Karrde drove his truck to the Continental Life building and found that his name was on the 'approved guest' list for the underground secure parking garage. The doorman gave him a pass-key to use in the elevator to get to the penthouse.
A few years ago, the Continental was something of an embarrassment for the city. The building had been renovated from top to bottom, though, and was the centerpiece of a resurgent spirit in the neighborhood.
"Welcome into my home, Michael Karrde," came a soft yet sonorous voice as the elevator opened.
Karrde saw a living space transported straight out of Feudal Japan: paper and slat walls, minimal furniture, polished bamboo floors, and a mat just off to the right of the elevator for shoes.
Thanks a ton for the warning, Nicky, Karrde thought.
All of the observations were made in the back of his mind, though, because in the center of the sweeping living room was a smaller man. He wasn't Asian, but he was dressed in traditional Japanese garb; forest green uwagi, a darker green zubon with silver dragons, and a black obi belt. Hands behind his back, Geier was the picture of serenity and calm wrapped around a powerful center of energy.
Karrde removed his boots before doing anything else, then turned to the Prince and gave a formal bow, not as a subservient to a superior, but as to a respected elder.
"Ah, Mr. Karrde, we're not nearly so formal," Geier said, though he did return the bow as dictated by courtesy. "Please come in, have a drink. I'm having tea, but I have sake, scotch, or whatever you'd like."
"I'll have a soda, please," Karrde said, stepping down into the conversation area. "I'm likely to be working soon and want to keep my edge honed. Excuse me for saying, sir, but you're not at all what I expected. You're more…"
"Civilized?" Geier said with a grin.
"I was going to say 'calm,' but yeah."
"I know, I know. Gangrel are supposed to be slathering wildmen, barely able to be brought out in public. Nearly as reprehensible as a Garou." He laughed.
"I suppose I get taken by stereotypes as much as the next man. Apologies if I offended."
"No, no. That is one stereotype that's honestly earned. What you see of me is fairly new. I had to find a way to reign myself in after I killed my second Primogen over a fairly minor failure. It was either that, or I'd have ended up with an uprising on my hands."
Karrde took a sip of his soda, seeing the opening and trying to find the right way of phrasing it.
"Sir, I have it from a trusted source that you may have something like that happening right now."
"Really?" the Prince said, sitting back on the low sofa.
"I have a contact here who's let me know that your Tremere Primogen is the one who kidnapped my wife. I haven't been able to figure out why, yet, but I know Alyxandra was recently moved from a Kirkwood home. I haven't found out where yet."
"Hmm," Geier said, contemplating. "Nicky is better informed than I thought. Oh, don't give me that look. Slick Nicky was a friend of mine when I was just a punk Gangrel on the street. As Prince, I have to know who's operating in my town. It didn't take more than a few bottles of Jack Daniels with 'my old pal' to learn he's a Kin of your tribe. I've got a few contacts that know him, so information he gathers comes to me, too. As long as he's just gathering information, he's no threat to me.
"But why Deevers? Cynthia Deevers was one of the first Primogen to support me as Prince. Why would she do something that could start a war?"
"I plan to ask her once I find her."
"I may know where that will be, but it will have to wait until tomorrow night, because I'm going with you." Geier laid out his theory. Even though he'd said he wouldn't, Karrde called Nicky to point him to the trail. Hopefully, by the next evening, they'd know for certain and be ready to move.