The Undead Heart

The court was chilly, the number of bodies in it doing nothing to warm the air. Rebecca reflected morbidly that three living people could do little to dispel the chill of the grave from so many. She wished Marcus were here; she might dislike the Mage Representative, feeling him too arrogant and unworthy of trust, but he was at least alive. She, the ghoul Mattie Storin, and Spirit Interface were greatly outnumbered in that regard.

She shivered, and her gut clenched as she saw Steven Millan come toward her. He stopped at a a distance suitable for private conversation, a foot and a half from her or so, but came no closer, not crowding her space like Feld or Ezra often did.

He nodded in greeting. "It is good to see you here," he said, "I had worried about you when you didn't show up last court."

Rebecca tried to cover her tension. "Yes... I caught a flu from one of my clients, and it laid me up for a few days."

"Ah." He paused, and an edge entered his voice. "Do you have an answer to my proposal?"

She nodded, feeling a chill on her skin. "Later."

He inclined his head in acceptance, and moved away. Rebecca remembered to breathe, suddenly, feeling the knots in her shoulders loosen a little. She looked around for Spirit Interface, and found him in his customary spot in the far corner, perusing files on his laptop. He looked up as she approached, and they strolled to an unoccupied spot near the Prince's dais. "Did you get my e-mail?"

Spirit nodded. "I see your concern. What would you have me do to help?"

Rebecca shrugged somewhat helplessly. "You would know better than I. I'm afraid that he won't take no for an answer, and I'm pretty much defenseless against him."

"I see." Spirit considered. "If you're mainly worried about him attacking you, I can hide myself nearby and come to your rescue if need be."

It sounded good. She heaved a great sigh, and replied, "Yes, that would help enormously."

"When were you going to speak with him?"

"I told him later... I was thinking after formal court, but it doesn't have to be." She found her mind was clearing somewhat, freed from the near-panic state she had spent the last week in. So long as Steven took her answer, it would be all right... and if he didn't, she had a fighting chance. A Garou in wolf-man form was nothing even a vampire could scoff at.

Spirit's voice reflected calm strength; it reassured her. "How about I go outside, and you follow in a minute or so with him. You may not be able to see me, but I'll be there."

Rebecca relaxed a little more. "All right."

Spirit headed for the entrance, limping slightly, using his cane with the ease of long practice. After he passed through the double doors, Rebecca waited for a minute or so, then steeled herself and approached Steven.

"I need to speak with you." She watched as his attention sharpened at that, and she added, "In private."

He gestured for her to lead the way, and she walked outside, aware with every step of the predator following behind her.

She paused some ten feet beyond the outer doors, taking a surreptitious glance around and seeing nothing out of the ordinary. She trusted Spirit, if nothing else to keep the Kindred in line; he had a strong sense of justice, and a great belief in the spirit of the Treaty of the Trinity. He would protect her as an innocent, as an enlightened mortal, and as a colleague in court. It would still make her feel a bit better if she could tell where he was.

She turned to face Steven, her nerves singing with tension. "So... a couple of courts back, you offered me the chance to partake of Kindred blood."

"Yes." His voice was low and quiet.

"I think... that I would really rather not. I don't want to offend you, but... I don't think my path lies in that direction." Please, don't let him snap...

His reaction seemed to be more startlement than anger. "No, I understand completely. I won't bother you further."

She nodded, nervously, and headed back inside; the back of her neck itched, and she fought the urge to run. Inside, she put her back to a wall and breathed a small sigh. The danger wasn't over, of course -- he might still attack her as she left court. But he wouldn't do anything here.

She avoided looking in Steven's direction, trying to appear casual. After a few minutes, Spirit Interface strolled back in, making his way over to her. His usual cheerful demeanor was gone, his tone serious as he asked, "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Yes. Provided he doesn't decide to take me anyway after court."

Spirit frowned in concern. "If you like, I can extend the protection of the Garou to you."

"How?" She was wary of proposals; this was the third one so far. First the Tremere, then the Mage, Marcus D'Canti -- what now?

"I could make you an honorary Kinfolk. You would be respected and protected by the Garou, and protected by the Treaty as well."

"What would the Garou want in return?" It sounded good, and Spirit wouldn't give her a choice that was no choice -- she thought -- but all deals were two-way.

Spirit didn't seem surprised by the question. "The Garou would ask your help from time to time in matters like supplies, contacts, and the like. You wouldn't fight, but you would be responsible for helping to protect the caern. Kinfolk are our support staff; they do what we can't."

The pressure was unbearable. She felt torn in three directions, and didn't want to go in any of them; she had to choose one, though, or it would be chosen for her, and she was deathly afraid that Steven Millan would do the choosing. After a moment's thought, she decided that this seemed the least permanent and the most beneficial. "Please... I think that would help a lot."

Spirit nodded. "All right. I'll speak with you later about it, then."

A great weight lifted from her shoulders as she felt the protection settle around her. "OK."

"You'll be all right?" She just nodded in reply, and he seemed satisfied. After a minute or so he left her side, going out into the court. She just stayed where she was, aware of very little but the respite from fear.

Steven sat on a bench just inside the door, his thoughts an incoherent jumble of rage, loss, and confusion. He barely noticed Ezra's approach until she sat next to him and said simply, "Well?"

"She turned me down." His voice was small and forlorn. "She refused immortality. And now I've lost her."

Ezra cocked her head. "Did she mean so much?"

He sighed. "Not anymore, I guess. She's off limits now." He looked up and found the figure of Spirit Interface, the rage rising again so that he could barely spit the words out. "And that... that filthy animal threatened me." The memory was fresh, minutes old: the Garou had approached him to warn him that Rebecca was theirs now, and not to touch her for fear of retribution. Gone, guarded by that... thing. Melancholy enveloped him again, and he hung his head.

Ezra's hand crept into his, and she said nothing.

Court convened, and they rose, taking a position along the side wall, out of the way. Steven could see Rebecca in the third row of seats, looking straight ahead as Jeremy conducted business. He had never realized how important it was to him that she say yes... and now she was out of reach. Despair overwhelmed him, and he stopped even trying to follow the court affairs, retreating into a haze of depression.

The voice of Spirit Interface grated on his ear, and he refocused on the court. The werewolf announced briefly that Rebecca was to be honorary Garou Kinfolk, and under his protection. Anger seethed in Steven's chest, obscuring his vision and drowning out the last of court. It died quickly, having no outlet, and he sighed. She would never be his, now, and that thought hurt more than he ever thought it could.

Court broke up, and he stayed for only a few minutes, then left early. Perhaps a sorority would be throwing their own party tonight; the frats always claimed most of the girls that came to their parties for their own use. He needed a couple himself, tonight.