The all-seeing eye. What a disturbing thought. Yet, haunting as it may be, up to now it’s not as bad as I feared it would be. Patience though, I will elaborate on that later.

Before I could get to the gathering I had to meet with Doctor Euler. We had to discuss a few things. Here’s the interesting part though: The naming of one of the Nine was due. And Euler asks me which kind of outcome I’d prefer. Now listen to me listen to that. You silly old boy! Who am I to meddle with the affairs of an archon? Don’t tempt me. I also told him that I trust him more than I trust Baumgartner. Which doesn’t say as much as anyone might think. Also he’s been advising me, if rarely. I told the other two that he would. I’ll have to think of a name for that. As well as something for the other three… He also brought up the idea to have Esther’s blood tested by the Tremere. Might be for the better. It will also tell them just how far Esther is bound. I’m undecided just yet.

Then I had to pick up Karsten. Obviously for the Nine to have an educated conversation they needed to be gathered in full number. Not exactly the choice I would have made, but I guess that’s just how orders work. You are supposed to follow them. They did have their little talk and, no surprise there, still ended up offering Simon’s name and therefore him to be the virgin sacrifice. Now comes the tough part: This motherfucking son of a whore had the balls to try and escape, thereby threatening to bring god’s holy wrath down upon – not only the people who were on the mission with him – but also the rest of the entire domain. Wasn’t I pleased to see him staked again. Jason took him back to the Staufenburg, praise the lord. I have never seen a greater coward. Wartenburg? Now there’s a woman who died in style. Karsten? Everything I have to say about him pretty much marks him the biggest looser in world’s history – which I shall not neglect to explain in great length and detail to his clan, should they make the mistake of asking me. Especially Mertens!

Ah, I almost forgot. I went to see the old man. Crawled right down the fucking sewers. Okay, I walked. I had a flashlight. Had a cane. Still. Not a trip I’d like to undertake too often. Then again, I have to say he was very hospitable. I even enjoyed the conversation. And I do think he enjoyed the gift I gave him, now that I finally could. He also says he’ll have our back, which is super, since he’s one of the most powerful guys I know – if not THE most powerful one of them.

And then the woman we had all been waiting for: Good, old Hope. God, did I want to rip her a new one or what? I tell her that the people looking for their lost comrades were purely mortal and had no kindred mess with their brains. We know. We checked. Naturally she didn’t believe me, so Jean told her she might as well take a look herself. That little idea prompted her to go waltzing about, claiming she was on senate business. Aaaaah… No. You’re not. Being a senator, I think I would know if you were. Of course that confused people a lot, so they came running to us. At the end of the night I told her that if she wanted to stay she’d better make herself useful and never again doubt my word as senator. I’ll have to talk to the other two about punishing her for having such a big mouth on her.

Talk about big mouths. There’s a new Malkavian in town. Or rather – an old guest. He keeps appearing, then disappears for months, years at a time – and comes right back. People think of him as some kind of oracle. He even signs his letters that way. I had a sneak peek inside his head. VERY confusing. Was to be expected from a Malkavian. Fine with me. The records don’t show anything bad on him. People kept hinting that he’s bad news anyway. And he probably also screwed up with Alena a little. I’ll keep an eye on him and see what happens. What I really don’t like is his hinting that punishing the nine would have been a domain matter. Yeah, because we’re damn likely to stand against the will of an archon, especially with our prince gone. Sure thing. I don’t think so.

For some reason there’s this odd thing with people trying to get rid of Raphael again. At least it appears that way. Petricz must have slipped him a note, calling him a liar and saying she’d make him feel sorry. Just about the same kind of threat she made to Karsten. Though I bet that if she’s acting this way Hope is in on it. Perhaps Esmeralda, though I’m not sure about that. And what makes it even more confusing that even good Miss Pearse might be involved. I should have a close watch over poor Raph there. The domain needs him, much more than those people realize. Jason suggestion had better not come up just to make it easier to get rid of him. Bad Nate… I shouldn’t be thinking this. Sorry, J.

We still have to punish Petricz and Shepherd. Bleh. I hate that part. Why did that man have to take part of the burden? Okay, most likely because he’s getting something else out of it. Sure. Doesn’t mean I have to like the notion. I bet Jean is much more happy about this than I am, which is very odd, considering.

One might never have guessed it. But Baumgartner has more guts than is good for him. When I stormed out that room because I was so angry at Karsten and headed for the other door Baumgartner blocked my way. Said he was worried about me. I told him that he’d better show more empathy next time before reckoning that it’s a good thing to stand in my way when I’m angry. Fortunately he thought better of it and stepped aside. Good boy. Maybe there’s hope for him after all.

God, I really have to keep myself from making more Hope jokes.

Also, I’m Sauron. Never forget that. I see everything. I am the evil overlord who manipulates them all. And I do it for no other reason than personal gain. Yepp. That’s me. … Or at least that’s common theory about my character. I really should feel insulted about the lack of depth people attribute to my motivation, shallow as it may be.

Somehow I feel I need to sort things out with the Brujah. Most of them hate my guts, which is fine by me. When they start undermining the senate I get pissed. You don’t like me? Grand. Follow my command or I’ll have to spank you. Then again, I won’t go easy on them just because they’ll throw a tantrum if I don’t. Willful children, really. And that is me talking. Such a shame.

Now here’s what’s interesting: Mascha told me a few things about what went down in that room. Among other things Amalia must have told her sire Harkon to STFU when he got into some lengthy stories. He also tried to sway the others to name Mascha. He backed up when people weren’t following his lead and eventually was happy enough with Karsten. Of course the lady isn’t too pleased with him now. All the better for me. It means that she’s likely to help me take him down, once his time has come. If he keeps his current pace up that’s sooner than he might expect. Might do his daughter some good as well. However, Mascha also offered a little something on von Stein. Of course it comes with a price tag. Normally I would offer her information. But she’s a Nosferatu, so that’s kind of pointless. I’ll have to come up with something she might actually be interested in.

Once more down to the three.

Thomas. We had a little talk. Might even be things are finally turning around. Also, I kissed him. He seemed to be very eager on that, so I finally got that out of the way. One of these nights I might even get myself to take a glimpse and find out what it actually meant to him. Still. We worked well together that night. I entertain the idea that maybe we might again in the future. Wouldn’t that be something.

Call me a fool. I still find it hard to be afraid of Jean. I know that he didn’t enjoy most of the things that happened last night. However, even he must have realized things went well for us for a change. Besides, he has decided to keep dropping by. Which is good. People tend to find out shit about you anyway. Might as well be the shit you enjoy. Everybody has a weakness or two. And while I may be his things could be much worse for both of us.

I remember the letters Jason sent me, complaining about Alena’s gift. Writing about the worries he had that maybe Coraline shared her talent. Telling me that the idea of somebody being able to read his mind bothered him. And I can see why. So I thought in telling him the truth I would loose him. Completely. Yet when I checked his aura he was relieved. Impressed even. And that I don’t understand at all. Not to say that I’m not glad. Quite the contrary. I am very, very happy and relieved myself. He’s got the basic and more advanced parts of his job down: Work. Work hard. Make yourself indispensable. Boy, he knows his part of the game. His coming here was very good fortune. For me. Sure, he can be an asshole. Up to now he hasn’t been one to my face yet though. Behind my back – well, at least not much.

Now, a smart man would use his gift to check on his brother. Am I that much of a psi cop? I wonder how the people who claim to be close to me would answer this question…

In dünnen Rinnsalen floss das Wasser in den Ausguss, nahm hier und da weiße Schaumkronen mit. Einen müderen Mann hätte das stetige Plätschern aus dem Wasserhahn zweifelsfrei einschlafen lassen. Dieser hier aber stand konzentriert am Waschbecken und wusch immer wieder die Klinge des Rasiermessers unter dem schmalen Wasserstrahl aus.
Er hatte viele Jahre Angst davor gehabt etwas scharfes wie ein Rasiermesser in die Hand zu nehmen. Frustrierend daran war vor allem, dass es seine eigene Schuld war. Selbsttraumatisierung, sozusagen. Damals, als er noch ein Junge war. Und heute? Heute stand er hier mit einem unguten Gefühl.
“It’ll be the last time you will ever have to shave, my sweet boy.” Das waren ihre Worte gewesen. Ihre Stimme hatte ihm verraten, dass sie es ernst meinte. Sogar liebevoll auf eine Art und Weise, die er noch nicht verstehen konnte.
Natürlich hatte ihm Gregory angeboten diese Arbeit für ihn zu erledigen. Es wäre sicherlich schneller gegangen. Sich dazu zwingend nicht im Gedanken daran zu schmunzeln führte Nathaniel den nächsten Zug die Wange entlang und wusch erneut die Klinge ab.
Erklärungen hatte sie viele abgegeben. Eine unglaubwürdiger als die andere. Und irgendwie hatte sie immer gewusst, dass er ihr die fadenscheinigen Lügen nicht abnahm. Sie hatte auch gewusst, dass er ihr das, was sie ihrer Stimme nach für die Wahrheit hielt nicht abnahm. Und dann, dann hatte sie… Ja, was eigentlich? Man hätte es wohl Kuss nennen müssen. Aber er erinnerte sich zu deutlich an ihre Zähne. Die erspürte! Und dann doch wieder nicht.
Warum machte er sich überhaupt Gedanken? Wahrscheinlich würde das alles einfach nur ein sehr schräges Date mit einer sehr schönen Frau werden. In zwei Wochen wären Dee und er an irgendeinem weißen Strand. Alles schön.
Wieder ein Zug. Diesmal über das Kinn.
Im unteren Stockwerk klingelte das Telefon. Er konnte Gregorys Schritte hören, konnte hören wie der Butler das Telefon abnahm und ein gedämpftes, kurzes Gespräch führte.
“He can stay with you, Nathaniel… Forever…” Ihre Worte in sein Ohr gehaucht, als seine Gedanken weiter gegangen waren als sie es angenommen oder vorhergesehen hatte. “All you have to do is let go of her, Nathaniel… Everything will be fine then…”
Mehr Schaum verabschiedete sich in den Abfluss. Die Klinge glitt nun die Kehle entlang. Er konnte nicht anders als dennoch kurz zu schlucken, hielt das Messer aber locker genug um sich dabei nicht zu schneiden.
Sie hatte auch gewusst, dass er nicht im geringsten vor hatte von Dee abzulassen. “You will want to. Very soon.” Er hatte Eifersucht gehört. Eifersucht auf eine Frau, die, laut ihrer Aussage, weit unterlegen sein sollte.
Nie wieder rasieren. Was sollte einem das schon wert sein? Und warum hatte er dann tatsächlich zur Klinge gegriffen?
“She will die either way. But if you agree, I will allow her to die a natural death. I promise.”
Das einzige, woran er dann noch gedacht hatte waren lange Ausritte am Strand entlang. An das Meer. Das Rauschen in seinen Ohren. Jeden Gedanken hatte er an dieses Rauschen geheftet. Wellen. Wasser. Die weißen Kronen auf den Wellen.
Das Meer und die Gedanken daran würden ihr Schutzschuld sein. Solange, bis die andere es nicht mehr ändern konnte. “Such a fool… Arrogant prick…”, murmelte er zu sich selbst ehe er das Rasiermesser noch einmal abwusch und schließlich auch das Gesicht säuberte. “She’ll know…”
“Master Elyot? You are being expected.”