Inheritance, 4/?
Sep. 29th, 2005 06:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartWell, this is just a short part, but I managed to write it fairly quickly, so have fun.
Inheritance
by Soledad
A “Pathways in the Dark” story
Part 02B of “The Anarch Chronicles”. Follows “Daughter of the Night”.
Notes:
Sunnydale is, of course, the home of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. The location is my own doing.
Part Two
Within the hour, the ghoul girl, Rosaria, had Valeria’s things packed – she could be extremely efficient when needed – and they were on their way to the south. Salvador calculated that they would need the entire night for the trip (his automobile was not that fast) if he drove without a break and fed from Rosaria somewhere mid-way. Usually, he didn’t need to feed more often than every second or third day, but he already had a long and exhausting trip behind him. Plus, he had to count on the Prince eventually setting a trap for them. It was better to get out of Archon’s Domain as soon as possible.
He had left Antonio behind with detailed instructions about what to do to protect the Sorrels, and with he promise to send other ghouls to help him. He didn’t want the San Francisco Brujah getting involved. Their Primogen belonged to Justin Davies’ bloodline and Salvador wanted some small influence in San Francisco. That could come handy one day. Antonio was an intelligent man, despite his simple origins, and – having once been Ferdinand’s ghoul – extremely loyal. He had also fought the undead before; he would hold out until reinforcements arrived.
Personally, Salvador had not particular interest in the Sorrels, although he would Embrace one of them – or both – if that was the only way to protect them. As they had protected Valeria while he had been otherwise occupied, giving her a home, a family and relative safety, even if only for a limited time span, he was in their debt, deeply. And Salvador Garcia always paid his debts, no mater the costs.
Rosaria had built a makeshift bed on the back seats for the seňorita, so that Valeria – now clad in a comfortable full skirt and a poncho, Mexican-style – could sleep all the way. She even slept through Salvador’s “lunch break”, a fifteen-minute pause held outside the small town of Sunnydale. It lay almost exactly in the middle of their way from San Francisco to Los Angeles, and Salvador wanted to be well-fed and at his best when driving along, even though they didn’t actually drive through the town itself. The Boca del Inferno, lying directly under the town centre, was one of the worst Sabbat nests in California, and also the breeding and dwelling place of various ugly and malevolent demons. He didn’t want to encounter any of them, but he intended to be prepared, just in case.
Fortunately, they had passed the Hellmouth without incident – to tell the truth, he was driving like a madman, as fast as the automobile could take it – and reached Los Angeles just an hour after sunrise. Salvador was drained, not just because of the all-night-long drive, but also because of the possible dangers he might have to face alone. Brave and fierce Valeria might be, but she wouldn’t be much help against the Sabbat – or the Prince’s killers. And Rosaria wasn’t a fighter to begin with. She wasn’t supposed to be one. She had been carefully chosen and taught to be the handmaid of a high-ranking Brujah woman. Like one Valeria was supposed to become one day.
But now they finally were in the safety of Los Angeles, a city with a strong Anarch presence, ruled by a so-called Prince whose influence was limited to the Downtown area, and for the first time in a very long while, Salvador allowed himself to relax. Alonzo was waiting for them in the marble-paved foyer of the luxurious Empire Hotel, looking as if he’d spent his entire unlife in such places. His relief upon seeing them, safe and sound, was obvious.
“Our haven is ready and waiting,” he told Salvador. “And I’ve found several possible mansions and estates for Valeria. She’ll have to take a look and choose the one she likes best.”
“It’s not urgent,” Valeria eyed the luxurious surroundings appreciatively. “I’d like to enjoy my suite for a few days first. But,” she added, turning to Salvador, “before we start anything new here, we need to speak. In private.”
“Of course,” the vampire nodded. “Would today at sunset suffice? That would give you some time to unpack.”
“I don’t intend to do much unpacking,” Valeria shrugged. “Besides, that’s what I have Rosaria for. But around sunset would be convenient, I think… for both of us.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“What could she have meant with that?” Salvador wondered, after they had taken their leave from the girls and were driving over to East LA, this time with Alonzo behind the steering wheel.
Alonzo shrugged. “That’s hard to tell. Are you really sure that she’s a resistor?”
“Had you asked me a year ago, my answer would have been a clear yes,” Salvador replied thoughtfully. “Now, however… I’m not that sure anymore. An average mortal would have broken under Archon’s mental assault within seconds.”
“She was able to resist Ventrue mind-games?” Alonzo was impressed.
“For a moment or two only… but yes, she was. On the other hand, I was able to make her forget what happened between us… that I nearly killed her in my crazed Thirst. So maybe she’s just really strong-willed.”
“Good for a Brujah candidate,” Alonzo commented. “And as you’re planning to Embrace her anyway, It wouldn’t matter even if she’d kept some fragmented memories from your first encounter. She won’t harm you, at any case… on the contrary. I think she’s interested in you.”
“You think so?” Salvador asked in pleasant surprise. The difference of their mortal ages didn’t bother him, and he knew it wouldn’t bother Valeria either. Young women of her age and social status often married considerably older men. It was a tradition among the rich. A stable financial background was important. One always could keep fiery young lovers to balance out the failings of an aging husband. That was a tradition, too.
“I’m fairly sure,” Alonzo grinned. “There’s a hunger in her eyes when she looks at you… and that speculative look reserved for future husbands.”
“Well, I couldn’t exactly marry her,” Salvador grinned back, “but I’m sure she’ll appreciate the advantages of our existence, once I’ve Embraced her. She has so much fire in her, so much passion – she couldn’t live as a homemaker, not even as an outrageously rich one.”
They both laughed, and then Alonzo turned the automobile to the left and parked it in front of the simple, two-floor building.
“Speaking of home,” he said with almost convincing causality, “here is ours.”
Next part already in progress, but I can't make any promises.
Inheritance
by Soledad
A “Pathways in the Dark” story
Part 02B of “The Anarch Chronicles”. Follows “Daughter of the Night”.
Notes:
Sunnydale is, of course, the home of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. The location is my own doing.
Part Two
Within the hour, the ghoul girl, Rosaria, had Valeria’s things packed – she could be extremely efficient when needed – and they were on their way to the south. Salvador calculated that they would need the entire night for the trip (his automobile was not that fast) if he drove without a break and fed from Rosaria somewhere mid-way. Usually, he didn’t need to feed more often than every second or third day, but he already had a long and exhausting trip behind him. Plus, he had to count on the Prince eventually setting a trap for them. It was better to get out of Archon’s Domain as soon as possible.
He had left Antonio behind with detailed instructions about what to do to protect the Sorrels, and with he promise to send other ghouls to help him. He didn’t want the San Francisco Brujah getting involved. Their Primogen belonged to Justin Davies’ bloodline and Salvador wanted some small influence in San Francisco. That could come handy one day. Antonio was an intelligent man, despite his simple origins, and – having once been Ferdinand’s ghoul – extremely loyal. He had also fought the undead before; he would hold out until reinforcements arrived.
Personally, Salvador had not particular interest in the Sorrels, although he would Embrace one of them – or both – if that was the only way to protect them. As they had protected Valeria while he had been otherwise occupied, giving her a home, a family and relative safety, even if only for a limited time span, he was in their debt, deeply. And Salvador Garcia always paid his debts, no mater the costs.
Rosaria had built a makeshift bed on the back seats for the seňorita, so that Valeria – now clad in a comfortable full skirt and a poncho, Mexican-style – could sleep all the way. She even slept through Salvador’s “lunch break”, a fifteen-minute pause held outside the small town of Sunnydale. It lay almost exactly in the middle of their way from San Francisco to Los Angeles, and Salvador wanted to be well-fed and at his best when driving along, even though they didn’t actually drive through the town itself. The Boca del Inferno, lying directly under the town centre, was one of the worst Sabbat nests in California, and also the breeding and dwelling place of various ugly and malevolent demons. He didn’t want to encounter any of them, but he intended to be prepared, just in case.
Fortunately, they had passed the Hellmouth without incident – to tell the truth, he was driving like a madman, as fast as the automobile could take it – and reached Los Angeles just an hour after sunrise. Salvador was drained, not just because of the all-night-long drive, but also because of the possible dangers he might have to face alone. Brave and fierce Valeria might be, but she wouldn’t be much help against the Sabbat – or the Prince’s killers. And Rosaria wasn’t a fighter to begin with. She wasn’t supposed to be one. She had been carefully chosen and taught to be the handmaid of a high-ranking Brujah woman. Like one Valeria was supposed to become one day.
But now they finally were in the safety of Los Angeles, a city with a strong Anarch presence, ruled by a so-called Prince whose influence was limited to the Downtown area, and for the first time in a very long while, Salvador allowed himself to relax. Alonzo was waiting for them in the marble-paved foyer of the luxurious Empire Hotel, looking as if he’d spent his entire unlife in such places. His relief upon seeing them, safe and sound, was obvious.
“Our haven is ready and waiting,” he told Salvador. “And I’ve found several possible mansions and estates for Valeria. She’ll have to take a look and choose the one she likes best.”
“It’s not urgent,” Valeria eyed the luxurious surroundings appreciatively. “I’d like to enjoy my suite for a few days first. But,” she added, turning to Salvador, “before we start anything new here, we need to speak. In private.”
“Of course,” the vampire nodded. “Would today at sunset suffice? That would give you some time to unpack.”
“I don’t intend to do much unpacking,” Valeria shrugged. “Besides, that’s what I have Rosaria for. But around sunset would be convenient, I think… for both of us.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“What could she have meant with that?” Salvador wondered, after they had taken their leave from the girls and were driving over to East LA, this time with Alonzo behind the steering wheel.
Alonzo shrugged. “That’s hard to tell. Are you really sure that she’s a resistor?”
“Had you asked me a year ago, my answer would have been a clear yes,” Salvador replied thoughtfully. “Now, however… I’m not that sure anymore. An average mortal would have broken under Archon’s mental assault within seconds.”
“She was able to resist Ventrue mind-games?” Alonzo was impressed.
“For a moment or two only… but yes, she was. On the other hand, I was able to make her forget what happened between us… that I nearly killed her in my crazed Thirst. So maybe she’s just really strong-willed.”
“Good for a Brujah candidate,” Alonzo commented. “And as you’re planning to Embrace her anyway, It wouldn’t matter even if she’d kept some fragmented memories from your first encounter. She won’t harm you, at any case… on the contrary. I think she’s interested in you.”
“You think so?” Salvador asked in pleasant surprise. The difference of their mortal ages didn’t bother him, and he knew it wouldn’t bother Valeria either. Young women of her age and social status often married considerably older men. It was a tradition among the rich. A stable financial background was important. One always could keep fiery young lovers to balance out the failings of an aging husband. That was a tradition, too.
“I’m fairly sure,” Alonzo grinned. “There’s a hunger in her eyes when she looks at you… and that speculative look reserved for future husbands.”
“Well, I couldn’t exactly marry her,” Salvador grinned back, “but I’m sure she’ll appreciate the advantages of our existence, once I’ve Embraced her. She has so much fire in her, so much passion – she couldn’t live as a homemaker, not even as an outrageously rich one.”
They both laughed, and then Alonzo turned the automobile to the left and parked it in front of the simple, two-floor building.
“Speaking of home,” he said with almost convincing causality, “here is ours.”
Next part already in progress, but I can't make any promises.
