A/N - Ahh! I'm glad so many of you liked the last chapter! I was so excited to release it, I was hoping y'all would enjoy it. :) This one is a little more boring (and has tons of POV changes and time breaks, sorry), but integral to the plot, I assure you. We've been weaving in and out of the official plot, and we're nearing the end bits of the game, so be prepared for some exciting shit. Pretty much just scary places, action-shots, and plot twists for the rest of Part 1, so yeah. Strap in!

Lots of new faces in the reviews section, as well, I see... Mmm, juicy! haha

zXAmeliaXz - haha Yeah I was trying to play with the audience a bit and make think he was Malkavian; glad it worked! haha Yeah I tried to avoid actually saying his clan out loud as well, since it's mostly from his point of view and he doesn't know much more about the clans than a casual V:tM-B player would. But it's obvious enough to an expanded universe lover, I think. Glad to know you're liking the story so far!

midblooder - Thanks. :) A lot of other stories that I've read generally portray LaCroix as a bit more violent than I always thought he was. I mean, we never see him actually fight with anyone, just kinda boss about and throw tantrums. So I thought I'd try and make him a bit more tame - less 'evil bastard' and more 'pompous CEO', y'know? But don't worry; we'll see him throw a few punches later in the fic. ;) (By the way, I could totally see Gangrel on Dean. Though, I don't want to give it away too easily, but I'll go ahead and tell ya that he isn't a Camarilla clan.)

Georgia Jackdaw - Exactly! I always liked him better than pretty much... everyone. haha He was always so straightforward and was like, 'you do this, I pay you, you don't die'. It was refreshing, haha! I've tried pretty hard to keep him polite as he would be, but also not so lenient that he's too nice. I'm glad you think I'm doing well. I hope I can keep it up~! *fingers crossed*

Lyumia - Oh my goodness! Sorry about your printer! haha Hope it's not too broken! I'm glad you liked the story so much that it invoked a physical response, though, hahaha. And don't worry, there'll be quite a few more Dean/LaCroix scenes, plenty more where the last one left off. ;) Glad you're enjoying the story!

10. You Want Us to Do What?

"...What the fuck?"

Ariane had arrived early that night, and then proceeded to help the Sheriff spend the better part of the night looking all over Venture Tower for any signs of Dean and LaCroix. From 9:00 pm to about 1:30 am, they searched all the levels of the Tower, navigating the maze that was the Tower's hallways. Sheriff seemed to know more about the layout than Ariane, obviously, though it was clear that he hadn't visited them much before. 'Round about 1:35, though, Ariane had finally come across a door at the end of a hallway, jarred open and smelling faintly of dust. Suspicious, she walked around the doorway to peak inside, and sure enough, the two dolts were in there. In a bit of a compromising position.

She stared for a moment, brows raised as she contemplated why exactly Dean had LaCroix wrapped protectively in his arms, his head resting on her boss' shoulder. Or why LaCroix had his hand laid across Dean's torso, or why their feet were entangled. Both fast asleep. "...What the fuck?" she said out loud, drawing the attention of the Sheriff (also incidently caused Dean to shift a bit against LaCroix and nuzzle his face closer to his neck).

The Sheriff silently lumbered over to the doorway, breathing deeply in what could be construed as a sigh as he looked at the figure of his boss and their new employee. Stoic as ever, he stepped into the room and prepared to wake the two sleeping innocents.

LaCroix was at a loss as to what to think. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so compromised, let alone when he had been unconscious due to injury. He recalled being cornered by quite a few Sabbat hooligans, and ridding of some of them before more were introduced. He had been overwhelmed, and lost awareness.

He vaguely remembers Mr. McMaron arriving, and feeling quite relived to have the lowlife there with him. There was a certain blackness, and then Mr. McMaron was shouting at him. He couldn't find the strength to open his eyes, but he could almost feel the panic leveling his employee. Then there was a wetness at his lips, and a delicious, addicting flavor seeped down his throat, forcing his body to jump into action. He fangs revealed themselves and plunged into the source of their own accord. When he regained control of his faculties, it had been too late. He had drank from another kindred.

And therein lied the problem. While it had most likely saved his unlife, it frightened him to be at such a disadvantage. He could remember the ties he had had to his Sire, and how reliant his ghoul, Mercurio, was on his blood and the devotion the Bond caused. He did not want that for himself, especially to his own lowlife of an employee. While Mr. McMaron was quite loyal, and had yet to show any signs of betrayal, a Prince simply could not afford such a liability.

The Prince took a moment to look at the kin who had saved his unlife, lying on his couch within his office, still unconscious. He had sustained injuries, mostly along his forearms and face, where LaCroix suspected a Sabbat brute had clawed at him. It seemed, though, that Mr. McMaron might have sustained brain injuries as well, as he had refused to awaken ever since he had been moved to the office. He wasn't particularly worried, however if Mr. McMaron were to eventually reach Final Death, he would be out a loyal employee and agent. The Prince was contemplating ways to revive him when said employee decided to wake up.

Everything was bleary at first, coming to his eyes in a blinding light of shapes and colors. He noticed a particularly dark blob right above his face, and recognized it as Ari's dark hair. He attempted speech, but his voice just kind of came out as a low grumble of sleepy throat noises. Besides, Ari beat him to it.

"The fuck did you think you were doing?" she asked angrily, her hands on her hips and her head cocked to the side. Her face was coming in a bit clearer now, and he could tell she obviously wasn't very happy.

He groaned again, this time intentionally, and covered his eyes with his arm. Except the marks on his arm burned as he touched them, and he realized that he had some serious boo-boos. "Whaddya mean?" he slurred at her, gently setting his arms to his sides as he sat up slowly. He took a second to look around - he was in Princess's office. On that really ugly couch, too. Figures.

Ariane just tsked at him and shook her head angrily. "You were cuddling with the Prince when we found you, all cut up. And tons of dead vamps around you. Care to explain?"

God, she was starting to sound more like his mother every day. "Fuck you. I killed them. I saved the Princess. What's your problem again?" he groused, refusing to look up at her again. Until a thought struck, and his eyes found hers immediately. "Cuddling?"

But she just ignored him, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Prince wants to talk to us. You up for a job, slick?"

Dean sighed, shaking his head. "Not... really. Can I just take a mome- "

"Ah! You're awake. Good," the Prince cuts him off, striding towards his two employees with a bit of a spring in his step, for being almost dead. Again. "Are you feeling well, Mr. McMaron?" he asks, grinning softly. Kinda weirding Dean out.

"Uh... not so much- "

"Good! Good. I have a task for you. Both of you." He looks at Ariane, hesitation just barely in his eyes. Dean wonders briefly how he had gotten to reading the Princess so well. "The Sabbat are desperate. A pack of shovelheads with cheap pistols was all they could muster. They've been mislead into thinking the sarcophagus holds a sleeping ancient, their most coveted feats. Diablerists," he said the last word under his breath in a sound of disdain.

Dean got curious. "What's a diablerist?" he asks innocently.

LaCroix scowled, though it was directed more to the subject than Dean. Then he launched into monologue mode. "The Sabbat's infamy is due, in no small part, to their practice of diablerie. That is, drinking the blood of other kindred, especially older ones, until they are dead." The mention of drinking another kindred's blood made LaCroix's voice strain a bit and Dean freeze. Ari didn't seem to notice, however. "Diablerists gain the power of those they've fed upon. In the Camarilla, this act is punishable by death."

Questions about Dean's decision the previous nice flooded into his head. Was it only until they were dead? What if LaCroix had some of his power now? He didn't know what that shadow thing was last night, but he was positive he'd never seen it before, even on other kindred. Maybe it was a unique power, or only very few kin had it? Maybe he had passed it on to LaCroix now? Or maybe even LaCroix would be given Final Death for drinking from him, even if it was to save his unlife. Or maybe Dean would be Finalized? It helped him, sure, but Dean did feel pretty dirty forcing his blood down the Princess's throat. Maybe it was like the vampire equivalent of rape? Dean shuddered.

But the Princess kept on, either not noticing Dean's discomfort or choosing to ignore it. "For the moment, we've manipulated the press into reporting tonight's events as a terrorist attack. The threat the Sabbat pose to the Masquerade is abundantly clear. As my best agents," He looked Dean directly in the eye, almost ignoring Ariane this time. "I'm sure you can guess my course of action. This is where you come in.

"The Sabbat have made their haven at the Hallowbrook Hotel - right under our noses, here in downtown. Kill their leader; the rest with scamper out of the city. This is the last time they will ever set foot in Los Angeles."

Ari seemed determined to do what she was told - for what reason, Dean may never know. She sure was good at playing her 'loyal follower' card, though. She grabbed Dean's arm again out of sheer habbit and yanked him to his feet, not caring that she grasped his wounds so tightly. He winced, but stood up with her. But LaCroix stopped them before they could walk out. "Before you go - Beckett told me you went to the Society of Leopold, Miss Noel. Did you find out how my sarcophagus is opened?"

Though a bit hesitant, Ariane turned around and nodded slowly, getting ready to deal with the Princess head-on. As much as she talked shit to Dean, and even knowing she was a spy, she sure did seem frightened of a little French man. "Y-yes, sir. There's a... key."

"A key? Where? Do you have it?" He was practically jumping for joy, his current worries floating away into the distance.

Ariane sighed. "That's the thing, sir. I don't know." Before LaCroix could throw another tantrum, she quickly added, "But I killed Bach!"

The Princess was quiet for a moment, letting the information sink in and to calm down from the key thing. Then he smiled, almost genuinely. "Not only did you infiltrate the Society of Leopold, but you managed to kill their greatest hunter! You certainly are developing a legend for yourself. A toast to you, Mr. McMaron, and the victory over the Sabbat! And to Bach, may all his progeny meet such fates."

Dean swore he would be able to hear the fakeness in that praise a mile away.

LaCroix's faux smile faded away then, returning back to the current mission. "The Sabbat must be wiped out before dawn. Then, when you come back, we'll begin the hunt for the key."

Ariane started out the door, and Dean followed her slowly. But as she left the room and the door closed behind her, Dean hesitated. He thought for a moment about what he was about to do, then turned back around to look at LaCroix. The Princess had already started to make his way back to his desk and didn't notice Dean not leaving. Dean takes an unnecessary deep breath. "Princess?" he called out softly, still not aware of how disrespectful the pet name was.

LaCroix jumped ever so slightly, then turned around to scowl at Dean for calling him such a thing. But when he saw Dean's face, and that genuine look of concern, his anger fell away into confusion. "Yes, Mr. McMaron? I'm quite busy, as you should be too." He paused. "And I would appreciate if you'd refrain from addressing me as 'Princess'."

Dean just kind of smirked, though it was far more soft than many would consider a smirk to be. "Yeah, well, you know me. My mouth has a mind of it's own." An awkward silence filled the room as LaCroix waited for Dean to say whatever it was he needed to say. Dean rubbed the back of his neck and his brows drew together. "I... well, uh, Mr. Boss sir, I was just wondering if you were... doing alright. What with the attack and everything." He cleared his throat.

The Princess's cold, icey eyes softened and his shoulders sagged a little. And for a moment, LaCroix looked human. Well, not human, but... hell, you know what I mean. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. McMaron. I'm still quite weary from the earlier battle, but I've been treated to some fine vitae since I awoke, and I am recovering quite quickly. Though, as I am to understand it, you were the one to come to my rescue." His lips tug at a small smile.

Dean grins widely at the news, finding his confidence once again. "Of course! The knight in shining armor must always come to save his Princess!" he laughed, then realized the implications of such a comparison. "Well, what I meant was- "

LaCroix's eyes had widened a fraction for a moment there, but since returned to his scowling. "Go do your job, Mr. McMaron."

Seeing that as a way out, Dean nodded quickly before practically running out of the office.

"So... that was fun." Dean doubled over, pain coursing through his whole being. Everything hurt - from his muscles, to his organs, to the numerous amount of wounds that covered his whole body. His head was throbbing from a few sharp blows and the cut on his calf was making it extremely difficult to move his leg - not to mention the sheer amount of bullet holes that spotted his internal organs and muscle masses. "Shit, Ari, we could have used... backup."

Ariane fared no better. She was also grievously injured, with a few scattered shotgun wounds to her torso along with the average amount of cuts, bruises, and bullet holes. While Dean had dealt with the majority of the Sabbat throughout the hotel, Ariane got the brunt of Andrei's attack. There was no doubt she had many broken bones.

The hotel itself was horrible. They originally had to ride the window cleaner's lift thing to get in, and from that point onward had to fight through tons of winding hallways, empty rooms, and just generally disgusting places full of Sabbat assholes. While not quite the hardest guys to take down, their sheer numbers were enough to stagger the Sheriff. And after floor after floor, Dean and Ari finally made it to the basement, where they had run into Andrei - apparently a tzimisce (of whom Dean had only heard horrible stories) she'd befriended while looking for the nosferatu. He defied the laws of physics and turned himself into a monster, then swam under 6 in pools of blood to flank them. It was fun. Really.

Ari just put on her bitch face, not even bothering to turn around and show him it. "Yeah, well, we didn't have it. And it's done. So shut the fuck up so we can get back to Venture and get us some fucking blood. Okay?"

Dean found enough strength within his arm to raise it and flap his fingers and thumb together in a mock 'nagging' motion.

Another flight of stairs and they would be back to the surface, the blessed land that was a paved street. Dean decided he wouldn't mind the last bit of their journey together to be silent. A couple more painful steps on the top of the stairs, across the lobby, Ari's hand on the front door knob, and -

"Be at peace, kin, you stand among friends now." - Holy mother of the planet and space and shit! It's some sort of freaky Asian chick! As Dean's jumped out of his skin, Ariane seems to have recognized this woman and is talking with her. What the fuck? Apparently they were already carrying on a conversation. How do women do that? "I've come to reveal to you the truth, so that you may see that you are not the fists of LaCroix but the hands that will put the final events of this war into motion."

Already Dean was on edge. This sounded like some sort of scheme to try and turn him and Ari against LaCroix. Ari was already on the Anarch's side, but Dean was steadfast in his loyalty to his Princess. He wasn't about to let some creepy Asian vampire get in the way of that.

"We had an arrangement, LaCroix and I. A mutually beneficial pact to drive the lesser factions from the city. However, LaCroix's zeal in recovering the Ankaran Sarcohpagus has been to the exclusion of many relationships... mine included. And I, like both of you, have been used by him in his desperate quest for power."

Ariane seemed interested, if not in what LaCroix had done, then at least some sort of intel for her Anarchs. "How so?"

The Asian lady looked pleased to have gotten through to Ariane's curiosity. "LaCroix feared Alistair Grout, the Malkavian primogen - for the cursed insight of his bloodline was strong and brought him uncomfortably close to the truth about LaCroix's ambitions. LaCroix saw an opportunity to rid himself of two problems - a hardened rebel leader and a problematic primogen - in one fell stroke. And, as you can see, I was integral to his plan." The woman then morphed into a perfect image of Nines, striking Dean with a horrible realization. He never really liked Nines - and they were on opposite sides, sure, but to have led to a bloodhunt on the guy because of this bitch? Dean's fists clenched of their own accord. He didn't like being played. "LaCroix convinced me that an alliance with the Camarilla could strengthen the position of the Kuei-jin. And so, with my help, your prince framed Nines Rodriguez for the murder of Alistair Grout."

Ariane turned to Dean. "So it was her? That you saw? And LaCroix... set all that up?" Dean wasn't sure who all she was trying to play now, with her fake worry - the Chinese lady, or him.

"Yes," chick answered for him. "He was made to be the witness, for his political naivete put his word beyond reproach; no one would believe he'd devise such a story. LaCroix used him and once again turned a problem to his own advantage. Our dealings with LaCroix have put his integrity into question. He has become careless. His desire for the sarcophagus seems to have superseded all other concerns, including political discretion. It is obvious to me that he wishes to obtain it only so that he might use its power against those who would oppose him. If he betrays his own kind in these pursuits, can I trust him to honor our allegiances? Can you?"

Dean had heard enough. "You're spewing bullshit, lady. Of fucking course I can trust him. He's not done even a single facial expression to show otherwise," he spat, taking a step towards her, trying to intimidate.

But she remained calm and collected. "You need to understand that you are a liability, Kindred. Once LaCroix finds the right moment, you will be disposed of, just as he did with Alistair Grout, Mr. Rodriguez, and countless others. You are no more to him than an entry on his ledger; a sum of that which can be bled from you."

"Shut the fuck up, lady! I'm so much more valuable to Princess than any of you! He gives me the real shit, the jobs no one else can do. He trusts me! I get to see his face, his humanity. I bet if you'd stop trying to kiss everyone's ass to get whatever it is you fucking want, you'd realize that there's nothing for you here!" With that, he spun around and walking away, not caring in the least bit that Ariane was not following him.

Softly, he overheard the lady say a few more words to Ari before he was completely out of earshot: "Hear these words, Kindred. The sarcophagus is sealed against the ages; only the proper key will break this seal. That key now lies safely in Kuei-jin hands. Your prince's prize cannot be had without it. I hope you recognize my sincerity, Kindred. I would like to see you reach your destination before your path is cut short. I hope when next we meet, it is again as friends."