
As fast as he could, much faster than she could perceive, he fled her bedroom, darted out through the sliding door and over the railing to the soft grass below. He didn't even bother to close the glass behind him. As he raced across the open lawn he could hear her on the balcony, crying for him to come back.
It wasn't until he reached Telegraph Avenue that he remembered that he should have taken the camera she'd used with him when he left. Instead he'd left the damning photographs behind.
**********
Well, Frank reflected, he hadn't gotten lucky and he hadn't gotten bitten. Things sort of balanced out if you looked at them that way. Unfortunately that did nothing to soothe the ache in his loins. He finished buttoning his shirt, tucked his tie in his pocket and figured he should leave The Haven while leaving was still possible.
He certainly hadn't meant to spend four hours making out with The Haven's undead owner. Especially since it never advanced beyond the kind of groping he used to do in High School. Not that the evening had been a total waste of time. Frank was completely and utterly frustrated now, but he'd been enjoying himself while writhing around with Lillie. Lillie could do things with her hands and her mouth that amazed him. And she hadn't even gone below his waist.
Frank shook his head when he realized that he was thinking about the next time he was with Lillie. There wasn't going to be a next time, he told himself. He had gotten involved with one of Julian Luna's girlfriends before and it had turned out very badly. Very badly for him, and far worse for poor Alexandra. God only knew what Julian would do if he caught Frank with Lillie.
Not to mention that Lillie didn't seem to have Alex's restraint. Frank examined his neck in the mirror. There were no cuts or scratches. Lillie really hadn't put the bite on him; that was somehow surprising. Almost as surprising as him offering his throat to her. What had he been thinking?
He walked back downstairs trying to think cool thoughts. Icebergs, snow, cold showers. Lillie's cool hands, cold lips and chilly kisses. Well, that trick wasn't going to work. He figured he was okay to get past the mortals in the club, but he'd bet dollars to donuts that every Kindred in the place knew what he'd been doing. If they couldn't smell it on him, they could certainly hear his heart banging away as if he had just run a marathon. Which, in a manner of speaking, he had.
Lillie was closing down the bar; there really weren't that many patrons left. He tried to act casual, just wave at her and leave, but Lillie intercepted him on the stair. "I had a wonderful evening, Frank," she breathed, pressing against him. "We'll have to do it again, real soon."
"Yeah, sure," Frank answered. "I'll call you." Like hell he would. He wasn't that crazy.
"I'll walk you to your car," Lillie wrapped his arm around her and led him up the stairs. She was soft in all the right places, and conformed to his body as if she'd been carved to fit. Her auburn hair was fragrant and her skin made silk feel coarse by comparison. With difficulty Frank steered his thoughts to something else. He also tried to move his hand from her buttocks, but only managed to get it back to her waist.
"Are you still working nights?" Lillie asked.
"No, swing shift," Frank answered. "I start at four and get off at midnight."
"When do you sleep!" Lillie exclaimed.
"Day time," he told her. "When I'm safe from little Kindred visitors."
"Don't be so sure," Lillie teased. "No time is really safe. Although if any Kindred dared to harm you," she grabbed his lapels and looked up at him though her long lashes. "I'd make them pay."
"Lillie," Frank blushed.
"I'm serious Frank," Lillie began. Frank never did learn what Lillie was serious about because a young man slammed through the doors of the club and plowed into Lillie's back.
"Excuse me," the young man snapped, then his face drained of the little color it had. "Lillie! I'm sorry! I wasn't looking! I mean," he stammered, backing away down the stairs and bowing. "I beg your forgiveness," he whimpered before he turned and fled.
"Was he?" Frank wondered, turning back to Lillie.
"Kindred? Oh, yes," she confirmed. "That was Marc." She steered him toward the door and stepped out into the cool night air.
"What was his problem?" Frank asked, following her. His arm felt a little empty without her on it.
"Oh," Lillie blushed. "He's probably in love." She gazed at him sideways through her lashes again. "It's the Toreador Curse, the way we fall in love with mortals."
She turned towards him suddenly and planted an impulsive kiss on his lips. "Good night, Frank," she whispered. Then she was gone.
**********
Julian smiled approvingly at Lorraina. She was in her uniform, and managed to look halfway respectable. Making her his chauffeur was a temporary arrangement, but if she did well, he could easily make it a more permanent solution. It might even be worth the effort to get Cash to wear a real shirt, instead of the same torn tee-shirt every night.
"We'll be going to The Haven this evening," Julian informed the Gangrel woman. He held his arm out and Sasha took it. Julian was proud of the way his 'niece' looked this evening, she'd traded her leather jeans for a mini-skirt and wore pumps instead of boots. The casual observer might not be able to tell she was Brujah.
"Another one of the neighbor's dogs died last night, Sasha." Lorraina smiled venomously. Sasha smile melted and she went noticeably paler. She stared at Lorraina with large frightened eyes.
"That's the fourth pet so far this month," Lorraina continued. "Fifth, if you count Wilkenson's poodle 'disappearing'."
"Sasha?" Julian asked gently. He wondered what Lorraina was implying. "What have you been doing?"
Sasha swiveled toward him in a near panic. "Nothing!" She insisted. "Leave me alone!"
"You've been drinking from animals?" Cash pushed himself away from the limousine. "What for?"
"Sasha," Julian chided. "You mustn't do that. Animal blood is not good for you."
"I hate you," Sasha swore passionately at Lorraina. The Gangrel woman just smiled at her, showing lots of teeth.
Julian stroked her on the arm but Sasha shrugged him off. "Leave me alone," she repeated. She looked about ready to cry. "Just leave me alone."
"Sasha," Cash approached his lover cautiously. "What's the matter?" He took a step towards her, but she backed away from him. Julian could see the white all the way around her eyes. She was truly frightened. Why? He reached out and put one hand on her shoulder but Sasha gave a startled squeak and pulled away from him.
"What do you care?" She screeched. "What do you care what I Feed on? What do you care what I do?" She knocked Julian's arm away from her and fled back into the house with a strangled wail.
Cash darted after her, Julian following at a more sedate pace. She hadn't gone far. She was huddled on the garden next to the fountain, sobbing as if her heart would break. Cash sat on the stones next to her but Sasha moved away from his comforting hand.
"I used to like animals," she whimpered. Despite her wracking sobs her cheeks were dry. Julian wondered when she had last fed. "I always had pets when I was growing up. All those poor things, they were so scared; I didn't mean to kill them."
"Of course you didn't," Cash answered. "But dogs are small, Sasha, and animal blood is thin. You have to drink more of it just to survive."
"It's not just the dogs," Sasha told him. "I kill everything I touch. I've tried bigger animals, Cash. I've tried a horse, but I killed it too."
Julian stepped out onto the plaza. He crossed to sit on the fountain's rim on the other side of Sasha from his bodyguard. "Sasha, did any of the Brujah ever show you how to Feed?" he asked softly.
Cash was obviously shocked at what the question implied. If Sasha hadn't been shown what to do when Martin first made her, if she had nothing but instinct to go on....
Sasha shook her head. No, the Brujah filth had made her and then abandoned her with no teaching. Julian reached down and patted her head. "It's all right," he soothed. "It's not your fault."
"Yes, it is," Sasha insisted, her body shaking with unwept tears. "I hate killing things. I hate being Kindred. I wish Martin had killed me instead of making me into a monster."
Julian looked significantly at Cash. The Gangrel refused to meet his eyes. With a soft sigh, Julian unknotted his tie and loosened the collar of his shirt. "I can't let you survive on animal blood," he told Sasha, lifting her into his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and huddled against his chest.
"Oh, Uncle Julian," she moaned. "What am I going to do?"
Julian moved her head to his neck and made the first cut with his thumbnail. "Here. It will make you feel better."
Sasha tried to push away, but he held her firmly. She hesitated another moment, but the smell of his blood overwhelmed her will. He felt her delicate fangs sink into his flesh on either side of the wound. Julian stroked her hair gently as she drank his blood. Cash watched him with betrayed eyes and Julian stared the young Gangrel down. When he didn't have the luxury of being able to do the right thing, Julian had always been content to chose the lesser of two evils.
Sasha fed greedily, without finesse, sinking her fangs in repeatedly even after she had enlarged the wound. Julian could feel his Vitae, his life, pouring into her; feel her hunger as if it was his own. He felt her anguish, too, and her remorse. Julian concentrated on the love he felt for her, the pleasure he took in giving her his blood, knowing that she could feel his emotions just as clearly. He was distantly aware that Cash was stroking her thigh, trying to comfort her.
Beyond all other pleasures was the thrill of being Drained. Even the ecstasy of taking blood was eclipsed by the sensation of giving it. And with the euphoria came the Communion, the mingling of his soul with hers, an intimacy no mortal would ever know. It was the first step in the Blood Bond that would tie her to him.
How Cash could deny himself this pleasure was beyond Julian. Sasha's soul was like fragile glass, beautiful, delicate, with unexpectedly sharp edges capable of cutting those close to her to ribbons. Julian could feel her untapped strength, her almost limitless potential. And through her he could perceive his own soul, like deceptively curved and polished steel. He kept her attention away from the depths of himself that he wanted to keep hidden, and used his spirit to mirror hers. Leading Sasha's mind to concentrate on her own loveliness, her spiritual strengths.
Julian's extremities sang with pain as the small blood vessels began to collapse. He held Sasha tighter, forcing her to continue drinking. Exultation and agony were one and the same.
Sasha jerked back from him suddenly, stumbling to her feet. One hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide. "I'm hurting you," she exclaimed.
"You can't hurt me, Sasha," Julian caught her hand in his. "Even if you drained me dry, you couldn't kill me." He smiled and drew her close again. "I'll have to Hunt anyway, before we go to The Haven. I just want you to be satiated for a few days. The Thirst can be torture for the young, I know."
Sasha smiled tremulously back at him. "Thank you, Uncle Julian."
"Julian," Cash warned, glowering. This time the young Gangrel endured Julian's angry stare longer before looking away. Julian would have to speak to him about his timing, the last thing he needed was a challenge for dominance when his Thirst was clawing away at his sanity.
"Why don't you take Sasha on to The Haven," Julian suggested, handing Sasha back to her lover. "I'll Hunt and join you there later."
He ignored their replies and glanced automatically at the moon. It was just past full. If he fed Sasha twice more before it became full again he would hold her as his Thrall. More than his lover, and yet less than his slave. He wouldn't force the Blood Bond on her if he could find another alternative.
**********
"Opal," Marc whispered. "I need your help." He motioned the oriental Kindred backstage with him. The Haven was a warren back there and the Toreador had a thousand places to hide.
"Marc," Opal followed him to an alcove beneath the stairs. "What is wrong with you?"
"I'm in trouble, Opal," Marc answered. "I think I've broken the Masquerade and I don't know what to do."
"Broken the Masquerade!" Opal repeated incredulously. "How? What happened?" She glanced around quickly to make sure they weren't being overheard, then lowered her voice. "That's very serious. You'd better tell me everything."
"There is this girl," Marc began miserably. "She's a film student at Berkeley. I've been visiting her," he wrung his hands. "I've been feeding off of her. She's my favorite Vessel, Opal. She has so much talent!"
"Get to the point," Opal hissed.
"She took my picture," Marc whispered. "She set a trap for me, so that when I sat on her bed her camera went off. I panicked and left the camera behind."
"If the Prince finds out," Opal left the thought unfinished. There was no telling what Julian would do if he found out. It wouldn't be pleasant, what ever it was.
"He can't find out!" Marc cried. "Opal, you have to help me fix it. At the very least he'll banish me." Marc shuddered.
"You'll be lucky if that's all he does," Opal agreed.
"I know," Marc moaned. "What can I do?"
"You said the camera went off when you sat on her bed, right?" Opal said thoughtfully. "You'd hadn't actually started to Kiss her?"
"That's right," Marc confirmed. "It went off as I sat down."
"Then the photo probably doesn't break the Masquerade," Opal reflected. "Unless you were acting like Bela Lugosi and flashing your fangs around."
Marc giggled at the picture it made. "Definitely not."
"Well," Opal replied certainly. "You were just some weird guy who broke into her room. Whatever you do DON'T go back for the picture. If she catches you there again, you'll be in deep trouble. In fact, you have to give her up."
"Opal," Marc complained. "You should see her photographs! They are so beautiful. She has the soul of a poet..."
"If you go back, you are going to get caught," Opal grabbed his arm with one hand and squeezed, hard. "And then Julian will punish you. Think about it. Then decide if seeing her again is worth the cost."
Marc shuddered at the thought of being at Julian's mercy. "Okay," he said, defeated. "I'll give her up."
Opal nodded at his wisdom. "Good. She's a college student. She won't have any idea of how to find you. Let's just hope she goes to the campus police instead of the real cops."
Marc's eyes widened in panic at the thought. Julian had his Ventrue in every police department, they would bring any unusual investigations to him. He prayed that Karen wouldn't take it any further than the security on campus. If she did... He couldn't bear to contemplate what the Prince would do to him.
**********
Frank found Lillie waiting for him when he got home. She was leaning seductively against the wall outside his apartment door, but he was certain that she could have gotten inside if she'd wanted to. He just stood on the stairs and gaped at her.
"Hello, Frank," she cooed. "Take me out to dinner?"
"Sure," Frank answered. And do I get to be the main course, he wondered.
Lillie bounded away from the wall, transformed in a second from a mature seductress to a girl on a date. "Where are we going?" She asked, her eyes glowing. "Take me somewhere I haven't been before."
"There is a diner around the corner," Frank gestured for her to proceed him down the stairs. "You really want to get something to *eat*?"
"I'd love to watch you eat, Frank," Lillie smiled up at him. "I've always felt that you can learn a lot about a person from the way he eats."
"Okay, whatever," Frank shook his head. They walked in companionable silence down the street and across the parking lot to The Nighthawk Cafe. Frank couldn't figure out why Lillie really was there. Surely she hadn't meant anything when she said that Toreador fell in love with mortals.
"So, why were you at The Haven, Frank?" Lillie asked as they entered the little diner. "Really."
"Just wanted to learn a little bit about Kindred," Frank confessed.
"Not to see me?"
"Aw, jeez, Lillie," Frank rolled his eyes. How was it possible that a woman could set a guy up so easily? Lillie laughed softly to herself, taking the sting out of her question.
"You can ask me anything you want to know about us," Lillie informed him when the waitress had seated them and handed them their menus. "I like talking to you. It's so nice to have someone I can confide in who knows what's going on, but doesn't take part in all the petty little power struggles."
"Power struggles?" Frank asked. Did she really mean it? It was almost too good to be true. If she would really tell him the things he needed to know....
"Oh, the Gangrel against the Brujah, Cameron against Julian," Lillie sighed. "No one really trusts anyone else. Everyone always thinks everyone is out to manipulate them or take away their power or prestige. It gets very lonely."
"Well, I know the Brujah are the Bad Guys," Frank started.
"That's what Julian wants you to think," Lillie corrected. "Archon hated the Brujah, and I think he passed that on to Julian. Really, the Brujah are no better or worse than any of the other Clans."
"But they run the crime in this city," Frank protested.
"And who do you think arranged that?" Lillie leaned forward over the table. "Archon gave control of the unions and the docks to the Brujah when he was Prince of the City, and told them to keep the Tongs and gangs in line. Just like during Prohibition he was the one who set up the speakeasies and gave them to me to run. And the profits flowed into his coffers. That's the way things are done."
"Who is Archon?" Frank asked.
"Oh, he was Julian's Sire," Lillie replied. "He was the Prince before Julian. But the Brujah destroyed him because he was trying to wipe them out. He hated them irrationally, completely irrationally."
"Don't get me wrong, Frank," she continued. "Eddie was a power-hungry jerk. He only wanted to be Prince because his Sire, Cyrus, told him that's what he wanted. But not all Brujah are like that, believe me."
The waitress came, interrupting them, and Frank gave his order. Lillie asked for a glass of water with a slice of lime. She's eaten earlier, she explained.
"Do Kindred eat?" Frank wondered. He'd seen Alexandra eat, when they went on dates, but he thought that Kindred lived off of blood.
"We can eat food," Lillie smiled. "But we don't digest it."
He thought about that for a second. "Not a pretty picture," he commented.
"No," Lillie laughed shaking her head. "It's not."
"Do you like being Kindred, Lillie?" Frank wondered.
"It's much better than the alternative," Lillie replied. "I would have died nearly seventy years ago if I hadn't been Embraced. But that's not what you're asking, is it?"
Frank shook his head. He wasn't sure what he was asking. He just wanted to know everything.
"My senses are much finer than a mortal's," Lillie confided. "I can read a page of newsprint across a room. My vision will only grow better with age. The same with my sense of hearing and my sense of smell. Time makes us stronger. I'll never grow old or become ill. Any injury will heal in minutes, or at most, hours. I feel pain much less and pleasure more keenly. How couldn't I like being what I am?"
She shook her head. "The problem is seeing everything around you change. Everyone else grow old and die. Everyone except other Kindred, so you stick close to them, until your circle of friends starts to feel like a noose. There's boredom and infighting and jockeying for power," she smiled ruefully. "But I guess every silver lining has it's cloud."
Lillie glanced almost shyly at Frank. "I've spent too much time with my own kind in the last few decades. I've forgotten just how good it is to be around living people. Especially living men."
**********
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