Thanks for all the reviews guys! Sorry for not answering to them now, but I'm a bt in a hurry due to work. I so wish I could dominate my boss...
Suppressing the anger rising in his chest, all the insults he'd just had to bear from that ungrateful neonate, Sebastian clenched his fists, nails nearly cutting deep into the flesh of his palms. His shoulders trembled. He didn't need to hold back. No dosage of finely calculated anger was needed to be fired to scare off other foolish Kindred who dared to upset him. He was alone and he needed to let this anger out without restraint. The Beast inside was roaring upon this humiliation!
"How could she dare to defy me once more?" The words were hissed against the glass of the window, then the Prince hurled himself around, pacing to his desk and back to window and so forth. Hands clasping and unclasping, fury burning in the cold grey eyes. "How could she dare?" Voice raised, Sebastian's arm swiped over his desk full of papers, pulling down a costly fountain pen and some of those papers in progress, which fell down onto the expensive parquet floor and left a puddle of ink on it. Not that he was somehow bonded to her; however, Miss Falkner was – despite her treachery – a valuable asset to his organisation. She was power and why, why did everyone want to take his power away?
"Jan! You cursed schemer!" Sebastian roared those words again into his empty office. His tantrum was private. During his longing for the sarcophagus he had made them less private, because of the stress, of the promising power it could have yielded to him, but anyway he'd learned his lesson. He needed patience and Jan was the official confirmation that his quest for the sarcophagus and the mummy had raised more than one eyebrow amongst the elders of clan Ventrue. They shall be cursed! All of them! And now they wanted to take him down? Of course too eager ambitions were regarded with a frown, that is why he'd kept calm till now, pushing his plans to gain a seat within the Inner Circle some centuries away. But taking his most valuable asset away from him? As much as he hated to admit it, she was a key to success. Sebastian had never thought of that after seeing her the first time, being a simple woman with a peasant face, not a drip of nobility that could have made her worthy for the Blue Bloods and this woman dared to tell him boldly to his face – his! – that his teachings were inappropriate? Not enough for her?
"With whom did she think she was talking?" Nails were scratched into the polished surface of the dark wooden desk, leaving scratch marks on its once perfect countenance. The doors swung open and the Sheriff appeared again, however the Prince couldn't stand anyone's presence at the moment. "Out! Get out!" He knew it was not necessary to yell at his obedient pawn, but he needed to direct his anger towards someone or something unfortunate who was simply there at the wrong time. In an instant the Sheriff turned around and was gone again, waiting in front of his office like a statue and Sebastian began his obsessive pacing again. Fists clenching and unclenching again, teeth grinding.
"Ne me prends pas pour un idiot!" Did Jan really think he could make a fool out of him just because he was privileged? Or did he...no! Sebastian stopped his pacing again as his anger received a sudden silencer. Could Jan actually suspect anything? If he did, the uncovering of this would be an outrage, not to mention a severe drawback to his agenda. Did he leave any traces? Impossible! His domination was perfect! So why would Jan meddle in his agenda, besides the obvious reasons which were circulating around: the death of nearly the whole Counsel of Primogen, his secret alliance with the Kuei-Jin; however this was all necessary! Naturally he understood the mistake of his conquest for the sarcophagus. Not that anyone would understand the kind of pressure resting on his shoulders which could have been lifted by more power, besides Sebastian's successes were on the other hand not in question and all these successes lead back to Miss Falkner. So, assuming this was also Jan's line of thought and not the other possibility, the Prince would be able to deal with it. Pondering, he walked to the sole chair in front of the fireplace and sat down, one hand at his chin. He would keep his protégé, no matter what! She was his property! To whom else did she owe her life at first? Besides, how could she even be able to fend off the blood bond? Not to speak of insulting him more without complimenting nor acknowledging his superb skill in le sabrage! To his own frustration his past attempts at binding her further failed because of unimportant interference.
'Primogen Voerman...this won't go without an aftermath.' These intentions were filed in his brain for later execution. On the other hand he could still force Miss Falkner to drink his vitae. Yes, this would be appropriate, even if she were to refuse. To be honest, Sebastian enjoyed that small meddling with her, feeling some long lost longing he hadn't had for decades. Without a doubt the reason for this wasn't because he'd drank her vitae! That thought alone was preposterous! He was the Prince! He had enough willpower not to be affected by the weak blood of a simple neonate! He loved power. He longed for power and she was power to put it simply. It just came in a very interesting form he did not see before.
Sebastian stood up again, stepping to the rifle he'd taken into commission and gently brushing over it, closing his eyes. The Regent was able to read the emotions etched into it and the Prince had tried to do the same more than once. Could he actually believe in the words of the warlock? Letting out a frustrated snarl, he wasn't able to read anything! It was easy to see the current emotions of neonates in their aura, of course it was! It often helped Sebastian to manipulate them like he wanted to, regardless of what their faces were showing, and still he had not mastered auspex to the same degree as the Regent.
"I should have killed you that night!" Cursed woman! Regardless of how often he sent her on a death mission, she returned alive and victorious! After the first wave of anger and surprise about her success in destroying the warehouse, the Prince had reminded himself of why she was so successful and that it shouldn't have been unexpected. Furthermore, even against his better judgment, he'd ordered the Sheriff to leave her alive despite crossing his way in obtaining the mummy. Massaging his forehead, Sebastian sank down into one of his red sofas, leaning back. No, he couldn't kill her that easily. She was valuable after all and this was a fact he needed to call often into his mind; besides no one else waked this long lost pleasant longing in him. Out of curiosity he once easily seduced Miss Cecilia but that was not nearly the same sensation as with Miss Falkner, even if she wasn't his taste in terms of standards. Women. What a needless distraction! Still he couldn't ignore the first touch at the airport, feeling warm soft lips like the most expensive fabric he could not buy even with all his money. The second time he'd forced his lips on hers, as she drank his blood which educed a pleased moan from him. Sebastian sighed and shook his head. After her betrayal, he was not willing to deny her a kiss and to drink his vitae once more until they were interrupted! And of course the taste of fine vintage from those lips! He wanted to explore those feelings more, simultaneously seducing Miss Falkner easily and binding her. So much for her words that she couldn't understand how any woman could turn him down. Of course no woman could turn him down but she was! Sebastian snorted, frustrated upon realising that he was wasting his precious time. He needed to plan ahead of Jan. Of course there was more in jeopardy than a precious asset: his position as Prince. Miss Falkner knew too much and even if she didn't spill anything important out, Jan could force her to. He needed to secure her loyalty and prevent her from spending more time alone with the ambassador, besides all of this already foiled a plan of his. The assignment to kill Kent Alan Ryan was bound to fail from the beginning, his outburst that she failed was merely well-placed anger and the frozen negotiations were only a temporary problem. He wanted to be accused of ordering the ill-begotten Toreador's assassination. Abram's childe had returned to the city, once again attracting hunters. Sebastian wanted – as an act of goodwill and political PR – that his protégé would ensure Ash River's security. The Anarchs would have looked foolish upon their accusations. All of L.A.'s eyes would have been on Katherine Falkner, the Prince's most trusted protégé who protected an Anarch Baron's childe with her life. Even more the newly gained fact that Ash Rivers already owed her two life boons would have at least silenced Abrams for a long time but now with Jan's interference he had to reconsider his plans.
Point one: He needed to keep Miss Falkner in Los Angeles.
Well this task was the most important one and the most complicated. In case Jan suspected the right thing, he needed to turn the tables, coming up with something just as scandalous as the truth and Sebastian could only think about one possibility, the thought of which alone caused pain to his ego. But there were sacrifices to be made and he had to bear them, if not his whole agenda was about to be foiled completely. The Prince had unwavering confidence in his ability to...make up stories, so after careful examination of Jan's possible suspicions, he could choose either way. Perhaps the childe of Hardestadt really was simply interested in her abilities and didn't suspect anything at all. Without a doubt that was the ideal scenario, however it would be too easy. Nothing was easy as Prince of a city like Los Angeles. He wouldn't underestimate his clanmate, the childe of a founder of the Camarilla. Again: Curse the woman for defying him! She would also pay for this. Sebastian would teach her a lesson never to think of leaving him again! Him! The Prince of Los Angeles! Once more he felt anger rising, as his hands dug into the soft red cushion.
Point two: Simultaneously soothing the Anarchs without Miss Falkner.
As long as he didn't execute his plan to keep her in the city, Sebastian needed a run-around plan for this. That matter couldn't wait until the first problem was solved, else it would lose the desired effect. Who was as valuable to him as Miss Falkner? Well the answer was simple: no one, however the question was quite wrong. It had to be, 'Who appears to the outside to be as valuable as Miss Falkner?' The answer was, again, easy: Miss Cecilia. Sending her would perhaps have an even greater effect. Of course there needed to be some modification of reasoning, but he didn't doubt he'd find some. It didn't change the matter of the life boons; however, Miss Cecilia could suffice as an olive branch. Sending her to Hollywood, deep into an Anarch barony, tying the relationship of Rivers and Abrams. It wasn't a secret that his childe was not very fond of having been sired. Even if this weren't to be the case – Sebastian assumed that the old diva would rather stake himself than owe a favour to him – the Baron couldn't refuse a peaceful offer; just give Miss Cecilia a pistol and tell her to make herself useful and to watch out for Mr. Rivers, always with the argument in hand that he required protection. Sure, Abrams had his own gang of thugs, but according to his information his childe also wasn't very fond of that. The Baron wouldn't be able to refuse! Period.
"Why do you make me go through such trouble, Katherine? Why must you vex me so much?" It was more a thought spoken out loud into the huge office and under different circumstances Sebastian wouldn't have even considered speaking it out loud! "Je ne suis pas assez puissant pour toi?" His nails dug deeper into the red fabric and before he ripped it open, the Prince stood up. He would show her how powerful he was, that she couldn't flee from him!
"Sheriff! You may come in!" It was time to take action. He'd already pondered long enough and the night was coming to an end, and just as he reached his desk the Sheriff also took his usual position. "Miss Gyllenhaal? Please send up a ghoul to clean my office and then contact Baron Abrams. I wish to talk to him immediately." Abrams wouldn't answer right away of course. He knew the cursed diva's petty pouting strategy to make him wait.
"Yes Prince LaCroix," the fine voice of the Toreador confirmed.
"And tomorrow evening contact Mr. Pieterzoon, as there is also something I wish to discuss with him. It is utterly important, so make that clear to him." It was a fine calculated delay. In any case it shouldn't give the impression that his 'sinful secret' was affecting Sebastian in his decisions. No, that would be a new reason to dispose of him, so he needed to find a finely trimmed line which was named 'tolerable'.
"Yes, Prince LaCroix. Is there something more I can do?" the Toreador's voice asked after some seconds through the intercom.
"No Miss Gyllenhaal, thank you and good evening." Now it was time to indoctrinate Miss Cecilia. He knew about her jealousy towards Miss Falkner and vice versa. If women could distract men from important work, so could men use their petty emotions and drabble for affection for their own favour. He would use Miss Cecilia to strike a punishment against Katherine's insubordination. She wouldn't be able to find an opening for an attack against his protégé, needing a slight bit of stimulus. Sebastian found his self-confident smile again as he walked out of the office, ignoring the ghoul, who bowed deep down as the Prince of Los Angeles passed him.
AN: Ne me prends pas pour un idiot! - Don't think I'm a fool!
Je ne suis pas assez puissant pour toi? - Am I not powerful enough for you?
A thousand thanks to Shoryaku no Neko for correcting my terrible French! Like I said, I'm a terrible liar. I just had to write this for a couple of reasons: a) To wash away any suspicion that LaCroix is morphing into an blood bound, lovesick douche despite being affected by the blood bond b) JYHAAAAAAAD! c) Fanservice d) I so wanted to write him during a royal tantrum! e) To make clear that he is still power hungry but out of the sarcophagus craze, being again the man who rose in merely 200 years to his current position.