Things were beginning to slow down. Less frantic mess meant more time for me to think, something I was trying to desperately avoid. I didn't want to think about LaCroix, I didn't want to think about Layla, I didn't want to think about Jimmy and how I'd dragged him into the whole mess... I didn't want to think about the ring... Several times, I'd been lying in bed as the sun rose; and a laugh would escape because I'd thought about how likely it would be that LaCroix would actually use the ring to propose to me. Pretty much zero percent of a chance. That's not to say I was hoping for it. After all, marriage as Kindred seemed like an odd concept. Fidelity as Kindred was odd enough, let alone an institution like marriage. Maybe someday...tax breaks or whatever. That was the part that always made me laugh: the fact that the only reason to even think about marriage anymore was the fringe benefits that humans get from it. But still, it was rather dangerous at the same time. A marriage license would mean digging into one's past for identity purposes, dangerous for LaCroix. Plus, it would be on public record; and that could prove problematic a hundred years or so down the line. Granted, I was sure the Camarilla had enough people placed in the right offices to tidily cover up things like that, much in the same way LaCroix's immigration from France had likely been handled; but it was never an impossibility that something might slip through the cracks can cause problems.

So, rather than think, I found anything I could do to keep myself busy. While Camarilla matters in Sacramento were quickly becoming more organized and routine, that didn't mean that Prince Evans didn't have tasks for me to do. Many of such tasks were escorting VIPs around the city or being a package girl. It reminded me of my first months with the LaCroix Foundation, really. Each "job" only proved to make me wish my two months would hurry and pass so I could go back home, especially when I was tasked with escorting a snobbish Malkavian named Doreen Felina who insisted that my name was Beatrice and that I had a faulty memory. "Oh, Beatrice, you know I never sit on the right side of the car, especially while it's moving!" she'd said to me when I opened the passenger door for her. She'd tut-tutted me and walked around to the back of the car and tapped her foot impatiently. "This door won't open itself, Beatrice!"

"Um, but Miss Felina-"

"Oh, Beatrice, did you forget your keys again?"

Frowning, I looked down at the keys in my hand before looking back up at the strange woman. "No, ma'am, I have them."

"I swear, Beatrice, you really must begin keeping spare sets!" She briskly walked over to me, painful-looking stiletto heels clicking sharply on the asphalt of the parking lot. Her hand grabbed my wrist, and she took the keys from me. Dangling the keys in front of my face, she said, "Here they are, Beatrice, right where I told you they'd be! Now don't lose them this time, for heaven's sake!" With that, she slapped the keys back into my still outstretched hand and walked back to the rear of the car, crossing her arms over her chest and beginning to tap her foot again.

At that point, I was more than happy to lock her in the trunk as she seemed to want. Pasting a big smile on my face, I opened the trunk and made an "after you" gesture. Miss Felina gave an agitated sigh and rolled her eyes. "I'm not driving, Beatrice. Why do you want me to get in the cockpit?"

My smile faded, but I managed to regain it as I used a little too much force to slam the trunk shut. "I must not be thinking, ma'am, I'm sorry." As I went around to the driver's side of the car to open the door to the back seat for her, I muttered, "A fucking ghoul should be doing this job..." I tried to picture Mercurio in my position and nearly laughed out loud as Miss Felina finally got into the car. I shut the door behind her, still snickering inwardly as I got into the driver's seat. A piercing shriek made me jump.

"Beatrice! Oh, how did you ever get this job? You can't fly!"

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Oh my god..." I muttered under my breath. "We're not flying, ma'am," I explained, trying to keep my voice calm. "We're driving. On the ground. Don't worry, I'm licensed."

"Oh. Well. That's a relief."

Thank you... I thought as I started the car. My teeth were gritting together as I pulled out of the parking lot. I just wanted the night to be over at that point.

I felt a hand grab my shoulder tightly. "Please be careful," Miss Felina said. "I hear there are wild angels roaming about. It would be a tragedy if we hit them."

I smiled tightly. "No worries, Miss Felina, the angels only fly. They don't bother with us ground creatures."

"Oh, no, no! You're forgetting that they're no longer locked to the air! They've been given their land wings!"

Rolling my eyes again, I fought the urge to shake my head. What the fuck...this Malk's weirder than any of the rest. "I'll be careful, Miss Felina," I assured her.

"Now, Beatrice, don't forget where we're going."

"Yes, ma'am, to the museum so you can attend the prince's court."

"Court? Oh, Beatrice, you've forgotten already. We're not going to the courthouse. We're going to the museum."

Someone just kill me now. Final Death sounds so nice right now. "How silly of me, ma'am. Of course. To the museum it is."

"Honestly, I'm convinced that Prince Evans has only hired you out of pity. Your memory is very lacking."

I'm going to rip this bitch's throat out! "Fortunately for all of us, I'm only here on a temporary basis."

"Oh. And then where will you go? If you can remember, of course, dear."

I sighed, wishing I were there already. "Los Angeles, where I work for Prince LaCroix."

"Ah! Prince LaCroix! The Golden Snake himself!"

I coughed, unsure if I should laugh at that or smack the woman sitting behind me. "Excuse me?"

"Always a scheme on his mind and blessed with a golden tongue, that man." She clucked her tongue. "Fire in his heart, though. Can't fault him for that."

That made me smile a bit. She was at least right there. "Very true, Miss Felina."

"That girl he keeps around...She'll put out that fire."

I nearly twisted around in my seat to look at her upon hearing that. "What do you mean?"

"Or he'll put her out. Either way. They don't go well together. Someone will meet their Final Death with their pairing."

I swallowed nervously. "If he could put her out, that means she's a firey one too, right? Two fires put together would just consume each other and become one, not extinguish the other," I said carefully, trying to delve into my little bit of "Malkavian thinking" I'd picked up over the years.

"Hm, you might be right, Beatrice," Miss Felina said. Glancing back at her in the rear-view mirror, I saw her tapping her ruby-stained lips with a carefully manicured fingernail. "But two fires coming together could mean the whole city would burn... They're dangerous together, for each other and for everyone around..."

I stayed silent for a few moments, and it took those few moments for me to realize I was smirking as I thought over her words. "I'm sure they could come together and stay under control. After all, it's Prince LaCroix's job to keep the city in check."

"But who will keep him in check?" Her eyes suddenly met mine in the mirror, and I shivered.

"He has his superiors in the Camarilla, the same as any other prince."

She shook her head, then looked out the window next to her. "The snake will poison everyone, burn everything, then move on. It's always the same..."

I cleared my throat. "Do you know Prince LaCroix, Miss Felina?"

In the mirror, I saw her shake her head as she still watched the streets pass outside. "Never heard of him."

The rest of the ride to the museum was silent, thankfully. I parked the car and went to the back to open Miss Felina's door. She'd already slid across the seat, though, and let herself out the passenger door. "Oh, Beatrice, did you really forget what side I was sitting on? Really?"

I clenched my teeth as I slammed the door shut. "Looks that way," I muttered, following her as she went into the museum.

The meeting was standing room only, and I had to wonder if every Kindred in Sacramento was in attendance. The prince had no platform or stage to make his speech from, but his voice carried clearly through the large room in which we were all assembled. Prince Evans had arranged this to formally give an update to any Kindred in the city who was interested in knowing how the Camarilla was settling in. He introduced the new primogen one by one, taking the time to go into their histories and backgrounds. Once the formal speech he'd had planned was out of the way, Prince Evans announced that the rest of the meeting was going to be much more informal, just a gathering with chatting during which he invited anyone who wished to come up to talk to him. I couldn't help but smile. He was trying to make himself the "people's prince," as I had dubbed it when he told me his plan to proceed in such a manner. I couldn't really find fault with it; but at the same time, I wondered if it would help or hinder his building respect and a face of leadership.

"Miss Lucas," I heard a female voice say behind me, and a light hand rested on my shoulder.

I turned and couldn't speak for a few moments. After swallowing hard and clearing my throat, I finally greeted the woman. "Miss Neubauer." I couldn't help but blink in surprise a few times, then I shook myself out of my shocked state with a small laugh. "What are you doing here?"

Layla gave me a small smile. "Charles is acquainted with Prince Evans," she explained with a small shrug of thin shoulders. Her arms wrapped around her torso as if hugging herself. The action made me wonder if I made her nervous. "He hadn't had the chance to congratulate him until tonight, so we came to surprise him."

I nodded. "I see."

An awkward silence settled in between us until Layla cleared her throat. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Huh?" I said, immediately feeling totally classless. Your speech is so dignified, Nat. Jeez...

If Layla had noticed, she ignored my lack of a dignified response. "I recently caught wind of a rumor that you think I'm going to try something with Sebastian."

I sighed and shook my head. "I..." Shaking my head again, I looked around and wondered if there was an office we could duck into to speak privately. Instead of that, I said, "Look, can we talk about this outside?"

"Of course."

As Layla followed me out of the museum, I tried to calm my panicked thoughts. Had she found out about Jimmy and this was the nicest way she could bring it up? Once in the parking lot, I took a deep breath and turned to her. "Okay. Here's the thing. I don't know what to expect from you. All I know is that, except for the last time I saw you, I've gotten a vibe from you that says I'm very unliked by you." Layla's lips twitched into a small smirk. Before she could say anything, though, I continued. "I know what you and Sebastian had. I know how far it went. I know how...connected you are to him."

"And did he happen to tell you how connected he is to me?" she said. I detected a touch of venom in her words.

I nodded, and the smirk faded from her face completely. "He did," I answered, reinforcing my nod. "I know he was in love with you and you with him. Of course I'm going to feel threatened by you."

Layla's brow furrowed, and she gave me a confused frown. "You doubt his feelings for you?"

Tread carefully, Nat. She can't know this is all fake. I smiled lightly and shook my head. "I don't. I know how he feels about me. I suppose it's merely the insecurity of a woman who wonders how she could possibly measure up to his past loves." Layla studied me for a few moments, and I couldn't really read her expression. Breaking another impending awkward silence, I asked, "Would you? I mean, if given the opportunity, would you try to take Sebastian back?"

She seemed startled by my question. Her eyes dropped to the ground, and I noticed a new tenseness in her face. Her lips pressed tightly together, she shook her head. "I wouldn't bother," she said, her voice cold. "He wouldn't have me. He's made that clear enough time and time again."

I was the one studying her this time, and she seemed to be refusing to meet my eyes. "Why did you give the ring back?" I asked softly. My question made her finally look up at me. "Why now? After so long? You could have just kept it if you still have feelings for him. Like keeping a part of him."

She laughed bitterly. "Oh, I have a part of him running through my veins, remember?" Shaking her head, she looked away again. "What use do I have for his ring when he's giving himself to another?"

I shrugged. "You could have pawned it, then."

She scoffed and gave me a sideways glance. Her eyes dropped to the ground again, and I saw her shoulders slump a little. "I tried," she said in a small voice. "I couldn't. I remembered how much it meant to him, how he sounded when he told me what it was, that it was his mother's ring. He told me...he said that he'd originally planned to propose to his first love, but he couldn't because he was Embraced that same night." Layla shook her head again, still looking at the pavement. "He told me that I was the first in over a hundred years to be worthy of the ring, that I was the only one who could measure up to that girl."

For an instant, I felt sorry for Layla. Then I remembered why their relationship had fallen apart. That thought made me angry instead of sad. "If that was the case, why would you betray him?" I said, trying to keep my voice even and emotionless.

"The plan was in motion already. It was too late. I never expected him to propose..." She looked up with a sad smile on her face. "I guess I didn't know him as well as I thought. I thought he was more devoted to work than me. That's what made it easy to help Charles that way. It wasn't until after Sebastian proposed and I'd accepted that I could see it on his face when he told me he loved me. I was just blind to it until then, I suppose. Too wrapped up in other things..."

"I thought you were in love with him, too." My eyes darted up to the museum door for a moment. I wondered briefly how much more time we had out here privately before Kindred would start filing out.

"I didn't fall for him until after the proposal," Layla said with a sigh. "I let down my guard because I finally knew he really did love me. I thought I could cover my involvement in everything crumbling around him. I thought I could make it so he would run to me for comfort, and we could stay together. Everything worked so perfectly in my mind..."

Crossing my arms, I shook my head and chuckled under my breath. "So because it was all so 'perfect,' you drank from him and he from you, and everything went to hell after that."

She looked up at me angrily, then looked away again. "Essentially," she said, resigned. She didn't look away for long this time, though; and her eyes met mine as she came a couple steps closer to me. "All I wanted to say to you is that you have no reason to be suspicious of me. I'm no threat to you. I hope you and Sebastian will be very happy together." Her last words carried no sincerity.

"We would be happier if he wasn't plagued by the bond he has with you," I said in a low voice, nearly hissing my words. In spite of the openness we'd been sharing, the electricity of rivalry was beginning to crackle between us again.

Layla's head lifted a little, her eyes narrowing. "That's it, then, isn't it? That's what has you so worried. You're thinking that his attraction to my blood will tear you apart." She chuckled, smirking. "He hasn't drunk from you, then?"

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. "He's not going to make the same mistake twice."

"But you're probably bound to him, are you not?"

"I was his ghoul first, wasn't I?" I shot back.

Her smirk grew. She looked away, her gaze staring into the dark quiet surrounding the museum parking lot. "He's quite clever, isn't he?" she mused. "He made his mistake with me, as you said; but he's refusing to make it again with you. Yet he's made damned sure that you're bound to him. Control freak..."

I laughed. "Well, he is Ventrue like you and I."

"Be that as it may, Sebastian's hardly one to like being submissive. Especially now that he knows the side effects of such actions." She looked at me from the corner of her eye. "Don't expect to ever feel his bite, Lucas. He won't repeat that misstep. Not if my blood 'plagues' him as you say it does."

"I'm perfectly happy without his drinking from me," I said, bristling. "Besides, he's prince now. He shouldn't be bound to anyone."

Layla scoffed but didn't say anything for a long while. "It's not as if I can do anything about it anyway," she said, almost in a whisper.

I laughed; and for a moment I wondered if the low, ominous sound had really come from me. "Even that isn't totally out of your power," I said with a smirk. "I hear a walk at sunrise will fix such a problem very quickly."

Her head snapped around to level her gaze on me again, dark eyes flashing with rage. "That would make things easier for you, wouldn't it?" she spat. "After all, you wouldn't have to get your hands dirty; and neither would Sebastian. In fact, he wouldn't have to know your involvement or suggestion at all! You could just bat those big blue eyes at him and shrug innocently. 'I don't know why she'd do such a thing, dear!' Bitch." She spoke the insult through clenched teeth, and I could see her hands balling into fists as I answered her with a smirk.

"Oh, he'd know exactly why you'd do such a thing," I said. "After all, you've lost him. You have no chance of getting him back. You've really got nothing to your name that makes you stand out; you're riding on Ingram's coattails. You're nothing but a trophy, dear; and everyone knows it even if you choose to pretend you don't. How long has it been since your Embrace? A hundred years? Close to it, at least? And your one chance at something big was ruined because you got too close to your victim. Face it, honey, pulling a fast one on LaCroix was the only chance you had or at least the only one you've chosen to take. And you blew it. You might as well go out and greet the sun in the morning, because things just aren't seeming to change for you." My smile got bigger as I kept talking, and Layla was eventually shaking with anger.

"You think I'll do it just because you said so?" she said finally.

"No, but I'll bet you'd do it if he told you to fuck off," I answered, grinning.

"He would never," Layla said, taking another step towards me. "He has more class and manners than that, something he apparently hasn't been able to teach you yet."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not worried about your social assessment of me, Neubauer," I told her dryly. "It's not as if anyone would listen to a word you have to say anyway."

"Do you enjoy burning bridges, Lucas?"

Laughing, I shook my head. "Sweetie, there was never any bridge built between us that I could burn. You and Ingram made sure of that when you skulked into LA a few years back."

"Hm. Perhaps. Still, you would be well advised to hold your tongue, fledgeling. No one would ever listen to a word of yours either."

"Really... Considering I had quite the hand in Prince Evans's assignment to office here, I have to wonder how accurate that statement of yours really is."

Layla stared at me for a few moments before slowly shaking her head. "I've said what I wanted to say," she said, turning to leave. "Stay away from me, stop following me, and leave me alone. I'll afford you the same courtesy."

As she left, I thought, That's all well and good, but that doesn't fix the bond you have over LaCroix. Instead of going back into the museum, I walked the rest of the way to the car in which I'd driven Miss Felina. Leaning my back against the car, I sighed. Wasn't I supposed to "make nice" with Layla? So much for that. It seemed pretty much impossible for us to be civil for more than a few moments, especially if the topic of conversation was LaCroix. "Fuck," I muttered out loud, lightly banging my fist against the car door in frustration. The impact combined with my weight against the car made the alarm begin to sound loudly, startling me and making me jump away from the car. I fumbled in my jacket pocket for the keys to shut off the alarm, which sounded ten times louder than it really was in the middle of the quiet night.

When I finally found the keys and pressed the button that brought silence back to the parking lot and surrounding streets, I heard a shrill voice breaking the new-found quiet. "Beatrice! Beatrice! Dear, you're forgetting me! Girl, you'd forget your head if it wasn't attached!"

I sighed as Miss Felina trotted up to me, seeming very distressed that I might be forgetting her and leaving without her. "I'm sorry, ma'am," I said mechanically. "You're right, of course..."