Ficbit 2, Part 2 (finished)
Sep. 23rd, 2005 10:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartDaughter of the Night
by Soledad
A “Pathways in the Dark” story
Part 01/B of “The Anarch Chronicles”.
Warning: violence
Author’s notes:
This is a direct continuation of Page 1. I divided the story in two parts so that it would be easier to read.
The idea that Christopher Houghton would wear the body of a 13-year-old is my twist on the facts. The official White Wolf Genealogy says that he was born in 1669 and Embraced in 1692. He’s of the 5th generation and almost 300 years old at the time of this story, so he has to be incredibly powerful. I thought such power trapped in a child’s body would be interesting.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Alonzo Solace arrived a day later, shortly before sunrise. He came by automobile – a sturdy black vehicle with tinted glasses and a lot of weapons and bottled blood supplies kept in cleverly hidden storage places. He gave a detailed report about his activities in Los Angeles and spoke optimistically about the LA situation. About the chance for young Anarch vampires to set foot in that city and live there as they please, in peace with the Kine, just like in the ancient times of Carthage.
“There is Camarilla presence there,” he said, “but they don’t have the same suffocating grip on the city as back home. Los Angeles is geographically divided into many different parts – an open city, hard for one power to control. We’ll be able to get rooted there and grow strong.”
“Does the city have a Prince?” Salvador asked.
Alonzo nodded. “Yes. A sixth generation Toreador named Don Sebastian Dominguez has proclaimed himself as the Prince in 1870. But his control doesn’t go any further than the Downtown area.”
“Still, he’s of old blood,” Salvador said thoughtfully, “which means he must be a powerful one. What about supporters?”
“They come mostly from his own Clan,” Alonzo reported. “The most important one is his brood brother, a certain Joaquin Murietta, who’s also his Enforcer – a smart man, and a vicious fighter, they say. He can become a problem. The Prince’s own progeny is another matter entirely. The most important one is Victor Girard – in his breathing days the owner of the Girard Country Club and the entire Girard township. He’s a fashion designer whom the Prince has Embraced to watch over the growing industrial base of LA. He is little known yet, but can become very important one day, as he has excellent connections.”
“And the others?” Salvador asked.
“Well, the ones loyal to him don’t really count,” Alonzo nodded. “More interesting is the fact, though, that his pet Childe, Isaac Abrams, whom he’d Embraced to control the movie industry in Hollywood, has gone Anarch on him over so-called ‘artistic differences’ and is now his strongest opponent. Isaac keeps Hollywood under strict Anarch control, even though Hollywood Hills belong to the Camarilla.”
“Hmmm…” Salvador digested the news for a while. “Who’s sired this Toreador Prince?”
“Christopher Houghton,” Alonzo shivered involuntarily. “A true monster, if you've ever met one. He’s of Ancient Blood – fifth generation, Embraced in the seventeenth century. Fortunately, he also wears the body of a thirteen-year-old boy. If caught unaware, he could be destroyed by sheer force, if necessary. Also, he must hold back in public, in order not to endanger the Masquerade.”
“Still, we’ll have to keep an eye on him,” Salvador said. “He could be very dangerous for us. We’re not used to monsters in children’s bodies anymore. All right. How strong is the Ventrue presence?”
“There are a lot of them, but they are mostly young, 8th generation or younger,” Alonzo replied. “And most of them are Camarilla and in the movie industry, save from two lawyers who operate a very successful law firm, Navital & Waters. The most influential one is Louis Fortier, a former French aristocrat and professional soldier. Currently, he’s the Ventrue Primogen in LA – has been since 1912, in fact – but it’s said that he’s not content with Don Sebastian’s rule. So, while he might not side with us openly, he could be a valuable ally in the background. More so since he practically rules West LA as his own Domain.”
“I’ll keep that in my mind,” Salvador nodded. “What about our own Clan?”
“Well, the strongest supporter of the Camarilla is a rich industrial named Justin Davies,” Alonzo informed him. “His Childe, Cyrus, is also his business partner, working under the mortal name of Russell Winters. Davies is loyal to the Prince, but his Childer are very ambitious. One of them, Tara, is the Prince of San Diego, and I do have the impression that Cyrus himself is out to get Don Sebastian’s office.”
“The better for us,” Salvador shrugged. “They’ll support us against the Prince when it comes to a fight.”
“They also might be planning to play us and the Prince against each other,” Alonzo warned.
“They’re welcome to try,” Salvador replied coldly. “What about the local Anarch forces?”
“Well, some of Marguerite Foccard’s Childer are already in position,” Alonzo said, “and more might be coming. Then there is Smiling Jack, a rather unsavoury fellow, who’s said to have been a Caribbean pirate in the seventeenth century – he fanatically hates the Camarilla, but can’t really be controlled by anyone, so we should be careful while dealing with him. And there is a recently Embraced – and abandoned – fledgling, a Caitiff, with a great fire in him. I think you should take him under your wings. His name’s Nines Rodriguez. But, unlikely as it sounds, I think we can count on the Anarch Ventrue. They are strong, and they have a deep hatred towards the Prince. They even accuse him to be in league with the Sabbat.”
Salvador raised an eyebrow, inquired. “How likely is that?”
“Highly unlikely,” Alonzo replied. “Don Sebastian has been leading a regular witch hunt against the Sabbat – or whom he considers the Sabbat – for the last decade or so. He had several members of his own Clan destroyed, who just wanted to join us against the restrictions of the Camarilla. The Childer of those victims could be our best allies.”
“That has to wait, for the time being,” Salvador replied. “We’ll drive up to California again, and then take a ship from Mexico to Spain. We are needed at home.”
Alonzo shrugged. He didn’t ask why they had to go back where he’d just returned from. He didn’t care. Salvador was family, and as long as he could remain with his family, the location or the route was all the same for him.
“You should feed and rest,” Salvador added; the apparent youth of Alonzo always made him treat the other vampire as he would treat one of his long-dead younger brothers. Even though Alonzo was, in fact, half a century older than him. Having grown up as the eldest of eight siblings could do that to a person.
“I will,” Alonzo replied, “But first I’ve got an itch in desperate need to be scratched.”
He stepped closer to Salvador, rubbing his crotch against the other vampire’s to illustrate the meaning of his words. Salvador sighed. Not that he’d have had anything against a quick recreational tumble in the sheets… under normal circumstances. Alonzo was a beautiful creature, not to mention sensuous and fierce – and that was the problem. Their sexual encounters usually led to heavy blood-sharing, and right now, Salvador’s controls were precarious at best.
“Alonzo,” he said regretfully, groping the tight, shapely ass of his compadre, “this is not the right time…”
Alonzo’s characteristic, quick anger spiked at once. He never took rejection well, most likely because of his past.
“Not the right time?” he snarled, grabbing Salvador’s collar and crushing their mouths together in a brutal kiss. “You goddamn peasant, I haven’t had a decent drop of Clan blood for weeks – you know I’m choosy with whom I share – and haven’t been laid even longer, and you dare to deny me? Do you think I can’t take from you what I need, just because I always ask nicely? Well, watch me! I’m older and stronger than you!”
He grabbed Salvador’s arm with a vice-like grip and tore open the other vampire’s wrist with his fangs savagely, drinking with deep, desperate gulps, the indescribable feeling of home spreading through his entire being like a warming fire. He could taste Ferdinand in Salvador’s Vitae. It wasn’t the same, of course, but the closest he could get here. Just as Ferdinand was the closest thing he had to a Sire.
One always experienced the sensation of homecoming when tasting the Blood of one’s own Clan, even if it came from a different bloodline. But ever since Ferdinand had found the newly Embraced fledgling on the streets of Barcelona, abandoned by his unknown Sire, half-starved and crazed with blood lust, Alonzo had developed an unsettling dependence from Ferdinand’s Vitae. Which was part of the reason why he got paired up with Salvador every time he had to leave Spain for a lengthy trip. It was a weakness – the only one he had – but it couldn’t be helped.
For a moment, Salvador let himself be washed away by the ecstatic sensation of being fed from – then he tore his bloody wrist from Alonzo’s mouth and backhanded the other vampire with such a brutal force that Alonzo’s skull hit the wall with a loud crunch.
“You stupid, selfish bastard of a useless nobleman,” he growled. “You want a fight? I’ll give you one!”
Alonzo was as quick as lightning and twice as dangerous. But now he was cornered, and thus Salvador had the advantage of greater mass. His broad body was more heavily built, with dense muscled that he had developed in his mortal years, by labouring in the burning sun on the fields in Andalusia. In a situation where physical strength was required few could take it up with him.
Wrestling Alonzo’s arms behind his back and holding both captured wrists in one iron hand, Salvador slammed the other vampire face-down onto the table, yanked his pants down, kicked his legs apart and slammed into him brutally, without preamble. Alonzo howled in pain and pleasure, arching under the heavy weight of his friend, trying to take Salvador deeper into his body. As they often fought with each other, encounters like this weren’t unusual between them... although rarely this vicious.
After a fast and furious coupling, Alonzo shuddered his release and went limp under Salvador’s body. Although sexually very active, even for a vampire, he usually preferred women. If he slept with other men, he always dominated them. Only with Salvador could he let go of his control and wariness completely. Only to Salvador did he always submit, losing himself in the great, hard sex nobody else could give him.
Seeing from the outside, their relationship might seem abusive, with him as the abused party. But Alonzo needed these rough encounters, especially when he had been separated from his “family” for a longer time span. It was his way to rebound with them. And since Ferdinand would never touch him – either of them, or any of his other progeny – that way, he had to turn Salvador to satisfy his secret needs.
“You little fool,” Salvador murmured a good deal later – after they had cleaned up and were now resting on the bed. “What crawled up your ass and bit you again? You could have sent me into Frenzy with that stupid act. I could have killed you.”
“Your hold on the Beast is better than that,” Alonzo replied lazily, snuggling up on his side and resting his head on his broad chest.
“I did Frenzy last night,” Salvador said grimly. “I’ve killed at least five men in my rage. Not that they didn’t deserve it, mind you, but I tore them to pieces. And afterwards, I nearly drained the girl I was trying to save.”
“What?” Alonzo sat up so suddenly that he almost fell off the bed. “What on Earth happened to you to lose it like that?”
In a few poignant sentences as was his wont, Salvador described last night’s events and explained the possible advantages of winning Valeria Annunciata de Venango y Velez – and her considerable wealth – for the Anarch cause.
“But the truth is, I’d have interfered for any penniless street girl, too,” he admitted. “They wanted to capture her and violate her – just like those bastards did with my sweet little sister, Inez, back home. I was too late to save her; I swore at her grave that I’d never walk away when I can save any girl from the same fate.”
Alonzo nodded, familiar with the story already. “Do you think the girl would really support us?” he then asked doubtfully.
“Oh, I want more than just her money,” Salvador replied with a dark smile. “I want her for the Clan. You should have seen how she fought, Alonzo. She’d shot three of the thugs already, and fought with a revolver in each hand as long as the bullets lasted. And even while they were holding her arms, she managed to break the chief honcho’s face with her forehead and kicked him in the nuts. She’ll make a fabulous Brujah.”
“If Ferdinand allows you to make a Childe,” Alonzo commented.
“I’ve been freed half a century ago,” Salvador said. “I’m my own vampire now and can do as I please. Ferdinand has fought for our freedom all his unlife – he won’t interfere. I could have made Childe a long time ago if I wanted.”
“You did not? Why? I always thought you’d want a really big brood.”
“I do. But I’ve never met one I’d have liked to keep before,” Salvador looked up at his friend. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Alonzo asked back.
“Why have you never made a Childe?”
“Oh, that?” Alonzo shrugged. “Too much responsibility. I prefer to travel light – in every aspect.”
“Me, I’ve always wanted a big family in my breathing days,” Salvador said thoughtfully. “In the Kindred sense of it, I still do. Perhaps it’s time to start one.”
“Yeah, but would a pretty and disgustingly rich girl want to become a bloodsucking monster?” Alonzo asked.
“She wouldn’t be the first one among us who came from a rich – or noble – family,” Salvador pointed out. “Ferdinand isn’t a peasant, and neither are you.”
“Well, my joining the undead wasn’t exactly voluntary,” Alonzo reminded dryly. “Some idiot tore my throat out and left me behind in the middle of the Becoming. I’d never have made it without Ferdinand, you know that. Either the vampire hunters would get to me and destroy me – or the Justicars of the Prince.”
“I know,” Salvador nodded. “I’m glad he’s taken you in. I’d have missed my mortal brothers too much without you.”
“I was so terribly jealous of you, you know,” Alonzo said softly. “Before you, it was always just Ferdinand and me. I could pretend that he was my Sire. But when he Embraced you… that all changed, forever. I mean, he’d taken me in, sure, but your were his Childe. He hadn’t made a Childe before you for at least sixty years, and the others were all dead by then. It felt as if I wasn’t good enough anymore.”
“He never intended to Embrace me,” Salvador shrugged. “He only did it because I was dying, and he needed my fighting skills for the cause. We never had that particular bond you have with him.”
“Perhaps,” Alonzo replied. “But I was so afraid that since he had a fledgling, one who was his own, he wouldn’t want to be bothered with me anymore. That he’d kick me out of his unlife.”
“He’d never do that!” Salvador protested. Alonzo nodded.
“I know that. I always have. But fear is seldom reasonable, and I was terrified to be left behind, alone, an unwanted Caitiff again,” he offered Salvador his arm. “Drink from me.”
“Alonzo, I can’t! I’ve had too much last night, the Beast lurks dangerously close to the surface.”
“If you dare to push me away now, I’ll tear your throat out,” Alonzo’s eyes gleamed in silver, his voice was icy and deadly serious.
“And if I bite you know and lose control, I might tear your throat out,” Salvador warned.
“I don’t care,” Alonzo yelled. “Damn you, Salvador, you know I need the link re-established. It’s been too long since we last shared, it’s already faded to almost nothing. You know I can’t bear being alone in my own skull, dammit!”
Salvador knew it, of course. Without the soothing presence of a Clan brother in his mind, Alonzo was constantly plagued by the horrid memories of his short and violent mortal life. Left alone, he’d become madder than a Malkavian in no time.
“Very well,” he sighed in defeat, “let’s share.”
A moment later they were attached to each other’s wrists, completing the circle of passion, thirst and mutual dependence. While both rejected the slavery of a Blood Bond that would make a vampire less than a slave towards his Regnant, the mutual bond created by frequent blood-sharing meant a great deal for both of them.
It was family, friendship and passion, all rolled into one.
It was the deepest connection two vampires could have with each other and still keep their independence.
It was the foundation of their unlives.
~The End~
Continued in “Inheritance”.
by Soledad
A “Pathways in the Dark” story
Part 01/B of “The Anarch Chronicles”.
Warning: violence
Author’s notes:
This is a direct continuation of Page 1. I divided the story in two parts so that it would be easier to read.
The idea that Christopher Houghton would wear the body of a 13-year-old is my twist on the facts. The official White Wolf Genealogy says that he was born in 1669 and Embraced in 1692. He’s of the 5th generation and almost 300 years old at the time of this story, so he has to be incredibly powerful. I thought such power trapped in a child’s body would be interesting.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Alonzo Solace arrived a day later, shortly before sunrise. He came by automobile – a sturdy black vehicle with tinted glasses and a lot of weapons and bottled blood supplies kept in cleverly hidden storage places. He gave a detailed report about his activities in Los Angeles and spoke optimistically about the LA situation. About the chance for young Anarch vampires to set foot in that city and live there as they please, in peace with the Kine, just like in the ancient times of Carthage.
“There is Camarilla presence there,” he said, “but they don’t have the same suffocating grip on the city as back home. Los Angeles is geographically divided into many different parts – an open city, hard for one power to control. We’ll be able to get rooted there and grow strong.”
“Does the city have a Prince?” Salvador asked.
Alonzo nodded. “Yes. A sixth generation Toreador named Don Sebastian Dominguez has proclaimed himself as the Prince in 1870. But his control doesn’t go any further than the Downtown area.”
“Still, he’s of old blood,” Salvador said thoughtfully, “which means he must be a powerful one. What about supporters?”
“They come mostly from his own Clan,” Alonzo reported. “The most important one is his brood brother, a certain Joaquin Murietta, who’s also his Enforcer – a smart man, and a vicious fighter, they say. He can become a problem. The Prince’s own progeny is another matter entirely. The most important one is Victor Girard – in his breathing days the owner of the Girard Country Club and the entire Girard township. He’s a fashion designer whom the Prince has Embraced to watch over the growing industrial base of LA. He is little known yet, but can become very important one day, as he has excellent connections.”
“And the others?” Salvador asked.
“Well, the ones loyal to him don’t really count,” Alonzo nodded. “More interesting is the fact, though, that his pet Childe, Isaac Abrams, whom he’d Embraced to control the movie industry in Hollywood, has gone Anarch on him over so-called ‘artistic differences’ and is now his strongest opponent. Isaac keeps Hollywood under strict Anarch control, even though Hollywood Hills belong to the Camarilla.”
“Hmmm…” Salvador digested the news for a while. “Who’s sired this Toreador Prince?”
“Christopher Houghton,” Alonzo shivered involuntarily. “A true monster, if you've ever met one. He’s of Ancient Blood – fifth generation, Embraced in the seventeenth century. Fortunately, he also wears the body of a thirteen-year-old boy. If caught unaware, he could be destroyed by sheer force, if necessary. Also, he must hold back in public, in order not to endanger the Masquerade.”
“Still, we’ll have to keep an eye on him,” Salvador said. “He could be very dangerous for us. We’re not used to monsters in children’s bodies anymore. All right. How strong is the Ventrue presence?”
“There are a lot of them, but they are mostly young, 8th generation or younger,” Alonzo replied. “And most of them are Camarilla and in the movie industry, save from two lawyers who operate a very successful law firm, Navital & Waters. The most influential one is Louis Fortier, a former French aristocrat and professional soldier. Currently, he’s the Ventrue Primogen in LA – has been since 1912, in fact – but it’s said that he’s not content with Don Sebastian’s rule. So, while he might not side with us openly, he could be a valuable ally in the background. More so since he practically rules West LA as his own Domain.”
“I’ll keep that in my mind,” Salvador nodded. “What about our own Clan?”
“Well, the strongest supporter of the Camarilla is a rich industrial named Justin Davies,” Alonzo informed him. “His Childe, Cyrus, is also his business partner, working under the mortal name of Russell Winters. Davies is loyal to the Prince, but his Childer are very ambitious. One of them, Tara, is the Prince of San Diego, and I do have the impression that Cyrus himself is out to get Don Sebastian’s office.”
“The better for us,” Salvador shrugged. “They’ll support us against the Prince when it comes to a fight.”
“They also might be planning to play us and the Prince against each other,” Alonzo warned.
“They’re welcome to try,” Salvador replied coldly. “What about the local Anarch forces?”
“Well, some of Marguerite Foccard’s Childer are already in position,” Alonzo said, “and more might be coming. Then there is Smiling Jack, a rather unsavoury fellow, who’s said to have been a Caribbean pirate in the seventeenth century – he fanatically hates the Camarilla, but can’t really be controlled by anyone, so we should be careful while dealing with him. And there is a recently Embraced – and abandoned – fledgling, a Caitiff, with a great fire in him. I think you should take him under your wings. His name’s Nines Rodriguez. But, unlikely as it sounds, I think we can count on the Anarch Ventrue. They are strong, and they have a deep hatred towards the Prince. They even accuse him to be in league with the Sabbat.”
Salvador raised an eyebrow, inquired. “How likely is that?”
“Highly unlikely,” Alonzo replied. “Don Sebastian has been leading a regular witch hunt against the Sabbat – or whom he considers the Sabbat – for the last decade or so. He had several members of his own Clan destroyed, who just wanted to join us against the restrictions of the Camarilla. The Childer of those victims could be our best allies.”
“That has to wait, for the time being,” Salvador replied. “We’ll drive up to California again, and then take a ship from Mexico to Spain. We are needed at home.”
Alonzo shrugged. He didn’t ask why they had to go back where he’d just returned from. He didn’t care. Salvador was family, and as long as he could remain with his family, the location or the route was all the same for him.
“You should feed and rest,” Salvador added; the apparent youth of Alonzo always made him treat the other vampire as he would treat one of his long-dead younger brothers. Even though Alonzo was, in fact, half a century older than him. Having grown up as the eldest of eight siblings could do that to a person.
“I will,” Alonzo replied, “But first I’ve got an itch in desperate need to be scratched.”
He stepped closer to Salvador, rubbing his crotch against the other vampire’s to illustrate the meaning of his words. Salvador sighed. Not that he’d have had anything against a quick recreational tumble in the sheets… under normal circumstances. Alonzo was a beautiful creature, not to mention sensuous and fierce – and that was the problem. Their sexual encounters usually led to heavy blood-sharing, and right now, Salvador’s controls were precarious at best.
“Alonzo,” he said regretfully, groping the tight, shapely ass of his compadre, “this is not the right time…”
Alonzo’s characteristic, quick anger spiked at once. He never took rejection well, most likely because of his past.
“Not the right time?” he snarled, grabbing Salvador’s collar and crushing their mouths together in a brutal kiss. “You goddamn peasant, I haven’t had a decent drop of Clan blood for weeks – you know I’m choosy with whom I share – and haven’t been laid even longer, and you dare to deny me? Do you think I can’t take from you what I need, just because I always ask nicely? Well, watch me! I’m older and stronger than you!”
He grabbed Salvador’s arm with a vice-like grip and tore open the other vampire’s wrist with his fangs savagely, drinking with deep, desperate gulps, the indescribable feeling of home spreading through his entire being like a warming fire. He could taste Ferdinand in Salvador’s Vitae. It wasn’t the same, of course, but the closest he could get here. Just as Ferdinand was the closest thing he had to a Sire.
One always experienced the sensation of homecoming when tasting the Blood of one’s own Clan, even if it came from a different bloodline. But ever since Ferdinand had found the newly Embraced fledgling on the streets of Barcelona, abandoned by his unknown Sire, half-starved and crazed with blood lust, Alonzo had developed an unsettling dependence from Ferdinand’s Vitae. Which was part of the reason why he got paired up with Salvador every time he had to leave Spain for a lengthy trip. It was a weakness – the only one he had – but it couldn’t be helped.
For a moment, Salvador let himself be washed away by the ecstatic sensation of being fed from – then he tore his bloody wrist from Alonzo’s mouth and backhanded the other vampire with such a brutal force that Alonzo’s skull hit the wall with a loud crunch.
“You stupid, selfish bastard of a useless nobleman,” he growled. “You want a fight? I’ll give you one!”
Alonzo was as quick as lightning and twice as dangerous. But now he was cornered, and thus Salvador had the advantage of greater mass. His broad body was more heavily built, with dense muscled that he had developed in his mortal years, by labouring in the burning sun on the fields in Andalusia. In a situation where physical strength was required few could take it up with him.
Wrestling Alonzo’s arms behind his back and holding both captured wrists in one iron hand, Salvador slammed the other vampire face-down onto the table, yanked his pants down, kicked his legs apart and slammed into him brutally, without preamble. Alonzo howled in pain and pleasure, arching under the heavy weight of his friend, trying to take Salvador deeper into his body. As they often fought with each other, encounters like this weren’t unusual between them... although rarely this vicious.
After a fast and furious coupling, Alonzo shuddered his release and went limp under Salvador’s body. Although sexually very active, even for a vampire, he usually preferred women. If he slept with other men, he always dominated them. Only with Salvador could he let go of his control and wariness completely. Only to Salvador did he always submit, losing himself in the great, hard sex nobody else could give him.
Seeing from the outside, their relationship might seem abusive, with him as the abused party. But Alonzo needed these rough encounters, especially when he had been separated from his “family” for a longer time span. It was his way to rebound with them. And since Ferdinand would never touch him – either of them, or any of his other progeny – that way, he had to turn Salvador to satisfy his secret needs.
“You little fool,” Salvador murmured a good deal later – after they had cleaned up and were now resting on the bed. “What crawled up your ass and bit you again? You could have sent me into Frenzy with that stupid act. I could have killed you.”
“Your hold on the Beast is better than that,” Alonzo replied lazily, snuggling up on his side and resting his head on his broad chest.
“I did Frenzy last night,” Salvador said grimly. “I’ve killed at least five men in my rage. Not that they didn’t deserve it, mind you, but I tore them to pieces. And afterwards, I nearly drained the girl I was trying to save.”
“What?” Alonzo sat up so suddenly that he almost fell off the bed. “What on Earth happened to you to lose it like that?”
In a few poignant sentences as was his wont, Salvador described last night’s events and explained the possible advantages of winning Valeria Annunciata de Venango y Velez – and her considerable wealth – for the Anarch cause.
“But the truth is, I’d have interfered for any penniless street girl, too,” he admitted. “They wanted to capture her and violate her – just like those bastards did with my sweet little sister, Inez, back home. I was too late to save her; I swore at her grave that I’d never walk away when I can save any girl from the same fate.”
Alonzo nodded, familiar with the story already. “Do you think the girl would really support us?” he then asked doubtfully.
“Oh, I want more than just her money,” Salvador replied with a dark smile. “I want her for the Clan. You should have seen how she fought, Alonzo. She’d shot three of the thugs already, and fought with a revolver in each hand as long as the bullets lasted. And even while they were holding her arms, she managed to break the chief honcho’s face with her forehead and kicked him in the nuts. She’ll make a fabulous Brujah.”
“If Ferdinand allows you to make a Childe,” Alonzo commented.
“I’ve been freed half a century ago,” Salvador said. “I’m my own vampire now and can do as I please. Ferdinand has fought for our freedom all his unlife – he won’t interfere. I could have made Childe a long time ago if I wanted.”
“You did not? Why? I always thought you’d want a really big brood.”
“I do. But I’ve never met one I’d have liked to keep before,” Salvador looked up at his friend. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Alonzo asked back.
“Why have you never made a Childe?”
“Oh, that?” Alonzo shrugged. “Too much responsibility. I prefer to travel light – in every aspect.”
“Me, I’ve always wanted a big family in my breathing days,” Salvador said thoughtfully. “In the Kindred sense of it, I still do. Perhaps it’s time to start one.”
“Yeah, but would a pretty and disgustingly rich girl want to become a bloodsucking monster?” Alonzo asked.
“She wouldn’t be the first one among us who came from a rich – or noble – family,” Salvador pointed out. “Ferdinand isn’t a peasant, and neither are you.”
“Well, my joining the undead wasn’t exactly voluntary,” Alonzo reminded dryly. “Some idiot tore my throat out and left me behind in the middle of the Becoming. I’d never have made it without Ferdinand, you know that. Either the vampire hunters would get to me and destroy me – or the Justicars of the Prince.”
“I know,” Salvador nodded. “I’m glad he’s taken you in. I’d have missed my mortal brothers too much without you.”
“I was so terribly jealous of you, you know,” Alonzo said softly. “Before you, it was always just Ferdinand and me. I could pretend that he was my Sire. But when he Embraced you… that all changed, forever. I mean, he’d taken me in, sure, but your were his Childe. He hadn’t made a Childe before you for at least sixty years, and the others were all dead by then. It felt as if I wasn’t good enough anymore.”
“He never intended to Embrace me,” Salvador shrugged. “He only did it because I was dying, and he needed my fighting skills for the cause. We never had that particular bond you have with him.”
“Perhaps,” Alonzo replied. “But I was so afraid that since he had a fledgling, one who was his own, he wouldn’t want to be bothered with me anymore. That he’d kick me out of his unlife.”
“He’d never do that!” Salvador protested. Alonzo nodded.
“I know that. I always have. But fear is seldom reasonable, and I was terrified to be left behind, alone, an unwanted Caitiff again,” he offered Salvador his arm. “Drink from me.”
“Alonzo, I can’t! I’ve had too much last night, the Beast lurks dangerously close to the surface.”
“If you dare to push me away now, I’ll tear your throat out,” Alonzo’s eyes gleamed in silver, his voice was icy and deadly serious.
“And if I bite you know and lose control, I might tear your throat out,” Salvador warned.
“I don’t care,” Alonzo yelled. “Damn you, Salvador, you know I need the link re-established. It’s been too long since we last shared, it’s already faded to almost nothing. You know I can’t bear being alone in my own skull, dammit!”
Salvador knew it, of course. Without the soothing presence of a Clan brother in his mind, Alonzo was constantly plagued by the horrid memories of his short and violent mortal life. Left alone, he’d become madder than a Malkavian in no time.
“Very well,” he sighed in defeat, “let’s share.”
A moment later they were attached to each other’s wrists, completing the circle of passion, thirst and mutual dependence. While both rejected the slavery of a Blood Bond that would make a vampire less than a slave towards his Regnant, the mutual bond created by frequent blood-sharing meant a great deal for both of them.
It was family, friendship and passion, all rolled into one.
It was the deepest connection two vampires could have with each other and still keep their independence.
It was the foundation of their unlives.
~The End~
Continued in “Inheritance”.
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Date: 2005-09-26 10:06 pm (UTC)As for Christopher Houghton, his tender age came into existence because I can't count. No, really. *g* When I checked his canonocal age, I made a mistake, and later bought the entire idea of the late Prince of LA being able to blackmail the strongest rival Clan into cooperation by keeping Christopher as a hostage.
Of course, when I discovered my mistake (a few weeks ago), the whole thing had been established in the Pathways universe for years. Now you can see why haven't I become a maths teacher, hehehe...