14

There are many servants here, not just well-placed ghouls like Alexander and Carlos. You circle among the servants. Most lack the dead-eyed stare of those broken by relentless mental domination. That makes sense: Prince Lettow is a Gangrel, and his mental powers might only extend to animals. But judging from the elegant pallor of many of these servants, you suspect that they're blood dolls: walking food, addicted to the Kiss. Like blood dolls everywhere, they linger because the touch of the undead is the only pleasure left to them.

So, Lettow's servants might be stronger-willed than the brainwashed thralls of a Ventrue Prince, but only by a little. Interesting.

There's some kind of dispute in the parking lot down below: three women yelling at a guy. Dove gestures, and two heavies head downstairs to sort it out.

When you approach, Prince Lettow closes his laptop and rises cordially. It's a truism among the Kindred that all elders are monsters, but at least this one can hide it. He's unexpectedly tall, despite his youthful features. You can picture him on a warhorse, plowing through ranks of helpless peasant infantry.

It is dangerous to interact with any elder, but you sense an opportunity here. You make small talk for a few minutes, describing a few recent deliveries once it's clear that Prince Lettow knows who you and your sire are.

"It's strange to exist again in a time of ignorance, Krarr," Lettow says. "When I was new-dead, the Commonwealth was still a land of darkness and superstition. Oh, I'm sorry, we have only just met, haven't we? And I'm talking to you like I'm picking up a thread of an old story. Let me start at the beginning. I died about the same time my country did, around when the United States was fighting King George III. Most Americans know nothing of those events, of course.

"I was held in little esteem when I came to Arizona, especially by the Ventrue who ruled here at the time," he continues. "But when the old Prince went mad attacking the other clans and got himself destroyed, there were few elders left who had not already fled. And so I became Prince in this new dark age, brought about by the Second Inquisition and our fear—justified, it turns out—of being tracked through these devices." He taps the laptop case.

"And in between?" you ask. Prince Lettow skipped over about two hundred years there.

"A story for another time, Krarr," the Prince says with a secret smile.

Two more Kindred arrive from the dance floor, skin slick from other people's sweat, cradling their dazed-looking blood dolls. Prince Lettow narrows his eyes at this vulgar display but says nothing.

"You are from the Clan of Kings, may I venture to ask?" Alexander says. "May I venture to ask further, how refined your palate might be?"

"Older women," you say.

"Ah, clear and simple. Very American," he says. "I can provide you with addresses of clubs. Not this one. The Viper is Prince Lettow's, but there are places you can go where no one will notice you. I provide this service, not for your sake, but so you do not embarrass our Prince. But this is only for tonight, understand. There have been accidents in Tucson, and the Prince will not trust you to wander freely night after night."

He rattles off a long list of nightclubs, bars, and halfway homes. His knowledge is encyclopedic, precise, and up to date, and his warnings are invaluable.

Whatever was happening in the parking lot below has sorted itself out; the heavies are back upstairs, laughing. You memorize their names and faces in case they're trouble later, then circle the Elysium for a few minutes, getting a feel for the place.

You can't believe you're back in Tucson. You wonder if anyone recognizes you. Beyond the rooftop, the city lights appear dim and washed out, as if seen through a black veil. Red brake lights from the highway look like a sluggish trail of blood.

"Just call her!" That's Dove, speaking in hushed but anxious tones to Prince Lettow.

You can't quite hear the rest of the conversation, but then the Prince's genial smile vanishes. Dove withers at whatever he says next.

Then the eagle swings its golden eyes back toward you.

"Ah, Krarr," Prince Lettow says. "I told you I would have work for you. I need to send some emails, and that is not as easy as it once was. Come here."

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