Note: Please see Prologue for warning, copyright and disclaimer information.

The Chantry

A little while later we pulled up to the palace that was the Tremere Chantry. A ghoul ran around opening doors for the vamps, but I got out before he could touch my door. I wanted to keep the crossbow with me, but I knew they'd never let me take it into the palace.

Jurgen led us into the building, through gilded rooms as impressive as the ones at the Ventrue palace had been. He and Cormac kept up a steady stream of conversation as he led us through the halls, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy trying to keep my eyes on all the vamps and ghouls roaming the halls to pay attention to them. By the time we reached our room, I had a killer headache.

The bedroom was large and very nice except for one thing; it only had one bed and no couch. On one wall were two bedside tables on either side of a very large bed. A writing desk stood to the left of the door, and a dresser to the right. Near the center of the room lay two chairs with a low table between them. Two doors led off the room one to what looked like a bathroom and the other to what had to be a closet or dressing room of some sort.

"One of the house ghouls will bring up your luggage within the next fifteen minutes," Jurgen told us.

"Be careful of the one that looks like a sword wrapped in a tarp," Cormac warned.

"Because it is," Jurgen replied with a smile. "I will let them know that. I believe you know the rules about the ghouls in the house?" he asked, looking pointedly at me.

Cormac didn't even blink. "Yes."

"That is good," he said firmly. "We would hate to have another incident like the one we had two hundred and…." He paused, trying to remember.

"Fifty years ago," Cormac supplied.

"Ah, yes. What a shame."

"Yes, it was," my companion murmured with a pointed look at me. "I'm sure Eliza will be on her best behavior."

I tried to look innocent. "Of course, I will be," I told him in my best 'good-girl' voice.

"Good," Cormac replied.

"I'll leave you two to get settled in," Jurgen said, turning toward the door. "I will come back and alert you when Eduardo returns."

"That room that Dougal requested," Cormac called before the other vamp could leave.

Jurgen turned. "Yes?"

"When would it be possible for me to have a look at it?"

"Well," he replied, thinking, "I have a few things I have to do right now, but possibly after Eduardo returns?"

Cormac nodded. "Of course."

"Perhaps he'll want to show you the room himself," Jurgen suggested.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." At that, he turned and closed the door behind him on his way out.

Cormac took a step away from me as if he expected me to explode. I shook my head as I walked further into the room. I knew I hadn't exactly been the most pleasant, but did he really think I'd stake him for playing the game we'd both agreed to?

I looked around the room taking in the single large bed. "I suppose this was Brenda's idea."

"I don't know that she knew whether to specify double beds." He walked over toward the desk and stood staring down at the items on its surface.

"There's not even a couch in here," I mumbled.

"I'll be quite comfortable on the floor," he told me.

"One of us will be." If he thought I'd me more comfortable on that big soft bed, he was sadly mistaken.

"Do you have something against beds, Eliza?" he asked in a low voice.

"Oh, it'll be just great!" I exclaimed as sarcastically as I could manage. "We can stay up all night and talk girl talk until the sun comes up and then you'll… sleep like the dead. Then I can paint your toenails cherry red a-and listen to you not breathe and watch your dead body for twelve hours. I'll love it, Mac. It'll be just like fun, only much more gruesome."

I ran a hand across my forehead and looked away, feeling wicked stupid. "I'm sorry," I said softly. "I'm just shooting my mouth off. I'm sorry."

"I can call Jax and have him return you to Salem if you would like," he offered quietly.

"No," I told him more firmly. "I'm on board here. I was just shooting my mouth off." I hadn't meant to say any of that, it just kinda slipped out. It wasn't his fault I hated vamps, hated being around them.

An awkward silence filled the room, broken only when a ghoul knocked on our door. He brought the luggage in and carried it through to the dressing room, where he sat them on stands made for that purpose. We both unpacked a few things into the dresser, avoiding meeting each other's eyes.

As I was wondering exactly what he remembered of the past we were interrupted by another knock at the door. Cormac opened it to find Jurgen.

"I hate to interrupt," he said softly, "but there is a messenger downstairs for you. Of course we cannot allow him in the house and it is a verbal message. Would you like to accompany me down to receive it?"

"Of course," Cormac replied. He gave me a long look. "Be good, stay here," he told me.

"Okay," I answered obediently, although I had to grit my teeth to do so.

When they'd gone, I paced the room restlessly. After a while I crossed to the suitcase and reached in for stakes. I limited myself to four, knowing it would never be enough if they attacked, but hoping against my better instincts that they wouldn't attack a member of their own clan.

Then there was nothing for me to do but pace. I didn't like being left alone, locked in a room this way. I didn't like that I couldn't watch Mac's back in case he needed it. I didn't like being this far away from Corrine if she needed me. I wanted to strike out in frustration, but forced myself to just pace.

When Cormac returned nearly an hour later, I spun toward the door expectantly. He looked at me and gave a slight smile and chuckle as he walked to the nearest bedside stand.

I watched him closely, and he turned to study my face for a moment. "Did you happen to see the blond gentleman in the conclave room?"

I frowned and thought for a moment. "The funny looking guy with the weird pants?"

"Yes," he replied. "Mikko."

"Is that what his name is?" I was more concerned with what Cormac was doing at the nightstand.

"Yes," he murmured, reaching for the drawer and pulling it open. "He has developed an interest in you."

"Oh, really?" Just what I needed, a blood drinking admirer.

"Yes, he offered me payment and a replacement for you for a few nights."

That pissed me off. "What are you, my pimp now?"

"Ah, I declined quite tactfully," he said, looking down into the drawer. "I don't believe any other feelings will be hurt." At that he glanced quite pointedly my way.

Maybe not his feelings. "Last time I checked I wasn't just a piece of meat," I told him angrily, "so I'm going to take offense at that."

"As I said," he replied in warning, "no other feelings were hurt." He removed the stake I had placed in the drawer and looked sternly at me, fingering the wood in his hands.

"What?" Had he really expected me to be defenseless in a building full of monsters?

He didn't answer, merely walked around the bed for the other nightstand.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"I thought I asked you to keep your accessories to a minimum," he reminded me.

I shrugged. "I'm only carrying one, the rest of them are around the room and in the suitcase."

He reached into the other drawer and removed the stake I'd hidden there. "Where are the rest?"

I pretended ignorance, or tried to. "The rest what?"

"The stakes, Eliza."

I could tell he was starting to lose his patience and I sighed. "There's one in the desk."

He walked to the desk and looked in the shallow pencil drawer. He pulled out the stake he found inside and looked at me. "Any more?"

Without a word, I went to the dresser and took the stake out of the top drawer I'd put my clothes in. Cormac sighed and walked over to me, handing me the other three.

I looked up at him nervously. "We couldn't just leave them around the room?"

"No," he told me. "We will not be here that long."

"We've already been here that long," I murmured, more worried than angry. "You want me to put these back in the suitcase?"

He nodded. "It would be appreciated."

I went to the dressing room and put the stakes back into the suitcase. I didn't like it, but I was in Cormac's world now. It would be better for both of us if I followed his rules while I was there. Tremere weren't likely to attack one of their own, were they?

When I returned to the bedroom, Cormac said, "We will be leaving for Paris, possibly tomorrow or the day after. I have a lead on where Dougal went after he left here."

"Okay, so why are we waiting to go?"

He shrugged. "I never actually spent any time in Berlin and Jax was thoughtful enough to give me a few addresses of nice restaurants. I thought that maybe you would care to go out and have a decent dinner… on Brenda."

I smiled grimly. "Sure, as long as she's paying."

He glanced at my clothes, then asked, "Do you have something…?"

"A little less break and enterish?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, Corrine made me get a few things." She'd bought me much more than she should have; I'd never wear half the stuff. Most of it didn't exactly lend itself to hiding in the dark or slaying. "How nice are we talking?"

"A little better than what you're wearing."

I walked back into the dressing room. I hadn't unpacked everything by any means, just the things I thought I'd be wearing. "What did you have in mind?"

"Admittedly, Eliza," he replied, walking to the door of the dressing room, "I've never seen you wear anything but jeans and the tank top."

I paused in the act of opening the suitcase and looked at him. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

"What else do you have?"

I noticed that he didn't actually answer me, but I ignored that and pulled out a thin black dress from the case. It had only one strap, and was slit down one side to mid thigh. Corrine had included a pair of strappy sandals that matched perfectly.

Cormac's eyes widened a little. "That would work."

I looked at the dress and frowned. "I'm not even sure how this goes on."

"It looks like something Brenda would wear," he commented.

"Oh, yeah," I agreed wryly. "And it goes real well with the stitches, too."

"Yes," he said, reminded of my injury, "by the way, how are those healing?"

"Actually," I replied, "the stitches could probably come out. Got a pair of scissors?"

"I don't."

"Maybe there's a pair in the desk?" I suggested.

"Maybe," he agreed. He walked over to look in one of the drawers and added, "There is."

He brought them over to me and I took them, then took off my jacket and laid it on a chair. I went into the bathroom and it only took me a few minutes to remove the stitches. I walked back into the bedroom and returned the scissors to the desk drawer

"Do you want to change first," I asked him, gesturing toward the bathroom, "or do you want me to?"

"Go ahead," he replied.

"This may take a while," I warned him. "I'm not really sure how this goes on."

"I'll just change out here," he told me.

"I'll take my time," I said quickly.

He took off his jacket, and I have to admit I panicked. I tried to move slowly, but I know it looked like I was hurrying as I grabbed the dress and stopped briefly at the dresser for undergarments before retreating into the bathroom.

I closed the door quickly and leaned against it for several minutes before I could gather my thoughts. Finally I shook my head at my hormones. This was just a simple dinner, not a date. Cormac wanted to see the sights and didn't want to leave me alone in the chantry. That's all this was, I told myself. Ri-ight.

The evening gown was actually very beautiful. Its one strap went over my left shoulder and did a pretty good job of hiding the still healing scar the Garou had given me. I stripped to the skin and put on the undergarments Corrine had told me went with the dress. The gown itself went on easy, and I brushed my hair until it shown.

When I picked up the shoes, it took me a minute to understand how they were supposed to fasten on my foot. There were two very long laces attached to the back of the shoe, too long to tie at my ankle. I tried various ways of wrapping them around my leg, but they all looked strange and felt weird.

I was startled a little by a tapping on the door. "What?"

"Are you all right?" Cormac called through the wood.

"Did you think I strangled on the dress?" I muttered under my breath. Louder, I said, "I'm trying to figure out how to put these shoes on. Got any suggestions?"

"Take the old ones off first," he said dryly.

"Funny, did that," I growled in frustration.

"And the socks," he continued.

I stalked to the door and wrenched it open, holding the shoe out to him. "Here, you figure it out," I told him irritably.

"They're not my size," he replied seriously. Then he took the shoe and gestured toward the bed. "Please, have a seat."

I walked to the nearest chair instead and sat down silently. He knelt on the floor and took my left foot gently in his hands. He slid the shoe on my foot, then rested it on his thigh. Picking up the ends of the laces, he wound them several times around my calf until they almost reached my knee, where he tied a bow at the back of my leg.

When he put my foot back on the floor, I flexed it experimentally and realized that the ties actually felt right. He lifted my other foot and put the shoe on the same way.

"You're just doing this way too easily," I told him with a frown.

"Well," he replied, "you don't spend time with the likes of Nina and Christina and Brenda and not learn a thing or two about—"

"Women's clothing?" I couldn't stop myself, it just came out.

He glanced at my face. "Their footwear."

Sometimes my foot lives in my mouth. "I'm not sure I can walk in these," I said in an effort to cover my error. "I don't think I've worn heels… ever." There wasn't much call for it in my profession; monsters don't usually care what you're wearing when you kill them.

He stood up and offered me his hand. "I'll help."

After a brief hesitation, I took his hand and stood, unsteadily at first but, but soon I had the hang of it. I had to force myself to let go of him.

"Do you have everything you require?" he asked softly.

I shook my head, still feeling naked. "Well, there is a problem with this outfit."

"No place for spikes?"

He knew me too well for someone who didn't remember me. "That would be the problem," I admitted.

"Did Corrine not think to buy a purse?"

I hadn't thought of that, I never carried a purse. Too much chance of losing it in a fight. "I don't know. I guess I could go look." I went back into the dressing room, careful not to overbalance on the heels. I looked in the suitcase and sure enough there was a purse that matched the dress. It was awfully small. "Small stake, maybe a little knife," I said to myself.

After rummaging through my things, I found a stake small enough to fit in the bag, as well as a little knife, then I returned to the bedroom. "Okay, I guess I'm ready, although another stake would be nice, but I can't think where I'd put it, so…."

Cormac was counting the money he'd hidden in the book, which reminded me that I might want to take some money myself in case we were separated. I got my pants from the bathroom and put a hundred dollars in the purse, along with my passport. Adding that stuff to the purse made it bulge suspiciously, but I wasn't dressing for fashion. Okay, so maybe I was, but the purse certainly wasn't going to be making a fashion statement.

After checking the battery in his cell phone, he changed batteries and set the one he'd removed up in a charger. He turned and offered me his arm. I took it and he led me toward the door. He locked it behind us and we started down the hall.

"So what was so much fun that it took you an hour to meet someone at the door?" I asked him.

"I told you," he replied, "it was the Ventrue ghoul at the door."

"Yeah," I muttered, "from the guy who thinks I'm a piece of meat."

"Yes, Mikko," he agreed. "I had a few things to take care of."

I didn't press him for details, not sure if I wanted to know what else he'd been doing. We walked through the chantry and out to the car.