Negotiations

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A muscle jumped with tension in his jaw. Then the big vampire was storing his weapons to step out of the passageway and around the stone column that hid the entrance.

"What is it that you want, Romanescu?" he asked as everybody in the chamber turned towards him with a gasp at his sudden appearance, the White Flames snapping their weapons up to aim at him.

Everyone except the slaver, who quickly held up a hand to keep the human soldiers from emptying their magazines full of sundogs into the powerful Ventru high lord.

"To challenge you, of course, my dear Lash," Romanescu replied, slowly turning towards him with the detonator held up in plain view. "You and me, in a knife duel to the death. Just like they did in olden times!"

He took a sweeping look around the room.

"Let those present bear witness!" he shouted in a more formal voice. "I, Marius Romanescu, of the House Romanescu, do declare saltare cum cultris ad mortem. A dance with knives to the death!" He paused long enough to point the detonator at Lash.

"Against Ingamon Lash, of House Lash. For honor and justice!"

"You must be mad, slaver," the Nkosi councilor stammered. "The Ventru high lord is well known as an excellent warrior and combatant. He'll cut you to ribbons and let your blood pool cold on the uncaring floor!"

Still wearing his smirk, Romanescu looked from the Nkosi to Lash.

"He's impressive, I'll grant you that," he quickly conceded before looking back at the Nkosi. "But my big friend here is a battering ram, not a razor blade."

Drawing his moly blade and activating it with a hum, Lash flipped up the visor on his helmet.

"You'll find that I cut well enough, traitor," he grated as he carefully eased into a knife fighting stance.

"Ah, the famous Silver Legion's moly blade!" Romanescu exclaimed with a delighted laugh. "I've always wanted to try one of those."

Then the traitorous former Qos Viran was deadly serious.

"Do you accept my invitation to dance, Lord Lash?" he coldly asked.

"Obviously," Lash hissed in reply. "As this is a formal duel, state your terms. If I win ..."

"I give you the detonator, Demaskieros, and all parties responsible for the illegal pogrom against Clan Ventru, the council coup, and the extermination order against the liliths," Romanescu promptly replied..

"And if you win?" Lash asked, not moving from his ready position.

"The dissolution of Ventru, the restoration of Toreador, Demaskieros free from prosecution of any kind and granted the Toreador chair on the council, and the dissolution of the European Conclave of Queens of the Night."

Each demand came in a quick, staccato delivery, the list obviously prepared well beforehand, with each tightening the expression on Lash's face until he wore a mask of rage.

"No," he tightly growled.

A brow lifted on Romanescu's face. Then, without saying a word, he turned and drew his sidearm to fire a bullet through the head of the nearest kneeling vampiress in her isolation sheath. A spurt of blood out the other side and she toppled bonelessly over without a sound.

"That change your mind, Lash?" the slaver asked as he moved his weapon to aim at the second vampiress's head.

Instead of answering, Lash flipped the moly knife blade first into the stone floor, where it went hilt deep into the polished granite. Then, moving faster than any of the others in the chamber thought possible, he drew his Shiva pistol from the small of his back and turned in a tight semicircle, the high powered weapon humming as it fired almost continuously. Even before he had reached the midway point of that tight crescent, cloaked Hand agents were appearing out of thin air only to drop to the ground dead.

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