In accordance with Camarilla law, specifically, those amendments designed to reinforce mortal ignorance and thereby maintain, "The Masquerade", the following rights are accorded to the reigning Prince.

Those Kindred, mercenaries or independents who unknowingly conspire with the rebels known as the Anarchs and the fanatics known as the Sabbat, may be held in indenture and parole. The period of their sentence will, of course, be predicated on the Judgement of the presiding Prince. And per the established articles present in the original charter, the Prince may invoke the Right of Destruction at their discretion.

Article 1786, implemented in response to the Purge of Vienna.

*******

"Amazing." The word leapt into Jessie's mind, as they always did when she entered Camarilla central. This was no cheap McMansion made of drywall, but a massive stone building of granite and marble. This hilltop villa was sculpted in emulation of a classic roman manse and radiated the aristocracy and regality of those ancient places. But there was still one other phrase that always sprung to Jessie's mind. A phrase which always leaped forward once she saw the place's décor.

"It's amazing...ly pretentious." The walls and floors were plastered in a weird and vomitous collage of all colors and fine linen. Modern artworks were paired next to knockoffs of classic masterpieces, while the bright red carpet was nearly reflected on the gold-painted walls. And the chandeliers hosted multihued bulbs, which shifted and blazed in such random patterns, that Jessie feared she'd fall into epileptic shock.

Those were harsh times, such a profound loss of control...but no longer. That feeling of helplessness had been stripped away by the Embrace. Now Jessie was Kindred, a vampire of the clan Hecata. A fact which initially brought elation, but then devolved into fear.

"The Prince will see you now." The butler, whose name Jessie had never asked and had never been offered, called out in a projected though formal tone from a spiraled staircase. "She apologizes for the wait."

He indicated towards the hallway at his right, and Jessie didn't need to be told twice. Her knee-length boots clomped down on the carpeted steps without any care for decorum. And as the Butler opened his mouth to speak, Jessie raised her gloved hand and said: "Thanks, I know the way from here."

"Of course, Madame." He gave a nod of the head, once more eliciting a pitying glace from young Jessie. She could see the glaze of his eyes. The telltale signs of his being a blood-bound slave, beholden to the will of his mistress. Even Ghouls were given more dignity than this man, a fact which pissed her off even after all these years.

They parted at the same time, The Butler going to wherever, and Jessie in the direction of the Prince's balcony side office. She did her best not to stare at the increasingly weird artworks on the wall until she finally came to the balcony proper.

The moon shone through colors of all kinds while the outlined images of blades, stars, and birds of prey were projected on the balcony floor and those within.

"Welcome, my dear."

There she was. Amaya Datta, the Prince of Phoenix, and elder of the Clan Toreador. Jessie had heard she was over five hundred years old and embraced from a noble lineage of Indian royalty. She certainly looked the part of a princess, even in the modern sense. Light brown skin, bright green eyes, and her sharp features all held in wondrous symmetry by a sensuous smirk.

"You look famished. I've already laid out refreshment for you." She gestured with finely manicured hands towards a young man by her side. He sat in a small wooden chair, only a few feet from Amaya's own ludicrously cushioned and detailed porch...recliner?

Jessie had no what the hell it was. "Is it a Caesar couch? Like in the movies? But no, it's wooden so...Goddamn exotic 1% bullshit." The boy in the pleb chair, for he was indeed sporting a boyish and innocent expression, looked eager. In fact, he might have actually been excited.

"Mam, or Madame? I don't know-"

"Amaya will do. We're familiar enough for that, at the very least." The prince stretched out on her oversized beach chair, doing all she could to "discreetly" show off her Olympian figure. The entirety of which was clad in designer clothes from exclusive name brands costing more than a year's rent.

"Do partake." She motioned for the boy to rise, and he obeyed. And with the same hand, she presented the innocent as she might a fine sculpture. "I've sampled him myself, he's one of my favorites in fact."

"He likes this? Being fed on?" Jessie looked into this boy's desperate eyes. The eyes of an addict with an unconquerable need to please. To do anything for that one sensation. "I don't know-"

"Please, mistress? I don't mind. I'm...useful this way." He was nearly drooling. As if he were about to feed. "I feel wanted."

Jessie dared to glance at the thing across from her, that predator in the skin of a beautiful woman. Its eyes glowed with equal parts anticipation and annoyance. And right then, Jessie knew that if she refused drinking from this boy, it would be considered an insult.

"Alright." The younger vampire nodded, though there was a grudging and almost shameful tone to her acceptance. "Tilt your head a little, please."

The boy did just that and trembled at the thought of promised ecstasy. "I'm ready."

Amaya licked her lips, as a slight chuckle escaped from them. "He's such a good boy. The vampire's kiss is one of the few pleasures he knows." She did nothing to conceal her fangs, which seemed to grow with each passing moment. "But you of the Clan Hecata are different. Aren't you?"

Jessie gulped down and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry." Then she took the young man tightly by the shoulders and dived right into his neck with her fangs. "Don't struggle."

The boy's screams reached a higher pitch than almost any other Jessie had heard since her Embrace. Everyone screamed when she fed, the same way anyone fed on by the Clan Hecata did. "Just a few more seconds...then I'll be done. Please kid, just hold on."

1, 2, 3...done. The hunger was satisfied, so Jessie let the boy go. He fell to the ground, his body convulsing and tears pouring from his reddened eyes. Bruises ran down and along his arms, for that was how hard he had struggled against Jessie's grip.

And all the while, it sat there. "So Tragic." Amaya looked down at her traumatized blood slave with lost and obsessive eyes, trapped within an abominable ecstasy. "To see such hopes dashed, and to bear witness to such genuine and magnificently poignant despair...it's so wonderful, so human."

"Alright now, get up." The power of the blood accentuated Amaya's voice. Even Jessie was momentarily taken in by her words, their dark and sensual tone. But not for long, never again.

"You've done so well." She motioned with a single manicured finger and the boy practically jumped to his feet. Still trembling but now ecstatic and eager to please. That fact more than anything else seemed to please Amaya still further. "I knew I chose correctly, though so many others claimed you'd be a waste."

"But I knew better." He almost crawled to her when she spoke, and that same pitiable and beaten look broke into his eyes. "You're so beautiful, so helpless." She brushed his cheek with that same outstretched finger, before pointing towards the open door into the manse proper.

"Go back to your cell now."

He did just that. Running off like a dog who's just been given the highest praise and an even greater treat.

"Exquisite, wasn't he?" He wasn't even gone before Amaya spoke again.

And Jessie's response was just as quick. "I'd like it, appreciate it even, if you warned me ahead of time." Jessie brushed aside some of the blood still trailing from her lips. "I don't like doing that to people."

"Would you rather feed off a friend? You needed sustenance after the last night's labors. I merely provided." She leaned over, a condescending and victorious smirk crinkling her features. "Be honest, my dear. You were famished."

"What did you bring me here for? Mam..."

Amaya rolled her eyes, even sinking into that ridiculous chair like a sulking teenager. "I was going to congratulate you for a job well done. You're very near in repaying your debt to me, as is your Sire."

"Speaking of Ian, where is he?"

The Prince beckoned one of the servants, most likely a blood-addicted ghoul, to bring her a USB drive. "He's at the next task. One which you will aid him with."

"What is it? More Anarchs? More idiots trying to clean the city?"

A frown now, and a displeased hiss creased Amaya's fair features like a jagged scar. "Worse, an Archon."

"A what?" Jessie had never heard the term before, not among vampires at least.

"A senior agent of our brotherhood, one of the Camarilla's enforcers." A low growl rose from her throat, even as her teeth ground against each other. "And of course, he's a Ventrue."

"The aristos?"

"Indeed. And he's been assigned to help me. As in, to help me rule." Fury. All the beauty and sensual presence bubbled away, replaced by anger and spite. "Can you believe it? Our leaders have so little confidence in me that they send one of their wrist hawks to coach me...how degrading."

"Yeah, I can see it's bothering you."

"Indeed, it hurts me so." Amaya left the chair with that, walking over to the shorter Jessie with measured and commanding steps as the heels of her snob-wear boots clamped against the marble floors. "But you'll help me with this. Won't you?"

"I...I don't know." This was a heavy task. Going up against a Senior Camarilla official? It was insane, why would a Camarilla prince want to kill one of her own?

"Do not be frightened my pet. I don't want you to move against our guest. I only wish for you to observe him."

"Alright." That was enough to reassure Jessie. Not by much, but enough that she was willing to listen. "What are we looking at him for?"

"This particular Ventrue has a reputation. The kind which procures him many posts in trouble spots for the Camarilla. He enforces order and often beats the more uncooperative elements into line."

"Ok. So, you're worried he might go vigilante?"

That earned caress on the cheek. "Precisely, my brilliant girl." Long and soft fingers traced across Jessie's chin, wreathed in that same abrasive scent that wafted off the rest of Amaya's body.

"You understand my concerns so well." Her hand turned, and lifted Jessie's chin so Amaya's eyes met the younger woman. "I often wonder what would've happened, had you been lucky enough to meet me before Ian."

"It would've been different."

"Yes, and what sweet varieties we might have made." She dropped the hand at that, before turning and looking towards the plate glass windows lining her balcony. "The information you need is in this flash drive, Ian will tell you the rest."

She held out the device, not even looking towards its intended recipient.

"Thank you." Jessie took it and placed it into her pocket. "Is there anything else?" She wanted to leave now, more than anything."

"No, you can leave now. I do love our rare chats, but that rarity is the whole charm. Don't you think?"

"I guess." Something was still bugging Jessie though, and she'd put it off until now. "What's that boy's name? The one I just fed on?"

"Oh him? He doesn't have one today?"

"Today?"

"Indeed." Amaya still kept her gaze locked on the multi-hued city that was held behind the glass. "I change his name often. It helps keep him fresh, and even a bit exotic. I hope you're not going to try and steal him from me now, though you're always welcome to share."

"No, thank you. I'd better get to work."

"Of course. And visit again soon, won't you?"

Jessie hesitated for a moment, before answering. "You bet." And she did not dare leave until the Prince's attention was turned completely away. Even then, the young vampire snuck off as quietly as she could. Only when she was out the front door did she run. She ran right to her bike, mounted up, and then drove away from that deranged villa as quickly as she dared.