Author Note: Sorry for the slight delay. But here is a long chapter, from LaCroix's POV. In this chapter he (and you readers) will get to know a little more about my OC, Amelia. Likewise, there's some insight into being a ghoul, based on the sourcebook Ghoul: Fatal Addiction, although I have adjusted/added some aspects.

Thank you for your follows and reviews. Enjoy :D

An hour since he arrived home after a lengthy board meeting and Sebastian LaCroix sat in his office contemplating a few subjects on his mind. Principal among these were machinations on his position. How might he turn his soon-to-be dominion of Los Angeles to his favour - a power he could maintain? And, avoid himself becoming just a useful - but disposable - instrument of the Camarilla's ends, a suspicion he couldn't shake the feeling of.

As for the young woman, it had been a few nights since the previous events. He had yet to interact with her again and, for the time being, that seemed reasonable. His schedule was filled with business dealings. Not to mention Camarilla politics and Ventrue meetings to consider, none of which she was yet privy to. For now, he did not think it appropriate to expose her to any of this. Still reeling from the shock of his reality, she was a liability and could be exploited. Others would know she was a new servant of his - they could smell it on her.

It was better for her to be kept here for now. Which was not a great deal different from her previous behaviour - she hadn't left the house much anyway. There was the matter of the training course she was attending, but if there was a chance of her encountering the hunter again, LaCroix would rather prevent it.

She had been in her apartment since the discovery and her initiation through the blood. This was just as well - a few days to calm down and adjust would do her good. She could not escape - unless she had a head for heights, but it was a long way down to street level. And whatever weaponry she had - though inconsequential and minor - had been confiscated so she couldn't fashion any nasty surprises. In spite of her timid persona, she had proved bolder than appearances seemed.

It had been a while since she had come out of her apartment, and hadn't been letting in the other ghoul called Leticia Bianchi. It appeared that she had locked herself inside. But she would have to come out sooner or later.

What was her reaction to the first time receiving his blood? Some were full of elation and invigorated by a feeling of potency when vampiric vitae commingled with theirs. With this usually came a deep feeling of devotion towards their regnant. Sometimes with worrying obsession. But, since she had not been coming to find him every night, he deduced that this hadn't happened so forcefully. Which was just as well. He loathed when they followed one about like a lovesick puppy.

He supposed he could have refrained from doing it yet. Had he been too rash? No one else was aware. The only other Kindred who had interacted with her was the Ventrue fledgeling Marianne Stewart, a Childe of an associate of his. She was serving as his PA during a period of mentorship from LaCroix, but had not worked with Miss Siddall for weeks, and had no idea that the mortal woman had learned his true nature now. Only he knew. So it could have been kept a secret for a short time, even though her knowledge of him technically broke the First Tradition… But it had been done. Had to be. He'd always had it in mind, so why did it matter when it took place? No, the circumstances did matter, and they were not as ideal as he had planned… But now, the situation had to be accepted, and he to take responsibility for it.

Since she had yet to leave her room, he had sent her a message early this evening.

Miss Siddall,

It has come to my attention that you have been absent from work the past few days and that you have remained in your apartment for the entirety of this time. You must attend to your assignment so that completion can be achieved.

Whilst I appreciate that the enormity of these new circumstances must be overwhelming, and am prepared to allow grace for the last few days, you must cooperate.

I have some business to attend tonight but will be in my office from 11:00 pm until midnight. I hope you will make an appearance soon, of your own volition.

- S.L.

It was almost midnight. LaCroix tapped his pen on the tabletop. Tap, tap, tap. An infuriating way to count down the seconds. She had yet to appear and had not given him the courtesy of a reply. He got the impression that she was avoiding him. Possibly afraid, which was understandable. But if she was going to continue these insurrections, then he would have to scrap the whole idea. Then, there were only two options. One of which would spare her life and was perhaps the kindest thing he could do, but entailed psychological conditioning to make her forget everything. However the process of a blood bond had begun, and the situation was difficult.

LaCroix himself, of course, would not go up to the apartment he had allocated to fetch her. Instead, he preferred to summon. This compelling effect would reach out to her like a mysterious voice on the wind that must be followed. A somewhat advanced discipline, but made easier via connection in the blood. He wondered how long it would take her to arrive.

But before that was necessary, a soft knock on the door caught his attention. "Enter," he responded, appearing indifferent as he worked on writing something.

The door opened just enough for a glimpse of her pale face framed in the doorway peering around it awkwardly.

"There you are," LaCroix said dryly. She slowly opened the door enough to let herself slip through. "A little late, but at least you finally deigned to appear," his sarcasm palpable and seemed to make her wince. He watched how she lingered in the space between his desk and the door, but closer to the latter. Usually, she was in smart business casual, though not exceedingly glamourous or of high-end sophistication. But having a proper view of her now, she was in a sweater dress of a thick material and a rather shapeless form. A deal more casual than he had previously seen her in. Somewhat divergent behaviour than expected - often ghouls would go out of their way to impress. She, however, appeared to be resisting. He stared at her expectantly for a moment when she remained there. "Sit, please."

She looked down at the chair opposite him; sitting in it with a rigid posture as though ready to leap out of it. The long sleeves pulled down over her hands. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," she glanced at the time, "but it's only just midnight. You told me that would be alright?"

He noted that she seemed nervous, so thought it better to show some sympathy. "Yes. I suppose I did not specify an exact time. I'll let it go tonight, but remember this next time."

"Now, I wonder, why were you absent from your work?" he asked.

"Isn't that… obvious? After this, I've had so much to think about… how could I concentrate?"

"I understand. The last few days of absence will be allowed."

"That's… generous of you," she said, not quite believing if he was genuine and sceptical of why he would do it.

"It's reasonable," he said. "Now, given the situation, I'd like to know a few things about you. When we spoke last, you said there were people to inform, now that you are staying in my employ for longer than originally contracted. You have done this I take it?"

"No…"

"Why not?" He gave her a hard look.

"Look," she took a deep breath, putting her hands on his desk. "It's not easy for me - you are asking me to be dishonest. How do you expect me to say that I'm ok? I'm clearly not. I'm under duress - you're holding me against my will - you are also a vampire and it's more than likely that you will kill me at some point anyway! And if not you, being with you shall put me in the path of others who might. How the hell do you expect me to do this?" She started shaking; tears starting to build behind her eyes.

LaCroix watched her. "Do not tell anyone," he responded cautiously; unsettled by this sudden outburst.

"Yeah- yeah. I know," she looked away from him. "Do you honestly think they would believe me anyway?"

"It is unlikely, but there is always a chance. One can never be too careful. Regardless, I am not asking you to be entirely dishonest. It is a job opportunity - well rewarded as I have told you."

"But… but you want me to act as if 'everything is fine'," she adopted a mocking voice; artificial, painted smile, but the sadness and desperation of the situation overwhelming her suddenly, "but you know that it is not. You want me to tell my Aunt that her sister's only daughter - me - is safe, well and secure - when I am not. You like to think of yourself as noble - going about in this haughty; lordly manner; as if you are respectable and honourable. Pretending to be so hospitable and trustworthy to me. But really you're - you're," she tried to muster the words, "a vampire and you just want to use me. And... I've never met anyone as despicable in my life."

LaCroix was very silent for too long.

"Too much truth for you then," she was passive-aggressive; folding her arms.

"Do you take pleasure in antagonising me, Miss Siddall?"

"No," she seemed uneasy now. He was staring her down, and she realised she might have been more honest than she knew he could tolerate.

More silence. "Then, why do you insist on being so uncooperative?"

"I… don't. It's just what you're doing is bad. Someone needs to let you know it. Do you want everyone to be totally subordinate all the time?"

"Listen to me." His grey eyes like ice-fire bore into hers. "I told you before how fortunate you are, but I see that you have paid no heed. Do not speak to me in this way, and then presume to lecture me on honour and dignity. Courtesy is earned. Just as respect is earned. And you are insolent. You are also my servant. And you presume too much. Now, just answer my questions."

He paused to collect himself again, expecting that she would cooperate with him, yet just as he was about to continue his questions, he heard her questioning little voice again.

"But what about -"

"Silence!"

"No," she stamped her feet.

He sighed in an exaggerated way; more expression of exasperation than physiological since he had no need to breathe, "I'm tired of this. You may leave," he said not looking at her as he dismissed her.

''What?" It looked as if she was about to burst into tears. In spite of the situation and not really wanting to be here, at the same time she wanted to continue the interaction. This desire was perplexing. Perhaps the influence of his blood at work. A look of uncertainty on her face, "but I thought you wanted to ask me about?"

"Get out!" His frustration got the better of him

"Fine," she cried in defiance.

He watched her dash out of the room; it sounded like she was trying not to cry. She couldn't move fast enough and almost stumbled as her foot caught on the chair leg, but didn't fall. With unexpected strength for a woman her size, she flung open the door and slammed it shut, making a shudder through the walls.

An hour later. Time to think about what she had done. It had been quite heated earlier, and he needed time to collect himself. He had let himself become agitated by her and wasn't dealing with her properly. On some level, he felt a slight tinge of guilt. He'd been thinking of what to do after this. Perhaps too harsh. Her despair and outrage are… understandable. But she needs to learn that certain things must be adhered to.

He still needed some answers from her, and it would not hurt to try for some reconciliation. Because of the circumstances in which she had found out what he was, he knew she was primed to resent him; to regard him with contempt and hatred. Blood Bonds could compel loyalty certainly, but ghouls could be creatures of great passion, and this may lean more to hatred than to love. That could be dangerous - many hunters had their origins there. So he had to make amends somewhat.

Furthermore, in spite of the fortifying and loyalty instilling effects upon a mortal, some did not take to it so with such easy bliss. Some reacted with ill-feeling - sometimes like a milder version of that experienced in the first nights after the Embrace. He suspected this may be the case with her.

He had to smooth things over. Perform a measured dose of sympathy. Show her that he was not a complete monster, though she no doubt regarded him as one. But if she thought he was evil, well, she was very naive of how much worse others could be.

Knowing that she had returned to her apartment - he could sense her presence in that direction - he had followed her upstairs. Although he had a set of keys, he hadn't been to the second apartment in the building for some time; actually not at all since she had been staying there. No doubt this would surprise her now, and she would not believe it since her mind was probably full of all sorts of ideas and assumptions, not all of them unreasonable to be fair.

"Miss Siddall?" He asked at the door, knocking lightly on it.

No answer.

He could hear her heartbeat and could sense her presence inside, though wasn't sure of her precise position yet. It was after 1:00 am, so it was conceivable that she might have gone to bed but he doubted it.

A slight ruffling sound, then silence. Too much silence, like she was trying to stay perfectly still and quiet, though not quite successful given that she was alive. When he honed in on the sounds he could hear her breathe, however shallow she tried to make it. Heart-beating… slightly faster now - nervous? He was sure she was completely aware of him being here, but waiting for him to leave.

"Our meeting earlier… it was not as I intended and ended too abruptly. There is still much that must be covered, preferably now," he said, but reassuringly. If he had to, he could unlock the door, however, it appeared she left her key in the other side to prevent this possibility.

He remained quiet for a minute or so after that, to let her think he had gone because he was interested in what she would do if she believed that. Indeed, her presence seemed to have come closer to the door, probably to listen. "I know you are there," he said.

A floorboard creaked - she must have moved suddenly.

"Open the door," he instructed.

Something moved - it sounded like some piece of furniture pushed across the floor. The key turning in the door, and then it slowly opened only just ajar but no more. LaCroix immediately pushed it open fully, and strode into the room as soon as he had the opportunity. Miss Siddall was near one of the large armchairs from the lounge, but she had moved it from there.

"You don't mean to tell me that you made a barricade with that surely?" he eyed her and the chair, which she looked down at and up at him sheepishly. He remembered that Ms Bianchi had said that Miss Siddall had not let her in, so she must have started doing this regularly.

"Well, you can't blame me for doing it, can you?"

"I can see why you would think so. However, it is not necessary." He couldn't say that her doing this hurt him as such. It didn't bother him if she had a healthy respect for him - if that meant she was scared of him at least a little bit, so be it. But to be honest he didn't take complete pleasure in causing such terror. He'd much rather their interactions be reasonable, controlled, calm and any other positive synonym. Scaring her to death was counterproductive. "You will desist in this silly behaviour."

She looked a bit unsettled, "but it gives me peace of mind. I suppose I'll have to just sleep in the day time now…"

"Why? You think I will visit you here?"

She shrugged and put her hands on her hips dramatically, "well, I don't know? Why wouldn't you?"

"If it will appease you, I won't visit here again after this conversation, unless it is a necessity. But in that case, I will notify you."

She looked at him in disbelief, "I-I don't believe you."

"You have my word."

"But - you had those things from here? On the night when…"

"Ms Bianchi came in while you were out exploring and gave them to me. I haven't visited this apartment since you arrived."

"Um, okay," her voice sounded uncertain. Continuing to stand at one side of the chair, using it as a blockade. "For what it's worth, I still don't see why you wouldn't. But if you say so."

"Good. Now, let me in," he said referring to the chair which was still blocking the hallway.

"Ok," she sighed and folded her arms; looking quite cross. "But what do you want? Are you going to shout at me again?"

"As I remember, it was you who started shouting at me. I hoped to find you calm, now that you've had some time to think things over." He looked at her expectantly, until she pushed the chair back to its position in the lounge.

The room was dark, and he got the impression she'd switched off all the lights to hide. The bifold door through to the bedroom was open slightly ajar, giving a glimpse of the bed. The covers ruffled and thrown back suggesting that she must have have been in it. She still had that pullover dress on, but it looked like she'd just pulled it on over her nightdress. Considering her eccentric choice of clothes to explore his house a few nights ago, he presumed she had a penchant for loungewear. He was surprised she was at ease with this, given her general shyness suggested she was not a woman especially comfortable in displaying herself in revealing clothes.

"See it as you see it, you mean."

"Ah, I see you are still argumentative." He turned 180 degrees to her as soon as she spoke. "Well… I've had time to consider your actions earlier and, although you were disrespectful to me, I have taken into consideration the circumstances and will give you another chance. Do you have anything to say?"

"No," she replied tersely with resignation. "I'm sorry."

"Very good," LaCroix sat down on the best seat, although she did not join him straight away; lingering about at the other side of the chair, near the small kitchen area.

She got a glass of water before approaching. "I'd offer you a drink, but I imagine there's nothing you'd be interested," she joked as if humour was a way to cope; to diffuse her anxiousness. And she did appear more confident in that moment, though it faded a little into uncertainty, "well… I suppose there's something you might… but I-"

"Don't worry about that now," LaCroix interjected, sensing she might start rambling. "Let's concentrate on the matter at hand. Sit down." He wasn't thirsty at this moment, as he'd already fed. Not that he didn't think of it, but it was of secondary importance to what he needed to know, so the thought was only brief. "Now, I summoned you to my office for some information I need about you. This is important so that everything can run as smoothly and painlessly as possible. Firstly, why have you not informed anyone of your extended employment, as I instructed? You said you hadn't yet, and expressed several concerns in explanation for this, which I appreciate. However, the sooner it is done the better. Are there any impediments to this?"

"No, I suppose not," she shrugged and sat down on the chair opposite. "It's just… like I said - you're asking me to be dishonest. To make it sound like a good thing - but I don't see how it could be called that. First - you are keeping me under duress. Second - you want me to be subservient to you. It doesn't take a genius to guess why I might not be okay with that."

"You feel frightened and distrustful of me. Yes, I understand," he nodded. Still some resistance from her, meaning that the Blood Bond hadn't made her totally dote on him, which in certain ways a good thing, however, he did want some obedience at least. "And I'll allow a short period of time for you to acclimatise, all things considered. But you must - must adhere to what I tell you. Then it will all be perfectly reasonable."

She looked at him as if she was trying to figure him out. "You're just buttering me up now aren't you," she sighed, crossing her arms.

"Think what you will," he scowled a little. "You'll be well compensated as I've already explained."

"Material gain doesn't make up for everything you know," she sighed.

"No?" He found it hard to believe that she wouldn't be a least somewhat tempted. Most would.

"No. Not if I'm going to be mistreated and tormented all the time. Constantly threatened by you if I even say anything," She said forthrightly.

"I'm not keen on mistreating you for its own sake. I do not believe it to help manage my retainers. But, you weren't reasonable earlier either, and you should be punished. However, your uncertainty of the situation got the better of you, so I'll overlook it this time."

"I suppose so," she sighed, deciding it was for the best to go along with it, believing that he couldn't bear a difference of opinion.

"Anyway, what are your circumstances?"

She looked surprised at how quickly he had moved to another subject. "What do you mean?" She was just buying time; probably wondering how wise it was to open herself up, thinking him unlikely to be a friend to her.

"Family circumstances. Your parents?"

A pause. Amelia looked as if she was deciding what to tell him, "you don't need to worry. I've no ties or commitments."

"Why? Explain."

She sighed, picking at the woolly skirt of her knit dress. "We lost my mum several years ago," she looked plaintive.

A sad atmosphere. "Oh… I'm sorry for your loss," he struck a sympathetic tone. Whether he meant it or not was another matter. Since she was suspicious of him, it was doubtful she believed him.

"Thanks."

"And, your father?"

"I haven't seen much of him due to work," she said vaguely, which piqued his suspicion and curiosity.

"What type of work?"

She shrugged, "security. I don't know much about it though. Sometimes he was away a lot."

"'Was'?" LaCroix pressed her.

"Well, I haven't seen him in… over a year. Some type of work contract. I don't know. To be honest, I-I was - and am still concerned because of not hearing anything," she admitted, but putting a guarded, diplomatic sheen on it; not wanting to be too familiar with him.

"Hmmm," LaCroix wrote down some notes, "I see." This may be something that warranted more attention at some point, but he'd not press it for now. Tragic, but it was more convenient for him. He could see Amelia lean forward a little, peering at what he was doing. He ignored this and continued his questioning. "Had he always worked in that field? If not, had he a military background perhaps?"

"Um, no," Amelia said but didn't elaborate further. "Why do you ask that?"

"It's not significant," he dismissed, "but a reasonable assumption - security and intelligence work often go with military and defence sectors."

"Yes, I see what you mean," she appeared to think as if there was more that could be expanded upon, but deciding whether to do so or not. LaCroix paused, looking at her to prompt a further answer. "No, he had manual jobs before that - um, in mining and steel manufacture," she smiled forthrightly, as if aware of the lower class connotation; taking it with pride, but wondering how this fact would be received by him.

That makes sense, LaCroix thought. Miss Siddall was an intelligent, accomplished, well-spoken young woman, bearing little of the ill-bred traits of the lower classes. However, there were small things that indicated to him that she wasn't from privilege. How she expressed and carried herself; what she appeared accustomed to, all was subtly clear to him after interacting with her for a while. That she was proletariat derived explained this for him. But she did put on a good show.

"I see," he showed no reaction, sure that she would be sensitive to perceived inferiority. "Have you any siblings?"

"No. Just me."

"Close friends?"

"Not really. I mean, I've got some friends yes. But, I suppose they're just acquaintances. With the distance, those at home and that I met at university in London will probably move on to other things; live their own lives as people do. I made some friends here while I was an exchange student. In fact, some are still studying, so I was in touch with them a bit. Some might ask how I'm doing, I guess, since they're in the same field, but probably won't look any deeper once I say I have a job." She smiled wryly, "so, I can't think of anyone who would set up a search party to save me from you if that's what you're concerned with."

"Perhaps but one can never be complacent," he replied while writing a note. "But I can believe you. Friendships tend to be circumstantial, and therefore drift apart naturally. You can count very few that can be relied upon in life."

Seeming comforted by this small flash of friendly advice she smiled, "and in Unlife too, I'm sure."

"Even more true in fact," he said with a tone of cynicism. But soon put that aside, not wanting to give her too much familiarity. "With that in mind - another thing to ask. Are you in a relationship?"

"No," she said in a drawn-out way; looking at him in surprise that he'd ask this.

"Any prospects of one?" he probed.

"Not that I know of," she lightly scowled; taken aback at him asking this. "Why are you writing this down?" she asked that he made a note of her answers.

"Because I want to," he looked at her haughtily. "Now, as this position was temporary - have you made any other employment arrangements?"

"No," she shook her head. "Well, I had made some applications... but I've not had any offers yet, so no."

"Just as well." He wondered, what applications had she made? But that's a question to ask some other time. For now, such details were not the main thing on his mind. "You will need to withdraw from what application processes you have begun since it's no longer necessary."

"Ok," she said dejectedly.

"So… you effectively have no ties. But you said there was someone you needed to tell? You mentioned your Aunt - how close are you?"

"Well, she's my mum's half-sister. Same father. When I was younger I didn't get to know her much to be honest. I suppose my grandma and her father were estranged you know because they were divorced. They were more affluent than us. After my mum… I got to know her a bit more. And er, after my dad seemed to drop off the face of the earth, she helped me with what to do with jobs - suggested to me to do my master's degree. She was a teacher and then a librarian at a university library you see."

''So, she knows about you taking this employment contract here?" He asked and Amelia nodded. "Are you're in regular contact?"

"Emails mostly. Sometimes telephone."

"Have you told her anything about the details of your employment here, or about my person?" LaCroix felt the need to ask.

"No, just vaguely the material I'm working on, but not in detail. And also no - I haven't described you or my suspicions about you - I'm not that stupid you know," she teased.

"Well, you can tell her that you were offered a permanent position at the Los Angeles offices, which are being expanded and redeveloped, and you have chosen to accept. That should be believable. I'll give you until the end of the week."

"Ok," she seemed resigned to going along with what he said.

"Now, that is all I wanted to ask you. I'll expect you attending to your work again tomorrow. I'd like your original assignment complete by the end of the month - which gives you two weeks," he smiled smugly, knowing that this would be a tight deadline. "After that, there's another task I want you to do before we leave here." he looked as if he was about to leave.

"Ok, but I have some questions too," she put her glass down on the coffee table.

"Yes," he sighed heavily, "what would you like to know?"

"Will I be allowed to go to the training course again next weekend?" she asked shyly.

"We'll see," LaCroix replied, a slightly mean smile crossing his face. "If you work well the rest of the week, perhaps. But you'll be escorted directly there and back. No time to wander. I don't want you meeting someone like before again."

"Okay." She bit her lip, "also, um, when I found out about you the other night. Did you leave that glass of blood for me to find?"

"Yes," haven't I explained this before? "I suspected you had become suspicious. Then there was the evidence of your research and the rosary and address found here. So I left a clue you would certainly find and couldn't fail to realise the significance of."

"What about the reason for employing me in the first place - it was because of what I saw, wasn't it? Outside at the New York Public Library - that was another vampire drinking blood from a person, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Perhaps now was a good time to give her a simple overview of the state of things. "There are several factions within Kindred society - and not on good terms with one another. The one you saw belonged to the Sabbat - they are antithetical to the Camarilla - the sect to which I belong. To keep it very simple, they are particularly nefarious and given to glutinous savagery. So you should think yourself lucky that I came across you first otherwise… well," he paused to dramatic effect, "it is best not to think about what they would have done to you."

"Ok," she looked at him wide-eyed. "You said 'belonged' - past tense?"

"Yes. As I'm sure it will hearten you to know, that individual was destroyed, along with the others. A ragtag bunch; no serious threat, but destructive in spite of their often short shelf-life."

"Oh that's good," she seemed visibly happier to know this. "Also, um," she fidgeted, "before I found the glass the other night, I saw you -"

"You saw me feeding," he admitted. There was no point in hiding this; it was better to normalise the concept to her. "Normally, that is something I'd take precautions to ensure that you never witnessed, since discretion is most important. However, as you were already becoming aware, I allowed it."

"So… they're alright then? The person you were..." she grimaced, the idea of him drinking blood still clearly disturbing.

"Yes. It isn't necessary to completely drain someone. I've fed from that individual before. You see, I'm Ventrue - one of several bloodlines." Seeing her look at him in wonder at this he remembered that she didn't know anything yet. "You'll be informed about that some other time, as no doubt you'll encounter others sooner or later. Anway, Ventrue can only feed on select people - which varies for each individual. Therefore, it's preferable to maintain a reliable selection of suitable vessels - and not to kill them since our taste is rarefied and supply is finite. So yes, that person is completely fine. Do you understand?"

She drank a sip of water, "yes, I can see your logic. Um, so what about the other thing you did? You gave me… your blood," she said at length, as if not wholly accepting of the fact. "What does that mean? You said that it wouldn't turn me into a vampire, so what does this make me?"

"Turning another into a 'vampire' is more specific process, called the Embrace, although it too involves the consumption of Kindred Vitae - vampire blood," he explained. "But you don't need to know too much about that now. In your case, no you are not a vampire. You are technically still human, and still mortal - but 'enhanced', you might say. I am your Domitor; you are by vassal - a servant." He left out the more unflattering name "ghoul" for now since it would be unwelcome to her, and was not a polite term anyway.

"Hmm, ok," she looked dejected. She seemed independent-minded and therefore was not at all fond of the idea of being servile. Which made sense since she had a working-class background, but had ambitions beyond that. "But I feel… kind of weird though."

"That's normal. I suppose this is why you haven't wanted to come out of here yet?" she nodded in reponse. "Yes. Well, you may feel a little - unusual at first, due to the supernatural effects."

"Supernatural effects?" She looked at him, slightly in awe. "Oh, that explains it," she said as if something had been puzzling her the last few days.

"What?"

"Oh, well it's just I've felt… different. Physically. Stronger than I'm used to… and also my senses seem… better. I could hear Leticia's footsteps from the other side of the corridor, which I thought was really weird."

"Yes," He warned, "however, these effects are only temporary, and will fade without a regular supply of my blood."

Miss Siddall didn't say anything for a while. And LaCroix believed that she was ill at ease with the idea of drinking his blood - never mind the possibility of him drinking hers. On the whole, however, LaCroix found this sober reaction of hers a positive - it was better if she didn't become overly enthusiastic straight away. Of course, it did give him a hold over her, but he wanted her to be able to work, not waste time constantly pestering him.

"Well, that is all for now -" he rose to leave.

"But I had other questions-" Amelia protested. In spite of still being wary of him, a part of her appeared to want him to stay a little bit longer.

"They'll be another opportunity. Good evening." He could feel her eyes on him, watching him leave.