Explanations - Panther's Lair

Grace paced the living room, her path taking her across the hard wood floor, from wall to fireplace, then back again.  She'd banished Serene to the back yard, where she knew she could not harm the cat in a fit of pique.

Where are they?  They wait much longer, and I may rip him to pieces on sheer principal.

She checked the window for the third time in three minutes.

He knew that this time would need to come.

So he did not need to be told twice, when this particular issue came up.

He came, quietly, knocking on the door with a gentle fist.

"Come in!"

The words came through the door, the irritation almost dripping from the words.

He stepped through the door and looked around.

"She here yet?"

She was standing in the middle of the living room, fists clenched at her sides.

"Nay, she's yet t' arrive. Tha' mean ye'll be watin' t' start th' story tellin'?"

He looked at her levelly.

"D'ye wish me t' start, or would ye rather wait for her t' get here?"

She growled softly as she spoke.

"Ye best start talkin', boyo. I'm nay sure how long I can hold me temper."

He leaned against the wall and sighed.

"All right. I got a phone call a few weeks back. Th' harpy Toreador callin' me t' tell me tha' he found one o' my 'dead relatives' as he put it. He asked me t' come an' see for myself. I had some things t' do, so I sent th' Sheriff t' see wha' this was all about."

He sighed again.

"I got th' call from Anton nay long after. He told me I needed t' see something, an' would I come. I went. He told me wha' he ken of th' situation. She'd washed up on shore, as a mortal. Clearly, this seems odd t' me, but Anton is th' Sheriff an' a Ventrue t' boot. He said he'd checked her thoroughly, an' had others check her. He does nay ha' an explanation for how it happened, but he was confident t' wi' out a doubt tha' it was her."

He shrugged.

"I saw her. Even if it were some sort o' deception by th' Ventrue, she did ken things tha' he would nay have ken about. So, it came down t' th' decision of whether t' ha' her embraced again or nay. I gave her th' choice, since it is her fate, after all. She had th' option t' do th' things she did nay have th' chance t' do before. Have children, an' th' like. She opted t' rejoin us. We decided tha' it was safer t' ha' her embraced again, but nay by th' Tremere. She was quite worried about wha' they may do t' her, wha' wi' the whole mortal issue an' all. So, we changed her face, had her Embraced a Gangrel. Aye?"

Blood began to drip from her hands as she seemed to be growing claws out of reflex.

"An' ye did nay think t' tell me this before now because..."

"I was nay sure when exactly th' deed would be done. It was decided best I did nay ken, s' tha' when she arrived, if th' Tremere got wind o' it, I would nay be in any danger. She insisted on tha'."

"And it had to wait until she showed up in town, causin' me t' almost frenzy in Elysium an' blow th' whole thing?"

She was now shaking with holding back her reactions.

He nodded.

"Aye. It was her insistence tha' no one ken, even ye, t' keep ye from harm."

Her eyes flashed, then narrowed. The blood continued to flow from her hands, claws on her feet beginning to dig holes in the wood flooring. Her voice began to rise in volume.

"An' ye thought this would be a good idea?"

"Aye. If she was concerned wi' wha' th' Tremere might do t' ye over it, an' she be knowin' th' Tremere better than either of us, then it's best t' listen t' her on th' subject, aye?"

"An' how, exactly, does me reaction to it when she shows up as Rebecca, help t' keep her safe?"

There was a soft knocking at the door.

"Well, t' be fair, I think she thought tha' she would see ye in a clan meetin' first or some such."

"Come!"

Her eyes didn't shift from Jamie's face.

Cautiously, she stepped into the room. She took a look between Jamie and Grace, then at the blood on the floor.

"Geez, you guys."

"Don't worry, it's all self inflicted, for now."

Her voice didn't soften at all with the arrival of the topic of conversation.

He leaned close, and met Grace's eyes.

"Would ye ha' me put us all in danger? Or ha' ye angry wi' me for a while until ye slapped me around for hurtin' ye a wee bit?"

Her right fist came up, right into his chin, claws carefully still embedded in her own flesh.

"I'd rather have been told at th' outset, ye bastard! Ye nay think I can protect meself an' me grandchildren?!"

He didn't even attempt to block the punch. He took the punch, his hand reflexively going up to wipe the blood from his lip.

"Aye," he said calmly, then looked up and met Rebecca's eyes. "I ken ye would ha' rather tha'. An' aye, I ken ye can protect us all. But for once in your life woman, let me protect ye for a while!"

Grace turned away from them both and stalked a few paced, claws clicking on the floor. She stopped, and just stood, shaking, facing away from them.

She sucked in a breath and covered her mouth when the Gangrel punched the Brujah. It was soft, but audible, a sound of surprise, worry and slight fear.

Then she stood there, looking between the two. Finally, she turned to Jamie.

"By the Saints, I'm sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean ... I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be so upsetting. Are you okay?"