The music of the cloud pounded against the concrete walls that had, at some point or another, been slathered with every human fluid possible. Drunken teenagers swayed around in the middle of the dance floor, the remnants of their drinks forming wet circles on the bar. Others were splayed over various pieces of furniture, lost in the delusional belief that they really were the supernatural creatures they imitated. Their eyes were dull with drugs, seeing beyond the borders of consciousness.

Euthalia sat on a couch upon the balcony, seemingly oblivious to both the music and the children that draped themselves over her club. Instead, she read a book in the original Latin, absorbing every word while eyes the colour of Caribbean seas washed over every word. She’d read the book before, but she picked up something new every time.

If anyone in the club thought it was in the least bit particular that a young child of six, wearing clothing that was horribly out of date, was sitting in the middle of a club, drugs and booze about her… well, they never said anything. One woman had had the audacity to call Child Protective Services once. It had been impressed upon her, later in the evening (after the situation had been dealt with) that that was unacceptable.

Things had been terribly quiet lately, and it was for this reason and no other that Euthalia had been lax in maintaining her façade. She was, for the first time in quite some time, beginning to act her age in public.

Some didn’t know whether to be relieved or frightened.

William, spending every waking hour exploring this city of his rebirth, had decided that it may have been time to get back on the road and as such drove his rig back down to the warehouse district to pick up a load that just needed to be taken to Toronto.

It had been less than a week since he had entered into the fight with Dmitri that resulted in his becoming a vampire, but it was an experience that he had come to relish almost immediately. The release of inhibitions and the freedom to explore those repressed feelings of death and destruction he had developed during Vietnam were exhilarating.

Death followed him now, it covered him in fact beginning with the hooker that was his first kill, to the mother and toddler at the mall and most recently his date to the charity event that he had committed to while still mortal last night and even between those milestones he had murdered for recreation.

As he crossed the district at night, something he had never done before being on a day shift previously, he noted a glow of neon emanating from the edges of a building up the road. Deciding the shipment could wait he decided to explore and drove his truck to the source of the neon glow.

Parking his rig across the street he eyed it through his passenger side window. It appeared to be a club of some form that seemed to host Goths or vampires, he really couldn’t tell. Up to this point he was aware of coven names, but had not given Dmitri the chance to show him the coven strongholds or educate him fully on the coven leaders. He did not realize that The Sinister Puppet was the coven stronghold for the Tarepha, the coven that most interested him based on the education he received to date. It was days before he would reconnect with his sire and he thought a little fun may be in order.

Jumping out of the rig and locking it behind him he walked over to the club entrance looking anything but a normal patron.

He stepped into this scene of debauchery and self loathing and it put a smile on his face. Standing there with the light of the street lamp behind him he garnered a couple looks. He was wearing cowboy boots, blue jeans, a red flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a worn cowboy hat. But what really made him stand out was the fact that he was by all appearances mid-fifties or older.

Feet tucked underneath her, Euthalia appeared to be composed of a head, two arms, and a lacy torso. Even with her head bowed, and her brown curls loose around her face, she still seemed to stand out against the black and grey walls. She was the exclamation point at the end of an incomprehensible statement.

The pressure at the back of her mind didn't warrant her notice as it usually did, and it was only when Cheveyo crouched next to her that she looked up. For a moment, there was a certain vulnerability on her face, a confusion created by being pulled out of the world she'd been immersed in. Then, her mask was smoothed into place, like spackle onto a wall.

"What is it?"

Cheveyo shook his head, and then looked at something beyond her. "Nothing, probably. A member not of our coven simply entered the vicinity."

"I have no rules against that."

"I know."

Euthalia touched his cheek with a gentleness she rarely showed. They didn't say anything further, because they didn't need to. He was by her to ensure her protection, not because she needed it, but because he needed to give it.

Standing, she walked to the railing and looked down at the crowd. Folding her hands on the railing, she simply looked over the railing, leaning her head down. It was easy to spot who the vampire must be the independent. He stood out as much as she seemed to, though for an entirely different reason.

She said nothing, did nothing - only watched.

William walked up to the bar and ordered a bottled beer. The bartender gave him a funny look but served him just the same. Taking the beer he removed a bill from his upper pocket and threw it onto the bar, “keep the change.” Leaning forward he took a deep drink from the bottle and sighing removed it from his lips and eyed it appreciatively.

Without any real warning a Goth that seemed to have taken offense to the cowboy trucker’s presence moved across the room and grabbed William’s shoulder and attempted to spin him around. The cowboy did not budge and the Goth, somewhat high, slid off the shoulder ripping the shirt and fell to the ground.

As the Goth scurried to his feet William eyed the ripped shirt and slowly turned and leaned back against the bar watching as the drugged human started yelling at him. “Buddy this bar isn’t for your kind. It’s a place for our kind the undead,” and he flashed his fake fangs in an attempt to intimidate him. As he was yelling at William several of his mortal wannabe’s started gathering around him like they were going to join him in kicking William’s ass.

They started shouting and hissing. William let them, eyeing them as a predator waiting for the right moment. His right moment would be when he finished his beer. This was evident to any real vampire with any level of telepathy.

Slowly he took a deep sip of the beer leaving two more before he would be finished. The crowd was growing in agitation as a result of his failure to be intimidated.

A slight frown tugged at the space between her brows, and Euthalia's mouth thinned into a line that was practically invisible. She looked over her shoulder and saw Cheveyo standing there, waiting for her to make the first move. Staring at him for a long moment before turning back, she considered her options. They appeared in her mind as a list, weighing cause and effect.

Euthalia had no telepathy at all, but she had learned how to watch. There was something in the independent's face that said that he was simply biding his time, and that, when that time ran out, there would be a bloody reckoning. That was all very well and fine, but this was her club. No matter what happened down in the tunnels after hours, she wanted to keep its reputation as clean as its rather shady clientel would allow.

If he broke the rules, she would be required to kill him. Forgetting for a moment that that would mean more blood on her floors, there was always the possibility that he was affiliated with someone who would decide to come and seek vengeance of some sort.

The very thought of it made Euthalia roll her eyes.

Vaguely annoyed, she motioned to Cheveyo to follow only if necessary, and proceeded down the steps, the bottoms of her shoes making the metal reverberate.

Taking another swig of his beer he continued to watch with cool anticipation the growing aggression of the crowd of wannabe vampires.

Straightening up in preparation of finishing his beer his ears picked up the out of place footfalls of a little girl’s shoes on the metal stairs across the club. Blocking out the sound of the crowd he focused on the surroundings.

William was ignorant of the club rules, its owner or the repercussions of violating either. There was something going on here though. Analyzing the room he noted that the real vampires intermingled with these mortals, but did not harm them, as far as he could see. Second this little girl seemed to draw weary eyes from these vampires indicating that she was someone of note, if not importance. These two things put together provided him with that sensation he used to get before he found himself in real trouble.

It was enough to postpone his plan. Turning his back on the crowd he finished the beer and ordered another one, which the bartender complied with before backing off quickly.

The hair raised on the back of William’s neck.

Perhaps it was because she had grown accustomed to being watched, or perhaps it was simply that she didn't notice, but Euthalia only had eyes for the root of the little misunderstanding. Her white shoes reached the cold concrete, and she paused for a moment to smooth out the lace of her dress. For a moment, she looked back over the crowd.

Walking forward, her face seemed to suddenly mould into something completely different. This face was open, friendly, and above all else, innocent. This child's face seemed to have swallowed the cold, calculating one that had been in its place only moments before.

She slipped between two of the Goths, one of whom looked surprised to see her, and the other that just considered her part of the decor. Coming up next to the independent, she clambered her way in true kid-fashion onto the stool and sat next to him, her feet swinging back and forth.

"Hello!" she said, smiling. "You're new here. I don't think you've learned the rules yet." She shook her head slowly at him.

William held his drinking position at the bar, but turned his head to look at the child next to him.

The pure innocent appearance of the girl set against the backdrop of this club spoke volumes to the potential true nature of this fellow anomaly. “No I don’t suppose I have. Just found the place and walked in a few minutes ago.”

Taking a drink of his beer, “But I imagine that patrons looking to pick fights with other patrons is within the rules, or perhaps its just lucky for me you saved me from these unruly pokes.” With that comment he turned his body towards the little girl sitting on the stool.

Remembering his basic manners as a trained gentleman, “My name is William little lady, what’s yours? And I would appreciate knowing the club rules since you have made me aware that there are rules”

Euthalia laid both her hands down on the counter in front of her. A Shirley Temple was placed down in front of her, and she bent to take a drink from the straw, looking at the man out the corner of her eyes. Then, resting her head on her hand, her smile came back, more subdued.

"You just wandered in without knowing where you were? No wonder you're lost." Her small finger twirled the straw. "It's okay to beat up the patrons if you're a patron, and you want to be dead. Beating people up leads to them being dead, which leads to blood all over the place - again - and people coming in with yellow tape and police. Just like they did when someone asked about me being here."

She turned around on her stool, so that her back was towards the bar. "There's only one real rule, and that's that you really shouldn't kill people. It's naughty, and Santa won't bring you any Christmas presents."

Then, cocking her head to the side, she asked, "Just how old are you anyways?"

She completely disregarded the name question, for now.

It seemed like an odd question, but he figured what the hell by this time he sensed she was a fellow vampire.

Rubbing his chin, the out of place and aged Harvard graduate ring glinted off the eerie lighting within the club. “Well I guess that depends on the context of the question. You could say that I am a man in his mid-fifties or you could say I am less than a week old.” William was not ashamed or shy about being new on the scene, he was what he was and it was that simple at this point in his life.

He turned his body to mirror her posture and keep an eye on the lurking patrons who were obviously waiting for him to be left alone. They way he figured it, at this point, is these upstarts just became meals to go.

Continuing in his reply, “but appearances aren’t everything.” There was no veil in his reference to her appearance, but a gentleman never asked a lady her age, even a savage one.

Soft brown eyebrows rose almost to meet her hairline, and she turned to look him up and down, appraisal in her glance. When they lowered, there was an expression of severe understanding on her face. It made her seem far older than her bone structure could show.

"Oh," she said, "that explains it." She closed her eyes for a moment, waving to Cheveyo in a way that said, I can take care of this myself. She looked at him. "I am Euthalia Akakios. I have to wonder... does that name mean anything to you?"

If anything, his comment peeled away the act even further, leaving her with only a cynical quirk of her mouth. "No, they most certainly are not."

His eye wandered up to the balcony where she had left an observing figure that stood vigil over her. He could tell that basically she told this man on the balcony to heel. This reinforced by the fact she said her name like it mattered made it all that more important to not be disrespectful, but on the other hand he did not have any idea of appropriate custom on how to deal with vampire players or leadership. He would have to wing it.

“No ma’am I can’t say your name means anything to me. But as we have already discussed I am new on the scene so if it should, please don’t take offense.” This child could be important in the vampire community and as a trained politician of sorts it was always good to at least not create a potentially unmanageable situation out of the gate. Who knows this Euthalia could be a valuable teacher. It is one thing to survive as vampire as a man of over six feet tall, but conceptually an awesome feet to do so in the body of child. Her lessons by their very nature could be as valuable, if not more so than those of his sire.

It seemed to Euthalia that she was far too used to people simply knowing who she was once she stated her name. Looking at this man, he knew nothing about her beyond the fact that for one, she was a vampire, and for second, she appeared to be a child. There was something both terribly infuriating, and terribly liberating about the opportunity.

Instead of being angry, however, she was as composed as ever. "I am not offended. Merely a tad surprised. Has your sire taught you nothing of covens thus far?" Her tone implied her distaste. "It's a great mistake in a town such as this, where all five sit upon the edges of each other's territory, and where a single altercation can ripple throughout the community."

One finger twirled about in her hair, even as her eyes never left his face. "It was terribly fortunate that you did not break one of the rules of the Tarepha. Whether you are lucky for wandering in here or not remains to be seen."

At the mention of Tarepha, William perked up as though the needed piece to a puzzle was delivered to him.

“My sire was teaching me the basics when we parted ways. He had business to take care of and I wanted to explore this new body and its capabilities. I have not yet taken in the lessons of the covens at this time beyond their names. The focus of the next lesson was to include a tour of the coven strongholds, leadership and their politics when I next meet up with him in a couple of days.”

Taking a drink of his beer, in order to give himself a moment to digest a thought that just formed as he examined his reply, he realized who and what this child must be no matter how inconceivable it appeared.

The pieces started to add up. Euthalia had a definitive effect on the patrons, the bodyguard, the bartender’s immediate response, the tonal changes as the discussion continued, and the surety that he should know her name and now multiple references to adherence to rules as though they were hers.

Tilting his head slightly he pushed his hat back a bit and with a stark realization in his voice he replied, the nature of which suggested the unspoken words to start his sentence were ‘Oh shit.’

“I have walked into the Tarepha stronghold and you must be the leader.” William closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face.

At his words, she seemed to sit up a little straighter, seemed to be a little more commanding. Some dark humour was in her eyes, floating on the surface. "Yes. I am the leader. I apologize for not introducing myself, but it's usually superfluous in our close-knit community. It's hard to keep someone like myself out of gossip."

She slid off her stool, and looked at him, pleased. "You understand now why I intervened. We have few rules here, but those that we have must be followed. Had you gotten violent, I would have been forced to punish you - kill you, since you are not of my coven. The 'how' remained completely up to my discretion."

Looking up, she pointed to several of the dolls hanging from meat hooks, swaying meters above the club. For the most part, it was easy to spot that they were simply rubber, but there was one where the decay seemed all too real.

"But," she said, her voice overly polite, and minutely mocking, "don't let me give you a tarnished view of my coven before your sire has the opportunity of instructing you on just how horrible we really are. Really. We are not to be trusted at any cost, and we periodically kill other members and chew on their flesh for the sheer fun of it all."

Her words though genuine in their warning nature were also just as enticing. If he was to become a member of a coven it was bound to be this one. After all, his sire was a member of this coven.

The benefits of coven membership were still to be analyzed and weighed, but something about this leader intrigued him. He had a couple choices at this time. First, he could make his way out of the club while it was still relatively safe. Second, he could test the water with the fact his sire was Dmitri, a Tarepha. The second option was risky not understanding the rules yet.

Then there was a third option. That option was to acknowledge the calculated and monstrous nature of his being. He opted for a hybrid option.

“I doubt my sire will paint this coven as horrible as he is Tarepha. I learned this from what turned out to be a Nephim vampire when she was trying to stop me from picking a fight with him that fateful night I was turned. And to be fair since my turning I have not been anything less than a calculating monster myself and I love the carnage and fear I have had opportunity to create.” His grin exposed the inherited double row of teeth his body adapted from his sire.

All the emotion seemed to drain out of her face, like used bathwater out of a tub. She simply looked at him, and there was something heavy in it. It had nothing to do with any sort of preternatural ability, it was just sort of an air that she could put on or shed like a cloak.

"Not at all humble, are we?" Euthalia said, her soft and dry. "We all love carnage and fear. It is what makes us what we are, and to embrace it is to have a strength that none of the other covens can quite duplicate." She took a step closer. "But your achievements will not win you any praise in this court. If you have done it, someone here has probably done it before." Something swam under her skin.

Backing up, she turned and looked at him over her shoulder. "Carnage, I can believe you have, but fear... Maybe the sort of panic that comes before death, but not the all-encompassing fear that you could have. There are things more precious to people than their lives. Not many, but a few."

Turning, she began to mount the stairs. "You may join me if you wish. It's time for my tea party. My guests are waiting."

William held his tongue on the proud boast of the fact that anything he accomplishes would be but a copycat maneuver. This was obviously a challenge or a hint on how to gain this leader’s favor. He simply placed his beer done onto the bar and said, “I would be honored to attend your tea party,” and followed Euthalia up the stairs to her balcony.

As he walked the idea of achieving the ability to cause fear on a large scale raced through his mind. She could be the master he sought. Dmitri would be a terrific mentor in the carnal and barbaric nature of being Tarepha, assuming his woman allowed him. The idea of that his sire was whipped made his sneer. But more to the task of achieving what he had become to believe to be true vampire nature, this little master would be the one he wanted, no needed to instruct him.

Nevertheless, how would he gain her favor so that she would be willing to invest that kind of time into him? He decided he would bide his time and be ever watchful for attack or opportunity.

She climbed the stairs like she didn't realize she was being followed, despite the fact that it was she herself that had issued the invitation. It seemed like all the eyes were on the two vampires, opposite from each other in almost every single visible way, as they mounted their way to Euthalia's room.

There was a hallway tucked in the back, so poorly lit it was even hard for vampires to see. The doors on either side were painted black, and some questionable sounds emerged from their depths. Screams, grunts, the telltale sound of flesh being cut, and, of course, the sound of innards slipping from an open wound. This didn't seem to faze Euthalia, who walked towards the end of the hall with a purpose. It was easy to see which room was hers - it was the one with the white door, beckoning like a beacon in the darkness.

The room that lay beyond was, at the same moment, the very thing you wouldn't expect, and the very thing you had anticipated.

There were no torture devices upon the walls. There were no skeletons upon the ground. No rotting corpses hanging from the ceilings.

What there was was lace - white lace - and lots of it. To the right, a huge canopied bed with overly girly pillows spilling out over the top. White plush carpet, and faintly pink walls gathered around a small white table, covered in tea dishes that were rimmed in roses. From around the walls, the eyes of dozens of dolls stared blankly out, smiles permanently etched upon their faces. Even these smiles, however, seemed strained, like they were afraid what would happen if they stopped. That was probably due to one or two that were lacking eyes.

There were only three things to suggest that this was really the room of the Tarepha leader: one, that if you looked carefully enough, you could see drops of blood here and there upon the dolls' clothing. Two, that on the wall opposite the door, partially hidden by lacy curtains, there was what seemed to be shackles on the wall, and a suspicious area where the pink of the wall was a bit darker. Three, there was a man - vampire, rather - sitting at the table, staring blankly at nothing despite the fact that he was bleeding all over.

Euthalia strode into this room, all smiles. It was a different smile, though. There was something cruel in it. "Edward, do you think it polite not to rise for our guest, or even to say hello?" The vampire did nothing, just continued to stare. Walking around the table, Euthalia sat next to him, and patted him on the knee. To William, she said, rather apologetically, "You'll have to excuse Edward. He thinks he's dead."

Edward, for his part, only barely flinched when she touched him.

Holding up the teapot, Euthalia said, "Tea?"

The sights were not familiar, nor shocking, nor surprising. The smells and sounds he did encounter in mortal life throughout various experiences that he had. The difference this time was a sense of pleasure derived by the senses.

As they crossed the threshold of the white door he took in the room’s entire environment. Noticing the room’s layout and the room within the room as Euthalia crossed the room and took her place at the table.

She seemed to take pleasure in the plight of the vampire that sat motionless at the table; a vampire that she said believed he was dead. Then she did as she said she would and offered tea. In preparation for anything that might come out of the spout he crossed the room to join her at the table. “Why thank you ma’am I would enjoy a cup of tea.”

As he situated himself at the table, he removed his hat and set it down on the chair beside him and briefly addressed Edward with a polite smile, “its okay Edward. I was dead just a couple of days ago, it gets better.”

Returning his attention to Euthalia as the tea was being prepared, “I imagine that being the leader of a coven whose membership’s primary instincts are reactive and not proactive must be difficult. Being one who has studied management and led men myself, I am curious as to your management strategy for organizing and focusing these resources.”

Euthalia tipped the teapot over a cup that was situated in front of William, pouring steaming tea that seemed a bit more red than usual. She then poured one for herself, and even went so far as to pour one for Edward next to her. Smiling at him, she took one of the decorative biscuits and placed it on his saucer, giving him a pat on the shoulder. The only sign that he knew she was there was the faintest twitch of one eye.

Finding something in William's words amusing, Euthalia allowed herself a small chuckle. "Edward has been a vampire for close to three centuries. He is no stranger to the fringes of death that every vampire exists upon, but that is not what I meant. I meant that he thinks he is dead, gone and damned for all eternity." Her smile to the vampire was positively lovely.

Picking up her cup, she sipped delicately, before holding her up before her face, peering over the brim. The smile was still there, but she was more business oriented now. "I try my best to instill them with a sense of loyalty and commitment to this coven. We are great as we are, but with all of us together, we could be awe inspiring. It is my true belief that we must use every nuance of ourselves to our advantage. That's what I hope to accomplish, and I believe that the Tarepha, once they emerge from the bloody, bloody holes that the previous leader dug for them - they will see it too.

"As for my management strategy - I give them freedom. They have the choices to do what they wish, when they wish. I expect respect, however, and will not tolerate it when it is not given, just as I will not tolerate feuds among members. You can dislike someone, but that does not require that you remove their intestines and staple gun them to the wall." She shrugged. "I am fair, but I am hard. If you break a rule, you will be punished. There is a certain amount of fear that goes into that as well, and I will admit that there is always the chance that that will breed resentment. I think, though, that so long as I don't go about terrorizing my own members, and so long as they abide by my few simple rules, there should no need for animosity between any of us."

As he took a sip of the tea, making sure not to show any reaction but appreciation, he continued the conversation that they had both at this point informally agreed to conduct.

Placing it back onto the saucer, “Sounds like a sound philosophy, but how do you maintain tabs on the coven to ensure that they are adhering to the rules that go with the freedom you have granted. I learned enough to know that there are vampire police called Amman. Do you depend on them to identify individuals who deserve the individual punishments or death that are tied to the rules?”

William was reflecting on matrix management where even the elements left to manage themselves have some formal structure or facilitating process or organization to observe and enforce. “For instance, do you have your own secret police?”

Euthalia's face became colder, like there was ice under all the unblemished skin. She, too, set down her cup, but in doing so, was deliberately slow. "The Amman are a group of individuals too caught up in their own sense of importance to be caught doing business with the likes of me. In their age, they often grow confident and cocky in their own abilities. Many forget, that should I have chosen, I could have been among their ranks."

She waved away the issue. "I have been wanting to implement a system of castes or ranks for my members, but we are so far widespread that I have been contemplating the best course of action. I would not want to proceed rashly, only to have my plans fail."

Shrugging, she continued, "In the meantime, I have a few individuals I trust that I rely upon." Pausing, she looked at something beyond the room. "One in particular. You might have seen him this evening." A soft smile crossed her face. "I think he was ready to kill you."

William smiled with a content recognition. “I wouldn’t doubt that ma’am. Cowboys and Indians have been at one another for years.”

“It has been my experience they prefer to sneak up behind you when about to strike or perhaps scalp a perceived enemy, but tonight I would prefer your bodyguard just touch me with a stick and call it counting coup. Unless I have done something to offend you I don’t know that we have cause to be enemies just yet.”

He picked up his tea and took another drink. Not flinching or showing indication of fear. William was very aware that she could have him executed or captured at any given time and that was a potential fate he accepted, very much like the night he had resigned himself to die at the hands of his sire.

“Besides, I am enjoying our talk and find myself wondering if you could use a cowboy to go with that Indian.”

"Cheveyo is protective, that is all," said Euthalia, leaning back in her chair, her arms folded over her chest. "And as for him, there is nothing ordinary about him in the least. His methods are quite... unique." She smiled like someone proud of their own accomplishments, instead of one who was proud of another's. In her head, they went together, and that was that.

Raising one shoulder in a shrug she said, "You have done nothing to offend me thus far." There was a sense that she was simply waiting for him to say the wrong thing, so she could show him exactly what she meant by 'punishment'. Her face was carefully neutral, though, so there was nothing concrete to betray her.

In the middle of filling up her cup, she stopped, and placed a hard look on the man across the table. "If you are asking to join my coven, that is one thing. If you are asking to stand by my side in the same capacity as Cheveyo, that is quite another. Clarify."

There was something dangerous swimming in her eyes.

He smiled politely. “It would be presumptuous for me to assume that I am ready to stand as a confidant or officer in your company at this time. I would appreciate consideration to join your coven as yours appears to fit well with what I have become. Though I would add this caveat or request.”

Pausing briefly, “I am now a vampire, but I am still William and as such I study, learn and excel at being whatever I am. My sire will be an outstanding mentor in the basics, but at the end of the day he is a warrior of an ancient time and has not adapted to the times and his base instincts still lie in the physical nature otherwise I would not exist today.”

Again pausing to allow time to digest this next thought, “Downstairs you mentioned being capable of creating fear on a great scale and in this talk we have shared intellectual concepts and though I would hope this is not outside of the norm for interacting with your members, it sounds as though it may. As such, I would seek to one day be worthy of becoming one you trust with the business of the coven and as such would ask you to, if I am first worthy to join, consider providing me additional mentors and mentorship in becoming a future Tarepha agent and leader in your future organization plan.”

Realizing that she is of an old time that rivaled the ancients he lowered his head in a fashion that universally indicated that he now placed his life into her hands to with as she wished.

Euthalia propped her elbows on the table and rested her head upon her hands, blue-green eyes regarding the person in front of her carefullly. It seemed that her skin seemed to be a little thinner than previously, her eyes just a little darker, but for the most part, her expression was neutral. She could go any which way, depending upon the external stimuli.

When she found whatever it was she was looking for, she slowly stood up. "You're right. It would be presumptuous - and preposterous as well. I would not allow you to share my thoughts, my whims, my plans when I know nothing of you, of your character, or of the frailities that could be exploited by the very people I seek to control. Why would I give you power over the very thing I find most precious?"

She turned away from him, clasping her hands behind her back. "You have my permission to join my coven."

Facing him, it seemed like the bones in her face had become more pronounced. "You may seek. Whether you achieve your goal remains to be seen."

William raised his head from the supplicated position that it was in, “I thank you for the opportunity to join the coven. Is there more to joining than requesting to become a member? What are the rules that I must abide by? And as a member is there an expected way for a member of this coven to address you?”

As he spoke and waited upon her reply his thoughts began to organize. He would have his sire instruct him on the coven rules and politics and identify the opportunities that he could exploit to begin building a portfolio for his new coven leader to review at a later date.

In a distracted gesture, she waved it away again. "Yes, yes. That is all that is required to join - to get my permission, which you have done. Of course, staying a member requires that you adhere to the rules and not do whatever you wish."

Euthalia sat down again, sitting stalk straight in her chair. "The rules are very much common sense. Respect, first and foremost. Do not kill those I would seek to unify - in other words, don't let your brawls get out of hand with your fellow coven members. If you quarrel with another coven member, and it escalates, I am to be informed. Don't bring your business into the club - it is our primary source of income at this time."

She shrugged. "Most everyone addresses me as Ms. Akakios. I have no problem with it. My first name is, however, off limits."

William looked at his leader. “The coven is accumulating revenue? Not that I need know the reason why, but is there an immediate need for money to achieve one of the objectives you have eluded to in establishing the new era for the coven.”

As a mortal, and to continue into his immortality, William was going to remain a successful businessman. Already independently wealthy a couple of million dollars over he was prepared to infuse his new leader with a half-million dollars by tomorrow night. If this went through, he would not expect her trust or respect but perhaps would have made an important first step in demonstrating his commitment to his word.

No matter what his species, William was one to stand by his word, fulfill his obligations and stand with his tribe, whoever they may be.

Euthalia was cautious.

"We are," she said. Truth be told, she was a tad curious as to why his brain had latched onto that one fact. Had it been her, there were a million other things she would have been prepared to ask first. She gave a mental shrug. "Money is what makes things possible in this day and age. It is an age of commerce, and we bring in quite a bit with this club, among other less... public ways."

What she meant was that Euthalia was a strong business woman. Only, if you double crossed her, you usually ended up dead with all your assets strangely left to her or Cheveyo.

There was suspcion in her voice when she said, "Why?"

“The straight answer is two-fold. First, I was and will continue to be business and legal professional. Second I am not a poor man, in fact, I am quite wealthy. That said, I may not be able to immediately distinguish myself in the coven in carnage, fear, or any of the other things I still have to learn about being a vampire, but I can set myself apart in business and logistics.”

He saw that his interest had piqued hers. Remembering her earlier words, “I am offering the coven a half-million US dollars, at the risk that others have done this before. I do this with the clear understanding that it will not earn me any favor.”

Of course, he hoped it would at least be a building block to a foundation he had yet to lay with her.

He might have expected her to be thankful, or grateful, or at least to pretend to be these things. If anything, it only made the lines in her face more suspicious. It was a look that didn't belong on her young face.

"Why?" she asked again, but this time there was more emphasis on that one word. "Why would you donate half a million dollars to a coven you've just joined? Why do you crave my favour? I have offered nothing, save a place in the Tarepha." She paused. "Most people clutch their money to their bosoms, thinking it the most valuable thing they have. Why would you part with it when in decades, centuries, millenia, you could have need of it?"

This was coming from someone who'd never given anything without a guarantee that she'd receive something in return.

He smiled at her understanding her suspicion being the leader of a group that looks out for themselves. This was in its own way a selfish act on William’s part and even though it would probably help her to trust the gift he held on to this personal knowledge.

“Euthalia, in this global economy a half-million dollars is not hard to earn back and is not as significant a gift as it sounds. Perhaps the context from which we are approaching this is the communication block.”

Pausing a second, “With one of my base investments that I do not touch I earn approximately $360,000 annual in interest, and I have not made any serious outside investments with that money since starting this over a decade ago. As to the why I am doing this that is simple. I am now a stakeholder in this coven, to put it in the simplest of business terms, and since it requires money to do whatever it is doing I am looking to ensure my future investment of time and energy. My selfish acts will be through the growth and development of this coven. I am confident that you will come to rely on me, maybe even like me. But I would not trust me anymore than is reasonable. Like you I am a long term thinker who will most likely never gain an advantage over you, but will succeed in seeking out a high place beneath you in the future.”

Removing the smile, “I am willing to just be an automaton vampire that brings no value to the coven if that is what you prefer.”

Truth be told, he did not understand why this elder leader was not just taking the money and was concerned as to motives after she had taken the energy to speak of her superiority and stable position. Why not keep up the play they were enjoined in by taking the money and sending him on his way without a thought?

If looks could kill... Well, Euthalia's wouldn't kill, but it would maim horribly. William would have lost a limb, at the very least. He'd called her by her first name after she'd expressly told him that it was off limits. It made her wonder at him, that he couldn't even follow her wishes in the short amount of time he'd known her. He felt familiar enough with her to call her by her first name, was it? It made her blood turn cold, and not with fear.

She'd been other people's little girl for far too long. She was not about to surrender what little power and authority she'd gained.

Her voice was bored. "If you remain within my coven long enough, you will find that there is almost no one I like. Respect, perhaps, but not like."

There was no point in even commenting on the rest of it. He might succeed in winning her favour, or he might not. She was betting on the latter.

"I will accept the money."

No emotion. No nothing.

Though William had failed to switch from the familiar tone of the earlier conversation to that of the formal one that should exist between coven member and leader it yielded very interesting results. It was an easy mistake as in today's business world CEO's are called by first name in conversation.

This leader was not secure in her position or in herself. That would create difficulty in formulating a longer term strategy.

William looked at the upset girl before him. “I apologize, most humbly, as I recognize I failed to move from the informal nature of our conversation to the appropriate one, Ms. Akakios.”

“As for the money, I will FedEx you with the account information tomorrow.” There was little else he had to discuss so he took up the demeanor that he was awaiting to be dismissed.

Or, perhaps it was that the leader in question was from a time of formality, where the different classes were treated differently. That, coupled with the fact that she wished to have her title reflect her intellect and not her size, made the slip up more than it would have been to anyone else. Euthalia had never had casual friends or business associates. She'd tried once, and failed. Now, there was only her and the formal relationships she collected.

She nodded once in reply to his apology. Seeing that he wished to be dismissed, she fiddled with the idea of keeping him sitting there, but that would require small talk, and that was not something she did.

"You may leave."

William stood up placing his hat onto his head and turned to the door from whence he came. He took the opportunity to make some last mental notes of Euthalia’s room on his way out, in particular the location that the bodyguard took position in while she conducted business.

He returned to the main bar area where he had first met her, “Give me another beer,” he said to the man behind the counter. Once again the natives started getting restless while he stood there ignoring them drinking his beer.

Smiling to himself he reflected that the rule was, ‘not in the club.’

Tomorrow he would set up the offshore account with the money and send her the necessary documents in a FedEx after 5pm shipment. He was interested to see where it would go.