(([b:df78fe0793]OOC[/b:df78fe0793] Sorry, dude! Still out of the running ATM. Been sleeping a lot to make up for the misery of the past week. Haven't had this rough a time in quite a long while. Beautiful job! I'll make it all up later, I promise! :D )

[i:3781c43033]"Julius Darrant, whom even the stars obey."[/i:3781c43033] Echoed Julius. [i:3781c43033]"I could learn to live with that."[/i:3781c43033]

Baba Yaga started laughing hysterically, which degenerated into a coughing fit and sprayed flecks of yellowish brown sputem over Julius' fine suit. Julius looked vaguely repulsed, but said nothing. [i:3781c43033]"Think you're important, all of a sudden. Special, are you?"[/i:3781c43033]

[i:3781c43033]"Well, you said..."[/i:3781c43033] Began Julius in protest.

[i:3781c43033]"When the stars spell your name in the heavens, then I'll be impressed, wizard."[/i:3781c43033] Snorted the hag. [i:3781c43033]"Meantime, understand this. The stars tell all tales. Scurrying about like mice on the printing press of the sky. For you, Baba Yaga and all those who walk upon the earth, even that useless piece of sculpture you've spent so many eons with."[/i:3781c43033]

[i:3781c43033]"Build me up then strike me down is it?"[/i:3781c43033]

[i:3781c43033]"I wanted to see how big your ego was, young one. About the size of the universe, perhaps that's why you carry that case, maybe your ego is in there, some wizardly pan-dimensional bag for the carrying of a mage's puffed up sense of self importance."[/i:3781c43033] Baba Yaga seemed to think this concept incredibly funny and collapsed in fits of girlish giggles. On even a plain girl, this might have been cute, but on the horrific visage of the ultimate Nosferatu, it simply made Julius stomach churn.

[i:3781c43033]"We've travelled a long way together, this skull and I. You understand it is one of the artifacts of the Order of Hermes?"[/i:3781c43033] Said Julius trying to get the conversation back on track.

[i:3781c43033]"Of course I know what it is!"[/i:3781c43033] Snapped Baba Yaga. [i:3781c43033]"Why do you think I want the thing. Ancient secrets..."[/i:3781c43033] She paused, then spoke with obvious relish, rolling the words about her slime ridden maw. [i:3781c43033]"...Tremere secrets."[/i:3781c43033]

[i:3781c43033]"I can see my popularity in the old House and Clan rising steadily with each step I take. It might be worth it just to annoy them."[/i:3781c43033] Mused Julius. The hag's grotesque claw of a hand started stretching towards his bag. [i:3781c43033]"Not so fast!"[/i:3781c43033] Snapped Julius, snatching the bag away. [i:3781c43033]"How do I know I can trust you?"[/i:3781c43033]

[i:3781c43033]"You don't. You'll never get out of..."[/i:3781c43033] Baba Yaga made a gesture encompassing the war zone that was Stalingrad. [i:3781c43033]"...this... without my help though. So that skull will not be of any use to you anyway. Take a leap of faith, Julius Darrant. Remember Eden and believe."[/i:3781c43033]

Julius thought for a moment. The vision of Eden swept through his memory, the waterfall and the words he had heard, give it all up, he had been instructed. Perhaps this was the start of the sacrifices he had been asked to make. [i:3781c43033]"Very well, little Grandmother. Take the skull and teach me well."[/i:3781c43033] He said, as he handed over his most prized possession.

The gesture's intent was to uphold the illusion of being in some form of a relationship with the old woman, but Gabriel could detect the slightest bit of satisfaction from the Tzimisce as he gently took her hand and assisted her from the back seat of the car. However, from the front seat, waves of fresh relief poured from the noticably sweaty driver as this evening's troubles were now exiting the car and consequently his life.

Gabriel relished in that relief when he leaned in close to the window and whispered,

[i:eec9d74f72]"A bit of translation may be in order this evening. I'll ask you to park the car and meet us inside."[/i:eec9d74f72]

The driver nodded and pulled off the curb shakily, remerging into the evening's traffic. The smug Ventrue's pleasure in torturing the unwitting mortal was only dampened by the searing pain that shot through his shattered shoulder, nearly causing his to react physically in such a public setting. The rules of his clan firmly imbedded, he merely made a mental note to inspect the healed wound closely when in solitude and took Cyrilynn's arm in walking towards the museum's entrance.

The building itself was an admirable one, with great columns erupting from the ground and hoisting the roof towards the sky. White steps stretched out, and Gabriel had the vague sense of being placed within another time. Tapestries too, proudly announcing in Greek the latest exhibits, in bold powerful colors and almost over the top splendor.

His silent companion gave a slight tug, eager to start the night's work. They walked without further hesitation into the museum's interior. In the lobby, the Ventrue historian took particular delight in examining, inspecting, and when possible prodding the ancient artifacts that were clearly meant to capture the newly arrived patron's attention. His Tzimisce counterpart, although clearly sharing his interest in the relics, waited impatiently for their translator.

No sooner had he arrived, mortally flushed from the jog from the parking garage, did the trio head off in search of the Delphi exhibit, passing through several pairs of onlooking guards to do so.

The exhibition did not disappoint however, as they looked upon Python's jewelry, their every move carefully monitored. Glistening bits of stone and metal twinkled attractively from beneath the glass cases, and even Gabriel for all his net worth, found it difficult to resist the temptation to utilize his Cainite powers to the fullest and escape with such prizes of the ancient world.

He suspected his partner's desire was worse however, but was suprised to see not longing across her face but confusion. She turned and leaned in towards him.

[i:eec9d74f72]"There are several pieces missing."[/i:eec9d74f72] she whispered.

[i:eec9d74f72]"Are you certain?"[/i:eec9d74f72] Gabriel replied, still not ready to give much credit to her 'visions'.

[i:eec9d74f72]"Absolutely. We must speak with..."[/i:eec9d74f72] raucous laughter drowned out their conversation, and drew both's Kindreds paranoid glances. Behind them, emerging from the entrance hallway, two men and a group full of photographer's appeared.

The gentlemen, dressed in dark suits continually smiled and shook hands, speaking cheerfully in Greek to one another. Gabriel's retainer watched them and gave occasional translation notes.

[i:eec9d74f72]"The tall one there is the curator."[/i:eec9d74f72] he whispered, motioning to the more formidable of the pair. Dark hair framed an olive face with brown eyes that held a keen intelligence within them. He smiled graciously to his shorter companion, a stout man with a particularly yellow smile. [i:eec9d74f72]"The other is a private investor, here to view the new exhibit."[/i:eec9d74f72]

The trio tailed the group as they made their way about the museum, snapping publicity photos and repeatedly shaking hands. Finally, the investor and reporters slipped away, as did most of the museum's patrons and the guards began their final sweep of the rooms. Obviously weary, the curator walked towards his office, undoubtedly ready to finish up whatever paper work this evening had produced.

Gabriel, Cyrilynn, and their translator intercepted him on the way, the latter introducing the former as American tourists who were particularly taken by the Delphi Exhibit.

[i:eec9d74f72]"He says he is pleased that you enjoyed the pieces, but regrets being too busy to talk right now."[/i:eec9d74f72] the squat translator said. Gabriel, seeing their prey was going to resist such honest conversation, began to emit a fraction of Presence. He watched the curator carefully as he instructed their driver to relate a falsified story about the duo's personal trip to the Oracle.

The curator visably relaxed, his hand sliding into his trouser pocket in a sign of comfort. The Ventrue was careful not to influence the man too much, so as not to raise his suspicion once he was out of the Kindred's powers. He would not act quesitonably, but perhaps simply be somewhat surprised at his own frankness in dealing with two American tourists.

As they probed cautiously, the curator eventually spilled the story of the missing pieces. Apparently, several valuable artifacts were taken while en route to the museum. The guards reported dark skinned men appearing seemingly from nowhere and vanishing just as quickly. Finally, seeing his oppurtunity, Gabriel took complete control of the man and collected the names of the guards as well as the detective working the case.

Knowing that gleaning of such information would surely baffle the curator later, Gabriel wiped his memory of the final two minutes of their conversation and replaced it with a pleasant discussion of Greek weather and history, followed by a polite goodbye.

Cyrilynn and Gabriel emerged from the hotel, the latter glad to have shown the former some extent and usefullness of his powers.

Kaniel smiled warmly. The flush of warmth, however false made his fingers seek out the bridge of his nose. He scratched it playfully, as his ears soaked in Serai’s words.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Of course! I never like to overindulge potential clients, or should I say friends? Call this a starter. My warehouse, well it's more of a room in my mansion, holds much more. And then of course there are those items awaiting “acquisition”.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

As he spoke, his eyes shone over the brim of his glass. He sipped slowly, savouring as well as tolerating the taste. His eyes shining like twinned watchtowers in the low light.

Serai's face lit up like a Christmas tree as she heard the news she had hoped for. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Of course, how remiss of me to slight you so!”[/i:01c50ab7e5] Then faded into a pensive expression as she gave thought to her itinerary.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“However, I will have to rearrange my schedule for viewing, if tomorrow is not too soon for us to go over your wares?”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She glanced at him from under long black lashes with a questioning look.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Tomorrow would be fine. I'm staying at home for a few more days before I go overseas, to Paris actually.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Fair enough. This will give me some time to settle affairs at the estate. I would like to inquire as to whether or not you might have any bows or crossbows in your collection? They are a particular favourite of mine, besides being a passion and a hobby.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] Her eyes sparkled just before she lowered them in modesty. [i:01c50ab7e5]“I'm considered a fair bowyer.”

“Bows?”[/i:01c50ab7e5] He spoke with a slightly surprised tone. His brow seemed to darken as he did.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“I must say I prefer swords myself, but I seem to recall I do own a small selection of bows. In fact I just recently acquired a Japanese Longbow a few days ago.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Serai's lips parted slightly in a breathless wonderment. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Japanese, you say?”[/i:01c50ab7e5] Realizing her apparent covetousness was not conducive to good bartering, she unhurriedly closed her mouth and sat back as a calculating flash lit the back drop of those brown orbs. She gave him another direct gaze and stated. [i:01c50ab7e5]“I'm unquestionably looking forward to it then.” [/i:01c50ab7e5] She picked up her wine glass and took a large swallow of wine, throat suddenly gone dry with trepidation at her blatant faux pas.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Yes. It's quite ancient or so I was led to believe. It checks out however. It was used by a Samurai called Hamato Edo. He is said to have died honourably, a Ronin, after avenging his Lord's murder.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] Kaniel / Alekz spoke with a reserved tone, as though reading from some sacrilegious text. However, he sprinkled the story with his own touches of drama.

Avidity flared, yet again, in the young woman's features and just as quickly gave way to a misty visage as she sighed in an abstracted way. [i:01c50ab7e5]“I adore the stories that accompany many of the items my patron and I have collected over the years.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She looked into her almost empty glass but didn't really see the emptiness of it, only the scene's in her mind's eye.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“The story was quite tragic. But very heroic. Edo was cast out by an enemy warlord who had killed his master. So, determined to recover his lost honour, he posed as a drunk for many months before the time was right. Then he struck, killing they say, a dozen Samurai in single combat, before finally putting his enemy to his death. Thus satisfied, Edo committed Seppu-Ku."[/i:01c50ab7e5] He looked at her as he ended the story, his final words accompanied by a questioning look. [i:01c50ab7e5]"Ritual disembowelment?”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Cyrilynn's assistant propped her hand on her chin, elbow supported by the table and listened raptly as she sipped again at her now refilled glass. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Yes, I am familiar with Seppu-Ku.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She absentmindedly answered his question as she awaited the ending.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“And died honouring his true Lord.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

“Angelique's” eyelashes look suspiciously dewy with unshed tears as she sat up and begin rummaging for a hanky in her handbag. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Such a stirring tale, Mr. Kaniel!”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She withdrew the cloth and her mirrored compact as she touched up her makeup, meanwhile surreptiously dabbing at her eyes. [i:01c50ab7e5]“IF this bow is as authentic as it is claimed to be, I am eager to acquire it, as much as I look forward to trying it out.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She indulged in another healthy sip of her drink, which helped her to steady herself and then asked briskly, [i:01c50ab7e5]“Is it in usable condition, or has time taken it's toll?”

“The spine of the piece is in exquisite condition.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

There was a quiet gasp of approbation from his dinner partner.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“The bowstring is in good repair considering it was used by such an illustrious warrior. I even managed to secure a number of the original arrowheads, though sadly the quiver was destroyed by the passing years.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] Kaniel / Alekz looked down at his glass. A sombre expression flooding his features.

Serai hummed her own sorrow, picking up her glass to toy with it, then turning to scan the now crowded dining area.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“But yes, I'm sure you'll enjoy it all the same.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Turning back to her host, “Angelique” decided it was time to begin “softening up” her prospective factor in order to get the best out of their negotiations. [i:01c50ab7e5]“I suspect you're likely to be right, my dear sir! I would wish the night over with quickly so that I could see this wonder, were it not for the joy of your company. My patron is sure to be interested in the sword, so......”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She cast him an sincere air but was tumbled speechless at his next words.

Kaniel / Alekz blushed. However insincere the embarrassment was, the effect proved successful. Serai’s eyes seemed to glitter with satisfaction. Her web set with dewy pearls.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“My dear, it is too long since I've heard such a woman as you speak so fondly of me. It does an old man good to hear the words, even if they're just for politeness sake.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] He lowered his voice just as his lips curled into a warm, inviting smile. A faint trace of cheekiness underlying the curve of his weathered mouth.

The Jews words found purchase on a parched ground amongst the seed of Serai's jealousy and applied a balm she wasn't even aware of needing. She reached out and patted the back of his hand in a friendly tap, all pretences and ritual bartering techniques having suddenly flown out the window in a sudden sweep of affection for the old man.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“It's not just politeness, my charming cavalier. You are a balm to my eyes, ears and heart and your stories fascinate me. I am looking forward to your dissertations on the items you have managed to procure. And, I have had a much more pleasant evening with a gentleman like you, than I have had from many of my swains over the last several years.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] The ghoul was shocked to find that she truly meant each word. She drained the last of her beverage and luxuriated in the warm glow it, and her words to Kaniel, spread on it's way to her stomach..

He clasped his calloused hands over her own slender one. [i:01c50ab7e5] “Well you have made my heart sing. Say, shall we escape the formality of the table and retreat to the lounge?”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

He nodded towards an impressively understated “lounge” area. It was overlooked by a vast panoramic window. Drizzle cascading down it, giving the interior an almost submarine feel.

Elated at the thought of the extending their pleasant acquaintanceship, and of exchanging the noisy atmosphere of the dining area for that of the murmur of the dimly lit club, she agreed readily. [i:01c50ab7e5]“I would be honoured to be your escort there, yes. I'm not quite tired enough to call it a day and I'm sure you have many more tales to tell these ears of mine!”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She twinkled at him.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Very well then. May I?”[/i:01c50ab7e5] He offered his arm. May as well continue the masquerade of gentleman, Alekz thought.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Certainly.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She replied as the merchant came to her side and held her chair while she stood, then offered his arm. She wrapped both her arms warmly around it and leaned a bit into him in a comforting pose of amiability.

They walked then to a low-slung table. His eyes beaming as she strode proudly arm in arm with him.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“So? Your patron? What is it that he/she does?”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Having had that question asked before, it took no great effort for the glib answer to roll off her tongue, which was beginning to feel a bit numb. [i:01c50ab7e5] “Yes, she is a lady of great wealth, very retired. But at one point, she toured the orient and took a liking to all things ancient and historical. Which most of falls upon weapons of the older eras. When her husband died and left her a fortune, she took to acquiring those that she found unusual and distinctive. I think, maybe, that bronze sword will interest her very much.” [/i:01c50ab7e5]

Her voice took on a distracted air as if considering her lady's preferences.

Alekz thought for a moment, before selecting something she might find endearingly eccentric.
[i:01c50ab7e5]“Hubert?”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Astounded and amused, "Angelique's jaw dropped and she gurgled in glee. [i:01c50ab7e5]“You've, named it!??”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Sorry, I like to give my collections silly names other than their actual titles. It makes [b:01c50ab7e5]me[/b:01c50ab7e5] laugh at least.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Serai couldn't help the further giggles that threatened to escape in to a fully grown laugh so she grabbed up her fresh glass of the newly opened bottle and gave a toast. [i:01c50ab7e5]“To Hubert.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] And took a gulp before looking at Kaniel askance. [i:01c50ab7e5]“I used to do that too, name things.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] Then her face turned lost. [i:01c50ab7e5] “But stopped doing it when matters became practical.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] A melancholy spread over her and she looked on the verge of tears but recovered rapidly with another, smaller sip from the rim of her stemware.

Alekz paid careful attention to her as she described her employer in greater detail. Inside the guise of the old jew, his skin crackled silently as his mind recorded [b:01c50ab7e5]everything[/b:01c50ab7e5].
[i:01c50ab7e5]“A Lady you say? Of Noble birth then?”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

It trickled into Serai's awareness that she was, perhaps, saying too much and she collected her scattering faculties. That this old man had the effect of making her relax far beyond her normal capacities was astounding, yet she couldn't find anything other than what he was. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Yes, she's a lady. I won't mention whom, without her permission, but if our relationship progresses as I expect it will, you will have the honour of meeting her yourself, if you're of a mind. She doesn't leave the estate very often.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] Her tones were very apologetic.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Then I would have to say, I hope our relationship progresses. She sounds a remarkable woman. And she has exquisite taste to have chosen you as her companion “[/i:01c50ab7e5]

He could actually sense the strength of Serai’s love for her ladyship.

In one suspended moment in time, the ghoul's eyes held in them all the desire and love for her mistress that had been harboured there for nearly a century. She replied in a hushed timbre, [i:01c50ab7e5]“Yes, she is. I owe her everything......all that I am today. She has been good to me.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She hung her head in abject apology for being such a sham.

He leaned forward, adopting an almost grandfatherly stance.
[i:01c50ab7e5]“My dearest Angelique. Something tells me, your Lady simply polished the gold that was already there.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

A blush spread from the decolletage of the young woman's dress to the roots of her forehead, unbeknowst her. [i:01c50ab7e5]“That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me in a long time, Abram. OH!”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She covered her lip with those perfectly polished and creamed hands in confused awkwardness. [i:01c50ab7e5]“May I call you Abram? I don't wish to be presumptuous!”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

He returned to the “endearing old eccentric" behaviour that had worked so well previously.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“I'd rather you called me Abram than Sausage.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

A silvery laugh burst from "Angelique's" throat as the image of a sausage was superimposed on the jovial features of her escort. “Sausage??!!??” She giggled with carefree abandon in an sudden about-face in her mood. She saluted this second sobriquet with another toast, quickly drained.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“My father used to say that. He was a kook.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]
He chuckled lightly before adding, [i:01c50ab7e5]“A cook. Get it?”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Still giggling girlishly, Serai gave a groan of her own. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Oh, I see! Well, your father might have had a great sense of humour, but truly, I think Abram is more fitted to your distinguished looks.”

“Only the young see grey as distinguished. To me I'm just an old Gentile.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

The young woman leaned over and whispered as close to his ear as she could get. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Well, I happen to be [b:01c50ab7e5]quite[/b:01c50ab7e5] fond of silver haired gentlemen. They are my particular favourites, you see. Always have been.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

She settled back in her seat, an assured gleam in her eyes.

He feigned, again, an embarrassed choke. Followed cleverly by a well placed blush of his wrinkled face.
[i:01c50ab7e5]“Ahh yes. Well, quite.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

She confided in him with a gleam in her eye. Then she leaned back in her chair, almost losing her balance but righting herself just in time.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“You know. You are an uncommonly beautiful young lady. In both what you have to say. How you say IT. And in the way your soul presents itself. This is the most fun I've had, oh in many years.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Serai blushed again and stammered, [i:01c50ab7e5]“Well, I have to admit that I owe it all to Cyril.......Oh!”[/i:01c50ab7e5] A hiccup covered the grievous error she'd almost made. She hoped he'd missed it entirely. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Um.....my patron. She had me taught everything a lady of the classes should know.........” [/i:01c50ab7e5]

The name was instantly memorised. He’d search for a match once in his haven.
[i:01c50ab7e5]“Like I said,”[/i:01c50ab7e5] he stopped her in mid sentence, smiling paternally,
[i:01c50ab7e5]“she only polished what was already there. You are a woman of exception."[/i:01c50ab7e5]

A hefty swallow of her wine, again, and she was able to utter a heartfelt “Thank you.” before she looked demurely down to the table top, to place her glass upon it with infinite care and to hide the flush of pleasure his words had given her. Oh, if only he were a younger man, she could easily have fallen in love with him!!

[i:01c50ab7e5]“No need to be embarrassed, Angelique. May I call you Angel? It seems to suit you.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

My, she thought, he was assuredly one of the easiest people she'd ever had to deal with and he was such a wonderful gentleman. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Of course, if it pleases you.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She smiled tenderly at him and then suddenly remembered that she had yet to make another date with him. With a stiff upper lip, that she'd plastered to her face in an effort to be businesslike, she queried, [i:01c50ab7e5]“Now, about tomorrow?”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

He smiled, hiding his true thoughts under a mask of social disappointment. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Yes of course. Well my estate....Are you aware of the Vauntmere Estate?”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Bits and pieces of data flowed across her countenance as she struggled to flog an alcohol drenched brain to find the answer the to question. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Um......that rings a bell with me, but I can't put my finger on why it does.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] As the information continued to elude her, her expression became more and more distressed. [i:01c50ab7e5]“I should know this!”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She hissed in frustration.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Hey there. No need to fret!”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

Serai gave up with a sigh of defeat.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“I'll have my man, Cromwell, call you in the morning with directions.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

"Angelique" started to chuckle, [i:01c50ab7e5]“Oh no! Not another named item! You have a butler named Cromwell? Oh, that's just too rich!!”[/i:01c50ab7e5] And she set off again in small peals of joyousness.

[i:01c50ab7e5]"Oh, I have a flair for the dramatic my dear.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] He tapped her arm. [i:01c50ab7e5]“Now, that aside. How does afternoon tea sound? Followed by an extensive tour of my "library"?” [/i:01c50ab7e5]

The young woman sobered a little and intoned, [i:01c50ab7e5]“Tomorrow afternoon will be fine. I will need some time to see to my other affairs but they will be dealt with in short time. And, I look forward to your............ “book“...... collection.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] She tossed him a quirk from her lips.

He smiled victorious. The desire to know her truths proved too great.
[i:01c50ab7e5]“Great! Well if you're to be up and about, it might be wise, if no fun, to retire for the night.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]


Nodding in accordance, if a bit dreamily, she stood up and the sudden raise in elevation made her head spin. She stumbled slightly before Kaniel caught her elbow. That steadied the room and she inclined her head in solemn gratefulness.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Allow me?”[/i:01c50ab7e5] He awaited her nod to the affirm.
[i:01c50ab7e5]“I'll have a cab collect you. But first. Let's get you to the door.”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

The now thoroughly tipsy girl chuckled at her own private joke as they exited the restaurant. [i:01c50ab7e5]“No need for a cab, dearheart, my limush..um....linosh....um, private car with appropriate driver is waiting for me. We jush need to shummon the him.”[/i:01c50ab7e5] Serai's balance tipped once more and she leaned somewhat harder on her escort.

[i:01c50ab7e5]"His name wouldn't be Sean by any chance?"[/i:01c50ab7e5]

The bubbles of laughter were coming more frequently now and were much harder to suppress, not that the ghoul tried hard. [i:01c50ab7e5]"You know, I don know..... you can ashk him yourself when he comsssh to get me."[/i:01c50ab7e5] That set off a new round of burbles.

[i:01c50ab7e5]“Then let's get you to your carriage m'lady!”[/i:01c50ab7e5]

“Angel” smiled fondly at the old man and gazed at him in a bemused way. “OK” She assented then leaned over, nearly toppling him, and brushed a generous kiss across his weathered cheek. She really liked this Jewish man. [b:01c50ab7e5]A lot.[/b:01c50ab7e5]

Alekz waited for her car to arrive. Against his better judgement he found this woman enticing. He waved goodbye as she was borne away into the night. The rain trickling down onto his wigged head. He tapped a touch-screen panel on his cell-phone, sending an invisible signal to a car parked out of sight down an alleyway. There was a rumble like distant thunder as the car’s V10 engine growled to life. Rolling forward and tracing the transponder signal in his cell before stopping beside him.

nerov grinned evily.
[i:7b1698f15e]" and you are certain that they are together, as a couple?"[/i:7b1698f15e]

Nerov listened as the kine relayed exactly what had happened, although kine's instincts weren't always to be relied on it was enough for him to pass on to kathy....and then....just maybe....he would stand a chance of wrenching her from gabriel's clutches.

[i:7b1698f15e]" You will be rewarded for your information, as per usual method"[/i:7b1698f15e]

A click off the phone broke the conversation and nerov leaned back in the chair and laughed loudly.

[i:7b1698f15e]" Oh gabriel.....you make things far too easy for me,let's see who wins the jewel in the end shall we....ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh kathy my sweetness"[/i:7b1698f15e] Nerov closed his eyes and sought refuge in kathy's dreams.....or nightmares.

The best part of tea-time ritual is that the English don't hold it at precisely noon. An afternoon tea is generally held somewhere between luncheon and supper and is considered more of a social gathering than that of the American colloquial of a "snack time". Working for Lady Cyrilynn as her personal assistant had taught Serai to catch sleep where and when she could and her body had learned to make the most of what rest she got.

Considering that most of the ghoul's waking hours were in the late evening to the wee hours of the morning, it was a rare occassion that she was up before the bells of the local churches tolled the mid-day hour. This "morning" was an exception to her daily routine as the phone jangled it's way into her consciousness at 10am. She came awake instantly and clearly, answering the wake up summons on the other end of the line. She dropped the receiver into it's cradle, after ordering a light repast, and headed for the shower.

The cascade of steaming water down the length of her body washed away any lingering effects of her dreamless sleep. What was left were bits and pieces of last nights conversation and, she hoped, those were the important parts. Granted she'd been a bit tipsy (alright! she'd been [b:426fde01df]a lot[/b:426fde01df] tipsy) but her mind still operated on the automatic track that her mistress had drilled into her.

The things that stuck the most with her, was the picture of that sword (for Cyrilynn), the vague reference to Kaniel's estate (Vant..... no..... Vaunt ....Vauntmere, wasn't it?) and the bow she knew she would be buying (no matter what it's condition!). But overlaying it all was the presence of Abram Kaniel himself. That sweet, wonderful, old Jewish man.

There were rarer sections of her memory that stood out in absolute clarity and this merchant was one of them. Her remembrance of him was a jovial, wrinkled face that smiled in a grandfatherly fashion from behind wire-rimmed glasses that couldn't hide the crows feet or the twinkling of his eyes. Nor could it detract from his sweet benevolent smile. And his gnarled hands had held hers often, with aged privilege.

The young woman gave a regretful sigh at the gulf of time that separated them. Had he been a younger man, it wouldn't have taken much for her to fall in lust with him. She [b:426fde01df]so[/b:426fde01df] loved courtly manners. But all Kaniel roused in her now was an overlying urge to protect and cherish this ancient gentleman that could have been, with the right circumstances, her own blood relative. She'd never had the pleasure of a grandfather in her long life.

Serai stepped from the shower and dried herself with the monstrous towel provided, then stepped back into the bedroom of her suite with it wrapped around her. She dressed herself back into the bodystocking with wrap-around skirt that she'd first worn to meet her new factor in, it being the only other outfit she'd come to London with. It still carried the smell of the fresh laundering the hotel had given it at her request.

Her musings were cut short with another insistant jingle from the telephone on the bedside table. Curiosity as to the caller had her picking it up quickly. [i:426fde01df]"Hello, Angelique speaking."[/i:426fde01df] The voice from the other end was exactly as she'd expected it to be, ponderous and stately. [i:426fde01df]"Madam, this is Cromwell, Mr. Kaniel's man of affairs. I was asked to give you his direction and instructions on how to reach the manor. Mr. Abrams hopes that you had a pleasant repose and looks forward to your visit."[/i:426fde01df].

The young woman barely suppressed a rising giggle at the correctness of it all. [i:426fde01df]"Oh, I'm quite refreshed, Thank You. Please inform Mr. Kaniel that I am anticipating my meeting with him......"[/i:426fde01df] She couldn't resist the addition, [i:426fde01df]"....and that I never have hangovers."[/i:426fde01df] This time the chuckle escaped but, Cromwell, the epitome of a domestic, never wavered in his speech. [i:426fde01df]"Very well, Miss Angel. Here is the address and instruction on how to reach Mr. Kaniel's home."[/i:426fde01df] There was a flurry of information exchanged before she hung up again.

It shocked the ghoul to realize that Abram's mansion was a "neighbor" of Lady Strathsboroughs!! Granted that Leiston was still considered a small burg by modern day standards but, even with the condos and apartments that had sprung up through the area over the years, many of the larger demenses remained. Safe and isolated from the common realm with fences, trained guard dogs and security measures.

All this time and she'd never even known who owned the place, let alone [b:426fde01df]whom[/b:426fde01df] owned the place! Knowing now, how close it was, she was pleased to give room to the thought of making some personal time to call on Mr. Abram Kaniel occassionally, after their business was concluded. Just to see how he got on, she promised herself. Her misty-eyed look belied the fact that this man had, for reasons she couldn't even begin to fathom, come to mean a great deal to her.

The hag was cantankerous, annoying, hideous and bad tempered. She was also a fine tutor. For the past few days, Julius had been watching her closely. Most of that time had consisted of the rather unpleasant sight of her feasting upon dying soldiers, who, stuck in the moment she had created, an eternally looping pocket of time, would then rise as zombies and head back into the fray. Each day seemed to last eternity as Baba Yaga would maintain her control of the passing seconds by will alone. Only when the supply of flesh dwindled would she allow the day to pass, a new day bringing fresh meat to her grisly feast. It was not a power of magic, per se, but rather an exercise in sheer bloody mindedness. This was appropriate, for the Little Grandmother had one of the bloodiest minds Julius had ever observed.

[i:b008ab0166]"Now you."[/i:b008ab0166] Instructed Baba Yaga, sitting on the steps of her chicken legged hut. [i:b008ab0166]"Press your will upon the moment, hold it in your hands and keep it from progressing."[/i:b008ab0166]

Julius mouthed a simple cantrip, one of the first exercises he had mastered in the time before his embrace, when he had been learning the basics of his craft. A simple technique for focusing the mind, a necessary skill for the use of the higher art. As he grasped the moment, he could feel time pressing against him, it's inexorable plodding pushing at his will. He visualised it as a great wave, washing against a sturdy wall. The wave battered against his wall, nature's most basic law against the determination of a great wizard. Time could never be defeated, eventually the waves would wash away any wall, but for a time, whatever that word meant, in this situation, Julius could stand against it's flow.

Baba Yaga nodded. [i:b008ab0166]"Now let the moment pass, quickly, into the morrow. As you observe it's flow, look into the stream of time, look back at what has been, look forward into the fluidity of maybe. Look for Julius, know thyself, wizard."[/i:b008ab0166]

Julius poked a few mental holes into the wall he had imagined and the flow of time raged through like a torrent. He envisaged himself standing behind the wall, the wash of eternity flowing around him. The future a madness of glimpsed possibilities, unfathomable, a flurry of emotion and undecided fate. The present a cold battlefield, full of blood and pain.

The past. Julius' past. Stretching back, back beyond the moment of his birth and each birth before then. Triggered by his action, a cascade of unbidden memories engulfed his mind. Past life before past life before past life, each screaming into his consciousness, telling of the path his soul had taken. The power he gained in this life a mirror to all he had learned and done over the millenia. At once he was a citizen in Enoch, Merlin to Arthur's court, Boyar of Pskov, lifetime after lifetime, pouring knowledge and recollection into his struggling and overtaxed brain. With a noise somewhere between a gasp and a scream, Julius allowed his wall to fall and time raced through uncontained. Clouds flew across the sky as the sun rose and fell in seconds, to be replaced by the moon and comforting still night.

Baba Yaga waited patiently. It was, as she perceived it, some hours before Julius spoke and when he did, it was with the knowledge and wisdom of eternity. [i:b008ab0166]"I remember."[/i:b008ab0166] He said, simply.

[i:b008ab0166]"As you should, Most Ancient One."[/i:b008ab0166] Replied the hag.

[i:b8945fcc41] In Eveshka's deep torpor chamber beneath Chenonceau... [/i:b8945fcc41]

Eveshka looked at Trish with a great hunger. She could just TAKE her vitae without so much as batting an eye, yet she did not. Trish could sense something was amiss.

"You need blood don't you," said Trish running her finger beneath the collar of her blouse. From her aura Eve could see that Trish was scared, yet somehow fascinated by the thought.

"I do," said Eveshka plainly.

"Will it?" began Trish.

"Hurt?" finished Eve. "No," she said with a smile. "Especially the way I usually do it. Although," she eyed Trish's less than supermodel appearance, "In your case, I would be a bit more um.. restrained."

Trish snorted a laugh. "Old women are not your cup of tea, eh?"

"It would be pleasureable nonetheless," said Eve with a sly lick of her teeth. She had turned on her Presence and was pulling Trish in. She walked up to her and placed her arm around her. She sauntered around behind Trish, running her finger first along her jawline, then down her neck and onto her shoulders. Normally Trish would not have been particularly interested in anything "sexual" with a female no matter HOW beautiful she was, but still, she found it nearly impossible to resist the 800 year old demi-Goddess at full throttle.

"Promise me it won't hurt," she whispered.

"I promise," said Eve as she kissed Trish's neck and then entered her.

Trish opened and closed her mouth as the pleasures of her youth flooded back to her. Eveshka could taste the endorphine rush intensify. THAT was what she was really after. Blood could be gotten anywhere, that rush was difficult to get. Trish's seemed to just keep on building. It had been years since she had had sex. Not since before her husband died had she had any real feelings of sexual longing. This vampire seemed to be awakening sensations and emotions long dormant.

Eveshka's right hand slowly ran through Trish's hair while her left played around with Trish's breasts and down her flanks. She took Trish's left hand in her own as she girated her hips into Trish's somewhat ample backside. She moved Trish's hand down below her waistline to her femininity. Trish, with her own hand beneath Eve's, began to gently circling her clitoris. Eve traced her hand back up Trish's front, leaving Trish to pleasure herself. The endorphines began to build again and crescendo to a peak wherein wave of ecstacy such as she had never felt engulfed Trish. The heady drug of such a wave, dammed for so long, made Eveshka's eyes roll back white for a moment and made her bite harder and drink deeper. Her discipline took over and she licked Trish's wound closed and lay her down on the bed. Trish panted and seemed a bit pale. In truth, Eveshka had drank a bit too deeply. It would take Trish a little while to recover.

"Sleep, Trish, I will get you something to eat," commanded Eveshka. Trish laid back and closed her eyes. Within seconds she was asleep.
Eveshka set about gathering a feast for her guest whom she had resolved to turn into a ghoul.

The station was only slightly more hectic than Gabriel would have imagined with police officers, reporters, and suspects weaving and bumping their way through the labyrinth of desks and cabinets. Monotonous pulse phones competed with the shouting, and made the room nearly unbearable. It was no wonder that the Greek police were not particularly well known for their overly pleasant attitudes. Anyone who worked in such squalor and pandemoneum was sure to be in a foul mood.

As his mortal companion and Lady Cyrilynn looked on, Gabriel took a final glance at the unfamiliar name he had jotted down on his notepad. [i:f6f3c156c1]Stetze[/i:f6f3c156c1] was the last name of the detective working the case, but they couldn't possibly hope to find him on their own.

Approaching the desk seargant, an obese obscenity of a man whose work habits obviously reflected his eating habits, Gabriel nudged their translator foward.

[i:f6f3c156c1]"Tell him we're looking for Detective Stetze."[/i:f6f3c156c1] he whispered impatiently. The frazzled driver obviously complied, for no sooner had he spat out the sentence, then did the overweight officer thrust a meaty, bloated thumb behind him. The vague motion was apparently directed towards a tiny cubicle that sat with it's opening facing the station's entrance.

The normal office nicknacks sat within. Photographs, stress relieving plush dolls (well squeezed already), coffee mugs, tokens, and other odds and ends were pressed into the tiny space in an apparently vain attempt to make it livable. In the center of the miniscule workspace, hunched over an outdated computer, sat a balding man with glasses, phone cradled to his ear. He looked like a completely adequate mascot of the department, disorderly, underfunded, and aggrivated.

Seemingly disgusted with his current telephone conversation, Stetze slammed down the phone and snatched up his empty coffee mug. He bolted up from his chair with enough ferocity to nearly topple it. Storming out of the office, he disappeared into what was safe to assume was an employee breakroom.

Gabriel nodded a silent thanks to the desk seargant, who had already gone back to work on his second report of the evening and his seventh doughnut. The three retreated to the relative sanity of the outside street, where at least they could hear themselves think. Or more importantly to him, at least Gabriel could hear himself speak.

[i:f6f3c156c1]"Alright, we'll need to stop by Elysium..."[/i:f6f3c156c1] he murmured, beginning a deliberate pace up and down the sidewalk. [i:f6f3c156c1]"...where I'll uncover who are the major powerplayers in Athens. I don't have too many contacts here personally, but the shipping company does..."[/i:f6f3c156c1]

[i:f6f3c156c1]"Shipping company?"[/i:f6f3c156c1] Cyrilynn asked, perplexed by the ranting Ventrue's incoherant mumblings. The scheming Ventrue brushed her off with a wave of his hand.

[i:f6f3c156c1]"Yes yes, the one I own. Anyway, I know we have at least one market cornered here...I believe it's steel shipments. That should be more than enough leverage...of course if I set myself up as a neutral party then..."[/i:f6f3c156c1]

[i:f6f3c156c1]"Gabriel, if I may make a suggestion?"[/i:f6f3c156c1] Cyrilynn interupted, drawing an irritated glare from the Ventrue

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Stetze strode through the office, which in the last two minutes had erupted into full blown chaos. His slender figure, kept trim by a regiment of jogging and the regulated bowel movements of a coffee drinker, cut through the crowds of officers and potential gawkers who even now rushed towards the station's entrance to get a look at the man who was threatening to throw himself off the building adjacent.

In the madness, no one had noticed that Stetze was seemingly in two places at once. The Stetze that had originally arrived at work that morning was outside, jovially chatting with a beat cop about the suicidal man's chances of jumping. The Stetze that made his way towards the tiny cubicle had only just arrived, and carried with him a new addition. A pudgy figure posing as a suspect, who in truth was a very unfortunate retainer.

Also unnoticed in the bedlam was a very disgruntled blonde Ventrue, resentful at being reduced to a secondary role in the retrieval of the files. Dominating a local window washer into walking onto the roof of a building and making forced threats was certainly [b:f6f3c156c1]not[/b:f6f3c156c1] his idea of how things should be done. But Cyrilynn had requested quite adamantly a proper distraction. If she botched this up, it would be her ass, not his.

Inside the station, the disguised Tzimisce barked orders at the shaking suspect, who rummaged nervously through the detectives file cabinet. Finally he drew out a thin manilla envelope, and presented it to her with trembling hands. She snatched it up, disgusted with his gross incompetance. It had taken him nearly three minutes to find the right file! Three minutes that the real Stetze could've returned in.

It took only one minute and forty-three seconds however, for Cyrilynn to find the copying machine, make a complete replica of the case file and return it to the appropriate drawer.

She met Gabriel upon the street amidst screams of terror and shock as the suicidal jumper finally fulfilled his role by heaving himself off the building and onto the sidewalk. A wet, sucking [i:f6f3c156c1]shplatt[/i:f6f3c156c1] muffled the pairs conversation, and the terrified howls on onlookers ensured their confidentiality.

[i:f6f3c156c1]"You've got them then?"[/i:f6f3c156c1] Gabriel muttered.

[i:f6f3c156c1]"Of course."[/i:f6f3c156c1] came the reply from the other.

[i:f6f3c156c1]"Good. Lets get them back to the hotel and have them translated. We'll figure out where to go from there."[/i:f6f3c156c1]

It was the insistant hand of hunger that finally pulled her away from her lovely dreams. A smile bloomed on her face as she snuggled it back into the silken pillows, attempting to recapture the fantasy she'd just climbed out of. It had commenced with a lovely young Touraine girl and an equally magnificent castle and had turned into something more interesting, more.....erotic. Her stomach growled, loudly.

A hand reached out to brush a lock of gray hair away from her face and she opened heavy lids to a candle lit room of elegant appointments and the delicate beauty of the face in her dreams. Trish smiled mistily and close her eyes, willing her self back to the land she'd just exited, back to a place she'd not been to in too long a time. Her limbs felt heavier than ever as she sought sleep but, again, a hand cupped her cheek and and a sultry voice called her forth.

[i:ca904b260b]"Come, wake and dine. I've procured a feast for you. You need to regain your strength or you will fall into a coma. I'm afraid, love, that I was hungrier than I knew and nearly drained you. I wish to make amends. Wake up now."[/i:ca904b260b] The speaker commanded the action and she had no choice but to obey. The older woman stretched with sweet langour amongst the sheets.

Her eyes struggled to fly open but only managed a hooded aspect and, despite her sated state, her limbs felt weighted down. Her gaze locked on to the woman that sat next to her on the coverlets of the bed and it all came back in a rush. Which ended in a blush that spread across the cheeks of the American. [i:ca904b260b]"Eve?"[/i:ca904b260b] She look a query at the French woman who only smiled a secret smile and said nothing. [i:ca904b260b]"It.... really wasn't....a dream,.....was it?[/i:ca904b260b]

The words dragged out blurred with fatigue. The Comtesse said nothing, only continued to stare and let Trish come to grips with it herself. This was the real test of the older woman's nature, either she would finally accept the truth or she would forever live in denial. The choice she made would dictate her future. Eve was hoping for the former, as she had plans for this kine. Trish let out a huge sigh and closed her eyes again.

[i:ca904b260b]"I refuse to tell you, that I didn't enjoy our.....joining."[/i:ca904b260b] The voice spoke up several seconds later. [i:ca904b260b]"Nor will I say that I am adverse to it. That is, should the opportunity arise again. You see, I'm primarily heterosexual and monogomous."[/i:ca904b260b] The American blushed once more and swallowed hard against the admission [i:ca904b260b]"But....[b:ca904b260b]MY GOD[/b:ca904b260b]....no one has ever aroused me to such a shattering peak before!"[/i:ca904b260b] Another pause, another hard swallow and then a quick vehement whisper. [i:ca904b260b]"But I hope to Hell that I experience it again, before I die!!"[/i:ca904b260b] This time, the blush was a very deep red.

The silence stretched a bit, before Trish opened her eyes to a pleased Eveshka. [i:ca904b260b]"What happens now?"[/i:ca904b260b] The older woman asked, worried that she might have stepped into more than she was prepared to handle, given that she'd been told her life was in peril for what she knew. Eve only quirked her lips and, piling the pillows up at the head board, picked up the American as if she were a rag doll and settled her against them. [i:ca904b260b]"Now? Now you eat and rest some more."[/i:ca904b260b]

Just the act of sitting up made Trish wish she was laying flat again. She tried to take the plate from the younger woman's hands but found, to her dismay, that her grip was weak and her hands shook so badly, she was afraid she would drop it all over the sumptous bedding! Eve gently took the food back and proceeded to feed her with her own hands.

The wafting scent of the meal sent her stomach into proxysms of demand and she obediently consumed everything her hostess presented her with, including the red wine. Several bites gave her the ability to fire off some questions that had sat heavily on her mind. She started innocuously and worked her way up to the difficult ones. [i:ca904b260b]"This stuff if a gourmet treat! What am I eating?"[/i:ca904b260b] Her companion twinkled at her and rattled if off, most of it in French.

[i:ca904b260b]"Entrecote de chinon with shallots, gratin savoyard, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, a local red wine and Tarte tatin with Sauce Anglaise for dessert."[/i:ca904b260b] The invalid gave a watery chuckle. [i:ca904b260b]"Hmmm....... I think I'll just enjoy the taste. Maybe it's better not to know."[/i:ca904b260b] She downed a few more bites although her chewing was beginning to slow down and the wine was making her sleepy again.

Trish tried another inquiry. [i:ca904b260b]"You really [b:ca904b260b]are[/b:ca904b260b] 800 yrs. old, aren't you? And you're really a vampire."[/i:ca904b260b] The last sentence was more of an affirmation, than a question. At that point, Eveska [b:ca904b260b]knew[/b:ca904b260b] that her vessel had finally choosen truth over ignorance and she was able to relax a bit, one hurdle down. She nodded her head and continued to urge sustenance upon her patient.

Trish was fast approaching the need to rest once more but the questions keep circling in her mind. [i:ca904b260b]"Then if that's true, I can infer the rest is too. That my life [b:ca904b260b]IS[/b:ca904b260b] in danger because I know what/who you are?"[/i:ca904b260b] She raised hazel eyes to her erstwhile hostess's gaze and begged this to be false. But the vampiress's countenance took on a troubled regard and gave an affirmative nod.

The beautiful woman set down the bowl and spoon she'd used to dish up desert to the older woman and cleared her expression to that of one about to pass judgement. [i:ca904b260b]"You have two options open before you to choose from, but the choice is ultimately yours. To live or to die. Each of those have choices too.

If you choose to die, I can make that as painless and as pleasurable as possible for you or you can wait for death to find you when you least expect it. It may or may not be by my hand so I cannot say that you will like it and that it's more apt to be quite swift, painful [b:ca904b260b]and[/b:ca904b260b] messy, no matter if you escaped or where you would manage to hid yourself.

If you choose to live, I can wipe your mind and send you on your way, but you will never be able to remember the sensations you experienced with me when I took your blood nor anything else about France, other than a lingering cold."[/i:ca904b260b] Trish's eyes widened at that, then drooped in fatigue. It was getting harder not to put her head back and let her eyelids rest at last.

[i:ca904b260b]"There is one way and one way [b:ca904b260b]only[/b:ca904b260b] that humans who know of vampires are allowed to live with their knowledge. And that is by becoming a ghoul. My ghoul, Trish."[/i:ca904b260b] The older woman's face took on a look of utter horror and loathing and her eyes flashed open, inspite of her tiredness. [i:ca904b260b]"I'd chose any one of the other three before I'd consent to be made into something that devours the living flesh of others!! I'm not and never will be a cannibal!!"[/i:ca904b260b] A tear fled those terrified orbs that had turned storm gray and her face had gone to a pasty white.

Eve realized that Trish's error had its assumptions based from many a late night horror movie and she set about correcting them at once. [i:ca904b260b]"No. I'm afraid you have the wrong information, my dear woman."[/i:ca904b260b] The comtesse shook her head in solemn denial to emphasize her point. [i:ca904b260b]"You see, a ghoul in our society is nothing more than a vassal, a thrall, a sevant. Forever bound to the regnant by the partaking of his/her blood. The drinking of vampire blood and [b:ca904b260b]only[/b:ca904b260b] the blood, not a consumption of the flesh as Hollywood likes to protray it."[/i:ca904b260b]

The strain left the American's face as she absorbed this news and she looked rather thoughtful. [i:ca904b260b]"And what does each party get from this 'relationship'?"[/i:ca904b260b] A very well thought out question, the vampire thought to herself. [i:ca904b260b]"You get to live with your knowledge, we gain a trusted assistant that can go where and when we cannot, for it is true that most of us sleep during the day, when some things need to be achieved."

"We acquire living vessels to drink from that are a renewable source. You get to experience the rush of a feeding that surpasses any mortal sexual orgasm."[/i:ca904b260b] The gasp and breathless sigh from the reclining woman was heartening to Eve's culminating plans. [i:ca904b260b]"We share some of our strenghts and none of the weakness of our race. You keep the emotional ones you have but often the physical ones will disappear."

For instance, you would live for a [b:ca904b260b]very[/b:ca904b260b] long time, as long as you are given regular feedings. If you stop, you will revert to your current age and while younger ghouls won't suffer too much, those who've lived beyond their natural span of lives, would instantly crumble to dust."[/i:ca904b260b] The French woman watched Trish's eyes grow huge. [i:ca904b260b]"If you became a ghoul now, you would freeze time at that age you are now."

Further, any diseases you have would be halted or eradicated. I'm not a doctor learned in human/vampire physiology to say which ones would be wiped away or merely frozen but one thing I could tell you is, you'd lose quite a lot of the weight you carry now and would be more fit than you have been in years."[/i:ca904b260b] Total amazement slashed across the American's features and then she suddenly began to choke on laughter.

She finally ground to a wheezing halt, wiping tears from her eyes with trembling hands. [i:ca904b260b]"You mean to tell me that I will have found the ultimate weight loss program!!??"[/i:ca904b260b] Eve's resulting bark of laughter set them both off into a spate of merriment which died into a brief space of peace. Each turned inward to their own considerations.

When the vampiress look again to her guest for further queries, she found her slumped bonelessly back on the nesting cushions with her face turned into them, her eyes closed in restful sleep. Eve stood and pulled the lax body back into a supine position and tucked the covers around her. She couldn't resist curling more wayward strands of hair behind her convalescent's ear.

Whereupon, Trish turned her cheek into the palm of her captor's hand and rubbed, much as a cat would when seeking favor. [i:ca904b260b]"Eve?"[/i:ca904b260b] The voice was dulled and slurred by approaching oblivion. [i:ca904b260b]"How will you go about making me a ghoul?"[/i:ca904b260b] The older woman's subconscious had already made the commitment, even if it had yet to be put into words. The young vampire had her answer but the official declaration would keep, until the next awakening, for the two of them.

Eve had much to think on and some errands to run, not the least of which was to find a new change of clothing for this new complication of hers. With one last look at the deeply unconscious woman, she put out all but one candle with a flick of her fingers and carried the nearly consumed meal from the room, locking her charge within.

Eve walked down the long driveway from the chateau to the village of Chenonceaux. Much like any other village in the Loire it was made primarliy of 19th century buildings built into the remains of 15th and 16th century buildings. The style did not change much, the Tourainese wished to keep a sense of congruity in their lives. Eve wandered in to a building with a Stella Artois sign hanging from a post with the words [i:335759a03b]Belles Pressions [/i:335759a03b] emblazoned on the sign. She wandered in.

The place was not overly crowded and it stank of stale beer and Gauloises cigarettes. The bar had the usual dank atmosphere known to small town pubs. Mostly older men frequented the place. This was normaly not an exception, yet tonight, there were a bunch of well dressed younger people in there. They did not look like they were tourists. With her aura perception she determined that the entire crowd in the back corner were all vampires. They must be looking for something. Most likely not her as she was thought to be dead. The glamour placed upon her by Morathi prevented anyone from seeing that she was Cainite. She wondered however, what they WOULD see if they had a look at her aura. She hadn't thought of that.

She went over to the bar and ordered.

"Leffe, s'il te plait," she said.

A moment later one arrived. She sat there sipping the beer and with her heightened senses she eavesdropped on the nest of vampires. It seemed that they WERE looking for her. That was odd. How did they know she was alive again. For a few hours they sat there and talked. They had apparently checked out the Chateau de Chenonceau but found nothing. They did not know where the secret entrance to her lair was. They assumed that the place was clean. The French government had dutifully rebuilt it after the disasterous fire a little over a year ago. The Toreadors had taken that opportunity to examine the place and never found anything. The magic shield protecting her deep torpor chamber remained as powerful as ever.

Eveshka continued to listen in on them. It seemed Rhiannon had fallen out with the Toreador High Council and resigned her Archonship. Typical, thought Eve. She couldn't handle much in the way of real responsibility. It seemed that Rhiannon was in Touraine as well. They knew she was there, but they didn't think she knew they knew. Marie?
Did they say the name Marie Katherine? She listened and turned her head a bit to listen better.

Marie Katherine was also here. She was Eve's nemesis from the 17th century. She had fallen out of Toreador society and more or less disappeared. Eve had hoped the woman had met Final Death. No such luck it seemed. What the hell was going on? Why were all of these people from her past resurfacing to haunt her. Michelle? She was here too? Eve wondered if Michelle was really the ventrue Michelle, or if she was Khemintiri in disguise again. If she were the real Michelle, Eve could understand why she had not led them to her deep torpor lair as she'd never BEEN there. Yet, if she were Khemintiri, she used to USE that same torpor chamber. What the hell was going on?

She paid for the drink and got up. As she was leaving the pub she bumped into none other than Marie Katherine. "Pardon," said Marie in a low but courteous voice. She had no idea who Eve was. She didn't appear to even notice that Eve was a vampire. "Pas probleme," said Eve, as she stepped onto the cobblestoned street. This could be difficult, thought Eve.

Marie had once been Eve's lover when they both lived at Versailles with the Sun King. Marie had betrayed Eve in a story too long to be recounted just now. As with most of Eve's lovers, with the exception of that baffoon Brian Braddock, Eve still found her attractive and basically still wanted to do unspeakable things of pleasure with her. Of course, as with many of her former lovers, after the pleasure bit was done she would like nothing better than to destroy them, but that is a different thing entirely. Either way, she had resolved that she would need Trish as a ghoul. Nobody would suspect an older woman as a ghoul. Especially as EVESHKA'S ghoul. Generally Eve's ghouls were all supermodel types. But again, that is a different thing altogether.

Baba Yaga looked at Julius. "You remember," she said. "But you must remember how to use your power wisely or thevision Laeryn gave you will be your fate."

Julius nodded. Although he was a bit apprehensive still, he was very much relieved. It was good to know that he would not be the one responsible for destroying the earth. At least not NECESSARILY the one responsible. He watched the hideous crone vanish inside her chicken legged hut. With an odd squishing sound punctuated by earthy thumps, the hut began walking off into the gloom.

Julius turned around and walked off towards the waiting Panzer-IV. Gerhardt snapped off a salute. Julius merely looked at him. "You want to stay here?" asked Julius. "Or do you wish to come with me?"

"I will follow Mein Fuhrer wherever he commands," said Gerhardt.

"Right," said Julius. He turned and shouted, "[i:d8d224f90d] TEMPORUS EXPOSITUS [/i:d8d224f90d]." Immediately a portal seemed to tear open in front of him. Julius smirked slightly, clearly pleased with himself. This was kind of neat. He grabbed Gerhardt and pulled him into the portal of light that stood before them. The sensation of moving through the portal was quite exhilarating. It felt nearly as if he were being thrust head first through a water pipe that radiated swirls of colors. Julius thought it was rather like the beginning of Doctor Who, just much prettier, and without the silly music. All at once they stepped out of the portal into the darkness. It looked remeniscent of the fairy land, yet the annoying Laeryn was nowhere to be seen. Apparently Julius had brought them back to the real world, and not to where he had last been in the year 2003. From the looks of things, it was summer time. The sky was slightly light in the west. The sun must have just gone down. The waxing moon rode at about 30 degrees in the western sky. He looked at the stars and instinctively knew that it was July 17, the Moon of Arianrhod rose that night. Julius stopped himself a moment. He'd never known that before. "Taliesin," he said aloud. Gerhardt looked at him silently. "Was I Taliesin?" He shook his head a few times, not knowing the answer, and then walked back towards Volgograd. He walked a few feet and then stopped. He pictured his hotel back in Volgograd and willed Gerhardt and himself to be there...

And they were.

"Herr Fallen, stand by the door and see that I am not disturbed," he ordered.

Gerhardt saluted and moved over to the door where he stood there silently. Julius sat down on the edge of the bed, put his head in his hands and meditated. He needed to remember just who he was and exactly who he had been.

A steady supply of raindrops showered over the never sleeping city of New York. Day or Night, it didn?t seem to matter, there was always something happening there were always signs of life. In the harbor district it were the sailors and dock workers unloading cargo or preparing a ship for departure, it were the bums and homeless drunks pushing their belongings in shopping carts with screeching wheels through the streets or it was the filthy crack whore trying to sell her merchandise to whoever, there was no need to be picky.

[i:a035a07b87]Heya, handsome, want to have some fun?[/i:a035a07b87], a purple haired harlot with several ladders in her stockings asked, after which she blew a bubble with her strawberry flavored chewing gum.

[i:a035a07b87]No, thanks.[/i:a035a07b87], the man in the long fur raincoat mumbled, not giving her a glance worth of his time.

New York, a city filled with sickness and disease, a city that carried a lot of memories, unsure if the good ones were in balance with the bad ones, but what did it matter, it felt good to be back, sort of at least. His feline companion couldn?t agree more, it was mating season and New York served as a haven for street cats. While Mundug himself had become less and less interested in the mating ritual throughout the years of his afterlife, he understood that it was an important event for all mortal life and even for some immortal life, as he recalled.

Soaking wet he arrived at the apartment, not quite what most people would call home, but then again, some people that lived in the neighborhood, would be glad to have a place like this. Even if there were fungi growing on the walls, pigeon poop all over the rotten floor and there was rain dripping through the cracked roof. Mundug knew most other cainites would have a horde of ghouls and retainers to take care of issues like that and others, but the idea of master and servant was not something he supported, no doubt a scar out of his past that would never heal. There were plenty of those.

Jerry would probably not return any time soon, although he could never be sure, Mundug believed that Jerry?s rogue status among cats had a huge appeal among the females of his species. Of course he himself could not complain with his well muscled body, it was just the whole flirting game that he had never really mastered. Luckily just looks could be sufficient and hunting didn?t cause too much problems and in New York, it would probably not cause any troubles at all and that was good, because it would allow him to focus more on the things that were at hand.

What those things were, he could not tell yet. But there were things happening in the world of the kindred and no matter how hard he tried to hide from it in the vast woods of the many national parks, he would not escape. It wasn?t a matter of if, it was a matter of when the past would come back for him, yes, however dumb or unknowing he might seem to other kindred, he could tell that much. His trip to New York had only served as a confirmation for himself. All he had to do was wait, trouble would show up soon enough.

Julius' mind wandered. Wandered adrift of an ocean of memories. Voices from the past clamouring in his mind to be heard. Each demanding attention for their own cause. Great projects, unfinished due to some untimely demise, must be recommenced. Ancient trespasses must be avenged. Names, endless lists of names, parading through his consciousness with remembered faces. It was impossible to count the lifetimes, the memories, the overwhelming tale of years which stretched back almost to the beginning of creation itself.

Mortal minds were not intended to comprehend such a vastness of vision. That Julius was kindred, helped little. Rather than the plodding accumulation over the years, the oldest thoughts fading like the millenia, each moment of each life was engraved in perfect crystal clarity upon his tortured synapses.

And still the clamour continued. [i:449a644dd1]"The beast has escaped!"[/i:449a644dd1] ... [i:449a644dd1]"I must finish this book."[/i:449a644dd1] ... [i:449a644dd1]"When the Hornéd One comes upon me, I am Herne."[/i:449a644dd1] ... [i:449a644dd1]"Nero wasn't even [b:449a644dd1]in[/b:449a644dd1] Rome that day."[/i:449a644dd1] ... [i:449a644dd1]"I must find my lord, Caine"[/i:449a644dd1] ... [i:449a644dd1]"Imhotep, your magics will not last."[/i:449a644dd1] ... [i:449a644dd1]"The attack begins."[/i:449a644dd1] ... [i:449a644dd1]"I can save them."[/i:449a644dd1]

Images, words, sounds, smells, perceptions of all kinds throwing themselves around and around Julius' mind. His identity awash with the ego of thousands of individuals, each of the souls, which were the same soul, believing that they were the one, the owner, the life within the shell.

Something tangible though. Something which held the threads together down through the millenia. Something which always had been in place. Another soul, or perhaps, another half of the same soul. Sometimes lovers. Sometimes rivals. Sometimes enemies. Sometimes none of these things. Always, gravitating together. Morgan Le Fay, wasn't even her proper name... she had been High Priestess of the Goddess when Julius was... or was it Taliesin... had been the Merlin of Britain. Slave girl in Enoch. Priestess of Bast, in Khem. As many lives as Julius could count, she had been there. The only gap, near eight hundred years. Since.. Pskov. That's where it had gone wrong, where his soul mate had been taken away. They should both have died. The cycle to continue, yet he had passed on and she had remained. Eveshka.

And if the other half of his soul is Eveshka, then he must be...

Julius raised his head and opened his eyes. [i:449a644dd1]"I am Julius."[/i:449a644dd1] He said.

[i:449a644dd1]"Jawohl, mein Fuhrer."[/i:449a644dd1] Answered Gerhardt.

Eve entered the chateau through her usual secret entrance. She swept across the empty halls and chambers and down into her private abode. Trish sat there waiting. She had been poking about and found a book of hours and was reading it laying down on the lavish bed with her head propped up on a pillow.

"Hello," said the older looking American. "I hope you don't mind that I.." she started only to be cut off.

"Never mind that now," said Eveshka imperiously. "A storm is brewing. I wanted to make the first drink special but under the circumstances I am not at liberty to do any more than the rudimentary act."

She slit her wrist and let her vitae dribble into a cup which she mixed with a sweet wine to cover the bitterness. She handed the glass to Trish. "The choice is yours," she said. "I will not destroy you if you choose not to. I will just erase your memory of ever having met me. If you see me someplace, it will be like deja vu."

She crossed her arms and looked at Trish for a response. Trish drank the glass. Eveshka smiled at her and embraced for a few moments.

"It won't be easy Trish. But i will try to make it worth your while."

"I don't feel any different yet," said Trish.

"It'll take a little bit, I think," said Eveshka. "Everyone is different in their response. My Vitae is also diluted with the wine so your powers will take longer to truly matriculate. We've gotta go."

"Where are we headed?" asked Trish.

"Orleans, to find Morathi."