Chapter 8: Bonds and Boundaries

Disclaimer: All the characters and places belong to their respective creators and owners. I only own my OC and make no money whatsoever out of this.

I woke up very late the following night, ran some house errands that I had been neglecting and checked my overflowing email. A few reminders from Gary, to whom I replied that I would visit him as soon as I could, some spam and a mail from Mercurio who wanted to make sure I was all right. I wrote him that I was fine and thanked him, without going into too much detail since I was not allowed to. I really had to think of some way of repaying him, and, although cold hard cash would surely make him very happy, it wouldn't hurt for once to do something different.

For that night though, I only wanted to rest, even if it felt strange having time for myself. I scanned the library in search for a book but I needed to relax, so Maths and Economics related publications were out of the question. Mystery and horror, no thanks, I had had enough of that in the last few nights: I almost regretted my revulsion for romantic novels because right now one of those chick flicks where every character is two-dimensional and everyone's biggest problem is their love life would have at least provided some comic relief.

I turned on the big TV that I rarely used anymore and did some zapping: so many channels and nothing interesting. Finally my attention got caught by a film about the infamous Affair of the Diamond Necklace. Since I was a child, I had always been fascinated by the history of France, especially by the events that had lead to the French Revolution. Now, though, it only reminded me of the fact that LaCroix was probably born a few years after this scandal, most likely in the midst of the madness following the Revolution. When he was old enough for cognisant memories, however, the Napoleon era would have already begun, so he had almost certainly grown up considering Bonaparte as a myth and a model…

Luckily, the sound of an incoming email dragged me away from my musings and I went upstairs to read it.

From: Therese Voerman
To: Irene Wilson
Subject: Meeting

Ms Wilson,

I would like to set an appointment with you post-haste. Could you come to the Asylum tonight?

Regards,

Primogen Voerman

Wonderful, just what I needed. The fact that she had decided to contact me for the first time after months, now of all times, seemed to confirm my suspicions. Of course, it may simply be related to the fact that I was close to the probable future Prince, but I had been the most prominent agent of the Prince in charge for the last two years, and that had not seemed to interest her. I sighed: I had to talk to Strauss about this, although I was sure he would not take it well. I did not think it wise to reply to her that I could not go because I was waiting for the Regent to call at my house: that would have been suicide, if my fears were correct.

From: Irene Wilson
To: Therese Voerman
Subject: RE: Meeting

Primogen Voerman,

I regret informing you that tonight I have previous engagements that it is not in my power to cancel. I apologise for having to deny your request, but I assure you that, as soon as I am free, I will call to schedule a meeting.

Respectfully yours,

Irene Wilson

I had barely had time to send the mail when another one came in. It was the Regent, informing me he would be here in half an hour. Grateful for the warning, I made sure that the apartment was immaculate and that I had a decent vintage of blood to offer. I was certain he could afford much better, but it was merely meant as a courteous welcome.

The doorbell buzzed and this time I was ready, greeting Strauss with a half-bow, letting him sit on the couch and pouring him a glass of vitae which he politely accepted.

"Everything has gone smoothly with LaCroix, I have personally escorted him to a special private jet, which is scheduled to land at LaGuardia in two hours," he broke the silence, placing the empty glass down on my coffee table.

"That's a great relief," I answered, doing the same.

"Indeed, but it is not yet time to lower our guards or celebrate: as you indubitably understand, we now need to focus our attentions on the upcoming election of the new Prince."

"Yes, sir."

"From your tone I presume that you have a question for me," Strauss said with a half-smile and I nodded in response.

"I do, but I know it is not my place to ask."

"Allow me to be the judge of that," he replied and I relented although with some worry.

"I was simply wondering if you are going to… candidate yourself for the position. I know how you told me you prefer to stay in the backstage, so to speak, but the situation is quite… atypical."

"Yes, that is correct. After a long and rigorous meditation, I have taken an irrevocable decision in that sense. Before sharing it, though, I would like to hear your opinion on the matter."

"Why?" I asked, genuinely confused: if he had already made up his mind, there was no point in it.

"To see whether our conclusions match, in view of the fact that we seem to be of the same mind, more often than not."

Great: a test, just what I needed right now. So much for relaxation: I would rather have done a marathon reading all of the papers on the latest developments in advanced macroeconomics. And that was saying something.

"Well, my opinion is this: although I understand the benefits of not being under the limelight, to survive the Camarilla now needs someone who can represent a change, a metaphorical breath of fresh air, someone who is known for not having been fond of LaCroix's idea of ruling and who was not on his side. Most importantly, it needs someone who is able to think about the long-term, who is intelligent and experienced, and measured in his decisions, as a contrast to LaCroix's impulsiveness. I do not know many Elders, but, judging from the Council alone, it is clear to me that no one but you could be that man, Max. And I do not say it as an attempt at adulation. The only alternative solution could be using the information you have on Cutteridge to make him your figurehead and manage things from behind. But the Primogen is surely renowned for his dealings with LaCroix and as such, lacks the necessary credibility… Moreover, once he is in power, he might find a way to rebel to your control..." I trailed off, not really knowing what more to say.

"There are several secondary elements you have not taken into consideration, Irene, but you do not possess all the necessary background information. In spite of that, you have outlined the key factors which have been crucial in my analysis," he explained, meeting my eyes. "In fact, I shall run for the role of Prince, but with the understanding that it is going to be a temporary mission. I will take it upon myself to carry the Camarilla through this moment of great instability, and leave the post once I feel that this purpose has been fully accomplished."

The question that rose to my mind was "why?" but I did not dare to voice it. As much as I liked and respected Strauss, he did not strike me as a charitable type (charitable and Kindred were oxymora in my opinion), so why should he take the burden? What would he gain besides the momentary power in doing all the work and then having someone else reap the benefits?

"You must be asking yourself the reason why, and I might explain it to you before this night draws to an end. But first, I would like to hear your insights on the Council you have taken part in and, more importantly, on the other Primogen."

Was this whole night a never-ending examination? It felt like he was going to share information as a reward for correct answers. I did not have much of a choice, though, did I? So I reported my impressions, trying to avoid the Voerman incident as best as I could.

"You are rather apt at assessing characters, considering your scarce experience and the limited time at your disposal. There are numerous layers that lay still far beyond your grasp, but, as I had expected, you have potential and a natural predisposition for politics. Lawrence had a good eye in selecting you."

"You know, his name has been brought up several times in the last few days, but I… I barely know anything about him. From what LaCroix told me, they were not exactly on friendly terms, but that's not a surprise," I replied, hoping that the Regent would at least give me some scraps of information.

"Indeed, it is not, but it went deeper than you might imagine. Mr Thompson was not a run of the mill Ventrue: he and Cutteridge both aimed at becoming Primogen. The latter was openly supporting LaCroix, while your ill-fated Sire had expressed some reservations about the youth and relative greenness of the chosen Prince: he had backed LaCroix's competitor before and during the election. You can imagine why Cutteridge prevailed in the end."

"This competitor, where is he?" I asked, sensing something was off: if he were still in LA he should now be a logical candidate for the position of Prince.

"As they say, he is blowing in the wind: his jet exploded in midflight, two months after LaCroix was nominated. The official story was that it was the consequence of a Sabbat or an Anarch assault, but it was then that the first unsavoury rumours about the Prince started circulating. The entire incident appeared far too convenient, given that it beheaded the internal opposition he had in Clan Ventrue."

"I see," I replied with a smirk: it seemed LaCroix's modus operandi, all right.

"I had never been particularly fond of LaCroix and his style, but after this episode I began to be gravely concerned about the haste of his decisions. Eliminating problematical opponents is a common practice in our world, but I felt he lacked patience and discretion in choosing the appropriate timing to avert suspicions."

So, as I had supposed, Strauss was not above these methods: he was simply better at covering his tracks and, therefore, even more dangerous. An extremely comforting information.

"My Siring must also have been a blessing for him, since it gave him the perfect excuse to get rid of Lawrence, although, due to Nines' intervention, it also burdened him with my presence," I mused, finally understanding LaCroix's outburst and the way he had spoken before pronouncing my Sire's sentence. The words were apparently filled with regret, but now that I knew him, I could easily recognize his "cat who just ate the canary though he must pretend not to" tone.

"Yes, it was an unexpected stroke of luck for LaCroix. Subsequently, as the tales of your accomplishments travelled through the city, it seemed quite paradoxical that the Childe of his former antagonist was turning out to be the key of his success. In the end, however, you have avenged your Sire and completed his mission. Perhaps it is true that Blood will out, regardless of the circumstances."

"What I still do not understand is why Lawrence Embraced me, giving his enemies such an opening. Furthermore, to be considered a potentially suitable Primogen, he must have been quite powerful and experienced. Yet, he got caught immediately and did not put up a fight. It might have been the surprise factor but the whole affair of my Embrace does not make any sense to me."

The fact that Lawrence did not belong to a very late generation partially explained why I had had a chance at resisting LaCroix's Domination and, generally, at surviving this whole ordeal. But it only raised more questions: my blood and my powers were diluted compared to my Sire, plus he had probably had centuries of training. The choice of a run-down place like the Luckee Star Motel was, in retrospect, an attempt to avoid places commonly frequented by Ventrues and Hollywood was still in Anarch hands. But the rest… it was against all logic. It could not even be attributed to a mad passion for me on his part, since we barely knew each other and I was sure that love had not anything to do with his motivations. Had he gone mad? My head felt like it could explode.

"I do not have the answers you seek, Irene. I might draw some assumptions, but it would be mostly a pointless exercise," he clarified, crushing all of my hopes. Maybe he was lying, it was a possibility, maybe not; still, I could not ignore the fact that he had waited until now to relate these events. What surprised me the most, though, was the fact that nobody, not even the Anarchs had ever taunted me about this, since it seemed to be a common knowledge. There had been hints, yes, but no one had ever openly talked about my Sire and his enmity with the Prince. Did they all think that I knew it already? Or was there some other reason?

So many questions, so few answers. At least now I had something to work with.

"Did any of the Primogen contact you?" Strauss asked, changing topic and I felt a cold hand clutching my lifeless heart. I had let myself get carried away and I wondered if his mentioning Lawrence's name was a strategy to distract me from asking him about the motivation behind his choice to run for Prince and, thus, to allow him to gather more information from me before disclosing what he saw fit.

"Yes, Gary Golden and the Toreador Primogen, whose surname I ignore, asked me to pay them a visit. Gary has been quite persistent in his mail reminders. Before your arrival, Primogen Voerman sent me a mail asking me to meet her tonight. I have told her I had previous engagements and that I would get back to her as soon as I could," I explained, suddenly feeling heavier.

"You should comply with their requests in the next few nights, I would suggest giving priority to Golden and Voerman, since they are rather… volatile. As for Raoul Valdez, he is a long-term acquaintance and ally of mine, but it would be extremely imprudent for you to underestimate him or to let your guard down in his presence because of his affability."

"All right, Sir. I will follow your recommendations."

"Regarding Primogen Voerman," he started, and I felt a stone settle in my stomach. "For the entire duration of our... private reunion she conducted herself in a fairly... peculiar manner."

"What do you mean?" I asked, as a reflexive burn washed in my stomach: I did not have any gastric acids left, but, even after two years I still reacted psychosomatically, to a certain extent. Could it depend on my humanity?

"I feared she might be hostile, perhaps remembering our little play. In actuality, it was quite the opposite: she was… particularly tame, nearly subservient and regarded me in an uncharacteristic fashion," he explained, and I clutched the arm of my chair, grateful I was not holding the flute: I would have shattered it. I was an imbecile, and I knew I would face retribution, but withholding what I knew would mean risking even more, possibly my un-life, when the Regent would stumble on the truth at a later time. And I was certain that he would, since "Therese and Jeanette" were as stable as a two-legged table.

"And yet, she was remarkably importunate in soliciting my presence to the opening of an Art Exhibition she is patronising. It might be partially ascribed to an attempt at fawning for favours, but I sense that I am missing some vital clue," he trailed off, piercing me with his eyes, and I did not need him to finish the phrase to know what he was asking for.

"Yes, I was going to give you an explanation yesterday but there wasn't time," I began elucidating, taking a big breath. "I do not know how many Kindred are privy to this information: I stumbled on it by chance, while I was residing in Santa Monica and trying to persuade Therese Voerman to terminate the feud with Bertram Tung. I have never told a soul about this, since Therese threatened me with death if the word went out and I could not really afford to make myself such an enemy… To make it short, I got caught in the middle of a terrible argument between Therese and Jeanette, thus discovering that they are one and the same."

I had not wanted to let the Regent know about this, but now I did not have a choice. He would probably see it by himself soon enough and it was better not giving him any further reason for displeasure.

"A multiple personality disorder?" he half-asked, seemingly intrigued. "Several times I had wondered what branch of madness afflicted Voerman, besides her obvious denial of her true lineage… Please, go on."

"Yes, anyway, in the heat of the exchange, 'Jeanette' let it drop that her father had a habit of… of abusing 'Therese' when they were children."

"Are we talking about rape?" he asked, interrupting me and looking positively revolted.

"Yes."

"That explains 'Jeanette' Voerman's indiscretions," Strauss mulled over. "The Embrace must have merely augmented a pre-existent mental scarring."

"Yes. Still, her father is a figure that still holds a great influence over 'Therese', despite having presumably been dead for a long time," I said, purposefully withholding the fact that she had likely killed him. It was not certain, after all, and I did not have a death wish for myself. "She speaks of him with incredible devotion, bordering on worship, although at times it is laced by fear and even odium. When she has a fit, she usually reverts back to childhood, she is unreachable and forgets everything once it is over… Since you and her father share some physical traits, I thought the only solution was to make her face the one person whose authority she would recognize."

"Continue," he drawled and his tone brought a chill down my spine: he was getting it, and I was in deep trouble. I would have done better staking Therese and dragging her out of the room: why had I intervened, WHY? This was the worst time possible to anger Strauss.

"I am positive she has no cognisant memory of your… performance. After what you have told me, though, I am afraid it might have left an impression on her subconscious and that she might now be… projecting her feelings for her father on you, although unintentionally and without their original intensity."

I held my breath and almost shrank in my seat, as I saw his muscles tensing.

"Did you stop to consider the lasting effects of your actions, before instructing me to tamper with a Malkavian psyche?" he uttered in an even deeper tone of voice than his usual baritone and I felt as if a cotton pad had been stuck in my mouth.

"I… I based my decision on my past experiences with her and… I thought there would be none," I managed to stutter, my voice failing me. "I am truly mortified, but it was an emergency and…"

I gasped as I felt something slicing the air all around my head: I froze as I realised that my unused kitchen knives were hovering all around my body, their sharp points aiming at me.

"This is an emergency," Strauss murmured gravelly. "In the future, unless I am confronted with an equivalent life or death situation, I trust that you will refrain from taking a gamble which could have unpredictable repercussions on my existence before acquiring my authorization. Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly, sir," I breathed, as the knives drew back and flew to their rightful place, steeling myself to avoid the humiliation of shaking uncontrollably. The message was crystalline and inwardly, besides the terror, I almost felt some admiration for his style.

"It is… fortunate that the benefits gained from having such an exclusive influence on a Malkavian Primogen will indisputably outweigh the aggravating drawbacks," he said calmly, leaning back on his chair, as if nothing had happened. "I wondered if you truly had had the presence of mind of planning that far ahead, but it appears that it was merely a providential twist of fate. Still, even if it played in my favour this time, I cannot afford my associate to rely on chance."

So he was not really angry, he merely wanted to make a point and give me a "warning" for the future. If this were the case, I really did not want to discover what his actual wrath was like: he could have killed me without me even realising it, and I wasn't even able to start imagining to what extent his powers went. Thaumaturgy was a discipline enshrouded in darkness, I had heard Tremere could do many different things involving blood, but it was hard to distinguish legends from truth. I had seen a Sabbat Tremere producing flames, so that was also a possibility… And now I knew they could use some kind of telekinesis… What else lay in store?

"I apologise, sir, I promise it will not happen again," I replied, bowing as much as I could while being seated.

"Apology accepted, and I trust you will keep your word," he drawled, pouring himself some more blood, the implications of the contrary palpable in his undertone. "I do not put the blame on you directly, Irene, but on LaCroix's inadequate teachings and his penchant for impulsiveness. I appreciate your talent to trust your instincts in desperate situations, but I want you to always be able to evaluate the gravity of the problem and if there is room for a safer solution or for delaying it, before resorting to drastic measures."

"I understand," I replied, knowing that he was right. It was ironic, since I usually overanalyzed things myself, but probably LaCroix's "training" had affected me more than I cared to admit. When given an unspoken order, I had just jumped to find an immediate solution, since that would have pleased my former boss. Almost a reflexive reaction.

"Hence, I shall provide you with the proper tuition, in view of the fact that I would like for our collaboration to continue for the years to come," he declared, and, as much as I had expected it, after what had just happened, I hadn't been that certain anymore.

"There is no need to be surprised, Irene, excluding this… faux pas, your conduct throughout this crisis has exceeded my expectations, by far. Unlike LaCroix, I evaluate the whole picture before making a decision, and it would be irrational to deprive myself of such a valuable associate. You are green but possess the potential to aim for greatness: you merely need time and an accurate guidance. I can offer you both," he trailed off, sipping on his flute, probably to emphasise the point. A slap and a caress, I mentally noted with an internal smirk: some methods were simply universal.

"Offering me time? What do you mean?" I asked, baffled. It could simply be a euphemism for "I'll let you live", but something in his tone suggested that it was more than that. It was not meant to be threatening.

"To attain a higher position in our ranks, timing is as vital as abilities and connections. Being at the right place, at the right moment, given that vacancies in power do not occur frequently, except in periods of great instability, as it has been the case here in Los Angeles. Although your contribution has been crucial in solving this unpleasant incident, you are now unable to directly harvest the fruits for yourself. If I am elected Prince, with Cutteridge 'on my side', for the duration of my reign you will have the opportunity to complete your preparation and interweave beneficial relationships with the most influential members of your Clan. With your Primogen's willing contribution, I will make a true Ventrue out of you," he said with a half-smile, and I could not help but chuckle at the irony of it all. After two years spent under THE Ventrue of LA, who had blatantly ignored granting me with the required tutoring and introduction to my Clan, it would be a Tremere, of all people, to try to amend to my anomalous condition. And again, the question rose in my chest: what did he gain from this? What did he expect in return? There was some long-term plan in his mind, of that I was sure.

"What is more, when and if I deem you ready, should I still be in charge and the Primogen of your Clan under my control, I could ensure you an… opening for a prestigious role," he continued, placing the glass back down. Ok, where was the catch?

"In exchange, I expect fealty, dedication, integrity and, above all, for you to be forthright with me during our private reunions: I require a trustworthy and lucid assistant, not an obsequious puppet. I think your mind is your greatest asset and I do not want to risk contaminating it with… unnatural emotions and urges. For this reason, I shall not force a Blood Bond upon you, even though it is a common practice in my Clan. I can assure you though that I have other… extremely effective means to verify your continued loyalty. My trust is neither easy to gain nor to lose, but once it happens, it is as irretrievable as the consequences it will bring down upon yourself."

I was extremely relieved to hear the Blood Bond was not contemplated, and I had to stifle a laugh: he was probably already too worried about surviving Therese's newfound… sentiments without taking the chance to have me acting like a lovesick puppy. As for the rest, it did not come as a surprise and the conditions were more or less equivalent to those imposed by LaCroix, with the difference that here I wouldn't have to pretend to be an idiot and I would actually be gaining something for myself, most especially the knowledge and connections I so desperately needed and lacked. I knew the Regent wanted to exploit me for his own agenda, and I did not trust him entirely, but at least I could try to make the most out of this situation. Even in the worst case scenario, thanks to the experience gained, I would have more chances at surviving on my own than I did now. Besides, it was not as if I had much of a choice: I was too involved in this situation, starting with the blackmail to Cutteridge, and I needed the Regent's protection, at least for the near future.

"I understand, Max. I thank you for this opportunity, and I gladly accept your terms, since it is the way I like to do business myself," I replied with a smile.

"Perfect. Just allow me a final word of warning: I have always appreciated your discretion… The fact that you have never attempted to enquire or pry into Tremere secrets and affairs has not gone unnoticed. I trust that this quality will not waver in the future."

"I know my place, and I can assure you that I have no intention of overstepping my boundaries."

"Excellent. I think that the occasion calls for a toast, to this … partnership of ours," Strauss proclaimed, refilling our glasses. "May this be only the beginning of a long and fruitful association."

"Prosit," I responded, as we let our glasses make a brief contact.

"How far does your knowledge of my mother language reach, Irene?" he asked with an amused smile.

"More than far enough to handle a toast, I would hope," I retorted, eliciting a chuckle from him. It was hard thinking that this was the same man who had previously threatened to turn me into a pincushion. Feeling comfortable in his presence was way too easy for my liking, and I needed to remember myself constantly to keep my guard up. We were bound to get more… familiar in the future, and this would only heighten the probability of letting my defence slip at some point. I would need to tread carefully.

"Sunrise is approaching, it is time for me to return to the Chantry," he murmured, looking at his watch. I simply nodded, raising to accompany him to the door.

"The Conclave for the election of the new Prince will be in three nights at the Nocturne Theatre. I urge you to visit Golden, Voerman and Valdez before then," he reminded me, stepping out of my apartment.

"Sir, how do you want me to act with Therese? I think she might have an interest in the nature and closeness of our… affiliation, for reasons she probably does not even realise herself," I asked, since I did not want to risk his wrath again, or Therese's, or, worst, both.

"I am pleased that you have raised this question. Act as you normally did in your previous dealings with her, I doubt she will dare to enquire directly. Should she attempt an oblique questioning, I pray you to subtly convey the fact that we merely share a strictly formal business deal," he murmured, and I thought that it shouldn't be difficult stating the simple truth. Still, with a Malkavian, complications were bound to occur.

"Of course, Max."

"I shall see you at the Conclave, until then, good luck on your endeavours."

I thanked him and half-bowed in reply, as I watched him disappearing beyond the elevator door. I lost no time in following his instructions, arranging the appointments with the Primogen. Therese would come first: better take this problem off my head as soon as possible, besides I had the impression she would not exactly appreciate having to receive me after I had gotten through Golden's quarters.

As I was about to turn off the computer, a new message came in. Sighing and half-expecting it to be from Therese, I opened it, but it came from an unknown sender, with no text, just a picture which was still loading. Since only a handful of people had my address, I was going to delete it as spam, but I stopped dead in my tracks as I realised what the subject matter of the image was: a simple postcard of the Liberty Statue with the slogan "Greetings from NY" printed in a brilliant white.

It was probably just a mistake, or a coincidence, I tried to convince myself, as the apparently innocuous item seemed to mockingly glare at me from the screen. The only problem was that I had never believed in coincidences.

A/N: A transitory chapter, to set some things for future times. Next one will be full of events and then… the story will enter its second phase, so to speak.

Sorry for the delay, but I do not have much free time these days, and it was difficult balancing the amount of information shared by Strauss to avoid giving away his future plans and designs both for him and for Irene, hope I managed to. Besides, I needed to proof check the chapter some more with a fresh head before releasing it.

An enormous thank you to sister-b, Topska and Loving Companion Cube for reviewing the last chapter, it really means a lot.

Thank you to all the silent readers, old and new!

Finally, as always, a special thank you to Loving Companion Cube for all the support and precious information on the World of Darkness.