The Undead Heart

This story was set after the court gathering September 12, 1999. See the background for the events after Blood Gift.

Rebecca idled a little outside Elysium after court, until she saw Steven emerge, having dealt with the last of the people wanting to talk with the Prince. She moved to catch his arm briefly, and told him quietly, "I'll meet you."

He stopped long enough to respond, "I'll come to your place." She nodded, then walked out to her car and left.

She waited for about an hour at her apartment, fretting a bit and trying to calm down, before a knock sounded on her door. She opened it to reveal Steven, in full trenchcoat and hat, filling her doorway; he gave her a small bow and came in, doffing his fedora. She greeted him, as usual, "Steven." He responded, "Rebecca," and shut the door behind him.

"Yes... um. I was actually wondering if it would be possible to... have a walk." Her voice was hesitant.

Steve's eyebrows rose. "A walk?"

"Yes, just... out." She smiled a little. "It's a small apartment, you know... and I was hoping to speak with you."

"Of course." He gestured. "After you."

They went outside, Steven trying to hide some anxiety and mostly succeeding. Rebecca went to the entrance of the apartments, turned to him, and said, "Pick a direction."

"A direction?"

She smiled slightly. "I've become rather familiar with the understandable paranoia of Kindred. I'm not setting you up. Pick a direction."

He gave her an ironic grin. "Let's go this way." He sauntered off one way, toward one of the less-populated areas.

There was a small, somewhat awkward silence. Rebecca breached it at last, with halting (but quite easily understandable) Latin. "I was thinking we might be a little more... confidential in our language."^*

Steven grinned, and responded in kind. "Oh, of course, of course. It's always better to speak in a tongue that the commoners don't understand."

Rebecca cocked her head. "Well, I did figure that this would at least stymie any chance eavesdroppers." Steven grinned a little more broadly and agreed.

She didn't look up at him, preferring to watch her feet in the semidarkness, glad that there was open air around her. She was more nervous now, knowing what she was getting into; the second time was always the worst, she reflected, remembering how hard it had been to go to court the second night, knowing that she might be killed or worse. This was not nearly so dire, but she still found herself sick with apprehension and tight as a bowstring from nervousness and fear.

"But...." She sighed, and continued slowly. "I have been warned repeatedly both by you and Ezra that there is some danger -- I already knew there was danger in being in the court, but additional danger in dealing with Kindred individually, and I -- just from my own knowledge -- know that it's probably very risky what I'm doing.^* I specifically wanted to tell you that I have precautions... We're a little bit far from the chantry for my liking, simply because I do have two pints of blood and an IV kit in my car." Steven's eyebrows raised a little, but he let her continue. "I wanted to even the odds a little bit, just in case. I plan for contingencies. This isn't to say I don't trust your abilities, but I don't believe in taking risks."

"Of course. It's understandable." Steven's lips curved in a small smile.

She went on. "And I know for a fact that one of the ghouls in the chantry is very well-versed in medical practices."

Steven's voice had an edge of nervous caution to it. "I wanted to meet away from the chantry, in a place a little more... private."

Rebecca said hastily, "Oh, I understand... It's a bit like being at your family's house, I suppose." She smiled at the simile.

Steven laughed. "Yes, it is. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing; it's just somewhat... embarrassing, I guess you could say."

Rebecca chuckled a little, and told him, "Yes, I do understand." After a moment, her thoughts turned to other things, and she lost her humor. "I did consult otherwise with Ezra, simply on principle, about..." she sighed. "I think you call it the Beast--" Steven agreed, and she went on, "--and what to do if someone did lose control on me.^* I think that's a good thing to know, just being in the court, and I'm rather ashamed of myself that I didn't ask before. She told me basically what I knew already, which was, 'Run'."

Steven gave his sardonic smile, chuckling. "Yes... unless you have a way of stopping Kindred, there's not much you can do but run."

She interjected, "I do believe that at one point Spirit Interface was working on a... device... but I was never presented with one, so I'm on my own. And I do have a few resources -- I can come up with a few things that normal people wouldn't have -- but I wanted to make sure there wasn't something I was missing. Just because, as I said, I don't believe in taking risks. Or, at least, needless ones." She smiled a little, wryly.

His voice was soft; "Yes."

She couldn't keep a small tremor from her voice as she spoke again, remembering the night at a sorority party.^* "And granted, I don't really know how to stop you if you... go wild."

"I will say that --" he drew a breath "-- it is very unlikely that I would, as you say, 'go wild' on you. But it is understandable that you wanted to take precautions."

She looked away, a little shamefaced, but dogged. "Well, there have been a couple of courts," she smiled a little, "that I know have... stirred your anger." Steven laughed grimly, but said nothing. "And I do trust that you wouldn't harm me, unless something very unusual occurred."

"Yes. You can't be too careful, though, I do understand."

Rebecca took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "I made the decision to continue with this after a lot of thought. Simply the personal risk was something to think over... not to mention the risk to -- well, I don't have much of a reputation in court, but certainly the risk to yours."

Steven smiled again, and murmured, "Yes."

Rebecca looked sidelong at him, speaking slowly to find words in the foreign language. "Because, well, if people were to find out that we had this arrangement, other things might be discovered as well."^*

Steven sighed. "Yes, that would be... unfortunate. I don't plan on this becoming public."

Rebecca laughed wryly. "Well, no -- no one ever plans on it."

"Yes. The stink that would cause..." He looked up and gave a snort of laughter.

She murmured, "I'd kind of guessed -- I've never heard anything like that, but I don't know anything about Kindred courts. I do know that information of it would be very scandalous, though, simply because I know the general attitude toward humans."

Steven added, "Especially for the Prince, to have these things.... for a normal member of court, it would only be --" Rebecca interjected, "Ah... the same problem as the President."

He nodded. "Yes... For a normal member of court, it would only be a bit scandalous. If it's the Prince, it's a major scandal."

"Indeed." She looked down at her feet, at the shadowy pavement. "I felt that, all told, it was probably worth the risk, at least on my end. I mean, I've already been risking my life... this is simply a more personal aspect of it."

Steven looked over at her, and must have seen some of her tension in the way she held herself, the way she moved. His hand reached over to take hers, clasping it gently but firmly; his skin was warm. Rebecca found it somewhat comforting, and smiled a little sidelong at him. Diffidently, he ventured, "If you don't mind me asking... why exactly did you decide to continue?"

"Mostly because of my original reasons. I'm... I wish to help a friend. I told you originally that it was probably rather unfair of me, but it was the best way I knew of to make sure that you weren't doing yourself harm." He made a small sound of understanding, and she looked for words to continue. "I still feel that way... I do feel better that I know that you are -- for one thing, more in control of yourself, and for another, that you aren't relying on other ways to keep that control." She paused. "I also knew that it would probably do you good, to have the support."

His mouth twisted. "Yes... I do admit, it is a nasty habit that I formed... and I do appreciate your help."

Rebecca laughed quietly. "Even though it didn't seem that way."

Steven grinned and returned, "The truth hurts sometimes."

Still amused, she said wryly, "Well, I've never been terribly kind -- either to my clients or to my friends. I tend to be rough on people... but really only where I see it would help. And it did help." She gathered the Latin, forming what she wanted to say; Steven apparently had a greater facility for speaking it, probably through practice. "But I mean that simply having me here helped your peace of mind... and I want to help you as much as possible, in that way. Give you as much support as I could -- especially after I heard the news, when I came to the chantry...^* I figured you needed that."

There was a pause, and he took her fingertips again, briefly. She took courage and a little strength from the contact, and went on after a moment. "I needed to get out of the apartment -- partly because it was small, and partly..." She took a deep breath. "Partly so that I didn't feel like I was sitting there facing you, trying to... justify... what I've been thinking these last weeks."

"Justify what you've been thinking?" His curiosity mixed a little with humor, and she flushed.

"Yes -- why I wanted to continue with this. Why I decided to do it in the first place. It's hard enough to -- think about it, let alone talk about it."

His tone was gentle this time, musing. "Yes..."

She was brisk. "And I wanted to get out. I realized, actually, a little bit after I arrived here, that you might be somewhat -- suspicious of it. That's why I asked you to pick a direction." She looked over at him, where he watched his feet pacing the sidewalk slowly.

The omnipresent wry tone in his voice sharpened a bit. "I'm mostly concerned about what would be seen."

She shrugged. "Well, certainly, we're just two friends at midnight, out walking..." He snorted, and she raised an eyebrow. "It does happen around here, though not normally of our apparent ages. College kids go out walking late at night; thinking, socializing, working out problems. Pleasant Hill is a fairly calm place."

"Yes, well... I was more concerned about being seen by those who already know who we are -- who may be wondering about our relations."

Sheepishly, she turned her thoughts to the court. "Of course... Though superficially, I would hope it would simply seem to be a conference."

He nodded, allowing her optimism; "I would hope."

"But of course there's no way to know whether there would be anyone there." She sighed, and took a left turn, heading back toward the apartments along a somewhat deserted back road, with a hill on one side and distant houses on the other. He followed beside her.

A small shudder ran through her as she controlled her nerves, and she hid herself momentarily behind her long, loose hair. Steven looked closely at her, and asked, "Are you all right? You seem distressed."

She sighed. "I suppose..." She laughed. "It's been a long night. It always is." He chuckled, and waited for her to go on. After a moment, she murmured, "My nerves always get a little bit stretched at court. Less so tonight than usual, but -- I really hadn't expected Jennifer there."^*

"Neither did I -- that was quite an interesting experience."

She went on, almost running over his words. "I'm not really sure that I behaved the way I normally would have -- just from the amount of surprise and the fact that I don't really know where I stand with her. I think she's as blunt as she comes across, but I'm never really sure. Arnold certainly is. And I think most of the Garou are, actually -- they don't hide much. So if I feel that I'm on good relations with her, than I guess I must be. She's a very blunt and up-front sort of person... it rather brought the same out in me." She grinned, embarrassed at her outburst. "I think you've noticed that I'm not normally as reserved as I am in court..."

He seemed surprised. "Of course."

"I otherwise speak my mind, and so does she. I'm not much of a diplomat." Steven chuckled as she said that.

Rebecca sighed. "Between that and Feld^* -- it was good to see him well... or as well as can be expected. I do hope he takes the time to heal a bit, but he seems all right. It rather worried me that he might decide that it wasn't worth the pain and the effort, but I don't sense that. Still, he's unnerving as ever..."

Steven frowned a little, curious. "Unnerving?"

"You never really know what he's going to do next. He's always calm and reserved about it -- much more so now than usual, but still -- even back then, he was calm and reserved... but you never really knew what he was thinking."

Steven hmphed, amused. "That's true of many of our kind -- especially the Malkavians. They are very unpredictable. That's why they're feared by so many."

She nodded. "But I respected him greatly... and I did feel a great loyalty to him. I still do. I'm glad I feel that I've returned the favor to him, and that we may be even, but there's still a great deal of respect and -- I wouldn't call it friendship, but -- loyalty, anyway. He made a very good Prince." She smiled wryly. "But a frightening one."

Steven chuckled. "Unfortunately the two are often inseparable."

"He was always very gentle with me." Her voice was a little wondering. "My fear of him was more the fact that he was one of the first Kindred I ever met, and that he did have the power to kill me that second night. I came to the court -- though it was in a different location, I found out where it was being held and showed up for the second time, despite Sarah Donner's warnings not to...^* and she sat with me out on the doorstep and talked with me about the case she was working on, while the court basically decided whether I was to live or not. I remember, Feld came out, and was unfailingly civil to me. I expected a cup of tea, rather than the grim-faced patriarch I had been expecting. And he welcomed me in like it happened all the time... I got the definite feeling that I was under his personal protection, no matter that he had never seen me before. I don't know whether that was genuine or not -- it seemed to be. It still does. But I still don't know."

She sighed. "At any rate, between that and the meeting with Jennifer Clearwater... and this meeting with you... my nerves are rather -- stretched."

Steven reached out to touch her hair; she tensed a little and slowed down. He dropped his hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right... I'm just -- I suppose apprehensive would be the word." She smiled a little. "You don't frighten me, but... it's still very difficult, I suppose, to face my decision. I know my own mind, but it's not always as easy as that." She made a conscious effort to relax. "I suppose it was really exacerbated by the Archon, but I think it may have been there before -- I don't know; no Kindred ever touched me before that, I think, save for handshakes -- but dealing on a personal basis with Kindred is one thing... dealing with touch is quite another." She smiled a little. "But I honestly don't mind -- it's only a reflex, I think."

She chuckled. "I dreamt about that Archon, once or twice." She fell silent for a minute, then said quietly, "I think I would be very happy to avoid the Camarilla altogether, on any level higher than Prince."

Steven chuckled. "Many Kindred would rather not deal with the Prince, either."

She laughed. "Well, I realize that my position gives me a bit of an advantage, in that I don't need to have such things as status and standing... I think that, had I not already been on good terms with the person who became the Prince, I wouldn't want to approach the Prince either." She grinned with humor. "Other than to assert my -- well, assert my presence, since I don't really have any rights, other than that the Prince gives me. It's very difficult, living by a different set of rules... A different set of rules than either the mortal world or the Kindred. I knew that being a bridge was difficult, but that's not one aspect I had really brought under consideration." She thought or a moment. "I tend to think that I'm a bridge between the Kindred and the lupine worlds, rather than the Kindred and the mortal -- because I rather take it for granted, being a mortal."

"Perhaps you're both." Steven's voice was thoughtful.

She half-shrugged, admitting the possibility. "Not at all easy... not easy on the nerves. I think that, in some ways, it might even be harder than your position." Steven chuckled, and she amended, "though I certainly wouldn't make light of that, either... I can definitely see why you'd turn to something like drink." She looked away. "It's been a little bit difficult to keep my own composure in court."

Taking a deep breath, she looked up, as though for inspiration. "The ironic thing is that it's well known that healers can drive themselves practically to their own deaths by healing other people. It's a compulsion -- not something easily controlled. One tends to forget about one's self when dealing with other peoples' problems; in dealing with the court's problems, I tend to forget to look to myself." Her mouth twisted a little in chagrin. "I kept wondering why I stayed... the simple fact was the same reason I go out and take clients -- it's because I'm needed. Even if I don't see how."

The apartments came into sight around a curve; Rebecca felt her apprehension return. "Well, let's see whether I feel trapped in the apartment," she said, with a weak grin at her folly. Sobering, she added, "Because, in some ways, it was not easy waiting."

His tone was soft, but not overly apologetic. "I'm sorry -- I needed to make sure I wasn't followed."

She said hastily, "no, it's just that... It gave me another chance to second guess myself." She looked at him, wondering that he had allowed her to bring them outside, given how uneasy he was about it. "I appreciate that you took that caution. Again, my... interests are lesser in this situation, at least in terms of security."

Walking up the stairs, she opened the door, which proved to be unlocked as she had left it. Over her shoulder, she remarked, "Wonderful place, Pleasant Hill... very little crime here. Pleasant Hill Police doesn't have much to do."

There was an edge to his tone. "I still wouldn't leave that unlocked."

"Well, when we're not here, it's not a problem." She was nonchalant. "I know the police around here. It's a known fact that you don't go speeding in Pleasant Hill, because the police don't have anything to do except sit there with their radar guns. They come by here at least twice a night."

"I'm speaking of more... unseen..." He paused, and her eyes widened.^*

"Ah -- you have a point," she confessed, somewhat ashamed of being so blind. "One I certainly hadn't thought of." She chuckled a little, chagrined. "That just shows that I live in the mortal world."

His voice revealed his tension. "The years of living in our world have taught me to be cautious."

She nodded. "Something I definitely understand. Here, have a seat."

"Thank you." He folded himself into the armchair with his usual care; not, she reflected absently, as though he were fragile, but as though the things around him were delicate, like living in a world of spun glass. She took a seat on the couch near him, still fidgeting a little, trying not to nibble her fingertips in a display of nervous habit.

She put her mind back to the subject at hand. "I can understand that the ability to see the unseen would be very... useful."^* He chuckled, and assented; she went on. "I know there's at least one person in the court who can do that -- though I'm sure there have been a few unseen things that they haven't seen."

He looked down. "I myself am working on that area." Rebecca looked at him with renewed interest as he continued. "My mastery isn't very well-developed right now, but..." he trailed off.

She half-shrugged and said, "I suppose learning any skill takes time."

Steven smiled. "Fortunately, time is the one thing we have an abundance of."

Rebecca gave a chuckle to hide her nervousness, reminded once again that her companion would quite possibly outlive her by centuries. "Yes, well... I've been busy, with learning a few things." She looked at her hands, folded in her lap, and tried again not to fidget. After a long pause, she found herself saying, with a certain helpless honesty, "I don't really know how to approach you."

He cocked his head at her. "In what way?"

She shook her head. "I know you as an acquaintance, I know you as a friend... but beyond that, I don't know." She hesitated. "The connotation of friend alone is -- I wouldn't say difficult, but unexpected, maybe. You never really drew my attention much, except when we were dealing with that second set of orbs business...^* It never really came to much."

He smiled. "Yes... I didn't draw much attention at all, most times."

She returned wryly, "Probably wise, considering... If I recall correctly, the times were not quiet."

He laughed. "They haven't been quiet since I set foot here, and I'm sure they haven't been before I came in." She agreed, and he continued, "I seriously doubt they'll stop anytime soon, whether this court continues to exist or not."

Rebecca cocked an eyebrow. "That is rather the question -- if they get rid of the court, what then? I suppose that the nearest other court takes over -- I think they'll have a joy of it."

Steven dropped all trace of humor, frowning a little with a trace of unease. "Vannevar's been eyeing the area."

"He's the Prince of...." Her brow creased in thought. "San Francisco, right?"

He replied, "Yes," still troubled.

She nodded. "I've been hearing his name since I first stepped in."

"A very active, very influential man." His tone was distant.

"I would imagine so, if he's able to keep something like San Francisco under his control. He himself, he's had problems -- I wonder what sort of flak he got from the Camarilla about the whole martial law bit...^* If that was really Sabbat, it certainly got out of his control."

"I don't believe he got much flak at all about that." Steven's mouth twisted with distaste. "He doubtless called in a few old favors."

Rebecca gave a cynical chuckle. "To keep it under wraps, if nothing else."

Steven nodded, adding, "Vannevar is a very influential man, as I've said."

She frowned, as something occurred to her. "The question is, someone always needs somebody to blame." Steven gave a short laugh of agreement as she spoke. "The question is who took the fall for that one." She lapsed into thought, muttering, "It's all history now..."

After a minute, she sighed. "It's amazing -- I thought back a little while ago about the fact that I came in while Feld was Prince, and I realized how long ago that was." Her tone was one of bemused wonder. "A year and more, because it was summer when I came in, and it's going on fall now. I don't remember a lot of that time -- I was just getting used to the Kindred society in some ways, the court... Keeping close to the two other mortals. I didn't usually see much of the ghouls. There were, I suppose, fewer Kindred and more... living people at that time, but there were certainly two other full mortals, the two FBI agents. Though I didn't think much of Roger, I did keep Sarah's consul." She snorted a little. "Interesting thing is that, though her name was maligned later, Elise rather took care of me.^* I don't know why -- maybe she took a shine to me." She smiled. "Though she was afraid of the Tremere."

Steven chuckled softly. "All too many are afraid of us."

She mused, "Well... it seems to me that some of you actually encourage that, in some ways."

At that, he nodded, and replied, "Sometimes... sometimes it works to our advantage -- sometimes it's best to be feared." He grinned a little, ferally, and she looked away.

"It was, um -- I don't know whether it worked to your advantage or not, tonight, when you were... imposing opinion on the court.^* I really don't know what it did for the reputation of the Tremere. As it was, I believe it would increase it." Rebecca looked up, to see him give one of his wry smiles.

"The reputation of the Tremere has been so maligned that there is little that can be done to change it either way."

Rebecca considered. "Well, perhaps in general, but maybe in the court... I don't know that you'd want to, though. Again, it seems to help as much as hinder."

He chuckled. "A double-edged sword, like many things. Times being what they are, I felt that now, the need to be feared was stronger than the need to be seen as sane." He looked over at her, self-mockery in his gaze.

She narrowed her eyes. "Do you really think that it might have gone the other way?"

"I'm sure there will be murmurings of the fact that I am a madman... that the Prince of the City is a sadistic monster that needs to be destroyed." He seemed amused by the notion. "On the other hand, I've undoubtedly put the fear of God into several of the neonates there." The last was said with relish.

Her eyebrow quirked. "Or at least the fear of the Prince." Steven hmphed, but said nothing. Rebecca pursed her lips. "Feld did ask me about the ashes of the two Malkavians. I told him that I didn't know about any matter like that. I wondered at the time whether he was all together about that -- I guess he was."

He looked regretful. "Feld did seem rather... disturbed about the destruction of those two. He didn't know what they were, he didn't know their history at this court."

Rebecca continued, speaking slowly. "I suppose to your credit, I did describe them. He didn't seem terribly impressed with Gra, and seemed rather contemptuous of Obsidian, so perhaps his opinion won't be as harsh as it might have been. They were both of his clan, though."

"Yes... unfortunately, he seems to have gotten it in his mind that I'm cracking down on Malkavians, when the truth is that I'm merely cracking down on those who are a threat to the court, and it was simple coincidence that those two were Malkavian."

"Well, Feld will think what he thinks, and hardly anyone knows what that is unless he tells them. He will not necessarily be in the area, at least for long -- it was my understanding that he intended to get rather far away from here, or at least lie low. He said that it was still his county, even if he wasn't Prince, but that he had no intention of being here if the Camarilla decided to scourge the area."

Steven chuckled. "That seems to be a common opinion."

Rebecca half-smiled. "That may be why we've had so many court members who haven't showed up again. I suppose it's their -- not necessarily their right, but their privilege to move on."

He sat back in his chair. "It's their funeral as well. Undoubtedly the Camarilla is monitoring the borders, to see which cowards left as soon as it came to their attention what was facing this court."

She shrugged a little, acknowledging this, and argued, "Yes, but even before then, we've had several people who just haven't showed up again... Mostly Gangrel, and I realize that they do wander, but some others... Clan Brujah just disappeared, and that was even before the whole bit with Ramses."^*

His expression was neutral. "They are another unpredictable clan."

"I don't know much about them. The Gangrel I've had dealings with, but, like the Nosferatu, I haven't had much in the way of dealings with the Brujah." Her voice dropped a little, became sardonic. "Though I will admit that what I've seen of the Nosferatu makes me like them a bit better."

Steve chuckled. "Yes -- the Nosferatu are a bit more... levelheaded than the Brujah. The Brujah are known for being thugs, rebels, Anarchs. The vast majority of Anarchs are Brujah."

Rebecca snorted. "Our recent troubles notwithstanding."^*

His voice was casual, matter-of-fact. "Most Brujah are rebels of some sort; although there are calm, peaceful, intelligent Brujah, they definitely are not the standard."

Rebecca made him smile as she replied, "Well, I suppose there needs to be rebels of anything."

He went on. "The Nosferatu, on the other hand, have survived because they are calm, and because they are wise enough not to get involved."

She amended, "Well, or only superficially so. I do notice that they're not necessarily neutral, simply not out in the open."

"Yes, they will help, for a price, as is the way of our kind -- there's always a price involved. The Nosferatu are experts at what they do. That's why I have a respect for them, for that."

There was a pause. Rebecca fidgeted, another wave of unease washing over her, and struggled as another confession made its way to the surface, amidst a desire to hide from her problems. "Heavens. I might have saved you from the bottle only to hit it myself..." At an inquiring sound, she looked up, finding him curious and a bit concerned. "I realized, even when I was thinking about how long I've been in the court -- longer than you, I think, even --" he nodded "-- that back then, even though I had Feld's protection, I didn't know how much that meant, or whether it would help at all... the newness of it was overwhelming. Then, later on, my support left -- when Jeremy was Prince, I had no one to rely on. The most I had was Ezra and, apparently, Spirit was also looking out for me, though he never said so. Then I actually formally had Spirit pledge my protection -- that was when I was getting offers right and left."^* She avoided his gaze, and sighed. "That was not..." She laughed unsteadily, "It was the feeling that I had three options, and none of them was doing nothing. Or rather, four, one of which was very distasteful. It is not a good thing to feel trapped.

"The thing is that, even now, simply by greater knowledge of Kindred, and the situations I'm in, I'm still just as frightened as I was. I suppose I've had -- not the same things, but the same number of things to fear the entire time. As I've gotten used to one, I found out about another, and there's only so long that someone can deal with that." She smiled humorlessly. "I've had to be very careful to make sure that I'm... responsible for myself. That's rather why I can understand the habits you picked up -- while alcohol may not dull pain, it certainly calms the nerves, and lets one relax a bit, and I think that even more than you did, that's something that I would need." She sighed. "Responsibility can be a bit of a bore sometimes."

Looking down at her feet, she confessed, her voice muted and trembling, "I'm just not sure how much longer I can keep this sort of thing up."

"You can stop at any time." Steven's voice was compassionate. "It isn't too late to go back."

Rebecca's shoulders shook; after a moment, she managed, "Toll-free number -- no obligation." She giggled unsteadily. "First hit's free..." She sobered a little. "I'm not sure I could stop."

"It's not too late. You could go on, live a normal life."

She said plaintively, "But I'd always wonder, wouldn't I?"

He spoke carefully. "You wouldn't even need to do that -- that can be taken care of."

"No." Her response was immediate, and she shook as she thought about the possibility of losing all memory, all knowledge of the supernatural world. After a moment, she continued, still trembling. "I suppose it might be considered a flaw, but I do consider it a virtue that I don't give up when there's still work to be done. I still have at least two allies in this court. The others I could leave behind -- that would be a small regret -- but I don't think I could live with myself if I left now." She sighed. "It's not so much the danger as it is the stress, and simple stress won't kill me; it's just wearing."

"But staying here very likely can." Steven was impassive.

She dropped her eyes, and replied, "As you said, it's not too late -- if things go sour, I can drop out."

He murmured, "All you need to do is ask me, and I can arrange it. You'll never have to worry about any of this ever again, and you can go on and live the rest of your life without wondering."

Her voice was flat and heavy with finality, as she tried to ignore the terror inspired by the thought. "I will not have my memories tampered with. It is a power that your kind uses rather freely, and that I have... resisted the application of often. It is not something I will permit."

Steven's voice was tinged with wry amusement, knowing how she had to answer. "Even if the only other choice is destruction?"

Rebecca was silent for a long time, and finally murmured, "Don't ask me to make that decision." She paused, missing his somewhat nonplussed expression. "In a way, it feels like they are much the same thing."

She went on haltingly. "It would be possible -- though it would take some doing, it would be possible -- for me to drop out of sight. Perhaps not of the Camarilla, not entirely, but to drop out of accessibility, and definitely drop out of mortal society... and not be considered a liability. I might be watched for the rest of my life, but that would be the most of it."

"Do you really want to become so separated from mortal society?" He was disbelieving.

"I could move to the East Coast and set up shop. I'm virtually certain that Sarah Donner is still alive out there, somewhere...^* though certainly not under that name, and definitely not under what she was doing." Her lips twisted. "Rebecca Nelson would doubtless cease to exist, but as I told Ezra, there's plenty of work for herbalists... on the East Coast." She smiled a little. "And it might even be possible to drop out of sight of the Camarilla."

"That would not be adviseable, with your memories intact."

"As I said, there are ways to make it not a risk. Though I assume they'd want to make certain." Steven made a sound of agreement, and she qualified, "As I said, it might not be possible to drop out of sight of the Camarilla... but I do think that it would be possible simply to be watched. I find that infinitely preferable to my other options."

She fell silent for a moment, again, and then continued, "I'm rather surprised, actually, that I don't hold more against Aaron, that he did make me forget once.^* I suspect actually that the circumstances under which he did it rather mitigated his action, but it was not something I would have permitted, had I known. The only reason I do know, of course, is that he apologized to me for it. I still don't remember what it was." She smiled, and her voice was full of wry humor. "Then again, considering that night, I probably wouldn't have anyway. Seeing a Crinos werewolf for the first time is not exactly something to keep one... stable, or really truly rational."

She sighed, and grinned with real humor. "Welcome to the Court of Contra Costa -- here, here's a Crinos werewolf eating pizza. Oh, by the way, you're surrounded by dead people... And there's this guy with static electricity all over him."^* She saw Steven grinning in return, and murmured, "I heard later he had to remove every single piece of metal from his person. That was the Mage -- I didn't know him very well... but apparently everything he touched he sparked at. I would imagine it was something that had backfired." Steven chuckled, a somewhat superior air about him; his smugness reminded her distantly that the Tremere considered Mages to be below them.

Her thoughts turned back again, driven by her anxiety and fear. "I'm just tired of being frightened."

His fingers brushed at her hair, at her chin, and he said her name softly. She looked up and he caught her eyes with his; they were an intense blue, and met her anxious gaze with one of determination. He spoke very quietly, but firmly. "I will not allow anything to happen to you. Regardless of what happens here, I will take steps to make sure that you're able to live a normal life."

Rebecca read the sincerity in his eyes, and some of his intent, but said simply, "I appreciate that. Believe it or not, I fear the Camarilla less than I fear simple random acts." She dropped her eyes. "I'm still not certain exactly how many of the court members realize that I'm mortal; I certainly don't advertise the fact -- I'm not that stupid."

She sighed. "But even as I try to relax somewhat, I'm warned again. Ezra certainly won't let me become complacent." Her voice gained a bitter, clipped edge. "And her lessons tend to be rather harsh."^*

His expression was cynical. "This is a society in which complacency is fatal -- other lessons would be much more harsh."

"Oh yes, I do know that... I don't believe I've ever become complacent in this court." Her cynicism matched his. "Though I do think I would like to at least be allowed to become more relaxed."

"Its a very hard thing to do for a mortal in a vampiric court," he replied, not unkindly.

"I would, at least, like to be able to relax somewhat around you and Ezra." The cynicism faded, leaving her merely weary, defeated. "Where I know I'm not at direct risk."

She looked up to find Steven shaking his hair free to lie across his shoulders, having taken out the ties which held it back; it was deep brown and very thick, and looked longer than it had while bound. His manner was casual, and she reflected absently that he probably wore it loose as much as tied. Thoughtfully, she murmured, "I feel that it would at least do justice to the fact that you seem to relax around me."

He looked at her for some moments; she broke his gaze and looked down. He took her hand in warm fingers and asked, very gently, "Is there anything I can do?"

"I think what you have been doing... you've been doing what you can to put me at ease, I think. I don't know how much, exactly, the warmth helps, but I would imagine it would at least help subliminally. I do appreciate the effort."

He got up and moved to stand before her; she trembled a little but didn't move, looking at his belt buckle as he caressed her. Her breath quickened a bit as he gathered up her hair, but her nerves paralyzed her. A bit of startlement broke it for a moment as he began unbuttoning her shirt, then she realized that he was loosening her collar, drawing the fabric away from her neck. She shivered again, and he smoothed a hand over her skin, murmuring, "Relax."

He bared her neck and shoulder, caressing a little, and bent, his hair falling forward and around her. A whimper escaped from her, almost without her realizing, and he pulled back a little. "Are you all right? Is something wrong?"

She shook a little, and murmured brokenly, "I don't know..."

"Are you frightened of being hurt?" He brushed his hair back. "Of my taking too much?"

"It's not --" she took a deep breath. "I don't think it's that."

He frowned a tiny bit, and asked, ever so gently, "Then what?"

"I guess it's... I'm nervous." She couldn't look at him, afraid of what he might think.

His voice was still gentle, but stronger, more confident, as he slipped his fingers under her chin and tilted her head aside again. "It's all right to be nervous." Leaning close, he kissed her neck once, then bit her deeply.

Rebecca found herself quickly overwhelmed by a wave of sensation, losing herself and all sense of what was happening. Her fear stayed with her, a sense of being out of control; her fingers grasped at Steven's back as he laid her down, resting atop her as he fed. She moaned, softly, overcome. Feeling Steven pull away, she looked up to see him above her, eyes closed, mouth open and fangs bloody, reveling in the warmth and power and pleasure. After a moment, he bent his head again, and she closed her eyes as he drank again and orgasm shuddered through her. She relaxed into it, the fear receding.

After a time, he drew away again and relaxed beside her, sated. She lay there, unmoving, slowly recovering her senses, then looked at him where he reclined beside her on the couch, a small smile of pleasure curving underneath his mustache. "That was very... intense."

His voice was rough and warm. "Yes, it was very pleasurable for me as well."

She took a shuddering breath, as the last waves of warmth tingled through her. "The thing is... I want more." He simply nodded, watching her lazily.

She murmured, half to herself, "So what do I call you? We're more than friends, and if this is a regular thing..." She turned to him idly. "What would your kind call me, now?"

He spoke slowly, languidly. "Well, our term for humans who we feed off of regularly is hardly flattering." He sat up, speaking over his shoulder. "The word we use is -- unfortunately -- herd."

She laughed a little, still giddy. "Well, I suppose that would fit." She lay there, murmuring a little to herself, trying to find a word to describe his relation to her, but unable to speak, even in her mind, the logical choice. She stopped, and let her mind drift a little, moaning almost inaudibly as a remnant of ecstasy lanced through her. Steven leaned down, and she murmured, "Such a feeling..."

He simply smiled a little more, watching her, then levered himself upright again. She caught him as he rose, saying his name softly, and he fell back again, his attention caught. She looked into his eyes, and told him passionately, "I want more of that."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he brushed her hair back from her face. "It's not safe to take any more."

She sighed. "I know, but..." Remembering, she arched her spine, laying her head back and losing herself in the memory.

Steven clenched his fist, controlling himself, and leaned over her where she lay; carefully, he bared his teeth and lightly bit her exposed neck under the chin. He took a fraction of a mouthful, enough to feel her stiffen and moan under him, then ran his tongue over the wound to close it. He shuddered at the strength of the temptation to take more, and hastily straightened, looking away.

Rebecca lay still for a moment more, then murmured, echoing his thought, "It's so hard to stop..." Slowly, she sat up next to him, feeling only a little bit lightheaded. "I remember I used to think that if someone started to take too much, I could try to stop them... I realized last time that not only would I not be able to fight, I'd probably beg them to keep going." She shivered a little at the thought, and looked at Steven beside her. He said nothing, but clenched his fists convulsively, muscles in his arms tensing like bowstrings as he restrained himself.

Frowning, she tried to catch his expression, hidden behind long hair. "Something's wrong... What is it?" Greatly daring, she drew his hair away from his face; he was expressionless, remote. "Is it hunger -- are you still hungry?"

He laughed shortly. "No, I am no longer hungry. This..." Drawing away from her, he trembled briefly again, then regained his voice. "This is lust."

As Rebecca absorbed his words, Steven got up and took the nearby armchair again, settling into it. "I didn't know you were capable of that," she managed finally.

He chuckled. "Oh, yes, we are capable of it -- it is probably what we feel the strongest. Lust for money, lust for power, lust for blood..." He laid his head back. "Lust for pleasure."

"I certainly understand the temptation," she said, chuckling weakly. "It seems I'm becoming addicted."

His voice was soft. "Many do."

Rebecca frowned a little. "Humans, or vampires?"

"Mostly humans... some vampires become addicted to being fed from as well. Mostly humans." His tone was matter-of-fact. "Addiction is usually encouraged -- all the better to feed from."

She chuckled unsteadily and blushed. "I don't think I need any help." As she hid her face a little, Steven noted her color and said lightly, "You might not want to do that with such small amounts of blood in your system..."

She laughed in earnest. "I'm not like you -- I don't need to expend it to do so. If anything, blood going to my head is probably a good thing."

Smiling ruefully, he admitted, "Sometimes it's difficult to think of mortals and the ways that they would react." He leaned forward. "I haven't been one for some time. Memories are faint, long past."

"My memories aren't always that clear -- but then, I have more to make." She didn't look at him, still afraid she might hit a sore point by reminding him that she had what he did not.

"Yes." He seemed subdued. "There are times I find myself missing mortal life. I never really took the time to watch sunsets, or sunrises... I never bothered."

"Hardly anyone does." Her voice was sympathetic. "I hardly ever see sunrises -- mostly because I'm not a morning person... but I have noticed that recently, for the past few months, I've really noticed when I go outside at three in the afternoon. That I'm walking around in the daytime... It's given me quite a sharpened appreciation about daylight." Steven chuckled dryly, and she continued. "It's really strange, in fact, sometimes, to think of certain of my acquaintances shying away from simple bright sunlight. It's something I always kind of took for granted, that I meet people at cafes at 1 in the afternoon, ten o'clock in the morning... And every so often I'll think that I want to ask Ezra about something, and realize that she's not up yet. It's not too unusual, considering that some of my clients are complete night people -- except that I can't just call her and wake her up."

"It's the little things, that you take for granted -- you don't miss them until you can never experience them again." He fell silent, musing.

Rebecca was quiet as well, until she hid her face in her hand abruptly and said, "Feld scared me tonight -- he really did..." She took a deep breath, trembling. "He always had this habit of standing very close to people, and the fact that he was six inches away from me and telling me that he would regret seeing me grow old... I'm not sure I liked the look in his eye. He wouldn't do anything, especially since I firmly told him that that was my perogative, and he simply nodded."

She fought to keep her composure, and managed, "It's little comments like that that make me realize how close I am, to someone just deciding -- perhaps that I might like life as a Kindred, perhaps that I pose a risk to the Masquerade, and should be eliminated... or simply that I'm an asset. I hear the stories that many Kindred never have a choice, that they stake out prospective people and wait..."

She shook visibly, and half-whispered into her hands, "I don't want to die."

Steven rose from his chair to stand before her, his hands on her shoulders, as she started to sob helplessly; after a moment, he gathered her to him and let her cry into his shirt. He stroked her hair and murmured a little, somewhat at a loss, as she put her arms around him and let go of her iron control.

After a time, she pulled away a little and spoke again. "It frightens me sometimes thinking about how close I came -- and how only your respect for me stopped you." She shook a little more, and whispered, "Thank you for your restraint. I couldn't be one of you..." Her throat closed up, and she trailed off.

Realizing that her refusal might still hit a nerve with her would-be sire, she said, once she mastered her voice again, "I'm sorry. I know you probably wanted me as a Tremere."

He stepped back and murmured, "I did."

She took a few deep breaths, and asked him hesitantly, "Would you still...?"

"Would I still want you as Tremere?" She nodded, and he sighed, taking a seat. Choosing his words carefully, he answered, "If you changed your mind.... Yes. But as long as you... abhor the thought of becoming one of us, I will not do that to you -- I will not make you be what you can't face being."

"Okay." She relaxed a little, calming. "I should feel safer -- but with Feld being frightening again..." She smiled weakly. "Half the time I think he let me into the court just as a potential Embrace. Maybe that wasn't his motive -- maybe he was just feeling nice that day... or saw me as a potential asset. Who knows." She sniffed, and seemed to gain a little more composure.

"I want your honest judgement," she said after a moment. "Am I safe from the Beast, with you?" She looked at him as he got up and started to pace, slowly.

He paused, choosing his words. "Yes," he said finally. "My feelings for you will give me strength to fight off the Beast."

She chuckled humorlessly, still off-balance. "Not that that makes me safer from your taking too much..."

He sat, restless. "But I will not harm you." He stroked her hair, and she realized after a moment that she was leaning into it, as though his touch were human. She blushed a little, again, and pulled back.

"I think I'll try to stand up now." She gathered herself and stood, feeling fairly normal, if a little woozy. "I feel a bit better than last time."

He smiled slightly. "I took less."

"I don't know how much you take... It took about a week to feel completely normal last time, so it probably took about two to fully recover. I suspect this will take about a week, then..." She looked over at him, where he had stood and was watching to see if she felt faint. "How often do you need to feed?"

"Generally once or twice weekly, unless I rely on the blood heavily, in which case I need to feed more frequently." He didn't seem puzzled at the apparent non-sequitur.

"And here the blood bank tells you to wait two or three months between donations." She smiled with genuine humor, then sobered. "I suppose the question I should be asking is, how long until I'm back to strength? Do you know? I mean, I suppose I could ask one of my medical friends, but I don't know how much you took."

He shook his head. "I don't know for certain... Biology never was my strong point. I do know more about blood than your average person, but not that much."

She chuckled. "I don't know much about physiology, other than how to cure colds, and allergies, and hypochondria..." She smiled wryly as he snorted. "You wouldn't believe -- half the people suffering from 'the horrible flu' aren't. I humor them..."

She swayed a little, and he caught her, easing her back onto the couch. "Will you be all right?"

Her tone was faint. "Yes, I think so." His proximity heated her blood, and she had to fight the temptation to reach for him; his tension told her he felt it as well. She turned her face away, into the hand that was cradling her. After a moment, she murmured, "I should see you out."

He countered, "No, you stay here. Rest."

"Ridiculous as it seems to spend the night on my own couch..." She tried to rise, and he smiled.

"Well then, I'll see you to your bed." He helped her up, bracing her against his shoulder, and helped her into the other room. She stumbled a little in the doorway, and he put an arm around her to steady her; her lips brushed against the inside of his wrist, and they both paused, his tension telling her something was unusual about the unintended pose.^* He pulled away and guided her to her bed, pulling the covers back and tucking her in.

"I feel like an ungracious hostess, not seeing you out..." she began.

Steven stopped her firmly. "No, you need to rest." As he stood up and paused for a moment at the foot of her bed, she could feel the desire in him; she tried to ignore her racing pulse, reminding herself that she didn't have any more for him to take. He said quietly, "I'll show myself out."

At the door, he paused, bowed slightly, and said, "Good night." When she murmured in return, he turned and exited, closing the door behind him. After a moment, she heard the front door close, and soft footsteps on the stairs, then silence. After a while she slept, and dreamed.

Footnotes

Latin. Rebecca knows Latin from her herbalist training, and has learned during her time in the court that the Tremere often use it for confidential conversations.

"what I'm doing". Allowing Steven to feed from her.

"lose control". Occasionally Kindred lose their self-control and give in to their animal natures (the beast); the loss of control is known as frenzy, and tends to be fatal to those around them.

a sorority party. Ezra and Rebecca caught Steven feeding after the night of the Anarch Revolt; see the timeline.

"other things". Such as the fact that Steven loves a mortal.

"heard the news". The word that the Camarilla had set a deadline for the court.

Jennifer. Jennifer Clearwater had made an unexpected appearance at court, to negotiate the beginnings of a new treaty.

Feld. Feld also came to the court, having been revived by the Tremere after his rescue.

Sarah Donner. The mortal FBI agent who took Rebecca in hand when Rebecca first came to the court.

"unseen". Some Kindred have the ability to become invisible, using the discipline of Obfuscate.

"to see the unseen". A reference to the discipline Auspex, which can allow Kindred to enhance their senses, sometimes detecting someone in Obfuscate.

"second set of orbs". Teresa Garrison introduced Steven and Rebecca so that they could investigate the possibility of another pair of magical orbs, such as the court had already encountered. See the timeline.

"the whole martial law bit". A while earlier, the Sabbat had gotten so out of control in San Francisco that the Camarilla had to have martial law declared on the city to clean it up.

Elise. Feld's childe, a young Malkavian. She was later accused of conspiracy against Prince Jeremy Archdeacon, who traded her to the Black Spiral Dancers for Riley, his ex-Sheriff.

"imposing opinion on the court". Steven had displayed to the court the fangs of two traitors, the Malkavians Gra and Obsidian, strung on a necklace as trophies.

"the whole bit with Ramses". Ramses, the Brujah Primogen, had revealed himself several weeks earlier to be an Assamite, a Kindred bounty hunter. He left with his bounty immediately afterward.

"our recent troubles". There had been no Brujah present during the Anarch Revolt, despite their stereotype for being the main troublemakers.

"offers right and left". When Steven offered her the Embrace, Rebecca was also propositioned by the Mage Marcus D'Canti to become an apprentice, and by Spirit Interface to become an honorary kinfolk.

"still alive". In October of '98, word came to the court that the two FBI agents, Roger and Sarah, had been killed. Though Roger's body was found hung from the Golden Gate Bridge with red tape, rumor had it that Sarah's death had been faked.

"Welcome ..." Rebecca had walked in on Spirit Interface in his war-form (wolf-man), who was entranced into eating pizza, while the Mage who had brought him out of frenzy earlier, Micah, was dealing with the aftereffects of a spell. It had been a busy night.

"her lessons". After dealing with Steven at the sorority party, Ezra had decided to teach Rebecca a lesson about Kindred abilities. See the timeline.

"something was unusual". Had she been thinking clearly, she might have remembered that the wrist was a symbol of feeding, and his comments about Kindred being fed from.