Nine Lives

Nine Lives
Part II

~*~

I left the Asp Hole in a hurry, no sense in sticking around while you’re waiting for police to come by and investigate a murder. As soon as I left the front entrance of the club, as smoothly as I could without being noticed, I was met face to face with a long black limo sitting on the curb.

At first I tried to play it off, like maybe some big movie star had come to spend a couple of hours at the Asp Hole with its important clientele. But who was I kidding? This was LaCroix’s limo.

He never sent for me personally like this, not since I’ve met him. Usually he’s got other things on his mind then what his latest lapgirl is up to in the dead of night, and just waits for me to come around and boast about my latest achievement with thanks to his guidance. I give LaCroix the benefit of the doubt, even though I’ve had people jump down my throat for doing so. He’s got a job to do and he does it, and I respect that.

With an aggravated sigh, because I knew LaCroix’s probably pissed about what happened with Ash, I opened the door and let myself in to the limo, waiting for the onslaught.

The limo was empty, but the driver took one look at me through his rear-view mirror, and started to drive out of Hollywood. I tried to think of what I could say to LaCroix to...account for my naughtiness. I remembered Ash saying that LaCroix and Isaac Abrams didn’t really get along, which came as no surprise to me, but perhaps I could use that tidbit to my full advantage.

We were on the freeway headed downtown, and I busied myself looking out the window. I never liked Los Angeles when I was mortal, something about it just got under my skin. Now that I’m a vampire...I couldn’t stand to live anywhere else. I loved the city’s beauty, despite its crime rate that I found worrisome when I was human, but now that I’m immortal, I find it rather amusing. There’s so many things to do here, and so many people to meet. I’ve already met a hoard of people that I wouldn’t live without, if given the choice. Jack’s the first on that list, obviously.

I wondered if I could steal away to see Jack quickly before going up to get my head bitten off by LaCroix.

We came closer and closer to downtown, and by looking out the window I could see the Ventrue tower, like Babel black from the night, reaching up as far as heaven. I’ve always enjoyed knowing that at the top of that tower sits my boss, waiting to hear of my good work, waiting for the reassurance that his sparing me wasn’t a total mistake.

Ten minutes later the limo stopped in front of the Ventrue tower and the driver stared at me through the rear-view mirror, as if to say: “get your bony ass up there and don’t go off”.

So I didn’t. I left the limo and walked into the lobby. There was good ol’Chunk sitting at his post, with a half-eaten jelly donut halfway to his mouth, jam blotched down the front of his uniform. The sight of this man usually repulsed me, but I was a little more worried about facing LaCroix than I was worried about Chunk’s fairly harmless flirting.

Chunk straightened up as soon as he saw me come in. He ran a palm through his hair and slapped on his best smile, his teeth purple from the jam in the donut.

“Evening there missy. Was wondering when you were gonna show up. You better go up straight away, Mister LaCroix said he needed to see you as quickly as possible.”

I wanted to ask Chunk if he seemed angry, but I didn’t. “Thanks Chunk.”

Then, before I could head for the elevator, just like he always does, Chunk tries his luck. “Hey uh, listen I’m off duty in about three hours here...how bout I treat ya to breakfast? A stack of blueberry pancakes, huh? Little boysenberry syrup, you’re...cuddly security guard.”

He threw on his flirty face, and I had to struggle not to laugh out loud. Instead I just smiled at him. “Thanks for the offer Chunk, but I’m gonna have to pass on that for now.”

I headed towards the elevator without another word. He called it down in a few minutes. Every time he asked me out for food, I kept thinking about what mortal food was like. Seriously, if I was human, I almost would have gone, just for the blueberry pancakes. Sometimes a vampire misses that stuff.

The elevator ride was a helluva long one, and it gave me a chance to think of what to say to LaCroix. Then again I didn’t exactly know what he was going to ask me. Maybe he actually found the Ankaran Sarcophagus and was calling me back to put me on a different mission. That was highly unlikely, but you never know, a lot of things could happen in just one night, and LaCroix’s the prince, after all.

After almost five minutes of riding the elevator, the door opened to the hallway, and I stepped out and headed directly for the “throne room”. Funny, I couldn’t sense LaCroix. Maybe he’s not in...but then what was the deal in calling me up here?

There’s a big fire in the fireplace, makes all the gold-plated furnishing flicker. It looks amazing. I remember the first time I came into this room, little over a year ago. I was amazed at the size of it, and how posh it was. I hadn’t seen a place like this in Los Angeles before, hadn’t thought anything like it existed in this city. I was especially surprised by the many different murals of Caine and Abel LaCroix had on his walls. I’ve always wondered if LaCroix really believes in the idea that Caine was the first vampire. I guess he wouldn’t be much of a prince if he didn’t. Then again he doesn’t exactly leave himself open for questions. Guess I’ll never know.

I walked to the window, behind the desk, and looked down onto the city. Somewhere in the city there was a police siren going off. I wondered where I was gonna go next, who I was gonna meet next. One of the things I definitely loved about this whole vampire deal was the things I saw night to night and the people I met. Granted, a lot of those people don’t exactly jump for joy when they see me coming. (Which is why I’m not allowed back in the Asylum.)

With a little hum in my throat, wondering where the dear prince could be, I sauntered towards the fireplace and sat down on the sofa, crossing my legs and twitching a little. I hoped this was gonna be done real quick, I hadn’t fed in awhile and was pretty thirsty.

Then, as if on que, the doors slammed open, and with a look over my shoulder I saw Prince LaCroix come storming in, unaccompanied by his Sheriff, looking royally pissed off. His eyes settled on me fairly quick, and one look into them and I knew that this was not a meeting to discuss my progress in finding the Ankaran Sarcophagus.

I stood up, all means of respect, and waited patiently for him to speak. I could see his hands clasp into fists and then unclasp, as though he were trying to relax himself. The truth was, he was furious, and I could see it.

“Well...” He began in his quiet, I’m-not-pissed-but-really-I-am tone. “I’ve just had a very interesting conversation with Isaac Abrams.”

Oh. Shit.

“He wanted to know if my...latest protégé was skulking the night seducing Toreadors.” LaCroix said curtly, his finely trimmed eyebrows knitting together. “And don’t bother trying to lie about it, your expression tells me everything.”

“Oh goddamn it...” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“Iris I don’t know how many times I’ve had to remind you,” LaCroix said quite sharply. “You are Ventrue now, and the protégé of the Prince of the Camarilla. Vigilante behaviour is inexcusable.”

“It wasn’t vigilante, it was just a slip of will power-“

”Will power, is that all?” he was getting really pissed now, I could tell by the way his head jerks just a little, like when I told him the Ankaran Sarcophagus was stolen from the museum. “I suppose you’ve been fornicating with humans as well!”

I shrugged smoothly. “Of course I don’t, they’re humans. They’re unclean. Prince LaCroix, as you’ve said, I am Ventrue. Our kind is worth more than human.”

What a prime example of ethnocentrism. But it got LaCroix’s full attention. A smooth, blond eyebrow rose curiously on his pale face and I gave him a little shrewd smile. One thing he’s learned about me since my embrace: I’m a smooth talker. Always have been. It was how I got my sire in the sack, after all.

“Ash was just a little bit of fun.” I said in a poisonous sugary tone. “We both agreed it would piss Abrams off, was basically the only reason we did it. I don’t find Toreadors particularly satisfying. I imagine it’s only proper for...Ventrues to mate with other Ventrues.”

LaCroix stared at me for a long time, very quiet and focused. I stared right back at him, that same little smile on my lips, until I realized that he was about to burst into laughter. As un-princely as it would be, LaCroix couldn’t help but allow a few stray chuckles out. He then went around to his desk and sat down, looking at me with a very pleased grin.

“I must admit it always...tickles me when I find some way to get under Abrams skin. I imagine he’s told you about his distrust of me.”

I moved towards his desk, and sat down across from him in a seat that was usually occupied by some primogen, usually someone he likes to have long discussions with. “Like you said, he wears it on his sleeve. And I really shouldn’t say anything, but he tried to persuade me that you were untrustworthy.”

“Typical anarchist.” LaCroix spat. “And what did you say in reply?”

I smiled a little wider. “I told him that my prince knows how to choose his attendants.”

I crossed my legs ever so slowly, watching the effect of my smoothness etch at his expression. He gave me a beautifully smug look, and tipped back in his chair. I wonder how many proteges the Prince has had in these past years, and how many he’s been so completely comfortable with.

It’s amazing what kind of terms you’ll be in with the prince so long as you’re a diligent, hard-working suckhead who does a decent amount of sucking-up.

“Did you find Gary?”

I shook my head. “No sir, the limo was waiting for me outside of the Asphole.”

“Ah,” He mused, putting the fingertips on his hands together, as if to illustrate he was listening carefully. “So fornication and then down to business, was it?”

I laughed. Prince LaCroix rarely cracks jokes. “It’s so much more fun that way.”

“Hmm.” he mused in his throat with the slightest smile on his lips. It was then I noticed his eyes were tracing over my frame, down along my front and then to my legs.

I wondered if I turned him on. How long had it been since Prince Sebastian LaCroix had a real good fuck? Who knew? I suppose he could have had his pick of any girl, human and immortal alike. But if I knew Ventures, he probably only would have gone for the cream of the crop.

I guess that’s why I did it, a little thing to boost my ego, not like I needed it. It was all on impulse, really. Either I could conquest over Prince LaCroix or suffer the final death in his penthouse.

Either way, I did it. I uncrossed my long legs and stood up from the chair. LaCroix watched me intently with his icy eyes. I grinned, and bit down on my lower lip that sensuous way, the way that some men like. “I wanna show you something.”

LaCroix didn’t move at all. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t shift uncomfortably, he did nothing. He watched me, stared right into my eyes as I stared at him. Jesus Christ, Iris, are you actually gonna attempt to seduce the Prince of the Camarilla, the iciest bastard in the city?

He made no objections whatsoever when I rose my left leg and climbed into his lap, straddling him. In fact, he did nothing, no words of protest, no danger in his eyes, only pure curiosity, maybe even desire. If he had breath, maybe it would have picked up. I grinned, making myself comfortable, settling myself against his frame, and in a quick moment of life or death, I leaned down into him and kissed his lips.

They were cool, but they were soft and smooth and had the faintest taste of blood to them, as though he had fed recently. I hummed a little in my throat, immediately picking up the pace a bit. There’s something just so fresh about kissing a Ventrue. Sure Ash was hot shit, but he was still a Toreador. Sometimes it doesn’t matter how gorgeous they are, doesn’t mean they aren’t dirty.

I kissed his lips for what seemed to be hours before I felt even the slightest response from him. I could feel his chilly fingers on my bare legs, where my skirt didn’t cover them, and I squeaked in surprise from the cold. LaCroix began to kiss me back, slowly at first and then harder and harder, as though he hadn’t kissed anyone in centuries.

I ran my palms up along the smooth lines of his suit as his big hands began to caress my thighs, sliding them up to my sides and holding me there. I thought for a moment, as he tightened his grip, that he was going to push me right off him, but instead he deepened his kiss, and held me securely.

I gripped his shoulders in both my hands as his kiss became heated and more and more wanton. He was frantic for it, like a suffocating human without air, and the way his hands tightened on my flesh, I knew he had gone a long time without this, without this kind of touch.

He broke the kiss, as though he needed air, but we both knew he had no need of it. Instead he looked me over, my face and my body that was now hard as rock. I was wearing the outfit I was embraced in, probably my favourite, it comes in real handy when you’re seducing the morons of the night to get what you want, or in this case, the chilly heart of the prince.

His eyes wandered down to my waist and fixed there. As soon as I saw him pause I knew what it was he had in mind, and if my heart was beating, it would have sped up considerably. I couldn’t feel, from where I was sitting, if he had an erection or not. But my guess was that he was looking to get one. And hell I wasn’t complaining.

I bit down on my lower lip as LaCroix lifted up my skirt frantically to my waist, exposing my black lace panties (a little present I bought for myself with love from VV and her reward money). Without missing a beat, LaCroix pushed his thumb into my panty-clad clit, and I moaned and arched a little off his waist. I felt his other hand holding the small of my back, as if to ensure I wouldn’t go anywhere, as he began to rub the pad of his thumb along my clit. I sniggered in pleasure, gripping the folds of his suit tightly in my hands until he stopped me.

“Careful!” he said, gripping my wrists in his hands and pulling them away from his precious suit. “This is Italian silk, specifically tailored. It cost more than your haven.”

I laughed. “Sorry boss, I’ll try to watch myself.” and I leaned in and kissed his lips, hard, while he eagerly responded and released my hands so that I could wind them around his neck and bring him closer to me. I was feeling so hot, moreso than when I was with Ash, because I don’t think every Ventrue gal gets to sit in LaCroix’s lap like this.

LaCroix rubbed me for a good long time, while we stayed locked at the lips, as after awhile his fingertips traced the lace on the hem of my panties. I knew, I just knew he was about to breach the hem when of course the buzzer on his intercom made a shrilling interruption, forcing LaCroix to break the kiss and, with a very aggravated sigh, press the button on his intercom. “What?!”

“Erm, Mr. LaCroix?” It was Chunk’s uneasy banter on the other line. He sounded like he was about ready to piss his pants in nervousness.

“What is it, I’m quite busy!” LaCroix snarled, and I giggled.

“There’s a Mr. Isaac Abrams here to see you, sir. He says it’s urgent.”

LaCroix groaned in exasperation, and then nodded. “All right, send him up.”

“Yes sir.” and Chuck was gone.

I bit my tongue between my teeth a little as LaCroix sat back in the chair and let out a loud solid groan. Then he sat up, looking at me with those fierce gray eyes. “How many times am I going to have to deal with Abrams because of your naughtiness?”

I shrugged innocently. “A little while more, I suppose.”

I gripped his collar and pulled him in, capturing his lips in mine before he could say a word. His strength matched mine in a fit of passion that I for one desperately wanted to continue, but he pulled away after only a moment.

“Go, if Abrams sees you here, I’ll have Gehenna erupt here in my office.” And then, in a rather un-princely manner, he slapped my thigh and I climbed off his lap, giggling.

LaCroix stood and buttoned up his collar, and straightened out his suit. I eyed him, with a lazy hand on my hip, and a bit of a quirky smile. You kinda can’t help but wonder...what kind of body is he hiding under that gorgeous Italian silk suit of his? Another body of alabaster, perfectly toned?

Then of course LaCroix went right back into prince mode. He turned and looked at me, and said very sharply. “Iris, you have your orders. Find Gary and get him to talk.”

I nodded, and gave him a sexy little salute. “As you wish, my prince.”

I turned, and sexily strutted out of his office, knowing full well that his eyes followed me intensely until I was out the door, we Ventrues have a way of sensing these things. I couldn’t help but grin, even just to myself.

Something told me that the nightly visits to the Prince were going to get much more interesting from now on.

~*~

A/N: What I so love about this game is all the fantastic characters you can write about. So I think I might continue this as a series of one-shots with Iris the skanky Ventrue, so look for additions in the future! Hope you enjoyed this one, sorry LaCroix’s slightly OOC.