OOC: BIG thanks and hugs to Lady Tremere for her reviews and advice.
And now on with the story…
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >Primogen Kevin Peters of the clan of the Rose glanced around cautiously before stepping out of his car. He quickly approached the building in front of him, disappearing into the shadows provided by the deserted factory. He closed the door behind him and made his way through the twists and turns in the labyrinth of old, rusted machinery to the clearing in the middle. The Lasombra was waiting.
"The attack failed," the Armani-clad monster spoke, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the night air.
Peters noticed the cigarette burning in his ally's left hand. "So I heard. A pity. I'm assuming you've heard of the praxis rumors?"
"Yes, of course. You need to get involved. Join the traitors. Get rid of Cantley and his supporters to make way for the true children of Caine."
"I'll do my best."
"Your best had better be good enough, Kevin."
He nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now get back before they start asking questions."
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Martin James lifted his head and looked at the people sitting on the other side of his rosewood desk. The elder of the two, the woman, had striking Nordic features—pale skin, an angular face, and beautiful blonde hair. Her childe was the exact opposite. A very round young man, Harper had dark hair and eyes. Germanic descent, no doubt. It didn't matter much to the Elder at any rate. All he truly cared about was their loyalty to him and to the clan, and how useful they would be in his plans. Thus far, they had managed to obtain for him two of the opposing team—the Keeper and the Sheriff: two precious gems he was keeping under lock and key.
"I will try for Seneschal next, sir?"
He blinked, his thoughts coming back to the reality he was sitting in. "No, my dear, that is not a good idea. He's a Nosferatu. You won't be able to find him."
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Very well, Guildlord."
He was about to dismiss them when the door was thrown open and a ghouled servant rushed in.
"What is the meaning of this?" Martin roared, his eyes burning with rage.
The servant bowed immediately. "I'm sorry sir…but Wallace and Robbins…they've escaped."
He was dead before he could explain further. The Elder was across the room in less than a heartbeat, and the servant's head was ripped from his body. The eyes blinked several times before closing for a final rest.
The younger Kindred in the room stared at the scene before him, blinking repeatedly as if trying to rid his mind of the gruesome image.
"You…Harper," the Elder growled. "Find out how this happened."
"Y-yes sir."
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
Kim Robbins poked her head out of the alleyway. The coast was clear. She motioned behind her for the Tremere and he joined her as she stepped out towards the street. They walked quietly down the sidewalk until they came to the nightclub. The bouncer recognized her immediately and let them in. She led the way upstairs to the office and didn't even bother to knock as she opened the door. The man at the desk looked up abruptly, about to protest…and then he saw who his visitors were.
The Prince rose from his seat and crossed the room quickly, drawing his clanmate into a fierce hug. "I thought they'd killed you, Kim!"
"Sorry, no luck there," she said, grinning as she hugged him back before pulling away.
"Wallace."
"Sir."
"Please…both of you…sit down," Andrew gestured to the couches and chairs as he made his way to one. "What the hell happened?"
His clanmate replied first. "Sturluson. Bitch lured me out with kine. Staked me before I knew what was happening."
"Her childe—Harper—and Primogen Peters flanked me in a dark alley when I was looking for her," Wallace gestured towards Kimberly.
Andrew nodded. "Sturluson should be on her way here. I've just summoned her. I have some questions she needs to answer."
"Is that really wise, sir? She could bring friends…"
"I know what I'm doing, Tom. And with you two here, I feel it will go well. I'm sure she already knows you've escaped anyway…how did you escape…anyway?"
Kim chuckled. "Well, they took enough of his blood so he couldn't use his magic…but for some reason, they didn't take mine."
The Prince glanced at his Tremere Sheriff. "So you drank her blood and were then able to use it?"
"That's about it, yes."
"Very resourceful…"
A knock sounded on the office doors. Andrew's ghoul opened the door and peered in.
"Sir," she spoke, clearing her throat to get their attention, "there's a Miss Sturluson here to see you."
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
For some reason, Alice was finding herself drawn to Briggs. It very much resembled the rumored feelings of a blood bond. She shrugged off the idea. Impossible. That had never worked on her. However, the more she thought about him and what had happened, the more she found herself warming up to him. Maybe she was starting to actually like him—for whatever reasons. It was the only thing that made sense to her. She frowned at that thought as she pulled her car into its spot outside her haven.
Just before she took the keys out of the ignition, she paused and remembered that she had one more errand to run. Instinct guided her to her elder's mansion and she parked the car, thinking nothing of the sudden excursion as she headed through the held-open door and up to the familiar office. The double doors were open and she stepped through, stopping only when she reached the rosewood desk on the other side of the room.
"Ah, Miss Campbell…good of you to come." Briggs lifted his gaze, fixing his eyes on hers. "Please, sit down."
She took a seat before she realized that she'd even considered it. "You wanted to see me?"
He nodded. "I need to know—what do you know about the Toreador Praxis?"
"Not very much, I have to admit, sir…I know their Elder is involved, and Miss Sturluson and her childe." Alice couldn't help but answer, and do so truthfully.
"What about the Harpy?"
"No. She's loyal to the throne."
"And the Primogen?"
"I don't know."
Briggs chuckled. "For someone so close to the Prince, you know little of those who wish him ill. One might think that you're pretending to be in love with him. But that's not the question here. I want you to convince the Harpy to involve herself in this."
"But it would cause scandal—Adelle would never risk her status."
The Elder ran a pale hand through his dark hair. "Maybe you didn't hear me clearly, my dear Alice…this is not a request. It is not a recommendation."
She focused a steely gaze on him. "And I wasn't refusing, I was only offering my informed opinion on the matter. I know Adelle fairly well—she won't stoop to that level."
"Stoop?" Henry rose from his desk, walking around it to stand behind the chair Alice was occupying. "I wouldn't call it stooping."
Alice felt herself tense as he moved behind her.
"You see, girl," his tone became condescending, "we are the rightful rulers of the Camarilla. Not the rabble. Not the Roses. We're going to pretend to help the Toreador get rid of Cantley and his cabinet."
The subsequent intrusion into her thoughts did not escape the Primogen's notice. He was scanning her reaction. With a great force of willpower and concentration, she forced him from her mind.
"If you want to know what I'm thinking, ask me. Don't invade my mind without permission."
"Very well then. What are you thinking?"
She tried to think of a lie, but it never got to her lips. She was telling the truth without realizing that she'd even started to.
"It's a good plan."
A smile spread across the elder's lips. "So…you've spent all this time pretending, hmm? You're not actually blood bound to the Prince, are you?"
"No." Again, she was compelled to speak the truth.
"You're just using him."
"Yes."
Briggs chuckled. "You're more Ventrue than I thought, Alice…but tell me, how did you convince him that you were bound?"
She glanced over at him, a smile crossing her face. "That's very simple, Henry. I drank his blood."
"And so he trusts you."
"Implicitly."
A soft laugh escaped his lips. It was rare that something amused him so much in these later nights. "You just came from meeting with him, yes? What happened?"
"We discussed the Toreador."
"And what was decided?"
"I'm going to speak with their elder. Offer an alternative to their Praxis."
"Which would be?"
"Support for someone else as Prince. They don't want Andrew on the throne, that's plain enough—but Mr. James is susceptible to beauty, and I pride myself on excelling at deception."
"You're going to steal the throne, then."
"If I can win the support of the old rose, then yes, that would be the plan. I know I'll have Andrew on my side. He can't help but support me."
He grinned. It was more eerie than anything else. "And everyone else? Will they support you as well?"
"I don't plan on giving them a choice. I was hoping I could count on your support, through. I'm sure you'd rather see a clanmate on the throne than a mere Brujah, yes?"
"Of course. I just worry about your loyalty, my dear. You're too good at pretending."
Alice smiled sweetly. "My allegiance to the clan is unshakable. Nothing could ever change that."
"Good." He was looking at her curiously, as if surprised by the truth she'd just spoken. "I still don't trust you…but I'm going to work with you. I sure as hell don't have time to be Prince, and I'd rather have you on the throne than Spencer."
Her smile widened. "Thank you, Strategos."
His eyes fixed on hers. "Of course, you will tell no one of our true plans."
"No one."