Disclaimer: I don't own any part of White Wolf, World of Darkness, Mage: The Ascension or Vampire: the Masquerade. Any and all ideas that belong to them are herein noted as such, and I gain no profit from this story. The characters are the only things that belong to me.

The door crashed open, banging into the wall, and a flashlight burned at my eyes. I think I cried out; I don't quite remember, for my mind was sluggish after the eternity it had spent in the Umbra, seeking respite and hoping for rescue. But rescue does not come easily for one such as I: I who was a fighter for the cause of humanity, I who am a servant, however unwillingly, of that which preys upon the living.

Of that which came upon me now.

"What is this?" echoed a strong voice in the empty cell. My heart skipped a beat. It was a new voice, one I had never heard in all my years of torment.

I felt a cold hand lift my chin, and a head-shaped shadow blocked the light from my eyes. Blood – I could hear the blood pounding in his veins, and I lusted for it, struggled against my chains to reach him. A new voice murmured, "She's a ghoul; most likely Damiana's. The traitor's stench comes from the blood."

All I could think of was his blood, his vampire's blood, the one thing that would continue my existence and deliver me from the pain and darkness. It consumed all sane thought, until I forgot that the last thing I wanted was to be bound to a vampire, that I wanted to be free and human again.

"What shall we do with her, Father?" asked the first voice.

The second voice didn't answer for a while. Then he said, "We shall take her to Calais."

My struggles were weak; I was near death. My lips moved with unheard words, my body pleading for mercy. Then the darkness around me deepened and the light faded as I fell unconscious.

I must admit that I never expected to awaken again. The darkness was so deep that it seemed to swallow me whole, and I fell into its slumber. Yet the slumber faded, and the darkness with it, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a world so like that of my adolescence, that I almost believed my captivity as a vampire's ghoul to be an infernally long and ghastly dream.

The room was large and round, and from the chill, it was high in a tower. The stone floor was covered with thick rugs. The walls were lined with bookcases except for two narrow doors, with a large four-poster bed just off-center and a generous desk at its feet. Not only were the bookcases lined with books, but scrolls and potions and potion ingredients occupied many of them. It was almost like I was back in Canada with the Dreamspeakers, learning the ins and outs of my mage abilities.

I crawled out of the bed slowly, testing my strength. Some kind or perverted soul had removed my rags while I was sleeping and replaced them with a warm fleece nightgown. I looked among the books for one of my favorites, and then reality kicked in: these were books on blood-magic, Tremere magic, which no mage-in-training would have in his possession. A shudder ran through my body. So I really was the thrall of a vampire, and for some reason I was still alive, despite my rebellion ...

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect you to wake up until tomorrow night, at least."

It was the same voice that had identified me as Damiana's ghoul. I blinked, then turned to face him. He was standing in the doorway, dressed in richly colored robes, with curly auburn hair reaching to his shoulders and hazel eyes. His face and bearing were warm and inviting, and for a moment he seemed mortal.

My response was cold and wary. "What do you want from me?"

He raised a brow. "Is there something I should want from you?"

I shrugged. "My life, perhaps? I was quite a monster for Damiana; most Kindred condemn such ghouls to death. So I heard."

"Yet she kept you," he pointed out.

"For her games and pleasure," I dismissed his curiosity.

"She never kept her 'toys' as long as she kept you. Most never survived the experience." Then he waved his hand, and sat at the desk. "But I won't convince you today. Enough about Damiana."

"You never answered my question."

He nodded. "True." He stared at me for a long time then, and I managed to meet his gaze for most of it. Then he said, "I want you to stay here. It's been centuries since a mage would speak with me without reaching for a stake first, and I have sorely missed that. I was a mage once, like you, before I became this. Also like you, I became what I am against my will, and I seek to repay humanity for the losses it serves at my hands."

"I refuse to be Embraced. You would have to bind me to you, if I were to stay and survive," I reminded him sourly. "And I don't like being chained."

He smiled faintly. "All I would require of you is that you keep me company, offer me advice at times, do things that must be done during the day – the usual, without Damiana's eccentricities."

What the hell was he getting at? No vampire wanted simple companionship! And why me? I was a discarded toy, broken and bitter and vengeful. "What if you want me to do something I'm not comfortable with?"

"Then say no, and we'll figure it out."

It was too easy. There was a catch somewhere, there had to be. I regarded him with narrowed eyes and said nothing.

After a long time, he stood and made a little bow. "I will leave you to your thoughts, though don't tarry too long. The Sabbat and the Camarilla both want you for the information you have on Damiana's research, and if the Council of Seven is going to help me keep you from them, I need your answer as soon as possible. If you have need of me, don't hesitate to call my name. It's Amadé."

With that, he turned and left me with the largest paradox I'd ever encountered in my life.

Please R this is my first fanfic, so I'd appreciate honest feedback. Thanks!! Kaldrith