The shaking form, which might once have been a beautiful woman trembled in agony upon the butchers block, whilst M considered what instrument to next use upon her broken body. The injuries covered her skin, cuts and burns over every part, but most of all on her face, disfiguring beyond recognition until she resembled a midnight hag, instead of a Russian Princess.

[i:400e260b5e]"Enough."[/i:400e260b5e] Said Stephen quietly. [i:400e260b5e]"She knows nothing. It's not her fault. She's just delusional."[/i:400e260b5e]

Ataji didn't release his hold upon George's head, maintaining the illusion.

[i:400e260b5e]"ENOUGH![/i:400e260b5e] Shouted Stephen, smashing a fist into Ataji, throwing him backwards away from George. The Kinyonye lay quivering upon the floor, his hands outstretched as though still in touch with the twisted Ventrue's madness.

Eveshka lay unharmed on the floor of the earthen cavern, unconscious. Tromador with eyes closed as if concentrating. [i:400e260b5e]"Get me out of here."[/i:400e260b5e] He whispered in a voice only half his own, overlaid with the silken tones of M's accent.

[i:400e260b5e]"I will."[/i:400e260b5e] Replied Stephen. [i:400e260b5e]"We are returning to Switzerland. You have to answer for this George, or M or whoever you are. This was... unecessary."[/i:400e260b5e]

Stephen summoned his goblins to spirit Eveshka back to the Chateau. George and Ataji he had carried to a waiting car.

[i:400e260b5e]"Francis?"[/i:400e260b5e] He spoke into the Satphone. [i:400e260b5e]"We're pulling out. It's all gone too far. Send a standard observation unit. Oh and keep an eye on the Toreador Pandu."[/i:400e260b5e]

Was it a dream? She had visions of some mad man. She'd heard bits of his voice before coming from Tromador. Some of his actions were akin to those of a Tromador from a more tender time. Somehow he'd gotten her. Somehow he'd abducted her and entered her mind.

Eveshka sat bolt upright in her palatial bed chamber which she did not recall coming to. She looked around with eyes narrowed in anger, her hands clutched the silk sheets and knotted them. She recalled the vision again in its entirety and watched it as though an observer. The way that .. THING... kissed a trail down her neck. The only one who had ever done that was.

"Tromador," she hissed through gritted teeth.

She would have her vengeance. Somehow she would destroy him. Whether it was making him experience Final Death, or seducing him away from his little gang of Peeping Toms, and then leaving him high and dry, she would destroy him.

Eve woke up in her palatial bedchambers and saw a different Eve laying next to her. She had white hair, white skin, and a rather menacing feel to her. She was insanely beautiful though. So Eve had sex with herself before being pulled back into her world.

Eveshka heard about the Louvre explosion on AB Channel 1, France. She smirked. "That was a pretty nifty idea," she said aloud to the group of Daughters in attendance at her private pleasure palace. Eveshka looked away from the TV, she watched as the elderly Arch-Bishop of Ishtar, the former Roman Catholic Archbishop of the Diocese of Tours, was pleasured by three of Eve's Daughters. The others were copulating with mortals, vampires, bits of furniture, whatever seemed erotic at the time. Eveshka stood up, pushing aside the young woman's head who was paying homage to Eve's femininity and strode, naked over to the window.

It had been several weeks since George had violated her. She had gotten no where in her searches for him. Also, the Camarilla cronies seemed to have left her alone as well. The hunters had continued coming for a little while. Eveshka and her Daughters eviscerated them and sent one of their number back to the Society of Leopold headquarters with his compatriots in plastic wrapped styrofoam containers like so much ground beef. They seem to have gotten the point.

Eveshka got bored with all the sex, drugs, and bloodcults and headed outside. She stood in the enclosed area behind her palace in the old Roman section of Tours. She looked up at the stars and pondered her situation. Someone was after her, that was clear. Trom had been there and had suddenly left... or been yanked away. Perhaps America would be the place to go. She had been there before afterall, although she had not enjoyed the same degree of success as she had in Europe. Well, she figured it was time to go back there, go back and spread the gospel as it were.

She walked through Gate 9 at Newark International Airport in New Jersey. The looks people were giving her and her Daughters as they walked all slutily through the promenade was usually reserved for rockstars of Bon-Jovi's fame. She was met by a ghoul at the pick up area.

"Jenna!," cried Eve with a smile as she walked over to her most faithful ghoul and kissed her firmly on the lips. Jenna was excited, it'd been almost a year since she'd had her world rocked by Eve and looked forwards to tonight. Maybe film would be rolling as well. That was always fun.

The two blond women got into the back of the limosine along with one of the Daughters. The rest piled into the convoy of black H3 Hummers. Pun definately intended as far as Eve was concerned.

"So what brings you back here Mistress?" asked Jenna to an Eveshka who was already between Jenna's legs lapping at her juices and supping on the warm blood trickling out of the cut in her clitoris. Eveshka moaned a deep guttural growl in response that vibrated Jenna's sex deliciously. Jenna moaned loader and ran her fingers through Eve's long hair.

The convoy headed out across New Jersey towards Philadelphia. By the time they had reached the Crown Palace Hotel, Eveshka had finished pleasuring/feeding on Jenna and had talked to her about her latest idea. She wanted a new blood cult based around music. She wasn't sure yet what genre. Her gut told her that the Goth/Industrial days were over. Perhaps she'd try her hand at the sexually suggestive beats of pop. They thought that Shakira and J. Lo. were hotties..... they'd never seen Eveshka shake her thing.