Celeste: Sorry for leaving so many questions open but you know: Plot building and stuff (universal excuse for a sucking script, jajaja). But I think the desire will be satisfied in the future.
And thanks to Maellowyn (Now I feel dirty because of future chapters to come if THAT was stripping, jajaja), rednightmare (Vandal! We need a blood transfusion!), Sazei (I'll send you some info about the Blood Bond) and Shoryaku no Neko (Je suis un...uhh..fou? Thanks anyway for correcting my mistake, jajaja) for the reviews! You're the chocolate on my cake which is not a lie!
Familiar golden and white decor caught her eye, a style which was from the past. Older than herself from a long gone empire, yet so familiar and her gaze now focused on the man who stood in front of her. Blond hair, combed in a style which fitted the environment perfectly, he wore a bicone like Napoléon Bonaparte.
"Whose thrall are you?" the man asked her and she didn't understand his question.
"I'm no one's thrall." Her words made the man smirk snidely, showing her his bloody wrist.
"Whose thrall are you?" Blood filled her mouth, sweet tasty vitae her senses were longing for and it silently whispered the answer. She ignored it.
"No one's." It sounded weaker but still convinced. The man's pale face showed that he was displeased and he grabbed his collar, revealing a blood stained bite mark at the curve of his neck.
"Whose thrall are you?" This time he snarled it, sending shivers down her spine. She didn't want to upset him.
"Yours." Satisfaction appeared on the man's edgy face, lips curled up so that she could see his sharp fangs, feeling once more cold thick blood in her mouth.
The next night Katherine awoke, she stared for a long time at the ceiling. If someone ever were to ask what the most awkward get-up for a boss would be, without a doubt a lot of people would answer naked. She however would answer: dressed like Napoleon Bonaparte. With that question answered, the Ventrue crawled from the couch and decided to take another shower. After the bizarre meeting with LaCroix she'd already had one, but still felt his touch and Katherine wanted to get rid of it so he couldn't dominate her mind anymore, albeit it was again too late. The next thing she'd done was ask Mercurio to bring her some books about Napoleon. Giving her a questioning stare, the ghoul nodded, realising he wouldn't get any answer why. Well, Katherine came up with a new plan but a better description would be a checklist she needed to fulfill before meeting the Prince again. First and most important was feeding! Never ever she would go thirsty again into his office! Second: Reading about his time. The more knowledge about it the better. He wouldn't be able to ambush her or let her look like a retard, because there was no need to pull every answer out of her nose. Perhaps it was even possible for her to engage into some kind of conversation, rather than stuttering some words. These were the only two things she came up with during the taxi ride back, and regarding her state of mind it came as a surprise to even think straight for a time.
Upon entering the living room again, Katherine now spotted the pile of books. Grabbing one and slowly browsing through the pages with a lot of text and some illustrations, she put it back. Exactly what she wanted. After feeding upon poor Mercurio, she thought he would have been bedridden. Shamelessly she'd drank a bit too much of him so he would probably charge her with a high debt. Well, better than a vampire in frenzy, right?
"You a bit better, sweetie?" Mercurio just came back from some assignments she guessed, like he always had to do during daytime. "You seemed to be a bit out of place the past night. What happened?" Ah yes. It was quite unusual to wake him up from sleep to make a request and then feed on him like a starved mosquito.
"I don't want to talk about it." Besides who would believe it? A Malkavian perhaps and it was still her own dirty, fruity little secret to have some kind of Stockholm syndrome. In retrospect, she really could not claim hating all the events. Not that she had some sexual longing for him. That died alongside her body; however it felt nice like touching expensive soft silk. She hated how it happened and why. Without any doubt LaCroix was manipulating her, that was certain and Katherine could only guess what his intentions were. The most reasonable was the Blood Bond, hands down and there was perhaps the sole exception that he had some kind of perverted wicked fetish, enjoying make her suffer. Most likely, it was LaCroix after all, but besides his own pleasure there was no gain from it. At least no obvious one so she stuck with the Blood Bond, however why didn't he simply dominate her to drink his blood? Also regarding her behaviour, because of Ophelia's dementation the Ventrue could understand why LaCroix was thinking she liked such 'things'. In fact she was the one who kissed him, giving a completely false impression! How great and there was no better explanation than, 'Hey, Ophelia was also there but only I saw her. She demented me that's why I jumped at you!'. No thanks. She embarrassed herself in front of the Prince way too often. Headache alarm.
Mercurio simply shrugged. The ghoul knew where his place was and he didn't poke any further for which Katherine was thankful. "Thanks for the books. There are 200 dollars in my ragged clothes in the bathroom and add some ammo on top of it."
"Think 200 dollars is enough for my blood?" Mercurio was a Ventrue ghoul through and through.
"I'll get the rest later, Al Capone." Often Katherine suspected that he had been in some kind of crime syndicate after his days in the military and that Mercurio just was some kind of alias. He had a record in the Big Apple, so it wasn't too far-fetched, however it was time to find Simon and instruct him about his new job at the Confession. Enough friendly chatting with the ghoul, business called and it would distract her from the thoughts about LaCroix. Better to take one of the books with her just in case there were no punks to throw out, besides the Caitiff was a very silent guy. 'Can't blame him for that.' Again Simon was silent and brooding all the way, only nodding when Katherine gave him some instructions on how to handle guests who dared to disturb the usual peace. Venus eyed the new bouncer a bit doubtfully but Simon's physique was intimidating enough for her taste. Heather, the college student who helped out with collecting the cash at the entrance, seemed quite relieved to have another bouncer at hand next to Katherine.
"How did it go yesterday?" All of a sudden, Simon started to talk after a while. Both were standing next to the entrance, observing the dancing crowd and with a surprised look the Ventrue eyed him.
"What do you mean?" His sudden interest was kind of strange but on the other hand it must certainly be a bit overwhelming for him. All the new things, rules and on top of that meeting the most important Kindred of the city.
"That stuff the rich twerp, LaCrotch, wanted from you. I don't like him," he grunted, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Twerp. It really sounded funny but she wasn't in the mood for funny things and foremost not with regard to LaCroix. If she would have been in a better mood, Katherine would have burst into laughter about Simon calling the Prince LaCrotch.
"He may be a twerp but he's the most powerful Kindred in this city and be careful to whom you say such things. He can't peel your skin off with his bare hands but one word and you're ashes and it's LaCroix." That was a hint about the Toreador they killed for him, and Katherine really waited for the moment when a crowd of Anarchs marched into her club trying to bash her head with baseball bats and tire irons because they're just in the mood for that. "Besides, he's my step-sire, so you may think whatever you like of him but you should know that without him I'd probably have ended up like you." Simon snorted and looked now directly at her.
"Hey, didn't want to piss you off, but that guy's giving me the creeps. Looks like a walking corpse." Oh well yes. Katherine had observed the strange change of LaCroix's during the sarcophagus incident. He slowly looked paler, colder. That time back his presence already made her shift uncomfortably on her feet and now he made the Southland Slasher uncomfortable. Wasn't that somehow alarming?
"He is a walking corpse like you and me." And she had to give Simon credit for his sharp instincts. Must be the Gangrel blood, regardless of his being as Caitiff.
"You like him." It came out blunt and hit her like that, head jerking back into his direction like she'd been caught in the act doing a crime.
"I'm his protégée, his most trusted asset, most loyal adjutant. Whether I like him is not subject to a debate." The direction where this conversation headed wasn't to the Ventrue's liking or was she just again overreacting? In such cases it was better simply to remain calm. Ignoring emotions and the like. "He may be a twerp, he may give you the creeps but if he were to order me to kill you, I would do it because he's the Prince. He represents the law and I simply decided to side with the law rather than going against it like your sire and my sire."
"Did your real sire leave you for dead too?" Seeing his expression darken because of her response, Katherine could judge that Simon still wasn't very fond of the Camarilla's laws, or rather about the person who represented them. As long as he didn't side with the Anarchs or violate Camarilla law it was fine with her. At the moment.
"He simply sired me out of the blue without permission to piss off the Prince I guess. The Anarchs like to randomly Embrace people and leave them on their own." How a Ventrue could side with those punks was beyond her understanding but Alexander did. Strangely enough he had been employed at the LaCroix Corporation. Again questions which were nearly impossible to answer on her own. "Of course the Prince got wind of it, delivered the sentence to my sire and spared me." How LaCroix knew about that event so fast was another riddle, but not why he spared her. It was a simple political decision and made a figurehead out of the ill-fated progeny.
"Hmm..." Simon's gaze strode across the bunch of kine, as Katherine's loud voice drew his attention to her.
"Hey, you! Get off that toothpick and you are allowed to enter. No weapons." A man with a long brown coat turned around and a silver cross dangled around his neck. Oh shit. "Out of here. Now." Instantly, Katherine went stiff and the hunter inspected her slowly, making the sign of a cross. What in god's – no not his name now! – was a hunter doing here?
"Spawn of Satan, be warned." His voice was deep, however he marched out of the club without any resistance but the presence of a hunter in her club was alarming. Very alarming, more so that he recognised her instantly as a vampire. Hastily, her mind was searching for Masquerade violations she probably could have committed but nothing came to her mind. Should she inform LaCroix about this? After all it was her who killed Grünfeld Bach. Could any survivors of the explosion remember her face? It was Ash's fate which came to her mind. Katherine had saved him in the Society of Leopold and most certainly she did not want to share the same fate.
"What was that?" Simon's voice dragged her out of her pondering.
"That was a hunter. A human who knows about our existence and slays Kindred in the name of god. Don't take them lightly. I think this is a very bad sign for one of them to show here up." Neither was it a good idea to inform the Prince. It could look like Katherine would run to his lap whenever she faced problems and it was hard work to convince Dean that she wasn't his lapdog or a spoiled step-childe. Also her pride demanded that she solve her own problems with her own wits, rather than use her somewhat strange connections to the Prince; besides he would charge her for that. Thoughtful she looked at the crowd again, how the red light illuminated everything in a bloody colour and the DJ who produced fast, scratchy techno beats for the entertainment of the hungry masses. All in all it was satisfying how the Confession was going. The bar was full and Venus with her Beat Priestess number still maintained a welcoming dump for all poor souls who needed a bit of comfort. Could a rival send the hunters? Potential enemies were available enough, probably more than the fingers and toes she had.
A rhythmic vibration in her pocket announced a caller on her mobile and while Katherine flipped the mobile open, she took a look at the number. Masked. Oh well.
"Yes? Sir, Mr. Pieterzoon I'm surprised you call me. Yes of course. No, it is not, I'm on my way." That was kind of a surprise. "Simon, I'll leave the club to you. Please take good care of it and keep an eye on Heather." The red-haired girl was often a victim of drunken, testosterone filled men who were in search of fast and cheap fun. They could search for them among the guests but not amongst her employees if they didn't want to. Simon gave his nod of approval and Katherine went on her way to the Empire Arms where Jan Pieterzoon wanted her to come; anyway what did he want from her? Perhaps more questions about Beckett? Whatever the older Ventrue wanted was again only for her to guess. From the first impression, Pieterzoon was an experienced Kindred, somehow similar to LaCroix but only in style and clothing. He seemed more, well, reasonable, less cold but still maintained an aura of great authority which was an aura of anxiety with LaCroix.
This time, Katherine didn't need to sneak in or dominate the receptionist to gain entrance into the posh rooms of the hotel and the room which Pieterzoon was residing in. In fact he had chartered a whole level and awaited her right as she stepped out of the elevator.
"Fräulein Falkner, I thank you for coming at fast pace." It came as a surprise that he spoke with her in German rather than English, and on top of that with an outdated form of address.
"As I said, it is no bother." Shaking the outreached hand of the other Kindred, she followed him into a room where they could talk in a more appropriate environment.
"Please, have a seat. Can I offer you some refreshment?" Rarely was it possible at all to have the right vintage for a Ventrue guest on hand but it was simple hospitality amongst the clan, to show that you were welcome rather than an annoyance. Details Katherine still needed to consider, else she would forget them instantly because such things were still not natural for her, adapted into flesh and blood.
"This is not necessary, thank you. I didn't know you speak German." It was a blunt observation and for that, he gave the neonate an amused smile like she'd said something cute.
"I have several offices in Germany; sadly I had to close a factory in Bonn some time ago and to be honest: I'm not very fond of the English language. I really would have preferred to speak French with the Prince." Quite an odd remark, however, for the first time Katherine noticed that LaCroix really spoke on very rare occasions French. At first, she didn't even think that he was French indeed, having no accent whatsoever. But he had one as he surprised her during her inspection of that cursed poster which was gone for good now. Was there a reason behind it? He seemed so connected to his French roots.
"I understand." Denying that it didn't make her comfortable to be able to talk and hear the language she grew up with would be idiotic, however, she hadn't any aversion to the English language. That would be very strange for someone who was half-American. "I don't want to sound rude but may I ask why you want to talk to me?" Assuming in advance that Beckett was the reason would be really offensive and impolite. LaCroix already reacted very bitchy about such things and slapped her verbally with the sentence, that she could never assume even a single thought of his. True.
"Actually we are already on the topic. I'd like to talk to you about Sebastian." Katherine stared at the other Ventrue, not sure what the meaning of this was and to make things worse, it made her quite uncomfortable to be involved in such a conversation again. The last time she talked with Strauss about the Prince it turned out disastrous, even if she was talking to a fellow clanmate. She was – at least for the public – the Prince's most trusted asset. Why ask her about him? What was the point? Unless...Giving the signal that she suspected ulterior motives would give away that there was dirty laundry. And there was. A lot. Anyway, Katherine already decided on whose side she was standing, having known Pieterzoon only for several minutes and meeting him for the second time. She couldn't believe he would think otherwise. The only problem was the lack of such subtle politicking. Katherine was a soldier, not refined in smooth talking as such a situation needed and without a sire there was no one who would teach her this skill.
"I think I'm the wrong person for such questions." As if she would talk about LaCroix's past plans and his more or less non-compliant Camarilla actions, planning to diablerize an Antediluvian.
"I'm not your enemy, Fräulein Falkner; however I'm here on behalf of the Elders of Europe. Sebastian's past actions raised many eyebrows amongst them. It can't be denied that he calmed the craze about the sarcophagus and repelled a secret Sabbat assault." Katherine was still against it and it smelled too fishy, even if her own reasoning told her that Pieterzoon had a point.
"Does Prince LaCroix know about this?" If not she didn't dare to imagine his outburst of anger about the Elder's distrust.
"I suspect so. That is why he wasn't very pleased that we met, after all many questions are leading towards you." Pieterzoon's blue eyes focused on her, his face hardened. "Before I ask important questions I'd like to hear one answer. I know you owe your life to Sebastian and that you are very loyal towards him, however, where do your real loyalties belong to?" What was that for a dumb question? Did they suspect her to be a double agent, affected by the Sabbat's teachings and who changed sides silently? Well that was nearly true but still it was a shared secret between the Prince, Regent Strauss and her; or had Strauss spat it out?
"If you want to allude to my pretended allegiance to the Sabbat, then it is what it is. I'm loyal to the Camarilla, Herr Pieterzoon. Nothing has changed during my mission." The older Ventrue shook his head and leaned a bit forward.
"Are you loyal to the Camarilla or to Sebastian LaCroix alone?"
AN: Next we'll dive into Jan Pieterzoon's skin, because it worked for the last story to stay in Kat's skin all the time. It was more like the game, looking from the point of view of the player, anyhow that won't work for this story simply because it's going to be Jyhad heavy, intrigues, schemes within a scheme which Kat will never be able to spot and being the mean person I am, we'll never dive into LaCroix's skin. Jajajajajaja! Uh and sorry for my constant 'jajajaja' it's laughing in Spanisch and since San Lorenzo ow3ned Hurácan last week it's kind of stuck in my head at the moment.