A/N: I don't really know where this came from. I was wandering through the pages of many Moonlight fics, mostly pondering the gaping plotholes from the original storylines, and this just kind of happened. The plot is very organic in the sense that I'm doing absolutely no pre-planning here. Or editing...
Notes: The noble bloodline Lance and Josef talk about goes as follows: Charles (the oldest), Victor, Lance, Luc, Coraline, Marcel, and Henri.
Chapter 01 - An Invitation Not to be Refused
"What is it?" Skye leaned lazily against the bottom of the safety railing, chin resting on the bar, one leg bent at the knee, the other dangling carelessly over the edge.
It wasn't much of a fall – maybe five or six feet – beyond easily survivable. Hell, it would take an act of God to kill her if she fell from that height – but Luc frowned up at her anyways.
"A letter," he replied, when she simply crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him in response. As always, a strange mixture of fond annoyance and frustration-tinged amusement had him shaking his head as he studied the careful script in front of him.
"What does it say?" Skye asked, shifting so she could see the writing from her perch.
"It's an invitation," Luc replied with another frown as he scanned the text. "From my brothers."
"Oh."
She was young – barely eighty-years old, but old enough to know enough of Luc's sordid past to not belittle the very real fear his brothers elicited in people.
"What for?" She asked after a moment of silence, much more subdued than playful now.
"I don't know," Luc replied, chilled to the bone by that realization.
When dealing with his brothers, you always had to be five steps ahead to be able to call it even. Anything further behind than that and you were screwed before you even entered the starting gate.
"Are we going?"
"I'm going," Luc replied, leaning his head back against the wall to glance up at her, mouth tight. "You're staying here."
"Luc." Skye straightened form her relaxed slouch, protest dying on her lips at Luc's frigid look.
"I'm not bringing you with me, Skye. And I'll know if you try to follow me."
"They're dangerous – you'll need back-up."
"They're dangerous," Luc agreed. "But they won't kill me."
Skye moved in a blink of the eye, getting to her feet and jumping over the railing to land in a cat's crouch that barely lasted half a millisecond before she was upright and in his face, eyes flashing.
"How do you know that? Weren't you the one who told be there was no such thing and a sure thing when dealing with your brothers other than death?"
"They won't kill me," Luc replied, watching her with wary amusement. Skye was fiery and passionate and he knew that she would be angry by his amusement with the situation, but she was so cute when she was mad…
"Why?" Skye insisted, eyes flashing, letting him know that she knew he was laughing at her, but she was more curious for an answer than desirous of revenge at the unintentional mocking.
"Because I'm blood," Luc replied, leaning back against the wall and watching her from underneath half-lidded eyes. "They don't kill blood."
"So they won't kill me?" Skye asked, mind already working to try and turn this to her advantage.
"Easy there, Tiger," Luc reached out, grabbing her arm and tugging her into the grip of his arms, looking down at her with a humorless smile. "I'm still not bringing you anywhere near them."
"Come on, Luc," Skye flipped her head in an effort to get her baby-pink bangs out of her eyes as she blinked up at him, tone cajoling.
"No," Luc replied, smile lightening slightly as he reached up to brush those bangs out of her face before bending forward and placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose. "I'm not bringing you anywhere near them."
"But you just said they won't kill blood and I'm blood."
"Distant blood," Luc broke in, tone grim.
"Whatever – blood is blood," Skye continued on, not paying close enough attention to the subtle shifting of Luc's expression.
They was only one level of blood his brothers respected – their own. Skye had a certain degree of safety because she was a direct fledging of their noble line, but it had it's limitations. And besides…
"There are worse things they can do than kill you," Luc stated, gripped her waist lightly with his hands as he stared down at her, expression unreadable.
"Luc?" Skye questioned softly, confused as she reached up to place a hand against the side of his face. He leaned into that hand, closing his eyes and brushing a kiss against her palm before opening them and smiling down at her, pushing his heavy heart aside as he did so.
"Come on," he demanded, releasing her waist and grabbing her hand, tugging her towards the end of the alley. "Let's go out."
"We're already out," Skye replied, easily slipping into an amused tone despite the worry in her eyes as she teased him.
"You know what I mean," Luc grinned despite himself as he tugged her under his arm once more, hugging her close as she stumbled under his strength, a smile lighting up her face as she laughed at him.
No way was he letting his brothers anywhere near her, he thought to himself, smiling down before raising his gaze to scan their surroundings – always watching because so were they.
He was irresponsible – he didn't need his brothers to tell him that.
Spoiled, Coraline had always laughed, playfully roughing up his hair despite his annoyed protests to the contrary.
When he was younger that irresponsibility had results in a swath of destruction – bodies and fledglings and more bodies – until Charles had put a stop to it.
Henri had never told anybody what Charles had done to him to get him to stop, but he'd never looked at his eldest brother to same way as before.
Unlike most vampire families, theirs had the distinction of being unusually large and unusually close – partially because they had known each other in both life and death. Physically, there was only a ten year age difference between Henri – the youngest – and Charles – the oldest.
But sometimes Henri wondered about Charles…
Staring at the elegantly crafted invitation in his hands – an all too real mockery of a previous era – Henri rubbed at his mouth and fought the urge to give in to the fear.
What could Charles want with him, especially now? It had been centuries since he'd seen his brother – shortly after the last cleansing, where they had lost so many.
Charles didn't blame Henri for the cleansing or the angry mob that had arrived at their doorstep so many nights ago, but Henri knew the others sometimes did, even Coraline who had always believed he could do no wrong.
It was before Charles had had his heart-to-heart with Henri, but even so…
Reflection was something that some people never retained the capabilities of, but Henri had managed to pick up on it over the years. Often he reflected on the sheer amount of stupidity he'd been cursed with – how could he have not realized the dangers of his killing habits?
He'd lost a friend in that cleansing – a close friend who had been made almost the same time as him, a friend since his human childhood – and instead of learning his lesson from that loss he had let himself sink deeper into the darkness.
He would never make that mistake again.
"Problems?" Jax lounged on the plush bench seat, glass of wine carelessly placed on the table in front of him as he carefully peeled a peach for his companion, a lovely blonde who's bust size far outnumbered her IQ – the perfect type for a pet.
"No," Henri flipped the invitation over in his hand, frowning at the address on the back before flipping it back over to study the script once more.
"You look awfully serious for it to not be a problem," Jax replied, not glancing up as he carefully dipped the peach in a bowl of cream before setting it gently down on the blonde's tongue, eyes fixated on her throat as she swallowed her decadent treat.
"It'll take care of itself," Henri replied, snapping his fingers. A waiter appeared, kneeling down slightly so that Henri could easily grab the glass of wine on his tray before leaving just as silently as he'd appeared.
"If you say so," Jax murmured, sliding sinuously upright and offering the blonde a heated smile and his hand, the two of them rising in tandem, her following obediently as Jax led her towards the backroom.
He glanced back, however, catching Henri's eyes, eyebrow raising silently as he made it abundantly clear to the other man that he knew Henri was lying.
Henri raised his glass in response, silently challenging the other man to find the answer he was seeking. Jax's small smile signaled his acceptance and he disappeared around the corner with that cultured smugness he didn't wear but absolutely owned.
Henri tossed back a health swig of his wine, barely tasting the rare vintage as he brooded.
Let him find out the truth, he thought darkly, wineglass dangling carelessly from his fingers. Letting the truth be known would be a welcome relief from the years of constantly hiding it.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, sighing once before opening them and glancing down at the letter once more before tossing it down on the table in front of him.
He snapped his fingers and the waiter reappeared.
"Find me a brunette," he ordered tersely, glaring moodily at the letter. "1983."
"Any preference?" The waiter asked tonelessly.
"No," Henri replied, leaning forward, eyes still fixated on the letter. "Just make sure she won't be missed."
The waiter disappeared again and Henri bit his bottom lip before reaching forward and snatching the letter from the table, crumpling it in his fist before rising to his feet and heading for the back room, glass in hand.
"You're a long way from home." Victor tossed his keys onto the table next to the door, shrugging out his jacket without bothering to glance at the intruders.
"Charles has called a Quorum," Lance replied stiffly, his usually lackey's on either side. "You're attendance it required."
"When?" Victor asked, glancing up at his brother for a moment before picking up his mail from that same side table and flipping through it.
"Three days," was the clipped reply.
"Why?" Victor pressed, setting the mail aside when nothing important leapt out at him and heading for the fridge. He wasn't surprised when Lance refused to answer.
"Blood?" He questioned, glancing at his brother once more as he pulled a bag from the fridge.
"No thank you." Lance's tone was stiff – unfriendly and slightly uncomfortable. Victor smiled slightly but there was no smugness there – no attempt at asserting his superiority, just a genuine note a fond amusement.
"You?" He offered the minions, neither of whom so much as twitched.
Impressive, he thought to himself as he reached into his cupboard for a glass, tearing the blood packet open with his teeth before letting it's contents drain into the glass.
"Is that all?" He asked, not glancing up against as he watched the blood flow, his hunger already rising.
"Yes," Lance replied after a moment's hesitation.
It was the hesitation that had Victor glancing up, a small frown forming.
"Is something wrong?" He asked, when Lance did nothing but stare in response.
"No," Lance replied after another moment's pause, expression changing as he came to some sort of decision and turned to walk towards the door, one of his lackey's flowing effortless in front of him to open it before he arrived.
He hesitated before exiting and Victor stared at him again, patiently waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say.
"It's good to see you again, brother," was all he said instead before exiting, the door clicking shut behind him.
"And you," Victor murmured quietly, knowing full well that Lance could hear him despite the distance. "It's good to see you as well."
On the other side of the door, Lance nodded once to himself, fingering the last letter carefully as he headed for the stairs.
One more, he thought silently to himself.
One more letter and their family reunion would be complete.
There was no point.
Marcel sat in the empty space, staring at the sky while the others chattered around him, their excitement an all-too-real odor on the breeze.
He found these humans amusing which was why he spent so much time around them.
Part of why.
His gaze drifted from the sky, finding her with little to no effort.
As usual, she paid him no mind.
Her long dark hair shifted silently in the breeze, her eyes solemn as she stared into the flames, the shadows they cast highlighting her face in stark relief.
The others were the players here – individuals who found this a new and exciting game, who thought the supernatural was a fun place to play – but that girl...
She had been touched by the darkness – maybe his kind, maybe another kind – but she wore that experience in her gaze, in the way she carried herself.
In the way she looked at him with eyes so full of knowing he wanted to laugh.
The breeze shifted, bringing him her scent and a new, more surprising odor that had him blinking in genuine surprise.
"Brother."
He wasn't startled by Lance's sudden appearance but the girl raised her gaze, eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the man behind Marcel.
"Lance," Marcel replied, eyes on the girl as she scowled, gaze dropping to him with real anger snapping in their depths as she rose to her feet, turning her head, her hair tossing with a snap to trail after her as she disappeared into the crowd of people, heading for a different fire and better company.
"Charles has called a Quorum." Lance stated without preamble, a piece of paper drifting down in front of Marcel.
He caught it before the breeze could toss it into the fire, reading it carefully.
"A family reunion," he murmured quietly, eyebrow raising. "How lovely. Should I bring the refreshments?"
His teeth flashed white as he turned to glance at his brother in amusement. Lance smirked back, eyes tight despite the shared thread of amusement.
"Unnecessary," Lance replied. "Charles has everything prepared unless…have your tastes changed at all?"
"No," Marcel replied, eyes drifting back over the people to land on the familiar dark-haired temptress. She sat at another fire, back to him, but he could see her shoulders tensing, straightening as she felt his gaze the same as any physical caress.
"They haven't changed," Marcel murmured, aware that Lance had followed the direction of his gaze with all the interest of the predator. "Not one bit."
"Three days, then," Lance murmured, watching the dark hair sway in the breeze for a moment longer before turning and disappearing as quickly as he'd arrived.
"Looking forward to it," Marcel replied, settling back into his position of watching and waiting with all the patience of a natural born killer.
She lay on her side, facing the wall, unable to move which was a horror in and of itself but coupled with her thoughts…
If her heart was beating – as slowly as it had for centuries – her terror would be suffocating by now. As it was, some leaked through, but with a frozen body, the chemicals failed to spread far.
"Soon, mistress," the cells other occupant promised, her tiny voice pleasing to the ear as she brushed her hands gently through Coraline's hair.
"Soon," she promised again and Coraline felt a single tear drift it's way down her cheek.
She'd never wanted anything more that she wanted that 'soon' to be changed to 'never'.
A/N: Five second review. Pretty please?