Master of the City of St. Louis

Jean-Claude has allowed matters to lie for a handful of weeks now. He has done nothing more than aid young Nathaniel in the areas which he is best suited: shielding. However, some things still bleed through Nathaniel's shields, and he is no fool, recognizing the looks of fear or longing that cross Asher's face when the pentumvirate meets.

Or when Damian is in house.

It concerns Jean-Claude greatly, and not for any unselfish reason. He's fought and bided his time in order to reach even a fraction of what he now has, and he is not willing to see it lost.

He makes his way to Asher's room in Milliways, and though there are scents of Nathaniel -- both of the leopard himself and a hint of blood -- he can hear no heartbeat on the other side of the door. Only Asher is in the room, and Jean-Claude is polite enough that he knocks, waiting for Asher to call him inside.

The room is easily big enough to hold all six of them comfortably. But as the only sitting places are the sofa and the bed, Jean-Claude has brought in some additional chairs from various places in the Circus. Granted, the receiving room adjacent to the banquet hall might have been easier, but Jean-Claude much prefers the greater privacy afforded by his chambers. What needs to be discussed is not something that anyone else outside needs to accidentally overhear.

He looks around the room at all of them assembled. "Let me explain what I see first, and then we can discuss the implications. I can detect three marks between myself and Anita and between myself and Richard. I also see three marks between Anita and Nathaniel, two marks between Asher and Nathaniel, and four between Anita and Damian." The last is admitted with a certain reluctance. He had been hoping that had not been the case.


[tagging order: Anita, Richard, Asher, Nathaniel, Damian, Jean-Claude]

By the time Jean-Claude comes in from the back office of the club, the other bouncers have managed to clear the humans from Primo's immediate area, but are now at the mercy of the master vampire themselves. He enters the main room just in time to see Primo fling Buzz and Clay across the room using simply the force of his power.

Jean-Claude is in his room. Anita had gone to a murder scene and the weres had vacated his room when he'd arrived. He has bathed, primped, and dressed, the creak of his leather pants the only sound as he goes to his favorite chair and sits. The shirt, sapphire silk, is open half down his chest, exposing the cross-shaped scar.

His eyes are on the door, his expression carefully chosen to express nothing but disinterest. A brush of his mind and he knows Asher is awake and dressed as well, watching as Nathaniel still sleeps. Jean-Claude sends a wordless command for Asher to come to him.

They had a certain leopard, and deception, to discuss.

The fury is barely contained inside him when the door opens and Asher steps in, but only one who knows Jean-Claude well would be able to see that anger.

Luckily, Asher knows Jean-Claude very well.

The small antechamber outside the banquet hall isn't exactly full, but there are enough vampires and weres in the space to make it feel crowded as the energies mingle and flare in an intimate, invisible dance. Jean-Claude moves among the various members of both Musette's entourage and their own, ensuring that nothing untoward was occurring on either side.

When he senses Anita standing in the adjacent room, he makes his way to the long, black drapes blocking the space from the banquet room and pushes through.

The banquet is in one of the inner rooms of The Circus. No man or vampire created this space. It is a natural cave, deep below St. Louis. During Prohibition, it had been converted into a speakeasy. They had installed gas lights that now burn with a soft and clean glow.

The room is dominated by the long and beautifully apportioned banquet table. White and gold are the primary colors, set off against the dark, dark wood of the carved chairs. Between each chair had been placed a complete place setting on the floor, atop a white linen napkin.

Anita is standing near the table, seemingly transfixed by the gleam of the gold flatware and bone china. As Jean-Claude approaches her, he feels more than hears Asher following behind, clearly uncomfortable at being in the same room as Musette without Jean-Claude.

"Ma petite," he begins, "our guests are asking for you."

He can feel her.

That need, a need he's known his entire life as a vampire. The driving need of the incubus, the need that eclipses all else when it is denied.

He can feel Richard, running as she runs, his own need -- one of live and hunger and the thrill of the hunt -- mingling with her need, mingling with his. But he is old, and he can easily grasp his need and shut it in a box for the time being.

Jean-Claude waits in the bathtub, on his knees, facing the door, and if he were alive, he would have been panting and hard, waiting for her. Instead, he is dead, unfed, and he waits like a column of marble, but far more welcoming than such unfeeling stone.

Jean-Claude's eyes never leave Musette. That would have been foolish. It does not mean, however, that he is not aware of everyone else in the room. Asher's presence is bright to his senses, and Jason flopped so casually over one the chairs was purely Jason.

Anita, tense and still between his body and Damian's, is like an explosive primed to go off, and Jean-Claude knows he has to prevent just that at all costs. Anita attacking Musette or her company would be a political nightmare Jean-Claude did not wish to navigate. But just as he knows he must prevent it, he knows he has little chance should his petite fly off the handle, so to speak.

"Ah, covered in graveyard dirt and animal blood. So nice to see she brought out her best for this evening, Jean-Claude, Musette snipes, her French rolling off the tongue.

Jean-Claude carefully hid his reaction to the insult. "Anita does not speak French, my dear."

Musette shrugs elegantly. "No one is perfect, except perhaps Our Mistress." She gives Jean-Claude a dark smile, but before he can retort, she switches to English and addresses Damian. "Damian, it has been so many years since you graced our court with your presence."