Having no desire to play politics or pretend I had pleaded to be left with Romero and Yukie. Isaac had been stubborn about the matter but had given in when Romero had agreed to give me blood, sworn to keep an eye on me and Kent had offered to stay. After much debate and cursing in French, Sebastian had been compelled to stay too. Beckett had scorned that if any more of us remained in the ghouls' quarters it would appear insulting and so the rest of them had headed off for an early morning blood feast.

After Romero and Yukie had eaten and Romero had recovered from his blood donation to me we spent ten minutes conversing before I decided it was time to explore.

"No," Kent said flatly as he moved to block the door.

"Why not?" I demanded as I rested my hands on my hips and frowned at him. "He's bound to be hiding his mummy army somewhere."

"And why is that something we'd want to find?" He held up his right hand in protest. "Nope," he said as he waved his hand, "don't answer that, I don't want to hear your crazy justification for finding a mummy army."

"Well what if he's pharaoh's gold?"

"Which pharaoh?" Kent snapped.

"The rich one!" I retorted in exasperation. "Honestly Kent, silly question." I turned from him and started exploring the large quarters Romero and Yukie had been granted. It was spacious and brightly lit with glittering chandeliers. There were two singular beds with gossamer curtains to draw about them for privacy or to help with the pillow fort, an ornate wardrobe of brass and ebony with matching bedside cabinets, a large vanity table, a seating area composed of a low coffee table formed of a gilded camel with a glass surface on its back with soft, silk cushions to sit upon and a dining area with four chairs and a table formed of a standing gilded elephant with a glass top.

I skipped along the walls, which were decorated with carvings of Egyptian gods and royalty, pressing my fingers against them eagerly. There had to be a trick switch somewhere.

"Now is the perfect chance, while he's occupied," I suggested.

"Are you trying to start a war?" Kent retorted with a look of irritation. "He offers us hospitality so you decide to snoop?"
"Investigate," I corrected, "wouldn't want it all to be a trap and we get staked in our coffins, would you?"

"She has a point," Sebastian commented dryly. "What self-respecting prince would let so many strangers into their personal abode? Of course," he sneered, "he's not self-respecting, ready to consort with that whore, how foolish and disgusting."

"And you were doing so well there," Kent lamented sardonically with a shake of his head. "You don't make it easy keeping everyone from staking you."

"Well why do you try?" Sebastian snapped with a hostile look.

Kent looked at him with a serious stare before his silver gaze darted towards Romero. Suddenly the large room felt painfully small. I scrambled for an exit, pawing at every column and fake candle holder on the walls before one swung down to my delight and a large part of the wall began to ease back to reveal a stone staircase leading down.

"For fuck sake," I heard Kent call as I ran down it.

Kent's hand was upon me before I had descended three steps, curse that Toreador speed! "Come on Kent," I complained as he tugged me back, "we can't ignore this, this is fate!"

"No," he argued, "this is a very old building and it's not our building and if you get into any more trouble Isaac will get very angry with Romero."

"Hey!" the grave guardian protested. "Why me and not you?"

"Because," Kent said calmly, "I will blame you to save my own skin."

"Thanks," Romero grunted back.

I smiled at the pair. "Well we don't have to explore," I offered, "we could stay up here and talk all about the love triangle of Romero, Kent and Sebastian. Yukie, what do you think? Shall we play Cupid, get Kent to flip a coin, heads the fallen prince, tails the zombie shooter and on its side, a ménage à trois?"

"Nani?" Yukie blinked at me in confusion.

Kent gave me an angry shake even as his eyes sparkled with embarrassment. "Shut up Malk! You're a vampire now, if I throw you into a wall it won't kill you it'll just hurt a lot."

"Throw me down the stairs," I suggested, "and then we will both be happy."

"No!"

"Well then we're talking about your tragic romance," I insisted. "One dark and broody, one blonde and power hungry, I guess the real question is who did the dirty dance better Kent?"

"Whatever is down there couldn't possibly be this bad," Sebastian remarked frostily.

"I kinda have to agree," Romero said. His neck had turned crimson. "Maybe we could have a peek just to get missy to be quiet."

I nodded agreeably. "I'll be as silent as a lotto winner with an impending divorce," I vowed.

"Fine, fine, fine," Kent grumbled as he started to shove me back towards the stairs, "a quick look." He paused and glanced over his shoulder at the others. "But we're all going."

Sebastian sighed. "Can't I be left out of it?"

"It was your suggestion," Kent reminded him, "and if you went wandering alone Strauss and Isaac would lose their shit with all of us and whilst I don't care what that Camarilla dickhead thinks I care what Isaac thinks."

"And you don't want Sebastian losing another golden crown," I said happily.

"Enough," Kent grumbled. "All or none down this staircase."

"All, I'm bored," Romero answered.

Kent and I led the way down to darkness and surprises. "I feel like the man who discovered peanut butter," I said excitedly.

"Okay firstly," Kent scorned, "we're in Egypt descending down to mysteries, there are literally hundreds of instances you could've referenced to compare to this, like Howard Carter finding the tomb of Tutankhamun, and secondly, peanut butter was invented not discovered."

"So what do we look for again?" Yukie piped up.

"Dust and bones most likely," Sebastian sneered.

We all stopped just as we reached the bottom and were greeted by a distant echo of voices. We had reached a one way tunnel that had a very faint glow of torchlight in the distance.

"Here he is," a happy voice called faintly down the corridor. Faint, at first I thought it might be one of my many until it continued and I recognised the perky peals of Christabelle. "You want to hurt him here that costs extra, enough to cover for the removal of stains plus a little so we can make a profit. You have to keep it down though, voices carry in these old tunnels and we have guests for a change."

"Alright," an unfamiliar foe retorted, "I'll pay."

"Upfront," she replied sternly.

"Your prince demands a lot of coin," the voice snarled, "is he broke?"

"Not your concern, just pay, you got more gold?"

"Yes but I want him to talk."

"You can take the gag off, it was only because he wouldn't stop singing. Twenty pieces then."

"Robbery," he answered in an appalled voice.

We listened as the jingle of coin followed before the loud clack of Christabelle's feet walking off. We waited in silence, anticipating what would follow next. I felt like a spy and wondered when we should blunder forth to hear the potential villain spill the entirety of their plan for us.

"Well Domenico we finally caught up to you," the unknown male sneered.

There was the sound of spitting and then an answering slap. I tensed, this was turning into a telenova, would we soon hear excitable cries in Spanish?

"Don't worry, I brought my tools." The sound of a zip opening and then noises I could not decipher followed.

"You're just a minion," a male's voice, thick with an Italian accent, answered, "I ain't talking to you."

"Scream to me then."

I tensed at those words and shrank back into Kent finding him just as stoic as me. Together we were statue like as there was a wretched thudding sound accompanied by a squelching with painful, restrained grunts and gasps. The sounds continued, all equally horrid and mysterious and accompanied by grunts that turned into yelps and curses.

"Enough of this," Romero grumbled in a low voice.

"I agree, let's go back upstairs," Sebastian said in a voice that sounded tired rather than concerned.

"That isn't what I meant," Romero retorted. He tugged out a handgun. It wasn't the same as his still unreplaced shotgun but he was a master marksman, for him any gun would do.

Kent sighed dramatically as he pulled out his own pair of pistols. "How do you always find trouble Ariadne?" he complained.

I pulled out a dagger whilst Yukie brandished her sword. "I don't, I swear, sometimes I think someone is framing me," I protested.

"Insane," Sebastian scolded us.

I smiled at the blonde and nodded. "Intrigued too, do you think our foe has muffins?"

He looked back at me in both disgust and disbelief, uncertain how he should answer my question or if he should bother attempting an answer at all.

Kent led the way, or rather he abandoned us for the goalposts, taking off in a blur. "Fuck!" We heard his cry of horror before we even started running.

When we reached the end of the tunnel, which ended in a barred gate that Kent had forced inwards to a prison, we didn't find Kent in battle as expected. Kent was back against a wall, eyes wide as he trembled and clutched his hair with both hands whilst muttering over and over, "no, no, no, no more fucking Tzimisce, no, no, no, no."

I looked to the Tzimisce in question, unfamiliar but just as ugly as the rest of its kin. It towered at over seven feet tall, grey skinned and yellowed eyed, a marvellous monster wearing an open, khaki shirt with matching ripped trousers and little else. Its exposed skin, which was decorated with various studs and hoops, was soaked in fresh blood. In one clawed hand it held a whip that ended in three jagged, metal tipped strips, and in its other hand was a thin, cylindrical, glass tube, hollow with a sharpened end.

I looked to the Tzimisce's victim, a blood soaked Kindred in chains with three of the cylindrical items sticking out of his exposed torso, pouring thick droplets of blood from him into a waiting bowl. Blood science, the Tremere cried magic, the Tzimisce cried science, somehow one was learning whilst the other was torturing and yet they all had the cheek to call our clan the mad one.

I blinked back at the Tzimisce just in time to see the whip coming for me. It was about me tearing flesh from my face before I could react. I screamed as my eyes filled with blood as strips of skin and hair were torn away from me with the blow. Then the flesh melding starting, the Tzimisce was fast.

I jumped away, screaming and crying as I caught flashbacks of all their kind had already done to me. Like Kent I wanted no more of it!

I heard Yukie let out a brave cry before I pushed the blood from my face to see her charge. She ducked and tumbled forward in a somersault to avoid the whip. Within striking distance she rose to stab out at his torso with her sword but the blade just swiped straight through the flesh like butter leaving no wound. Yukie was then soaked by a sphere of blood as the Tzimisce retaliated.

"Can't cut it," Kent stammered, "can't kill the fuckers, can't ever kill them."

BANG! Romero shot at it with success. He showed no fear unlike Kent and I.

The Tzimisce looked down at the bullet portruding from its torso with interest before grinning. I watched in horror at the bullet popped out and went whizzing back to Romero. He tried to dodge and let out a yell of pain as the bullet caught him in his right arm. It grazed him mercifully but the blow still burned and bled.

I tried my disciplines but I was rusty, it had been too long and all I could muster was some attempt at hallucinations. The Tzimisce avoided it with ease and once again dealt me a blow with its whip. This time the jagged edges tore through my shirt to my stomach and drew fresh lines of blood there.

"Enough!" Kent snapped as he composed himself. He moved quickly, facing our foe with a snarl and using the full force of his presence to ensure the Tzimisce looked at him and only him.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Kent showered the Tzimisce in bullets causing it to stagger back with an angry hiss. It was no weak foe however and its retaliation cut right to Kent's core.

I watched in horror as Kent was showered in blood, painless to the body but to the Toreador obsessed with appearance mind it was an agony. Kent screeched and immediately starting trying to wipe himself clean of the bloodstains.

The Tzimisce gave an ugly smile as it glowered at Kent, heaving as it expelled bullets from its now wounded body slowly. They hit the floor with sudden metallic clangs but the wounds they left remained.

"Stop!" Sebastian's voice called out, firm and loud as he glared at the Tzimisce. "This is tiresome watching you prance around. Stay still." The Domination in his voice was impossible to resist, even I found it hard not to obey and it was not directed at me. He moved past the prisoner, snatched out a glass rod causing a scream of pain, and drove it without warning through the Tzimisce's throat.

The Tzimisce gargled as its head jerked back with the blow and it dropped the other rod to try and grasp at the one embedded in it.

"Sword," Sebastian commanded as he held out a hand. He used domination in his voice again, willing Yukie to him. She handed the weapon over without hesitation. He swung it hard and fast, severing the head from the Tzimisce with a surprising ease and turning it to embers and ash. He winced as the ashes smudged his skin and clothes. "Ugh, disgusting thing," he complained as he handed the sword back to Yukie.

"How the fuck did you do that so easy?" Romero demanded. He was clutching his bleeding arm with a scowl, looking annoyed rather than hurt.

Sebastian looked at him coldly as if he were a bug to be squashed. "I was in Napoleon's army you know," he bragged, "and one doesn't just get handled the title of prince, one has to earn it."

"Mary, mother and Joseph I don't owe my life to a God damn Camarilla do I?" our ungrateful prisoner moaned.

I looked to Kent as Sebastian moved to him. "It's done now poet," he said in a dismissive voice, "you can stop twitching."

"You've never suffered them," Kent hissed at him hatefully as he continued to wipe frantically at the blood, groaning as he only seemed to smear it further into his clothes. "You don't know what they can do, how bad it can get. Fuck I'm so unclean," he complained, "damn bastards, unclean again, fuck I wish I could shake it, I do but I swear I'd rather step in the sun than suffer them again."

I stepped over to Kent and reached out a hand to his right, spreading my fingers about his and steadying his hand. "I know big brother Kent," I reminded him quietly.

Kent grimaced as he nodded at me. "Yeah you do, fuck Malk I wish you didn't, I'd have spared you that, you and Abbey, shit I suffered to try and spare you both but it didn't matter, we all suffered."

I squeezed his hand gently. "We suffer and share together Kent, always together now, apart was no fun."

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a moment before nodding again. "Right, you're right, you left and it sucked, that's how you'd feel if I took a morning stroll, right?"

I nodded. "Yes, so you can't, only midnight strolls, maybe some in the sand, got to build some more castles, Charlie is only dead in the head."

"Charlie?" Romero echoed in confusion.

I shuddered at the name.

"Is anyone going to help me?" the prisoner demanded rudely. "Hey how's it going?" he quipped as Yukie peered at him inquisitively, apparently being soaked in blood didn't bother her. "Are you old enough to be viewing this?"

"Hai, I'm one and twenty."

"No way!" I exclaimed.

"Well one and twenty, I'm Dominic and I'd very much like it if someone cut me loose," the prisoner retorted. He winced. "Yeah, get these rods out too, shit I'm bleeding everywhere."

"Why should we help you?" Sebastian demanded as he folded his arms and glared at the vampire. "We don't know why you're here in the first place."

"Nice, I don't know that about you either and hey, I've gathered you're Camarilla but I'm not holding that against you."

"Actually only he is," Kent snapped as he composed himself. He moved hand in hand with me to the shackled man. His grip was firm and unwavering, his fears forgotten again. "The rest of us are Anarchs."

"Well fucking great," Dominic answered jovially, "I don't give a shit, I just want out of here."

"And what are you?" Sebastian quipped coldly as stood on my left and he flicked a scrap of ash off his right shoulder in my direction. "Giovanni I presume?"

I watched with intrigue as the ash fluttering about slowly in the air.

"How racist," Dominic scorned, "sure all the Italian vampires have to be Giovanni, couldn't be I'm a Brujah or Gangrel? You know not every Italian Kindred is Giovanni and not every Giovanni is Italian."

"Pity," I pouted as I frowned at me, "a Giovanni could raise a mummy for me." I turned from Dominic with dismay.

"Can we get out of here before some other yōkai comes?" Yukie queried wearily.

I looked past Kent to marvel at her youthful face. "It's the pigtails," I decided, "they make you look young."

She grinned at me. "Yōkai don't expect much from children."

"Anyway," Dominic interrupted loudly, "if you aren't going to let me go out of the goodness of your heart what if say I can raise a mummy for you?"

I whirled round to him and clapped my hands excitedly with a smile.

"That would make you a Giovanni then," Sebastian remarked coldly.

"Fine, fine," Dominic scorned, "I'm a fucking Giovanni, Domenico Giovanni, banned from his highness' domain all because of my name."

"Is that why you're in chains?" Kent queried curiously.

"It's why he didn't quibble about trading me off anyway," Dominic grumbled, "that and the clanless one is broke, funny how he forgets his morals when coin is involved." He paused and looked at us sharply with large eyes dark and foreboding like the hollows of a tree. "Here I rant on and you're in his citadel, you're probably friends of his right?"

"I wouldn't call anyone who deals with Tzimisce scum a friend," Kent snarled.

"Then why are you here?" Dominic pried.

"Why are you?" Sebastian retorted frostily.

"Is there a possibility of us leaving this place?" Romero quipped sardonically. "You know before someone finds us down here or the others come looking for us."

"The busty tomb raider might return," I mused.

"Who, Lara Croft?" Kent queried dubiously.

Dominic snickered. "You mean that bitch Christabelle, yeah his highness' loyal model, does anything for gold that one, I swear that's where his coin is draining too, she loves gold, like really loves it, fucked up Toreadors always overloving things."

"It's called passion," Kent snapped defensively.

Dominic looked at him and laughed. "Ah that's what you got cranky with the blood shower, you're a Toreador." His dark gaze darted over to Sebastian. "And a haughty blonde, you must be a Ventrue."

"Oh, oh, guess what I am Sherlock!" I exclaimed happily. "I like the detective games."

"Too easy," Dominic sneered, "you're a Malkavian. Probably the least favourite clan of my L.A kin right now, it was one of you helped take down the place or so I'm told."

"The burned child did it," I pouted. I huffed and glanced up at Kent. "See I am framed, always framed!" I gestured one hand to LaCroix accusingly. "He made me go."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dominic said excitedly with another grin. "Are you the Malkavian? Shit no way!" He burst into laughter before wincing and cursing as the movement caused the crude glass tubes to jiggle inside him and produce more blood droplets. "Damn good to see Bruno so weak, always hated that prick. Anyway, please, free me and I'll help out with the mummy thing."

I broke free from Kent and immediately reached for a glass tube. With some squeals and grunts I yanked them all out. The chains were another matter.

Romero sighed. "Are we really doing this?" he queried scornfully. "What are you going to do, hide him under the bed? And how is he going to feed? Don't you Italian types have a sharp bite?"

Dominic nodded. "Yep, probably best if you just help me get the hell out of this citadel."

"And then we never see you again, your debt remains unfulfilled and we have the potential wrath of the caitiff to deal with after?" Sebastian surmised sardonically.

"Well you could trust me to return and help you guys once you come out of the citadel," Dominic suggested. "I'm nice like that."

"I'm sure," Sebastian sneered.

"Don't you have your affairs to be getting on with?" Kent pried.

"Yes but my family taught me to always repay a favour," Dominic said confidently.

"What's the truth Giovanni?" Sebastian pried in a cold voice. "Do you need numbers to help you? Wary you will only get caught again or maybe you hope you can use us as a distraction should trouble befall you again."

Dominic frowned. "You know I have domination too, right? Clan trait, I might be weak and thirsty but that's not enough to fall under your control."

I was surprised at this and glanced up at Sebastian suspiciously, I hadn't even noticed his domineering attempts.

"How about we just leave you here and save ourselves any trouble?" Sebastian suggested curtly.

"I agree," Romero remarked tiredly. Seeing mine and Kent's curious stares he shrugged. "What? Can't my opinion occasionally coincide with the stuck up asshole's?"

Dominic jangled his chains impatiently. "What do I have to say here? I mean he said it, my clan have a terrifically painful bite and I do need to drink, got a lot of blood to replenish here so you can't want me to stay with you after you free me, even in good faith, I'd only fuck up and frenzy. You can't have gone to all the trouble of dusting that ugly guy just to abandon me, it's not nice and that redhead, she doesn't let me sing, she's a mean bitch. Look, you let me go from here, help me sneak out while the guards' gazes are diverted, I'll go feed and linger nearby until you come out if you want a favour repaid."

Kent frowned. "Not many ways around it, we ask his business he'll only lie."

"Just let him go," Yukie said, "undo his chains, leaving him here is cruel, even for a mobster."

"Mobster?" Dominic sneered with an incredulous look as Kent chuckled. "That is an unfair stereotype! I only had a couple of marks against my name in life you know and it wasn't for some whack job or hit or nothing like that, mobster indeed!"

"You're not like Bruno," I mused.

"Thank fuck for that."

"Look if you're letting him go I'll undo the locks," Romero offered, "but hurry up and decide."

"I want a mummy," I decided, "so set him free zombie shooter."

Romero stepped forward without waiting for Kent or Sebastian to say anything. He produced a lockpick and got to work on the cuffs.

Once freed, Dominic shrugged off his bonds and stretched out his worn limbs before extending his right hand to the grave guardian. Romero accepted it and they shook before Dominic turned his attention to me. "Alright, lead the way out then."

We headed back down the corridor and up the steps, returning to our room just as Beckett, Isaac and the others did. They were minus Ash and V.V who had hopefully gone to their quarters. Seeing us stumble up from a secret tunnel with a stranger in tow, they didn't look as curious as I'd hoped, they just looked annoyed.

"Who wants to explain?" Isaac queried testily as he folded his arms and frowned like a disappointed father.

I rushed forward to my Baron, skipping and clapping my hands with glee. "Isaac, Isaac he can get me a mummy!" I exclaimed happily.

"Get you?" Dominic remarked in protest. "Wait a sec, I said I'd raise one for you I didn't say I'd just give you one, what do you want a pet one?"

As I grasped Isaac's arms I paused and looked back to Dominic with glee and surprise. "Oh my gosh yes! A pet mummy! I'll walk it every day, I promise!"

"Kid no," Kent said flatly as he tugged off his soiled shirt and threw it in a bin of gold mesh, "you are no good with pets, how many times!" He placed his guns and a lighter down on a table and tugged off his trousers as well, apparently not caring for his audience.

"Toreador do you think we all wish to see you naked?" Strauss queried dryly.

Kent had spotted a spot on his boxers and calmly discarded them to the bin as well. Kent ignored the blood wizard and plucked up the lighter before snatching a tissue out of a waiting box. He lit the tissue and dropped it into the bin before giving a satisfied sigh. "I'm away to get washed," he announced, "then I'm going to sleep and hopefully when I wake up none of this shit will have occurred."

"And what has occurred?" Isaac demanded in a disapproving voice as he grasped my arms lightly in his hands. Perhaps the baron sensed I wanted to see if a phoenix was going to rise from the bin and the ashes of Kent's garments.

"Ask Romero, it's all his fault," Kent retorted calmly before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

"Wait a sec," Romero flustered, "it's not my fault! How am I supposed to explain this?" he snapped angrily. "I keep getting dragged into these things."

I giggled before turning a smile up at Isaac. "I found the trap door," I confessed, "and hoped for pharaoh's treasure but only a mutilating vampire and a child of fair Italia."

"I'm from New York," Dominic grumbled sullenly. "I know, I know, got the accent, I was raised in Sicily but I was still born in New York so I'm an American."

"A Giovanni," Beckett murmured.

"A mafia monster," Anatole marvelled with a smirk.

"Yeah and you're a crazy bloodsucker," Dominic retorted defensively. "Hmm wearing a cross, a Bible basher too huh, yeah stereotyping hurts don't it?" he snarled as Anatole's smirk vanished for a scowl.

"I'm more concerned about the mutilating vampire," Isaac said seriously, "does that mean Tzimisce?"

I tensed in his grasp and nodded solemnly. "Just one, Sebastian beheaded it."

"Why Sebastian I didn't know you could fight," Strauss remarked tauntingly, "I wonder how you even had a weapon."

"He took Yukie's," I explained, "but he returned it, don't worry, just borrowing."

"I feel this is all raising more questions than answers and the sun comes within the hour," Beckett commented dryly.

"Really?" Dominic remarked as he suddenly look worried. "Shit." He was looking gaunt, pale even for our kind and his wounds were still bleeding, though the blood loss was slowing.

"Problem?" Aristotle asked.

"Yeah, a few, the burning sun, my ever growing thirst thanks to that fuck downstairs, um my status as a social pariah in this place."

"You need a blood donation," Aristotle purred, "hmm but the bite of the Giovanni is rarely pleasant. Well I did see a charming young maid just moments ago. Do the Giovanni still honour the favour for a favour?"

"Yes," Dominic muttered, "you grant me a boon I owe you something in the future."

Aristotle laughed. "Such a noble notion for such a backstabbing clan. You have not evolved since your ancestors first stabbed their way to dictatorship in Rome."

"Oh sure, my ancestors," Dominic grumbled, "what about you, French is it? Your ancestors know all about killing the monarchy don't they, better than mine."

"The Queen of France she couldn't dance without her pretty head, a terrible blow it wasn't slow before she fell down dead," Aristotle murmured softly.

"The sire rhymes," I remarked, "perhaps you're not entirely hateful."

"And perhaps you'd be more grateful," Aristotle retorted heatedly.

I giggled. "Do it again!" I enthused.

Dominic's gaze darted about us again. "Awful lot of Malkavians here," he murmured dryly, "isn't that a risk?"

"Good number of Toreadors too," Romero pointed out. "Not in this room mind but trust me on that."

Dominic nodded. "Madness and poetry, how apt and just one Ventrue and one Tremere, what a bloody odd bunch. Well, get me the maid and I'll owe you a favour, preferably not another mummy, raising two would be quite draining."

Aristotle moved to obey, slipping out the main door.

"Much as I don't want you frenzying here, why are we helping you again?" Beckett queried sardonically. "Who are you?"

"Domenico Giovanni," he confessed, "and please do not ask which Giovanni I'm connected to, our blood ties are a tangled mess, even I don't know anymore who's an uncle and who's just a third cousin and who married into the family."

"You're a a thief," Beckett commented brightly, "and a skilled cartographer I'm told."

Dominic looked confused and rubbed at his ever reddening eyes wearily with both hands. His upper lip had drawn up and his fangs were exposed, the frenzy was drawing closer. "Shit, blood lust and exhaustion, I would've realised sooner otherwise. Brown hat, glasses, wolf smell, you're Beckett aren't you?"

Beckett nodded calmly in answer.

"Well I'm a treasure hunter actually," Dominic explained, "I just happen to be a big believer in finders keepers, I mean if I go to all the effort of finding and extracting the thing why shouldn't I keep it?"

"Could it be you were a prisoner for more than just being a Giovanni?" Sebastian queried sardonically.

"A prisoner?" Isaac repeated as he looked to the blonde and then the Italian sternly. "Of who, the Tzimisce?"

"Our host first," Sebastian sneered, "his Toreador assistant traded this one to the Tzimisce in exchange for gold."

"How crude," Strauss grumbled, "perhaps something worthy of you Sebastian."

"I never had dealings with Sabbat," Sebastian answered defensively.

"Look, his highness Asshole Bey does not like Giovanni," Dominic explained, "because he's a racist. More than that, he's poor and a businessman, he would trade his own mother for gold. That redheaded hussy of his is probably why he's so broke, she loves gold, she hoards it, collects it in all sorts, bars, ornaments, jewellery, coin, whatever. She traded me over to the Tzimisce on his behalf for gold and not enough of it, I was definitely worth more," he added proudly.

"How do you know what she collects?" Beckett pried.

"I just do."

"How did they find you?" Strauss queried.

"I don't know, how did you end up here? He's the prince ain't he, probably some vampire saw me and told him."

"Shiny, ancient baubles," I mused, "the golden serpent upon pharaoh's princess."

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy," Anatole accused.

"Just a sec, one, not a thief," Dominic said as he gestured to himself with one finger, "two, of course I kill, we've all done that, and three, I don't destroy the things I take, I treasure them."

"The snake sits too tight upon the red crown, it suited the princess' dark hair better," I murmured.

"Oh for fuck sake," Dominic snapped, letting out a snarl of hunger as he did. "Malkavians, you'll just bang on with that insight of yours until I give in, won't you? Fine, fine, I got some information suggesting the crown of Meretseger had become the property of a certain Toreador in this citadel. Such a valuable item isn't just worth its weight in gold, something all that stupid bitch is concerned with, but a hell of a lot more."

"Proving the existence of Meretseger for example?" Beckett piped up in his usual sceptical, sardonic manner.

"Right," Dominic enthused, "something someone would pay a lot of money for."

"So essentially," Strauss surmised, "while we were at dinner making parley with the prince you lot were setting free a prisoner who tried to rob him."

"Bingo," I answered happily.

The door opened and my sire ushered in a giggling maiden of bronze skin, olive eyes and ebony hair. She was young and pretty, a terrible waste. Dominic barely gave Aristotle time to shut the door before he pounced.

I watched in silent intrigue as Dominic tore her apart like a lion feeding on a zebra. It was messy and Aristotle's hysteria wore off almost immediately with her pain. Dominic pushed her head close to his lips and snarled in a voice deep and devilish, "be silent." The poor girl obeyed, struck dumb by dominance as the vampire tore at her painfully.

It was akin to Pisha's feedings, Dominic tore and savoured strips of flesh as she did but he was not greedy, he did not want the body, only the blood but nor was he wasteful, he would not squander the flesh he had to get past to get at the blood.

Pisha, the spider, a harmless house spider to the tarantula on my web. He hummed close, back where he belonged and yet not quite, he was still tied to this one.

"We need to sleep," Isaac instructed as the maiden died.

"And what do we do with her and him?" Romero quipped.

"Hide them both," Isaac answered wearily, "there is not much else for it."

"We will be lucky not to get staked in our sleep," Sebastian grumbled.

"Given how you reigned that is not a new hazard for you," Strauss retorted sharply.

"Always bickering," Anatole complained, "it is why we only have one king, the true king and one God, the true God, not the many princes and gods."

"Let us retire for the day then," Beckett remarked calmly.

Because the Giovanni are awesome :-) Seriously, I love gangsters and the Mafia- gangster vampires, just perfect. They also don't get a lot of love. A dialogue heavy chapter I know but I had fun writing it.