Chapter 19 – Meeting the Primogen

September 29, 2004 = Wednesday

The taxi was actually very prompt, needing only a few minutes to pick me up, and soon had me at Lacroix tower. I wasn't paying much attention, and was surprised when a redhead in a yellow t-shirt and glasses walked up to me, physically blocking my path.

"Hey," she shouted, smiling as I stopped to avoid ramming into her. "I know this might seem creepy and all, but please don't blow me off. Somehow I knew I could find you here, I mean, I've been looking all over for you since I got out of the hospital, because I wanted to, uh, I'm in your debt. I owe you my life, and I feel like I need to repay you."

Recognition lit through my brain. Poe had finally found me. "Nice to see you again Poe."

The redhead blushed at that. "It's Heather, please. I'm not weirding you out, or anything, am I?"

"That's hard to do lately," I said, smiling back at her. She was as tall as me, though without the heels in her plain sneakers and blue jeans, but she was beautiful, in her own way. "You look much better, I'm glad to see it."

"Only because of you, and what you did for me," she said, again that sheepish nature of hers making her blush, running a hand through the hair over her ear nervously. "Here, I got you this," she said, handing me a ring box. I took it, finding a gold ring inside. Actually that was an understatement. The setting was like nothing I'd ever seen before. There was a gold ring, but on top, instead of a diamond setting, or other precious stone, there was an arrangement of rubies set in gold to simulate a rose. It was beautiful, and I carefully took it out of the box and slipped it on my left hand to help balance out my jewelry. I had my bracelet on the right, and earrings in both ears, but nothing on my left.

"I thought you might like it," she continued, as I continued to examine the new ring. "I can be useful to you, I'd do anything," she paused, wrapping her arms around her middle as she looked at the ground. "Just tell me you'll let me help you, let me stay with you. Make me feel this way."

That last line snapped my head up, even though Heather wasn't looking at me. Was she in love with me? O-kay, that was a new one. Brian never mentioned any feelings like that, so I wondered briefly if it were feelings of love, or if it were associated with her being my ghoul. I'd have to wonder about that later, though, as I wanted to get inside and meet with Strauss before I met the rest of the primogen. "Of course, Heather," I said, wrapping an arm around the sheepish woman. "I'd love for you to stay with me. I'm trying to find a new place right now, so it might get a little cramped in my one room apartment."

"Yeah," she said, leaning into me and putting her own arm around me. "I went by earlier. You're really loud when you do it, you know?

I shook my head, thinking Brian must've gotten lucky when Angel came back for her fix and her gun. "That wasn't me, and Brian isn't my boyfriend. That's one of the reasons I want a bigger place. One that can fit us all."

"Really?" she exclaimed, hugging me tight enough that a foot came off the pavement. "I promise you won't regret it! Promise! I'll get you money, things...everything! I want to be important to you. I can even make you dresses like that if you want. I went to college to study fashion design, so I can make you stunning clothes like that without having to buy from an overrated line."

This was getting better and better. "Just tell Brian you're to wait on me, and that I'll be back at sunrise."

Heather released me, beaming as she smiled from ear to ear. "I'll wait for you at your place then. And when you do come back, I'll take care of whatever you want."

"I'm looking forward to it Heather," I said, as Heather began bopping down the sidewalk. Well, at least she was now accounted for, so I could get that off my mind. I walked inside and groaned. That overweight guard was sitting behind the front desk as if it were his personal mission to ruin my nights.

"Evening, missy," he said as I approached. "You here to see Mister Lacroix again?"

"Yes, I am," I replied, as I looked at my dress to make sure it was still perfect.

"Yea, he told me to send you up as soon as you came in. Lotsa people here to see him. Nice guy, seems a little different though. But that's his business."

"Well, I'd stay and chat, but I have reports to file, Chunk" I said, reading his name tag for a name, before I headed around the reception area to the elevators. The elevator was waiting when I got there, and I headed up to the upper floors. Stepping out into the Camarilla headquarters, Scourge Walsh glanced towards me before quickly stepping over to greet me.

"Greetings, miss," he said, bowing slightly in front of me. "Are you here to announce yourself to the prince?"

"No, but I do have his report on what happened at the Dane," I said, enjoying the fact that I was dolled up enough to not be entirely recognizable. Watching his face as he realized who I was was interesting. The shock value alone was worth it.

"Miss Flores? I must say you surprise me with your transformation, and such finery. I wouldn't think you would have invested in this for some time."

"I acquired this after clearing out a masquerade breaker's hotel room. She was spreading a supernatural disease and attracting attention."

He looked concerned at that. "Supernatural?"

"It can kill a ghoul," I informed him.

"This is, not good," he said, his face showing the worry he felt. "I thought it was just a normal disease, and you say it can kill a ghoul? Do you have proof?"

"Ghoul's name was Paul, lived in Skyline Apartments. I don't know who his master is, an Anarch I think, but he succumbed to his death before the person who infected him did. I tracked it back to a Jezebel Locke, who was staying at Empire Arms Hotel. After I killed her, I took everything she had, this was part of it."

"Thank you," he said. He seemed hesitant, then continued. "As compensation for dealing with this serious threat to the masquerade, I'll make sure you receive a large bonus for handling the situation, as well as keeping her pilfered belongings. I honestly did not think you would be so beneficial so soon. Have you found a place to stay yet?"

"No, I'd thought about sending my ghouls out to do some house hunting in the morning. We're getting too cramped in the apartment."

"How much do you have to start your loan with?"

"I can put five grand on the down payment with no problem. Though if I need to, I can use up to eight grand," I told him, and he spun to face me.

"Eight grand? What did you do? Rob a bank?!"

"Just my normal day to day running," I told him, though something in me sang at seeing him slack jawed.

"Eight grand?" he said, leaning against the wall, his eyes glassed over as he thought about it. "It took me over a year to earn eight grand. At least that was in 1861, we did have a war on."

"The Civil War?" I asked, and he nodded and added, "Back when a nickel bought an entire meal, and a man's wages wasn't five dollars for a month. He makes that now in an hour."

"Time flies, huh?" I snarked, as the man composed himself.

"Use your wealth, wisely, young one. A time will come when your wealth will be one of the few things you have. When you leave your meeting with the prince and the primogen, my ghoul will be waiting for you. She'll have a packet listing some of the homes I have available in the LA area for sale and lease, along with cars and other services the I can offer."

"Thank you," I said, as he led the way to where our presumed meeting was to take place. He opened a door allowing me through before shutting it, and inside were six people. Strauss was the only one I recognized as he stood talking with a well dressed man in a suit. A gorgeous woman in a gold sequined dress with her hair up stood to the side, her eyes staring at a large painting on the wall. It was of a forested mountain looming over a beautiful lake, and looked good enough to be real.

On the other side, three men stood talking, one looking like a heartthrob from the thirties in a tuxedo. The other men were much rougher, the one on my left had blonde hair and was dressed like a biker sans shirt, chains hanging from his belt to loop around his back. The other seemed hunched over in his dirt caked jeans and denim coat, with yellow animal-like eyes that seemed to bore through me. His hair seemed to be matted, and he was by far the dirtiest one in the room.

"Ah, Miss Flores," Strauss said, coming to talk to me, bringing the man he was talking to with him. Strauss was dressed in a crimson vest while the other man was dressed in nice suit with some kind of neckerchief around his collar, and his shoes were mirror finished black leather. "This is the Ventrue primogen, Herr Mueller."

"Guten tag, Herr Mueller," I said, extending my hand and trying to remember as much German as I could while hoping he wasn't Swedish.

"Gute nacht, fraulein," he said with a thick German accent, taking my hand in his and kissing it like a gentleman of old. "I see you have been busy these past few nights."

"Miss Flores has done well, considering she was only Sired a few nights ago and left alone on her own without aid," Strauss said, coming to my aide.

"Indeed," he said as he seemed to look me over without moving his eyes from mine. I couldn't help but feel as if I were being weighed and measured in that moment. In embarrassment, I looked away, my eyes going back to the woman looking at the painting. She hadn't moved at all, though the rest of the room seemed to have noticed me by now. Remembering what Damsel told me about Toreadors becoming enthralled by beauty, I walked over to her. She never noticed me at all, and I raised my braceleted wrist to block her view. I thought at first she wasn't going to come out of her enthrallment, when she raised her hands to grab my wrist, as she twisted it in the light.

"Moissanite," she whispered, her accent hinting at French as she examined it carefully. "I would say Grace has done herself proud with this."

"Thank you," I said, as she released my wrist, before she looked me over. I was trying to figure out what she meant, but it was beyond me. "Moissanite is a fake diamond, I take it?"

"Yes, but it has a very colorful sparkle. It's usually the best substitute for the real thing, and Sheila does wonders with it. You simply must stop by her store sometime. It is Forever Finery, on Rodeo Drive," she purred, before noticing my ring. "Oh, how lovely," she gasped, and I raised it so she could see it. She again took my hand, twisting it so she could see it in the light. "That, at least, is a real ruby. But the gold is tainted. Fourteen karat at most."

"I wish I were better at identifying the knock-offs from the real thing," I intimated, even as she continued to fawn over my ring.

"Do not worry yourself so much with it. Last time I went shopping for diamonds, I could not find a real one in the entire store, and the gold was all plated," she said, shaking her head lightly so as not disturb her hair, as she lowered my hand and wrapped an arm around me. I'd get offended by the personal invasion, but, as Damsel said, it was just the Toreador way.

With her arm around me, she led me to the kindred in a tux, the biker, and the man desperately in need of a bath. Even Michele wrinkled her nose at the odor. "Dusty, are you ever going to rid us of your odiferous aroma?" she chastised the kindred.

"Then I wouldn't be Dusty the Bold anymore, would I?" he retorted. I'd personally settle for a little less stench, but as I was now close close enough to get a good look at him, I realized his hair was different. It looked like it had been greased, but it lacked the shiny nature associated with it. I could also tell this close that the hair seemed thicker on his arms than normal, but I wondered if it were an old kindred male thing, or maybe something associated with his clan. The hunch look also became apparent, as it was a hump between his shoulder blades. What was he turning into? A grizzly?

"No," said blonde biker next to him. "You'd be more bearable to be around," he said, laughing.

"Always with the bear jokes," Dusty grumbled.

"Well, it helps that you resemble one so much," biker replied, still laughing.

"Boys," Michele interceded, trying to stop the fight before it could begin, because even I saw Dusty's fingers turn into claws. "This is Eliza Flores, the one Strauss wants to add to our council to represent the Lasombra now that we have one in our city."

"Lasombra," the tuxedo clad man said, his voice deep and dripping with sex like honey. "It's not unusual to see their antitribu in the Camarilla. What is unusual is to see them last."

"It's becoming more common to see them, as things in the Sabbat fall apart," biker boy stated. "Heard there's some sort of problem their having with the Tzmisce. And you do know one is prince of Washington DC, now."

"That's propaganda," tuxedo said, "Don't believe everything you hear Scott. We Nosferatu have been spreading those rumors for years."

"Speaking of rumors, Gary," Michele interjected, stopping another argument from forming, "Have you heard whether or not Isaac managed to acquire a new actress for his recent project?"

"Not yet, cupcake. Though to be honest, he hasn't been hosting any casting calls recently," Gary replied, as he opened a nearby cabinet door to reveal rows of blood packs. "Tell me, Miss Flores, are you hungry?"

"I could use a good neck to bite," I stated, earning a smile from Dusty, and a guffaw from Scott, the biker. Even Michele seemed to vibrate as she snickered.

"Sorry, we quit keeping kine around for drinking purposes the better part of a century ago," Gary said, as he retrieved several bags and distributed them to the group.

"Drink up, kid," Scott said, smiling as he took his. "Lacroix goes all out. If I'm not mistaken, it's virgin."

"Scott!" Michele exclaimed in mock protest, and I could tell it was mock as she was laughing so hard she really was vibrating, and it made me feel loved. They were joking with me, making me part of the group.

"What? Eighteen is a good year for virgins," he said, biting on a corner and deflating the bag as he sipped it clear. "Ooh, it goes down so nice." Michele sipped hers, and Gary quickly pulled a second for himself, putting one in his tuxedo jacket.

"For keeping up appearances, fledgling," he said, as he and Dusty sipped on theirs. I looked at it again, wondering what the trick was then figured I'd try to snag it with a fang. Extending my fangs, I slipped the plastic into my mouth and bit lightly, and I could feel my teeth pierce the plastic. Then I began sipping the blood out, and it was heaven as it went down my throat. Only Dusty seemed to be disappointed.

"Eighteen is good, but I miss the thirteen," he said, grimacing at something unpleasant only he could see as he drank his.

"It became socially unacceptable, Dusty," Michele offered, looking sadly down at her expensive shoes.

To soften the mood, I decided to ask Gary a question. "Why do you need it for keeping up appearances?"

"I'm a Nosferatu. You've met Tung in Santa Monica, and all the Nosferatu are similar in appearance to him."

"In exchange for him assuming a pleasing appearance, the Prince provides us all with blood. It works best for everyone, especially Gary."

"Rat gets old after the first thousand," he said smiling, and Michele shivered. "That's another thing that's not 'socially acceptable.'"

Before things could resume, the doors opened and the prince entered, the exceedingly tall sheriff right behind him as always. With his arrival, everyone went to take seats. Michele led me over to where Strauss and Herr Mueller sat, while Dusty, Scott, and Gary took the other side. Then the prince took up a small silver striker, and rang the shiny golden bell on the table.

"As prince, I call this meeting to order," he said, taking his seat at the head of the table.

"We are short one person," Michele said, her eyes going across from us to the empty seat.

"Has anyone heard from Doctor Grout?" the prince asked the group at large.

"Nein," Herr Mueller said from where he sat by the prince. "Though he was acting odd at our last meeting."

"Maybe he's finally went insane after a hundred years," Scott said.

"Or maybe something else has happened. But what could go after an ancillae Malkavian?" Michele offered.

"I'll send an agent tomorrow night to check on him. Will that be satisfactory?" Prince Lacroix asked the group.

"That would be helpful," Strauss said. "They can then report to you and we will discuss this topic again at our next meeting."

"Which brings us to the matter at hand. I understand that you wish to add a Lasombra representative to the council?"

"As a recognized member of the Camarilla, and a clan currently unrepresented by those present, I feel she does have the right to have her clan's say in these matters," Strauss argued to the group.

"But it's just her," Scott argued back. "There's no clan yet."

"I must second the Brujah representative," Herr Mueller stated. "One person does not a clan make."

"All those in favor?" the prince asked. Michele, Strauss and Dusty raised their hands. "Those opposed?" Gary, Herr Mueller and Scott raised theirs. "As we seem to be tied, and under rules granted and approved by this council previously, I will vote to break the tie. My vote is no. This is not any reflection against you, neonate. But as Primogen Scott and Herr Mueller pointed out, there's no clan to represent, and one person does not a clan make. Maybe once you reach say, five Lasombra, through either embrace or immigration, we will revisit this matter.

"Now, to further speed along your night, and to streamline matters. Why don't you present us with your findings on the Elizabeth Dane?"

I nodded to him, and stood, going over to my bag to get the reports and documents I had acquired. "According to the report I read on the way here, the fate of the crew has been decided. They were slaughtered aboard the ship. The walls in some areas were painted with blood. Bloody handprints on the sarcophagus itself indicate it was opened at some point from within."

"Within?" Michele whispered, and repeated by everyone at the table.

"Let's not get over-excited over nothing. Leave the reports on the table, and I'll look over them later. As you are becoming indispensable to me at the moment, and as you are so wont to prove yourself, head to Grout's mansion in San Bernardino. Pry him out from whatever rock he's hidden himself under then, check back with me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," I said, pulling the reports and everything he'd need and placed them on the table. It significantly reduced my load, and I hung my bag over my nearly bare shoulder. I left the room to find a woman in a dark gray blazer with light pink shirt. She held a professional leather binder, that was about three inches thick.

"Miss Flores?" she asked, as I came close to where she stood.

"Yes?" I asked, figuring this was Walsh's ghoul.

"My master wishes you to have this binder. I just updated it, as we have recently acquired several properties in the Ontario area, and one in Beverly Hills. Half of all pictures of the home shown are in midday, and the other half are night. All listings show both retail and lease information. The car leases come with an optional maintenance plan, and all other services are as listed. Oh, and your payment for your assistance in keeping the masquerade is inside. All cash. Any questions, my business card is on the inside cover. Just ask for Rochelle."

"Thank you, Rochelle," I said, pulling two grand in fresh filing the binder in my bag. The thing was heavy, and definitely not something I wanted to carry around. Rochelle then walked away, and I headed back to the elevator. I was able to quickly get the ground floor, and get a cab back to the Last Round. I had the driver wait, while I went in to get my case.

"Cammie," Damsel said as I entered the bar. My recently acquired travel case was right beside her.

"Damsel," I said smiling back at her. "Well you were right about Michele, absolutely stunning."

"Told ya," she said, smiling back at me. "So how'd it go?"

"A Doctor Grout was missing, so the prince got the tie breaker," I told her. "He said that without more members of my clan, there's no clan to represent. So I was denied."

"Figures. I was hoping you'd get on there precious counsel. Oh well Cammie. We tried," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Keep your eyes out for more plaguebearers though. Skelter dusted another one an hour ago."

"Great," I said, no enthusiasm at all in my word. Jezebel was hard enough to take, the next one might not be so easy.

"Well, here's your bag," she said, handing me my case. "Did Michele at least like your fancy jewelry?"

"Yes, though she said it was moissanite and not real diamonds. She did like it though."

"That's all that matters. Think all mine is cubic zirconia." she said as we walked to the door.

"I'll get on the case of those other plaguebearers when I find Grout. He wasn't at the meeting. Herr Mueller said he was acting strange last week, and Scott thought he might have went nuts."

"Grout? Don't know much about him except he's like the most sane malk you'll ever meet."

"He's not nuts? I thought you said they were all nuts."

"They are, except for him. He's supposed to be so sane that they couldn't hardly tell what clan he was until another Malk pointed it out. Be careful, Cammie. If Grout went nuts, there's no telling what he might or might not have done, or will do. Malks can and will pass on their insanity to others, even make you see things that aren't there. One Malk and I got into it once, and for the rest of the night I had to be watched because I thought I was back in high school. Even tried eating and couldn't understand why it made me sick."

"I'll be careful, Damsel, and thanks for warning me." She was way too close, with absolutely no space between us. I couldn't help but try to picture the tart redhead in a fancy gown, but it was too alien a concept. The moment seemed to stretch as we stared into each others eyes, but it was finally me that broke eye contact. "I think I need to go. I have a long way to go and the sun will be up soon."

"Yeah, you better get going Cammie," she said, her voice sad as I walked down to the waiting cab. I didn't look back as we drove away, but I wanted to. As much as I liked Damsel, I wasn't sure if I felt that way about her. I couldn't but feel awkward about such thoughts, when before Simeon I wouldn't have thought about women at all. I was raised Catholic and to like boys. But since Simeon had done what he did to me, I couldn't think that way about men at all.

But ever since, I was finding myself more and more attracted to other girls. I didn't know why this attraction started, or if it would go away. I didn't even know if it were real or not, or how to make it go away. And Damsel? I didn't want to hurt her. She was too good for that. Though as I thought about Damsel, I suddenly realized I did care for her. At least my inner beast hadn't ruined that. But had I ruined it with the way I left?

I continued to contemplate it the entire ride home, even as it got bright outside. I kept hoping we'd make it to the apartment before the sun rose, but with miles left to go through the thick morning traffic, I felt the now familiar drain as the sun rose above the horizon. Panic filled me, as I knew Brian and Heather wouldn't know to be watching for me, and the cabbie couldn't know that I was kindred.

I ducked down into the seat, feigning that I was just sick. I tuned the cabbie and his complaints about puking in his car out as I dealt with staying awake. Soon, the cabbie announced we had arrived, and I flinched at the brightness around me. It was giving me an excruciating headache. I handed the cabbie my card, flinching at the pain of sunlight hitting my hand. I made sure to keep my hand out of the sunlight as I took my card back.

"Can you pull off into the alley a bit? I don't want sunlight to ruin my fair complexion," I lied. The cabbie grunted, but I felt the cab shift as he pulled over the curb. "Thanks amigo," I whispered, carefully lifting myself out of the cab to keep myself in the shadows. Grabbing my bags, I started to stagger down the alleyway to the door that led upstairs, thankful the building itself blocked the light.

Damsel wasn't lying when she said we couldn't stay awake during the day. Even this little bit was brutal. I finally staggered to the apartment door, just in time to see it open as Constance was getting ready to leave. "Mistress!" she shouted, rushing forward to help me inside. Brian and Heather were there in a heartbeat, with Brian getting under my other shoulder and physically carrying me while Heather picked up my feet and dress. Inside, Brian began barking orders to shut the blinds.

"Get me out of this dress," I said, but I think in my tired state I was slurring my words. Heather seemed to catch the idea, and soon she was stripping me out of my dress. Stripped of my dress and jewelry, Brian picked me and carried me into the bathroom, and I could feel the small beams of light that seeped past the blinds as they raked across my skin. I was so tired though that all I could do was whimper, even as Brian settled me onto my pallet in the shower stall. Settled in and secure, I let myself drift into the abyss of sleep.