Ten thirty. The bitch was late. Spencer glared at the clock sitting on his desk.
"She said she'd be here, correct?"
He glanced at his elder. "She's half an hour late."
Briggs shrugged. "Yes, and she can explain that when she arrives…which should be any minute now. I've summoned her, since your agreement was obviously not enough to secure her attendance. There will be no need of the stake, either."
The younger of the two kindred scowled. The elder gave him an amused look. Then, a knock sounded.
"Come in," Spencer called out.
The door opened and the woman they'd been waiting for entered. She gave Spencer a smile and paused, seeing Henry Briggs there as well.
"Strategoi…I did not know you would be here," she spoke softly, bowing her head in a measure of respect.
"Your Praetor and I were just discussing something interesting, girl. Something I'd like to now discuss with you in private."
"Of course, sir."
Briggs then simply nodded to Spencer, who quickly left the room. Alice moved to the chair across from her elder and sat gracefully. She had just settled into the chair when, before she could register his movement, the Strategoi struck her. Hard. She fell back into the seat, instinctively bringing a hand to her jaw. She glanced up at him, too shocked to ask why. He placed a hand on either arm of the chair and leaned in, his face inches from hers.
"You're going to listen to me, Alice. I've been watching you. Despite what you may think, I really don't give a shit that you're fucking a Brujah. Carthage was before my time, too. What does bother me is you using your clanmates to further your own petty little causes."
"But I—"
"Silence."
She became quiet, her will not strong enough to disobey.
"I don't care how stupid Spencer is. I don't care what he does in his private hours—and yes, I know what he does in that time. He is your Praetor, girl. You will follow his leadership. You will respect his position."
Alice filled her eyes with crimson tears. Her expression was one of pure innocence. Always a good actress, she stuttered slightly as she formed her reply. "B-but I…I didn't do anything…"
"Anything, Alice? I'm finding it hard to believe you."
"What is he accusing me of? Do I even get to know that?"
"You used influence to rid yourself of the Brujah Primogen. And then blamed him for it."
"Read my aura, sir. I didn't do that."
Briggs frowned slightly, realizing that her answer was truth. "One of you is lying to me. I want to know who."
"I don't have the proper influence to 'rid myself' of Carrie…"
"So what are you saying?"
She opened her mouth to tell him half the truth again, but felt herself compelled to tell him the entire story.
"I…I know Spencer's secrets, sir, and I used them against him. So he would use his influence to chase that bitch out of the domain. She was a thorn in my side. With her gone, I have control of the Council. Our clan has control of the Council. I didn't think they'd be able to trace his influence…or I wouldn't have asked him to do it."
He seemed surprised to hear the whole story. "And can you fix it?"
"I can make Andrew forget that he knows…but I don't know who else…"
He nodded slightly. "Do that. Plant it in his head that the Toreador are responsible. They're planning a Praxis anyway, from what I've heard. They can take the fall for us."
"Yes. Of course."
"Now," he stood, keeping his eyes down on her, "for your punishment…"
Her eyes widened as she saw him loosening his belt and she scrambled out of the chair and rushed for the door. He was, of course, much faster, and easily caught her. He threw her across the room and she hit the wall.
"It's either this or a year in a box, Alice. Take your pick." He crossed the floor to stand in front of her.
"Fuck you," she practically hissed.
"That was the plan."
Her eyes fixed on his with a steady glare. She couldn't afford to spend a year in torpor. She didn't particularly want to sleep with Briggs, either…she'd heard stories. He was a sadistic bastard if the rumors were true at all. Not saying a word, she unbuttoned her jacket and shifted so it would slide from her shoulders, landing in a pool of fabric on the floor. Her fingers moved to her shirt and unbuttoned the blue cotton. Her pale skin beneath was a stark contrast to the red bra. She felt his hands slide under her skirt and rip away her matching panties. She began to take her blouse off the rest of the way, but he stopped her.
"No, leave it on."
She shifted slightly, no longer meeting his eyes. Uncomfortable and angry. He chuckled as he finished undoing his pants—button, zipper. He pushed them down over his hips. He wasn't wearing anything underneath; he had, after all, been planning this. He pressed her into the wall, mentally directing his blood to a central location.
"Use your blood." He ordered
"I'd rather not."
He struck her with alarming force and she stumbled to the side.
"Don't talk back to me, you stupid slut. Do it."
She turned, raising her hand to slap him. Being the faster of the two, he caught her wrist and spun her around, tossing her easily onto the floor. He was quickly on top of her, pinning either arm to the hardwood floor. He caught her eye.
"Use. Your. Blood."
Alice felt her body respond without her intending to. She gave up the struggle—it was no use anymore. Just after she felt him enter her, she felt his fangs sink into the flesh of her neck and then the ecstasy of the Kiss filled her entire being. A low moan of pleasure escaped her parted lips, and Henry let go of her wrists, letting his cool hands explore her body. She took the opportunity to shove him away from her. He snarled and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her to the desk. He threw on it face-first and twisted her arms behind her back, holding them in place with one hand.
"It's this or a year in a box," he reminded her, whispering in her ear with a malicious grin. "Not that, of course, I mind your struggling. I actually quite enjoy it."
He pushed his legs between hers and used his free hand to pull her skirt up to her hips. With a potent trust, he forced his cold hard flesh inside of her. She screamed, unprepared for the searing pain. He kept a steady superhuman strength and speed, the wood of the desk creaking beneath the might of his movements. He managed to maneuver his face to a bare shoulder and bit down hard, eliciting another shriek from her. One that turned into a subtle gasp as the unwanted pleasure took control of her body.
"Good…you might as well enjoy it," he grunted. "It's all you're good for anyway."
After nearly two hours of alternating pain and ecstasy, Alice was allowed to gather her clothes and leave. She noticed, on her way to the door, that Briggs was tying a knot in a length of string that he'd taken out of his pocket. She shrugged it off and quickly made her way out of the room, not saying a word as she passed Spencer.