Authors note : Takes place AFTER "Rages with Wolves" which is now on hold.

I own White Wolf, Vampire, and the World Of Darkness. I am a rich monarch, ruling over the planet Xygon and living in a cave on Mars (tax thing). If you believe this, you are clearly Malkavian.

VOTE BRUJAH!

Thomas Goodkinde had, in the course of his long political career, attended many high-level meetings. He had been a Governor in what he now thought of as his 'old life'. He had met with Senators, corporate tycoons, religious leaders, presidents and once with a king. HE had attended these meetings, even led some of them, without ever losing his cool. He had been, in the words of one Congressman, "a true leader, a credit to the GOP, and a man with a bright future ahead of him". All this was still true, yet the prospect of the coming meeting chilled him to the bone. After all how often did one get to meet the secret rulers of the United States?

Thomas was a Neonate of clan Brujah. That is to say, he was a newly Embraced member of the most fractious, most passionate, the most political and the most numerous of all the vampire clans. He had been the well-respected governor of a populous state, known for his Classical Liberalist ideologies and his personal charisma. Then an apparently young woman had seduced him, then Embraced him. She had wanted him to see what she called the 'real world'. She had then abandoned him to what some called the World of Darkness. Now -five years later, he was going to turn that setback into a huge triumph. With the help of his guests, of course.

He had spent a long time getting the boardroom just right. A large, round table was set up, courtesy of the decorator. He had specified a round table for the same reason King Arthur is said to have done; to avoid turning seating arrangements into a matter of status. The meeting would be tense enough, and the guests soon arriving to his mansion were dangerous enough. No need to give them any reason to cause problems.

The first of his guests to arrive was a young looking woman, with pale skin and dirty brown hair. She wore white robes, and her eyes flashed with the light of a true zealot. This was Carmen, the Malkavian Prince of Reno Nevada. She had clawed her way to the top in a bitter struggle against the Followers of Set, guided by what she believed to be the voice of Caine. Since 'Caine' had brought her to power, few were prepared to argue the point. Behind her were two other Malks, part of Carmen's retinue. Both were extremely muscular and carried belt-fed 'Rolling Thunder' combat shotguns. Also accompanying her was a small, waif-like woman with a third eye. She carried no weapons, and exuded an aura of peace and tranquility.

A SALUBRI! Thomas was amazed, yet restrained himself from asking about it just yet. Best to deal with the business at hand first. Instead he simply welcomed them briefly and bade them sit.

Following at a leisurely pace was Gretchen Dartmor, Toreador Prince of Atlanta. She was among the most gorgeous women Thomas had ever seen, with pale skin (natural enough for a vampire), black hair, and a figure that put most actresses to shame. Thomas suspected her intelligence and ruthlessness. had surprised her sire, as he (or she) had Embraced her purely for her looks. Though the leader of one of the wealthiest cities in the world, and the ACTUAL head of the largest corporations in the world (Coca-Cola and AOL-Time Warner) Gretchen was locked in a struggle with the Sabbat Cardinal Zumarraga, and had been for a decade. Although Carmen had recently joined forces with her, the balance between Camarilla and Sabbat was precarious. Consequently her retinue was large, composed of four ghouls armed with submachine guns, two Cainites (one Gangrel and one Toreador), and her advisor Kai Li, of the Kuei-Jin.

Following her was the Prince of Louisiana (the only Prince to rule over more than just a city) and head of the North American Tremere, Arthur Rennick. A small man, apparently in his sixties, Rennick was a master Thaumaturgist, and commanded the loyalties of almost every Tremere on the continent. Two Tremere, one armed with a large staff (presumably magical) and the other with a far-less exotic AK-47 guarded him. Rennick had few enemies, and was reputed to be among the most powerful warlocks in his clan. Consequently, he needed little in the way of protection. Oddly, he seemed to be unsurprised by the Salubris presence, and though he was far from happy to see her, he did not create any problems.

Next to arrive was Carlos Santaga (pronounced San-TAY- GAH), the Nosferatu Prince of Washington DC. Since the capital was a city that ran on secrets and hidden agendas, the Nosferatu had haitually ruled there. With their talent for information gathering and secrecy, the Sewer Rats were able to keep all Kindred fairly well-appraised of the governments intentions. Carlos himself was a hideous thing, a Hispanic man with an apelike body covered in boils and running sores. He was flanked by no fewer than four Nosferatu, all carrying tommyguns. Antique, but deadly, they could blanket the room in lead in a matter of seconds. The odd thing was, all five Nosferatu were wearing old-style pinstripe suits, as were worn by the Mafia enforcers of the nineteen thirties. They even wore fedoras, cocked at the exact same angle.

The fifth guest was arguably the most important. Jerome Vanderbolt was the Ventrue ruler of New York City. He was a very powerful Cainite, and a proven strategist, having seized control of the city from the Sabbat during the start of the Giuliani years. A single Cainite, a swarthy man of middle-eastern descent, accompanied him. But then Vanderbolt needed no bodyguards, here. The Camarilla had officially made him untouchable as a reward for the retaking of New York. No Cainite could lift a hand against him, nor remove him from power, without damn good cause. Moreover, Vanderbolt was a former Archon, and a powerful warrior in his own right. The stereotypical Northern European, Vanderbolt was tall and blonde, with a lean frame that was perfectly accented by his expensive clothes. Despite this privileged appearance, Vanderbolt an aura of power that had little to do with his known control of the New York mobs.

The last guest was the newest Prince in North America, the Gangrel leader of Chicago Kurt Masters. He was rugged looking, with dark hair and a five o' clock shadow. His bodyguards were Lupines, two in human form carrying Uzis, the third in Crinos. How this alliance had come to be no one outside Chicago knew.

Masters was known for his environmental and corporate crusades. The environmental one was fairly straightforward. Using his control of the city, Masters had instituted a series of nearly draconian anti-pollution laws. Moreover, the city's Anarchs, who acted as the Princes private army, again something no one outside the insular city truly understood, targeted persistent offenders.

His corporate crusade was more overt. Through unknown means, Masters had convinced every Kindred in the city to target a corporation called Pentex. Brujah, Malkavians, Tremere and Gangrel launched covert assaults on Pentex facilities. Ventrue used their money and corporations against it, while Toreadors used the media to blacken Pentex's image, using information from the Nosferatu. Masters had hinted that, if things went well in Chicago, he would tell the other Kindred what was going on. However, because of Goodkinde's sterling environmental record while governor of Ohio, he had been allowed to learn the truth. He'd found it...disturbing.

His guests took their time getting settled. Each prince was theoretically supreme is his or her territory, and so each had problems and experiences that could only be properly understood by another Prince. Moreover, this was a rare situation for the Princes. For once, they were in the presence of Kindred who had no agenda involving them or their city. They were outside the complex web of Camarilla politics and plotting, and intended to take advantage of it to let their guards down, slightly. The talk became boisterous, filled with laughter and commiseration.

Vanderbolt, Carmen and Dartmor were engaged in discussion about the best ways to combat the Sabbat. Santaga and Masters were talking about the new Environmental bill being discussed by Congress. Rennick and his retinue were listening.

Thomas let it go on for a while. He wanted his guests to be in as agreeable a mood as possible for his announcement. Things had to be just right or it would never work as he wanted. The very fact that he had called this meeting was more or less unheard of. No neonate could simply request an audience with the Prince of his own city, much less the most powerful Princes in North America. But then, Thomas Goodkinde was not an ordinary neonate.

Due to his grounding in politics before the Embrace, Thomas acted as the Camarillas advisor on American law and politics. He told Princes how best to influence elections to ensure that their candidates remained in power, legally. He was the one who had gone to Europe to brief the ancient lords of the Camarilla who held power there on the realities of what they still referred to as 'the colonies'. It was he who had sparked the massive crackdown on tax evasion and fraud as a threat to the Masquerade. Thus, if he asked the Princes to come, it was a fair bet they would come and listen attentively. Whether they would agree was another matter.

After twenty minutes, he spoke. He had long ago learned to combine Presence with his own natural speaking ability. "My lords please. I appreciate your desire to talk amongst yourselves, but I called you here for a purpose". Gradually, the room quieted. All the Princes were curious what Goodkinde had to say that was so important.

"My lords, the Camarilla has held firm control of the vampire world since its inception so many centuries ago. However, in recent nights that control has slipped dramatically. Anarchs and Sabbat outnumber Camarilla in many cities. We have lost most of the West Coast, and our hold on the East is shaky. Everything south of the Mexican border and north of Vermont is Sabbat. Our enemies have changed their methods to suit the modern world. Anarchs have adopted the image of the lone, angst-ridden rebel, making them popular among the newly Embraced. The Sabbat have begun to act in more subtle ways, infiltrating where once they simply invaded. The results of these changes have hurt us badly. Newly embraced childer see the Anarchs as 'cool', while stealthy Sabbat agents erode our power.

New supernaturals threaten us as well. We have always faced the Wraiths, the Mages and the Lupines, but now new factions are entering the picture. The Kine rise against us, calling themselves Hunters, and fight us. Many of us have fallen to beings we previously regarded as cattle. The Fae have inexplicably returned, and cause chaos wherever they go, albeit mainly by accident.

All along, we have remained static. Our procedures for countering these threats have not changed in centuries. Anarchs are ignored or exterminated, even though both adds to their appeal among the young. The Sabbat is only fought when it OPENLY challenges us, and is officially not recognized as different from the Anarchs. We do not even ATTEMPT to create a policy to deal with the newcomers. This cannot continue.

To maintain the Masquerade, and thereby ensure our survival, the Camarilla must adapt. We can best combat our foes by enlisting mortal aid. Simply pulling strings behind the scenes is no longer enough, we must begin to act directly." Thomas raised his hands gesturing to the assembled rulers to hold their objections "I do not mean we must break the masquerade. You see, a young vampire can reenter society , and with the right credentials, knowledge and backing, can assume power easily. "

Thomas now dropped the formal speech, adopting instead the 'human touch' he'd used to succeed in mortal politics. Suddenly, he spoke to the assembled Princes as though he was each ones closest friend, with a warm yet conspiratorial smile. "All of which is a long-winded way of getting to my proposal. You see, my

lords, I intend to run for President."

Uproar, every Prince trying to speak at once.

"One at a time, my lords! I may be faster than before, since my Embrace, but I'm still only one man!" Thomas shouted, laughing to show he was joking. A little jest in times of stress made the audience more receptive to your plans, as he'd learned many years before. Now that his formal speech was done with, Goodkinde reverted to his normal way of speaking, a relaxed tone with a slight southern twang.

Vanderbolt, by unspoken agreement, began "Kindred have tried to rule the mortals openly before, and the result was the Inquisition and the Anarch Revolt. Our species barely survived, and the Camarilla was founded on the idea that we could not do such things again, that we must hold power in secret if at all"

"Absolutely right my lord. But I don't intend to rule openly as a vampire. I was never actually declared dead, I merely resigned for 'reasons of ill health'. So I can be elected to the post of President with no more trouble than any one else"

The Ventrue seemed unimpressed "Then how, pray tell, do you intend to explain the fact that you cannot go outside in the daytime? Or that you never eat or drink? I imagine such odd behavior by the President will not go unnoticed, especially since you were known for your robust health before your disappearance in the middle of a reelection campaign."

" Ahh, but in a few months it will be revealed that I didn't just disappear. Instead, I was diagnosed with a rare skin condition, which makes my skin dangerously sensitive to sunlight. It's rare, but just plausible enough to work especially with your help. As for food and drink, well, we CAN swallow food, we just don't get anything out of it. Blood can be taken from a few well placed blood dolls, eliminating THAT problem."

"That seems to deal with your issues" Rennick said, his voice as dry as a desert "but not ours. Why should we help you?"

"As president, I can crack down on violent criminal gangs. Since that's all the mortals reckon Anarchs are, that'll help put them under control. This will also help against the We all know that the NSC and the FBI are starting to cause troubles, and they can only be dealt with by someone high up in government. I can move government funding away from anything that might lead them to us."

The Princes nodded at this. The IRS was beginning to get suspicious about the numbers of people who, despite not paying taxes and having no official records, nevertheless lived like royalty. They suspected a vast money-laundering operation, but their investigation could easily threaten the Masquerade. They might, for instance, wonder why some of their suspects never seemed to die.

Meanwhile the FBI was compiling a database of all the victims of 'mysterious and spontaneous exsanguination', in other words vampirism. They, too, favored a rational explanation; namely some sort of nation-wide vampire-cult. Such things had occurred before on a local scale, when teenaged Goths decided to go the next step, to the endless amusement of local Kindred. They viewed them same way a wolf might view a sheep trying to hunt. Surreal and sort of funny. However, all it would take is one lucky break in an Anarch or Sabbat city for the Federal Bureau of Investigation to start a massive vampire hunt.

Now Gretchen Dartmor spoke "All right, Mr. Goodkinde. You have convinced us that a Kindred in the White House would be to our advantage. Well done. Now, why should we entrust this enterprise to you? I mean you ARE only a neonate. More you are Brujah and so inherently lacking in control."

Goodkinde kept smiling, but inside he made a note of Dartmor's slights. Someday, woman, someday…

"Well, as to my being a neonate, that will help me retake my place in society. As for being Brujah…well… I'm sorry to say you are wrong about my clan, ma'am. We are NOT all rebels and punks.

While its true we ARE all driven by a cause, its not always anarchy or communism. Take me for example. I believe that society would run much better if the government kept to its own business. Enforcing the law, defending the borders, protecting the environment, and helping the very poor. Things like corporate dealings, civil law, drugs, marriage, morals and the like should be left to the individual. People, in short, should be allowed to do whatever they want so long as it doesn't bother anyone else.

As for our tendency to Frenzy, well that's nothing a bit of self-discipline won't cure. In fact the passion of my clan might even be an asset, helping me appear more human, since most Kindred seem somewhat cold by mortal standards."

Finally Carmen spoke "All very good points. Plus, as you can help other Kindred attain similar positions later. Appoint judges and such. But, now Caine wishes to ask a question. Why us? Why don't you talk to the European leaders of the Camarilla, the Inner Circle? They actually lead the sect, so should they not be the first to be consulted?"

Goodkinde had an answer ready for that too. He shook his head sadly. "The trouble with that idea is that the Camarilla in Europe doesn't really understand the situation here in North America. Their situation is so different from our own that they CAN'T understand us. For example, in Europe most Kindred never involve themselves in violence. This is because the Sabbat is virtually nonexistent in Europe and Anarchs are put down harshly. As a result , even the most sophisticated of us is viewed as a thug or rowdy kid, and the 'proper place' for a Neonates studies should be culture, finance and so forth.

This leads us to another example of European difference: The Sabbat. Officially, the Camarilla acknowledges no other sect. This is because the leaders of Europe do not truly understand the modern Sabbat. They know only the wild, disorganized rabble that existed in the Middle Ages. They know nothing of how dangerous Sabbat packs are in battle, or how the Sabbat can hide itself at need. So, when we talk of the need to change, they just think we're radicals or rebels.

One final point, my lords. Few North American Kindred are less than Seventh Generation. That means our leaders are relatively modern beings, and young enough to adapt to changing times. The European leaders are ALL Elders. The average Generation for Princes is 5th, and they are STUBBORN old… Cainites."

Santaga and Vanderbolt both nodded at this. They had been to the Old World and knew how ignorant, arrogant and stubborn the Camarilla there was. Worse, many of the leaders were incompetents, who would

Barely survive as Neonates in America. They rose because there was nowhere near as much competition in Europe; the Camarilla ruled the cities and always had. Thus, promotions were usually based on seniority. Because of their relative youth, Santaga and Vanderbolt had both been treated casually, and largely ignored.

"But" Goodkinde continued, getting to the main point of this little gathering "perhaps, Prince Carmen was asking why I'm talking to YOU, rather than other Princes. The truth is, each of you has something I need to succeed in this. Prince Carmen, you have excellent relations with the independent clans; the Giovanni, the Ravnos and the Assamites. Since we can be sure the Sabbat will be against me, I'll need their help. Since these clans can go just about anywhere, they can provide intelligence on Sabbat cities."

"I knew you would" Carmen said with a strange smugness 'Caine told me days ago. I have a meeting with Angela Giovanni, the Giovanni leader of North America in a few days. After that, I meet with James Urin of the Assamites, then with Gregor the Ravnos elder. Then, in two weeks I meet with a representative of the Setites. You'll need them to, though I hate doing it."

Goodkinde was pleasantly surprised. He had not counted on the Malkavians insanity working in his favor.

"Prince Masters, you have a better relationship with the Lupines than any other Kindred in recorded history, and they might listen to you. I need them to come over to my side, or at least stay neutral. Of all the other supernaturals in the country, they're the only other group who take an active role in human affairs, and if they decide to move against me it could seriously cut my chances, to say nothing of my lifespan.

The Gangrel interrupted "You realize, of course, that all I can hope to do is set up meetings? Once you start talking it'll be up to you to convince them."

"Believe me, I think I can. What you're doing in Chicago, environmentally, is good. I want to take that national."

Masters eyes looked about ready to burst out of his sockets. Though the city Garou had long tried to fight Pentex through the law, they had had little success. For one thing, Garou were very bad in court. The stress, the opposition's taunting and the pressure were essentially a recipe for a Frenzy, and even if that was avoided, they couldn't remain calm in the witness box. More than that, though, the Wyrm had agents in very high places. Judges, CEOs, generals, and many others bowed to the Worm, and would protect Pentex with all they had. But, if the PRESIDENT was on their side… suddenly the War For Gaia might get a lot more positive. The Gangrel and his retinue were stunned beyond words, and merely nodded.

"Lord Santaga, I don't think we need to go into why help from the Prince of Washington DC would be an asset, do we? Nor the leader of the North American Tremere, Prince Rennick?"

Both Kindred nodded, though Rennick said that he would need approval from the clan Elders.

"Prince Vanderbolt, you I need most of all. First, you rule one of the largest, wealthiest and most influential cities in the Western world. Second, your reputation could swing this for me. If you come in on my side, other Princes could decide to follow your example. Third, you are the most respected general the Camarilla has in the New World. Finally, you have the respect of the Inner Circle, and can help me face any problems they might cause, directly or indirectly."

Vanderbolt nodded impatiently "Your point has been made, Goodkinde. I agree your idea would be good for our sect. No need to kiss my ass; I support you."

Goodkinde had expected Vanderbolts support; if he saw something as good for the Camarilla and not too dangerous for him, he would support it. Which was as close to altruism as most Kindred ever got.

Finally, he turned to Gretchen Dartmor. "Prince Dartmor, you control almost as much money as Prince Vanderbolt, and so in part I guess you know why I need your support. Any campaign needs a well-funded war chest. But more than that, I need you to help with the media."

Dartmor feigned ignorance, badly. "Why, what ever do you mean, Thomas?"

"Let's not kid around, ok?" Goodkinde hated the way she tried to establish herself on as his superior by condescending use of his first name. He felt the Beast rise, and fought it with every ounce of his will. This was NOT the time to prove he was Brujah. "You control the largest media corporation in the world. You can use it to do damage control, and to smear my opponents. But most of all, I need you to hit preemptively. It seems pretty obvious that some Hunter, Inquisitor, or Mage will catch on to what I am and try to use it to destroy the Masquerade and expose us all. I need you to create an all-out media blitz, subtly turning the vampire from a figure of menace to one of hilarity. I want people to think of vampires as jokes, so if someone DOES come forward, the idea will be laughed at regardless of the evidence. "

Despite his argument, Dartmor looked like she was going to balk. Then Vanderbolt spoke up "Do it Gretchen. That's an order"

Dartmor spun and glared at the New York Ventrue "You forget yourself, Jerome. Despite your hype, I am Prince in Atlanta, not you. Within her domain a Prince is supreme, and cannot be commanded by any. Or have you forgotten the Traditions, ARCHON?" The last word was laced with so much inexplicable contempt that the assembled Kindred prepared themselves for Vanderbolt to tear Dartmor's head off. Her retinue primed their weapons, knowing it was probably futile. According to rumor, Vanderbolt really was that good.

Everyone was surprised, therefore, when Vanderbolt remained totally calm. "Yes, Gretchen, I was an Archon. And I still have the Justicar's ear. We have here a chance to guarantee the Masquerade. Your interference COULD be interpreted as a violation of the Fifth and most vital Tradition. Were I to mention this to the Justicar, you would soon be quite dead. Again. "

Dartmor paled. The one Kindred who could ignore the complex rules of Status and bring Princes to task was a Justicar. Vanderbolt's threat was entirely plausible. She nodded and, in a voice little louder than a whisper said "fine. I will help. This time"

Goodkinde smiled. The meeting had gone flawlessly. He stood up "Thank you very much my lords I promise you will not regret it."

Rennick smiled coldly and said simply "We had better not" and the meeting broke up.

End of Chapter one.

NEXT: Private Plans