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Blood of Time

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Disclaimer: The usual, I own nothing of value... and both of these intellectual properties are quite valuable as far as I can tell.

Author's Note: I like picking on Ianto, what can I say? You always hurt the ones you love.

This fic is a crossover with Vampire: The Masquerade, but you shouldn't need to know anything about that fandom to follow this fic, as the entire story is from the point of view of a freshly turned vampire who has to learn all this stuff for himself as well.

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Chapter 1: Embraced

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Ianto's world was an eerie blur of pleasure and pain. He had no idea what had happened to him or where he was now. He felt a strange, desperate kind of hunger, and the oddly pleasant bitter taste in his mouth seemed to drive that desire up to a fever pitch.

He shivered as the echoes of sensation faded somewhat, and opened his eyes to a world that seemed alight with an otherworldly glow. It was a clear night, the moon a waning crescent like a knife of blinding light through the sky, every distant faint pinprick of starlight almost seared his eyes. He turned his gaze to the side and saw he was in an unlit alley, but the finest details of every brick on the far wall were clear as crystal to him.

He leaned his head back, eyes closed against the oddly blinding starlight, and whispered to himself, "What the hell?" The sound echoed in his ears, almost as if he had shouted.

He licked his dry lips slowly. That bitter taste, alluring, almost arousing.

He slowly sat up, his mind raced over the possibilities. Drugs? Poison? Unknown alien something? The last thing he remembered was leaving the Hub for a Weevil hunt. Weevils definitely do not do this.

He reached his hand to the commlink in his ear, about to call the rest of the team, but hesitated. He carefully turned down the volume and then tapped the button to activate it, "Gwen? Owen? Tosh?"

"Where'd you run off to?" With the commlink at its lowest setting it still felt like Owen was shouting right in his ear.

With the team, he had learned the hard way that when you didn't know what the hell to do, honesty was really the best policy, therefore, "The last thing I remember, the Weevil alarm had just gone off and we were getting in the SUV. What happened?" he asked rather bluntly.

There was an unpleasant silence over the comms for a moment, and it only served to make him fear the worst. Owen's eventual answer wasn't too far off of his fears, "Something else went for the Weevil, totally shredded it, then went for you. It just grabbed you and ran off. We're still trying to figure out where you even are."

"Isn't Tosh tracking my life signs?" Ianto asked.

"I... can't detect you." she answered somewhat nervously.

Ianto stared at a particularly uninteresting crack in the brickwork across the street as he took in this statement. It made no sense. "I have a GPS chip in my left arm, courtesy of Torchwood One, which reads my life signs. How can you suddenly not be tracking that?"

"It's not signalling." Tosh answered, frowning. "The only way it would stop were if you were hit by a powerful EMP that knocked it offline, if it was removed from your body-" Ianto immediately checked the fine and old scar on his left arm. No, it was still there. "Or if you died."

"The chip is definitely still in my arm." Ianto observed.

"So our alien has an EMP, right?" Gwen concluded.

An eerie kind of fear rose in the back of Ianto's mind, as he suddenly noticed one of those things you don't usually notice until you think about it. His breathing. Or in this case, the fact he wasn't. His hand slowly moved to his chest, and the lack of heartbeat there made him feel sick. "I don't think so, Gwen."

Again that unnerving silence over the comms.

The iridescent light was starting to fade, now. As were the echoes of pleasure that he still felt skipping through his nerves. He had absolutely no idea what had happened to him, but whatever it was had clearly felt good. He very much doubted dying felt good... but then what was going on?

Soon he was in near-total darkness, the now-faint crescent moon and a dim streetlamp on the main road were the only sources of light. Still the strange detail was visible. Almost like the difference between his normal vision and this were comparable to VHS and blu-ray. High definition.

He found himself laughing in spite of the situation.

"What's so funny?" Owen asked rudely. His voice barely a whisper now, so Ianto turned the volume back up to normal on the comms.

But then he didn't answer Owen's question.

Someone else had just entered the alleyway, and she was pointing a gun right at him.

She was dressed entirely in black, a practical pantsuit that appeared to be high-fashion. Her hair was dark brown, elegantly curled with obvious deliberate intent, and she had very pale skin. She was the very definition of beauty from a bygone era. A perfect heroine from a WWII movie, but dressed for the twenty-first century.

As she held her gun trained on him, she frowned and pulled out a cell-phone. When the call connected she spoke with brisk efficiency, in a beautifully lilted Welsh accent, "I have executed the anathema, but it appears he sired a childe. What would you have me do?"

Ianto didn't hear the reply, but her demeanour indicated she accepted it as an order. "As you wish." she answered curtly.

Ianto watched her warily as she approached him, "I'm guessing from the way you used words I don't recognise, and one in particular that I did, that you're either going to try to kill me, or you're going to tell me what's going on?" he asked, trying to maintain a veneer of calm.

Inside, he was in turmoil. The feeling of starvation from earlier was rising up into a roiling hunger. He was almost paralysed by sense of fear at the presence of a being every instinct in his body screamed was a predator - and the prettier they are the more deadly, he thought morbidly. The genuine curiosity and desperation to know what had happened to him warred with an instinctive need to flee or fight her.

He tried not to think about the fact the fight instinct leaned more towards the physical than to the gun in his jacket. That a deep and unsettlingly inhuman part of his mind suggested the very best course of action would be to bite her.

She seemed amused by his question, "Not personally, I shan't." she said with almost malevolent good humour.

She offered him her hand, still training the gun on him with the other. Warily he accepted.

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Ianto was escorted out into the main street, where the woman indicated he should get into the red Porsche parked there. She drove him through the darkened streets far enough that he recognised where he was again by the time she pulled up to an expensive looking office building.

Ianto instantly disliked it. It had too much of a Torchwood One feel about it.

But he allowed her to lead him inside, and into an elevator that took them up to the top floor.

The room he was led into was designed very much like the penthouse apartment of a workaholic, rather than the type of offices he had expected from the exterior. It had a panoramic view of the city around it, and he could just spot the plaza and mermaid quay in the distance among the sights.

There were five people here, aside from himself and the woman who had brought him here.

Two women sat on a couch, in a manner that indicated they had been chatting before he got here, but now they were far more interested in him than their previous conversation. The elder-looking of the two was Asian, with short dark hair and a very austere and unfriendly expression on her face. The younger was blonde and deathly pale, but incredibly pretty in spite of it.

A tall, dark-skinned and very well-build man stood in a corner, looking imposing and a bit uncomfortable with his surroundings. A younger, somewhat unkempt-looking man sat in a comfortable chair across from the women. If the blonde woman looked pale, this man looked positively ashen, and while he had been actively attempting to ignore their conversation, he did still turned his attention to Ianto now the room had fallen silent.

Behind the desk in the middle of the room sat a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had fair hair and striking grey eyes, and an air of indomitable authority about him. When he saw Ianto enter the room he rose from his seat and spoke warmly, "Greetings, childe."

A part of Ianto wanted to take offence. He couldn't be that much younger than this man, could he? Only the knowledge that they might want to kill him, and the fact he'd met and/or heard of a fair few ancient aliens who could pass for younger humans as they pleased, made him hold his tongue.

The man moved around his desk to more directly address Ianto, as he explained, "I am the Prince of this city. You have already met my enforcer, Maria."

Ianto glanced to the woman who added with all due manners for a formal occasion, "Maria Suzanne Morgan."

The tone of the meeting was set as formal, so Ianto went into formal mode almost automatically. Though he was nervous, he still followed the protocol of answering, "My name is Ianto Jones. I'm sorry, I'm not entirely certain what's going on."

"What do you recall of your Embrace?" the Prince asked. When Ianto's expression showed his confusion, the Prince clarified, "What happened to you tonight?"

"My friends and I were called out to the park. I don't know what happened after we left the office, the next thing I remember is waking up in the alleyway where Maria found me." he answered. While the exact words were entirely honest, the lie of omission was there. He would not tell these people about Torchwood if he could possibly avoid it.

Maria shifted, somewhat uneasily. "The anathema did pass through the park, but I didn't see the incident. Only the aftermath. One of the sewer-dwelling creatures our Nosferatu friends often complain about was eviscerated. I cleaned up the mess, but it is possible the childe's mortal friends witnessed the incident."

Sewer dwelling creatures. Well that was probably the Weevil Owen mentioned. But it only left more questions than answers. And he was not the least bit comforted by the use of the word Nosferatu. He'd heard it in movies, he knew what it implied.

He was also suddenly worried that these people might want to harm the rest of the team for witnessing... whatever this anathema was. Ianto knew the dictionary definition of the word, but he didn't know its meaning in this context.

Then again, as he had felt when he first joined Torchwood One, when you stumble into a secret society that knows things, better to play along and learn those things for yourself before doing anything to upset anyone. He would do his best to keep the team out of this if it was likely to endanger them, but for now he would play along.

On the bright side the Prince seemed not to be too bothered by the thought that the rest of the team could have been involved. He seemed far more interested in Ianto himself. "So you remember nothing?"

Ianto shook his head, "Sorry, not a thing."

"Then perhaps you may be of use to us." the Prince said thoughtfully.

Ianto couldn't help but notice the way both Maria and the man in the corner tensed up as if they really wanted to disagree but also wanted to see where this was going. The younger-looking man sitting down glared viciously, but also didn't say anything.

"Your sire broke our laws, murdered and diablorised three elders of our kind, and then he made you." the Prince explained calmly, "I do wonder why, when he was marked for death, he would stop and think to make a childe. He must have known we might find you, but I cannot help the thought he may have passed on to you a message, or some kind of instruction. Memory is a fickle thing, and it may yet come back to you."

Ianto didn't recognise all of those words, but he'd heard enough to start forming a somewhat unsettling conclusion. Nosferatu was a popular word for vampire. The Prince referred to them as their kind, in a way that implied they weren't human. Ianto himself appeared to be clinically dead, yet he was still walking around. And that unsettling kind of hunger was still present in the back of his mind.

"What exactly is your kind?" he asked warily.

The Prince laughed, "Our kind." he said with a gesture that was clearly inclusive of Ianto. "We are the Kindred, though I suppose the word you would understand best is 'vampire'."

Ianto cursed, though he had the decency to only mouth the swear word rather than say it aloud.

The Prince chuckled, "You don't seem surprised."

"I've seen all the movies." Ianto confessed. He probably hadn't seen all of them, but those he hadn't Owen had given him the full play-by-play summary of... whether Ianto wanted to hear it or not. "I already figured out I was dead before Maria found me, and the way you were talking made it a viable possibility. I just hadn't narrowed it down until you said it."

Regardless of the fact it wasn't surprising, he was still upset by it. Had he been alone or in the company of friends, he might have broken down by now. He was, however, surprised that Torchwood had precisely zero history of ever encountering a real not-an-alien-faking-it vampire before.

Or maybe they did, and the vampires were really good at cleaning up their messes. That was a somewhat terrifying thought.

"Then this shouldn't shock you at all." a female voice said from just behind him. The younger-looking of the two women who had been chatting on the couch was now standing there, offering him a bottle that, while it was labelled as a popular brand of light beer clearly contained a thick dark-coloured liquid.

"Yeah, I hadn't processed that part yet." Ianto replied, warily taking the bottle. He glanced at the woman, "Thank you."

"Jeanine." she answered, "Jeanine Fairweather. Yeah, I like the irony."

Ianto tried to smile but it came out as kind of a grimace instead. He could smell what was in the bottle now, and it smelled vile, and he couldn't help but wrinkle his nose in disgust.

"Not to your taste?" the Prince asked with both surprise and amusement.

"It's blood." Ianto said flatly, with obvious revulsion.

"Oh believe me, now you're one of us, that can't be what offends you." Jeanine said brightly, "But some people can be picky. From what I can gather, it's not even a blood type as such, more often the type of person rather than chemical composition." She took the bottle back from him, sniffed it and shrugged, "Smells good to me." She wandered off to a cabinet by the nearest wall, and began rifling through it before producing another bottle with a different brand label on it. "Try this." she suggested, offering the new bottle to him, this time keeping the first one for herself and took a delicate sip of it, blatantly savouring the flavour.

"This is ridiculous." Ianto muttered, but any further line of protest was cut off when he smelled what was in the new bottle he had been handed. He couldn't understand how blood could smell like the most appetising thing in the world, but it did. That hunger he had felt since he woke up leapt now to the front of his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from drinking the entire bottle in one go.

He was left absolutely stunned, and more than a bit offended at his own lack of self-control. It was the best thing he had ever tasted, and he couldn't understand why that thought didn't make him feel sick.

And then he realised that everyone in the room appeared to be amused by this, which only added to his discomfort.

The younger man chuckled, "Looks like he's one of yours, Prince."

The Prince frowned at the young man, but then shrugged, "It would seem so, James."

"So it was a Ventrue who murdered my Sire, then." James said darkly, before turning back to attentively ignoring the rest of the room.

There was a sense of unease permeating the room now.

"Now, James." Jeanine said soothingly, "We shouldn't hold any ill will to an entire clan for the actions of an individual. None of us knew the anathema, he was a rogue element."

"Easy for you to say." the man standing in the corner muttered darkly, "Your clan didn't lose anyone to him."

"While it's nice to see such a sense of clan loyalty among my Primogen, I must agree with Jeanine." the Prince said diplomatically, "It is neither his clan's fault as a whole, nor his childe's fault as an innocent victim of his actions. Placing blame upon anyone but the perpetrator is pointless when we lack the information to prove whether or not he acted alone."

The murmurs of assent were not given grudgingly... except by James, who still looked deeply displeased about the entire situation.

"Excuse me." Ianto asked politely. They were all looking at him now, "But when do I get the guide book with translations for popular local words and phrases?"

Jeanine laughed, and the Prince smiled. The others looked as if they weren't entirely sure whether to be amused or insulted. "Ah yes." the Prince said, amused once more, "I suppose we should explain."

He gestured to Jeanine, who eagerly began to talk, leading Ianto over to sit on the couch as she did so. She even offered him another bottle of that delicious smelling blood, though he didn't drink it yet. "The Prince is the elected ruler of the city, a non-gendered term in spite of mortal historical connotations. The hierarchy isn't the same in every city, but it is in any city with a sense of order and common decency."

"Nice way to word it." James muttered darkly.

Jeanine waved him off and continued, "The Primogen - that's me, James-" James snorted in disgust, "-Brad over there, and Melinda here." she indicated the man in the corner, then the woman she had been speaking to earlier - are elder members of our kind, chosen to advise and assist the Prince in his rule. With the exception of Melinda, we're also leaders of our respective clans."

"Not that we all asked for it." James sniped.

"James' sire was the Gangrel Primogen before... the events of the last few nights." Jeanine explained, "You can understand why he's displeased with the promotion. He adored his sire."

"I'm assuming from the context that 'sire' means the vampire who turned you?" Ianto asked.

Jeanine nodded, "That's right, though we use the term 'Embrace' to describe the event. More affectionate that way." Ianto snorted, and Jeanine laughed lightly, patting his shoulder, "Don't worry, you'll get over it. Anyway, I am Toreador clan leader. Maria over there is my childe, and Sherriff of the city - that's the Prince's chief enforcer. Brad is Brujah clan's leader, and Melinda here is a member of Ventrue clan, just like you and the Prince."

"How can you tell what clan I'm part of?" Ianto asked warily.

"If you were Sabbat you'd be able to tell because you'd be dead." Brad announced darkly. Ianto did see the warning look the Prince shot Brad for that, but Brad didn't seem to notice.

"The Sabbat aren't even a clan." Jeanine explained, "They're a faction made up of two main clans and a bunch of traitors. We are the Camarilla. We try to maintain order, while the Sabbat seek to incite chaos."

Ianto nodded slowly. This was logical enough, though a bit worrying. It was a lot of information to take in, and all of this had been going on for who knew how long, in the middle of the city, without Torchwood being any the wiser.

"All clans have their own strengths and weaknesses, some better known than others." Jeanine explained, "Everyone knows, for example, that Nosferatu are hideously deformed, and Malkavians are completely insane. It's less common knowledge that Ventrue are picky eaters, though everyone in this room was already aware of it. We like to guard our weaknesses, so if I were you I wouldn't go around telling everyone." she said with a grin and a wink.

"Not a problem, I'm sure." Ianto muttered darkly.

"The Camarilla have strict laws to protect our society, especially from the prying eyes of mortals." Jeanine continued, "The basic tenets are, first never reveal what you really are to mortals. Second, territory is generally assigned by the Prince, and in your own territory you are absolute ruler, likewise you must show due deference to any vampire whose territory you may pass through... while that usually consists of not pissing them off and you're cool, it can vary. Third, you are not allowed to sire a new childe without the Prince's express permission, doing so is enough to warrant execution, usually for both of you but this seems to be your lucky night."

Ianto winced at that thought, and tried to hide his discomfort behind taking sips from the bottle he had been given - and oh how he tried to ignore the fact it was blood. It really didn't taste bad at all.

"Fourth, if you're ever given permission to sire another, they are entirely your responsibility, their screw-ups are your screw-ups, and you are personally accountable. Fifth, if you ever visit another city you have to present yourself to the Prince there, otherwise you might be deemed a threat... though they're just as likely to ignore you and treat you like vermin. And finally, it is absolutely forbidden to kill another of our kind without the express permission of the Prince. Those who break any of these laws are considered anathema. That's what we were referring to your sire as. Basically, it's our fancy word for criminal, and it means they've been sentenced to death. Think that about covers it."

She glanced up to the Prince for clarification, and he nodded in agreement. "That is the gist of it, yes. My sire's explanation of it was somewhat more pompous, but times do change."

Ianto smiled faintly at that, while he heard Jeanine giggle.

After he had finished his drink - and he was still trying so hard to ignore the fact it was quite obviously blood - he looked up to the Prince warily, "So the bit about territory?"

The Prince chuckled, clearly amused by his youthful innocence in these matters. The air of condescension was quite irritating, but Ianto tolerated it out of fear. "Where would you like?"

"I really like the area around Roald Dahl Plass, and Mermaid Quay." he said immediately, "Though if I'm a, ah, picky eater, I'm not sure how that would influence my ability to, well... not starve."

Both Jeanine and Melinda were giggling now. It really was quite humiliating, but again he tolerated it, and maintained his carefully cultivated mask of indifference from his early days in Torchwood Three.

"In a worst case scenario, we can either change your territory or give you some leeway, once you get your bearings. For now you may consider that area open to you, though I know of a few others who like it as well."

"Malcolm does have a taste for tourists." Melinda put in with amusement.

"There is a bar not far from there, run by one of Jeanine's childer. They serve quite excellent drinks, I'm sure Maria can give you directions once she has dropped you off for the morning."

"We had best hurry, then." Maria announced, "I would like to be home before sunrise after this errand."

"Of course." the Prince said with a nod, "I believe this meeting is adjourned, you may all take your leave as you wish."

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"So, the sunlight thing?" Ianto asked warily, as Maria drove him down to the plaza.

She laughed, "Yes, you definitely want to avoid daylight. Even being in a room with heavy curtains on a cloudy day can be painful, as the small cracks of light around the curtains still hurt."

Ianto bit his lip nervously, but then nodded, "Okay, I can handle that."

"You seem uncertain."

"Explaining it to my friends may be a problem."

"Lose them." she said bluntly, "Mortal friends are a hindrance in the long run. You'll do best to cut ties early." Her tone seemed to add 'I learned that the hard way', but Ianto didn't want to press the subject, so instead he simply nodded without explaining.

The journey continued in silence, until they reached their destination. When Ianto stepped out of the car, Maria gave him the directions to the bar the Prince had mentioned. Ianto actually knew the place, though only to walk past every morning when it was closed.

With a sigh, Ianto turned and headed for the water tower and the hidden lift down to the Hub. He sat down on the paving stone just to the right of the invisible lift and watched as Maria drove away into the night.

Well, early morning. It wasn't sunrise yet, but it was getting close. Maybe an hour or so left at a rough guess.

When he was sure he wasn't being watched, he tapped his commlink, "Hey, guys. Sorry I cut communications earlier. I just figured out what happened to me."

"Ianto!" Tosh cried in relief, "We've been looking for you all night, where are you?"

"Back at the Hub, just outside by the lift." he answered distantly.

Within ten seconds, he heard the faint but distinct whir of the lift moving, and smiled weakly. How was he going to explain this to them?

Before he could even begin to form a plan in his mind, Tosh was hugging him. He saw Owen and Gwen had also come up on the lift. As Tosh let Ianto go, he yawned, "Sorry, I'm kind of tired. Can we go inside, please?"

"I think we need to do a scan to make sure he's not some kind of clone." Owen said darkly.

"I'll explain everything inside." Ianto said flatly, scowling up at Owen, "I'd really rather not stay up until dawn... and it is getting kind of close."

"So first you make a vague remark that insinuates you may be dead, now you're trying to avoid a sunrise?" Owen asked, arching an eyebrow.

"For being a sarcastic wanker, you're very perceptive, Owen." Ianto said sharply, standing up, "Inside please?"

Gwen and Tosh were both frowning as well, now. They had clearly picked up on Owen's insinuation. Reluctantly, the three of them conceded, and they descended into the Hub together.

Once they reached the main floor of the Hub, the team watched with apprehension as Ianto walked over to the couch and sat down. He felt somewhere between way-too-calm, and about to lose it, and he really wasn't sure which way it would go. Gwen and Tosh both stayed back as Owen went into interrogation mode, "So... you're a vampire, right?"

Ianto's lip twitched slightly in a morbid attempt at a smile. "And they'd kill me if I told you that."

"They?" Tosh questioned.

"Oh, it's a whole underground society." Ianto laughed, more pained than anything else, "That's where I've been since I cut off the comms. Having the whole deal explained to me by the lead vampire of the city."

"So, if we kill the lead vampire..." Owen suggested.

"I really don't think it works that way." Ianto said with a sigh, "If it did, wouldn't killing the vampire who personally turned me have undone whatever 'curse' it is, at least on me?"

"Curses are words for things we can't throw enough science at yet." Owen said dismissively, "Speaking of... medbay?" he added, with a cheerful gesture in the appropriate direction.

Ianto sighed, "I was dreading that suggestion." He stood up to follow Owen when a sudden and intense wave of exhaustion swept over him, and it took all his strength to stay standing. "Whoa, what the-?"

Owen caught him to stabilise him, while Tosh checked her watch. "It's sunrise. I mean, like, exactly." she briefly flashed her high-tech watch with a little sun symbol on it at him, before continuing, "Maybe that... had some effect, even though you're not outside?"

Ianto shrugged weakly, "Maybe. It felt like... you know when you're really tired and can barely keep your eyes open, except it was so sudden I swear I almost passed out."

Tosh nodded thoughtfully, as if this only confirmed her suggestion.

"Medbay, now." Owen commanded, "If you do pass out at least you'll be somewhere comfortable...ish. And we can use the lift without killing you."

With another sigh, this one was much from exhaustion as exasperation, Ianto followed. He had just laid down on the medbay 'bed', when his eyes flickered closed and he fell asleep.

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