The following night...

"Have you decided what you're going to do," Daedalus asked Marie as she gingerly sat in one of his hard wooden chairs in the gatehouse.

"What do you want?"

"Well, when it comes down to being staked or being a servant, which would you prefer?"

Carefully considering the amount of physical pain versus the emotional agony she answered, "Neither."

"So what have you chosen? Are you going to offer me something or am I going to have to inform your Sire about your lack of courtesy?"

Typical Nosferatu blackmail. "But I don't know what you want. How do I know what to offer if I don't know what you would accept?"

"Make me an offer and we'll go from there," he said while trimming a cigar to be lit.

"Uh. Run errands for you for a month?"

"No. The only errands I ever run would be to take messages and such to my Clanmates. And I'll not have you angering them as well. Your debt stays with me."

"Gesso all your canvases for you for a month?"

After a brief pause, Daedalus accepted. "Increase that time to a year and consider the matter forgotten."

Marie's jaw dropped. A year?! "How many canvases are we talking about here?"

"Depends. Sometimes I go through three a month. Other times I'll go through a dozen."

Marie could feel all her free time floating away from her where she sat. But it was a small price to pay for not feeling her Sire's wrath, let alone not ever having him find out about her little faux pas. "Deal."

Two weeks later...

The city was tense with uncertainty after Grace's murder. All the Clans had their strongest members patrolling day and night, searching for the rogue Garou who had broken the peace pact. Thankfully the local Garou had done as they'd promised and kept out of sight.

At a Conclave within the Wolf House, Julian listened as Cash gave a report of the past three day's activity. Violence between the Clans had decreased to virtually none. The only clash had been a few hours ago in town when a neophyte Gangrel tried to run over a Brujah with his bike. Luckily, Cameron had been present and was able to calm his Clanmate down before a fight erupted. In the end, Cameron had to drag his Clanmate by the scruff of his neck over to a wall and bash his face in a few times to make him see reason.

The Gangrel youngster fared a bit worse. He had been beaten senseless by his Primogen. The only violence so far had actually been committed by the Primogen themselves in order to keep the peace, which was acceptable.

The mutual cooperation between Gangrel and Brujah was nice, the Prince mused. But how long could it last? The Garou pack leader still said the murderer was on the loose and dangerous. Had the Garou moved on? Was he even still in the area?

Lillie was impossible to deal with. She wanted this Garou's blood to avenge her lost Childe. Julian could see her mentally sharpening her claws in preparation for war. Toreador Clan may not have the number of experienced warriors within their ranks the others did but when provoked to protect someone or something, they were deadly. Passion for anything made them dangerous.

Just as Julian opened his mouth to ask for other concerns, the door to the conference room burst open and his daughter waltzed in with a massive smile plastered on her face.

"Sorry to interrupt everyone, but I have a present for my Sire. Look," she squealed in delight. She shook a bloody blob at them all. "Isn't it great?!" She cooed in pleasure.

Julian stood and frowned. Daedalus cocked his head to the side, nose flared, trying to smell who's blood it was she had all over her. Lillie looked horrified. Sonny's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. Cash looked sickened, as if he was about to throw up.

Cameron smiled and laughed. "Awww! Your baby girl brought you a prizey, Julian. You might want to ask where the rest of it is, though," he said noting the blood dripping on the carpet. "I mean, if she brought you dinner there's not really a whole lot left to munch on."

"It's not dinner, you foul man," Marie corrected. "It is my trophy!" She put the bloody thing on the table but it rolled a few inches to the right, leaving a smeared bloody trail on the polished wood. After a few anxious seconds she righted it and arranged it so it faced her Sire. She brushed a few brown strands of its hair to the side and then looked up into her Sire's confused face.

"Marie, where did you get this head?"

"I found it," she said a smile.

"Where?"

"In the backyard."

The Conclave was silent, trying to absorb the spectacle they held before them. Julian blinked several times and shook his head and tried to get a grip on the situation. "You FOUND a Garou head in my backyard?"

"Yes. Isn't he cute? I want to have him bronzed so we can put him over the fireplace mantle in your library. What do you think?" She licked her lips and then reconsidered. "Then again, you have a lot of silver and black in that room. Bronze might look out of place but-"

Julian held up a forefinger and silently asked her to hush. "Ok. Let me get this straight. You found a bloody Garou head in the backyard. And this Garou appears to be a fresh kill. Were there any others nearby? And how did you find it?"

"Well, I didn't ... find it, really.. I sorta took it from him."

"Who? Who did you take it from? Was there a fight? How many?" Julian braced himself for the answer that would lead him to declaring a Blood Hunt. The Primogen sat up.

But Marie's brows twitched, furrowed together and she frowned, silent.

"Marie. Answer me," Julian demanded. "We need to know where to go to find the rest of them."

The young Ventrue pursed her lips and stared at the decapitated head in front of her.

"Answer me!"

She sighed. "I can't," she growled. "I mean, I can't... I can't think of any smaller words to use!" she yelled.

"Excuse me?" The Prince's eyes began to take on the glow of anger.

"I found him! And I took it from him! What don't you understand about this? He jumped out of the trees at me and confused my neck for a chew toy. I am NOT a chew toy," she huffed. "The only one who can chew on me is you," she announced, pointing her finger at her Sire. "And he isn't nearly as cute as you. So he's not allowed to do that."

Daedalus smirked and Julian sat with a thump down in his chair. "You took this Garou's head from him," he clarified.

Marie threw her hands up in the air and she was about to go into another tirade of the injustice done to her neck when Julian put his hand up again, motioning for silence from her.

"This is a yes or no question, Marie. That is all I want from you. Did you kill this Garou yourself?"

"Yes," she answered promptly.

"You killed him even though we needed him alive?"

"No."

Julian raised an eyebrow at her.

"Can I answer this question using more than a yes or no," she asked.

The Ventrue Prince gestured to the bloody head, "As long as you don't start yelling at me and tempt me to add your head along with his to my fireplace mantle."

"Fair enough," she conceded. "I only killed him to save my own neck. He wouldn't talk to me. It was self defense."

At least this solved the problem of the missing crazy Garou. The pack leader would be upset, no doubt. But if his Childe had killed in self defense and had no opportunity to subdue him let alone reason with him, then surely the pack leader wouldn't raise too much of a fuss. Peace was too far important to them both.

Calm and rational once again, Julian folded his fingers together on the table before him. "You have done your city a service this evening. But you cannot keep that head, bronzed or not."

"But why not?" she whined.

"It would break the Masquerade should it ever be discovered," Daedalus stated. "But I'm sure that if the Prince would be kind enough to grant his Childe a small token from her trophy everything would be alright." The Nosferatu stood and took the head in his hands, turning it over while gripping the jaws in an open position. He pried out both of the most prominent fangs on the upper set of teeth, handing them to her.

She looked at the long pointed teeth in her hand and smiled. Marie squeaked in happiness and grabbed him. Wrapping both arms around Daedalus' neck, she kissed his pale cheek with a loud smack of her lips. "Thank you. You're the best."

The soundly kissed Nosferatu was nearly bowled over when she launched herself at him but righted himself quickly.

Julian watched the exchange befuddled. Give the girl a handful of credit cards to go shopping with and she growls at him. Give her a Garou to kill and she practically swoons in happiness? Potential guard? Quite possibly.

Near dawn of the same evening...

"My Childe has a severely warped sense of humor," Julian complained as he sat enjoying a nicely aged burgundy wine with his closest friend.

"She has the exuberance of youth with the moral and physical strength of her Sire. That is naturally going to be a dangerous combination," Daedalus grinned.

"But that's the thing. I don't think she has my strength. So how did she kill that Garou?"

"What are you saying, Julian?"

"She told me that she literally pulled his head off. Like a cork out of a bottle. How is that possible?"

The Nosferatu's thoughts ran rampant. "Unless...Well, I mean.. I've seen...certain Kindred..."

Julian's eyes bore into his. "What?"

Daedalus swallowed more wine and faced his Prince with apologetic eyes. "Unless she was somehow damaged by what happened with Goth," he enunciated slowly.

"But I made her after-"

"Correct."

"But there's no way that-"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not possible!" Julian yelled.

"Vampires and werewolves aren't possible either, Julian. And yet here we all are. What's impossible about it? I gave you some of my vitae to strengthen and fortify you for the imminent duel with Goth. You Embraced her only a few days afterward. If Marie somehow caught onto some of the latent traces of my blood in you when you Embraced her, then it makes perfect sense. She is in fact both of ours. She is our Childe."

Julian's ears rang with the outrageous postulations of his Enforcer. And the man didn't stop either.

"If that were true, then it would certainly explain her eh... ineptitude with certain social situations. And also her utter lack of regard for her own personal safety in favor of taking a trophy from her kill."

"Are you speaking from personal experience, old man?"

Daedalus blinked and tried to hedge around his Prince's question, but the look in his eye was playful and not maliciously nosy. He decided to cooperate a bit. "I may have..." he stammered. "Perhaps a few times in my Childehood," he admitted, "not exactly run from confrontations. And taking a trophy was my right. They lost. I won. And I deserved to be compensated for my blood loss." He looked sheepishly at his young friend. "I was quite irrational."

"Somehow I can't imagine you as irrational," Julian replied.

Daedalus gave a small shrug and continued with his theory. "Nevertheless, it is true that most Fledglings of my breed have certain emotional characteristics. Looking back now, I think that Marie may have been trying to tell us that she felt a little uneasy with just one Clan being her home. She told me once that she thought she was the product of 'Kindred blood craziness or cross Clan blood bonding." Julian gave a small laugh and then the Nosferatu stated, "But you and I know better, don't we?"

"Yes, we do," Julian conceded. "You don't have to be blood bound to another Kindred for their blood to change yours." For weeks after the duel with Goth, Julian had heard Daedalus' thoughts from time to time. They were never very precise, but they did hold a great deal of emotion.

"I've contemplated changing her training a bit to coincide with that of my own," Julian said. Weapons and combat training would fill Marie's days.

Daedalus' eyebrow quirked upward and he asked lowly, "After ripping a full grown Garou's head off his shoulders, do you honestly think she needs it?"

Julian laughed and sighed. No, they agreed. Marie would be allowed to gradually find her own place among them. Wherever that might be.

The End