Scarred

Chapter 36: Coming to a Head

"My desires regarding your lives are hardly unchangeable," Michael replied, a hint of sardonic humor in his silvery voice. "True, dead men are of limited use, but live men are less than useless when their breath is coupled with idiocy," Michael replied, allowing just a touch of his presence to project out again, lending more weight to his words before continuing.

"You rudely entered my grounds and interfered in a Regional Alpha meeting, a great offense in of itself with heavy repercussions. Even so, those transgressions are as gnats on the wind to me when I consider your unnecessary interruption of the evening my Ruach went through great lengths to create. The price to appease me shall be high indeed."

"You already own the life of our Regional Psychic, what further payment do you require?" Weston asked, his voice calm, though his eyes were wary.

"Brianna's life is payment for her actions and hers alone. As you are aware, Inquisitor, the ledger is still due for the remainder of your group," Michael replied sharply, and Lucienne felt a thread of satisfaction and excitement underlying his anger, which piqued her curiosity.

"It's unheard of to have an Inquisitor in such a position, My Heart," Michael told her noting her interest. "I intend to take full advantage of the opportunity presented before us. However, know this. If it were possible, I would not hesitate to forgo the Inquisitor's debt to have had this night with you uninterrupted."

Lucienne had to control the tears threatened to fall at his words. "You're going to have to stop telling me such beautiful things if you don't want me crying in front of everybody," she gently teased him, struggling to keep her composure.

He turned his gaze fully towards her, finding it completely irrelevant that this would tell everyone they were in mental contact. Given his reputation for mental speaking, most of them had probably already assumed that anyway, and he wouldn't allow such a statement from her to receive less than his full attention.

He took her hand in his, and leaned across their chairs to brush his lips over her fingers. "Provided they are tears of joy, I make no apologies. To the contrary, I shall take pleasure in the result," he replied, his lips lifting ever so slightly in the barest of smiles.

She returned his smile and squeezed his fingers in return, not really caring that the Hunters noticed. If anything, it would probably only help their position since one of the accusations was that Michael had kidnapped her. She was about to reply when she heard the faint echo of someone speaking to him through their link.

"My Heart, I'm afraid we are to have further company," Michael told her after a moment, exasperation threading through in his mental voice. "His presence is welcome, though I'm afraid his news may be less so for him to return so openly."

"Well knowing is better than not knowing, even if it's bad news," she replied, almost wanting to laugh at the ridiculous number of people showing up.

"Indeed, that is my feeling as well, though it is beginning to feel as if invitations were sent out for a gathering we had not been informed we were hosting," Michael replied wryly, before shifting his attention to the door as a dusty looking man stepped through escorted by a pair of guards.

"Victor, I see time hasn't cured your penchant for attempting to slip through my security. Perhaps we should simply arrange a series of contests so that you and Silas may cease endeavoring to outdo each other."

"Yes well, whatever you like," Victor half mumbled, his hands moving to straighten his rumpled clothes, and not really accomplishing much.

Lucienne studied Michael's youngest Made, finding that his memories of the man didn't really prepare her for the reality. He was possibly the most disheveled person she'd ever seen, and somehow it just seemed natural for him.

His gray T-shirt and jeans were so wrinkled it almost looked like he was wearing walrus skin. At the same time, his hair was simultaneously plastered to his head, and flying around in random directions, while his gait appeared jerky and somewhat clumsy. Overall, he kind of reminded her of an unfledged owl, all fluff and mismatched feathers, still growing into their body.

"What I would like is an explanation," Michael said, deliberately switching to mental speech to keep things more private, though still including her on the conversation.

"Oh, of course. I came because I found the information you wanted," Victor replied.

"Victor, time is growing short, do not drag this out," Michael said with irritation, and Victor looked around, seemingly just noticing the gathered Hunters looking on with interest.

"Oh right, actually it's probably good they're here. Here you go, Michael," the odd man replied while suddenly mentally dumping the information without warning.

Michael had expected Victor to do this, and was ready, simultaneously shielding Lucienne from the dump while assimilating the information quickly and with the ease of long practice and a disciplined mind. Lucienne felt Michael's emotions spike through their link, and it didn't surprise her when he stood a moment later, eyes solid gold and his hand extended to escort her from the room.

As soon as she'd taken his arm he turned to the Hunters. "Commander Weston, I do believe it would be in both our interests to speak in private. If you would be so kind as to join us?" he stated, his question more of an order as he and Lucienne moved to a small meeting room, neighboring the larger conference room.

"Victor, your presence is required as well," Michael stated when his Made simply stood there watching the Hunters with interest. There was a touch of fond exasperation in his tone, and Lucienne didn't need to check his memories to know that Michael truly cared for his unusual Made.

"Oh, of course. Whatever you need, Michael," Victor replied, tearing his focus away from studying the Hunters, though his perusal quickly found a new subject in Weston. The way the odd vampire was studying him, Lucienne rather suspected he'd already figured out Weston's rank, and was probably putting together a list of questions and planning how to get the answers.

If it weren't clear to her just how upset Michael was over the information Victor had just given him, she'd probably have laughed. Instead she quietly accompanied Michael into the room and almost lost it when they found Eogan waiting patiently for them to arrive with another man, clearly also Unsleir, tied up and unconscious in the seat next to him.

"It would appear this shall be a most illuminating discussion," Michael said mildly.