Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

Chapter Six

Witching hour.

The night was clear, air so crisp and cold that a deep breath could tinge the lungs with a bite of frost. In the sky, the moon was a melancholy glow, accompanied by the occasional wink of a distant star. Granite speared up from the ground, an occasional cross cast into the identifying markers, a harbinger for these final resting places. Six Warriors, their booted heels crunching into the stiff pristine unmarred snow as they stalked across the land. Six dressed in all black and could at the slightest moment fade into the shadows.

"I hate graveyards."

Jason smirked inwardly at his kindreden's growling complaint but his expression maintained its solemn severity. Law's observation was more than his personal complaint against the dead. Gilchrist had found Law in a graveyard more than five hundred years ago but the night had been balmy and warm. Law kneeled in the dirt over a freshly covered grave, his countenance stricken with grief as he gestured around him at his loss. His family lost at the hands of death, he was a solider without an army. A warrior without a general, a man alone.

The soft rustle of leather told him that Law was adjusting some weapon he carried and the grunt of approval meant he was satisfied with whatever he had found. Law was born in Granada of southern Iberia. He had fought against the armies of Spain, found himself one of few who survived only to return home and find the devastation of war had taken everything he loved from him. When Gilchrist offered him the Mist, he had accepted graciously. The service of an honorable House was all he ever allowed himself.

Jason had seen him with women, but never the same twice. The only people Law let close were the House of Gilchrist. And Law was never without a weapon. Never.

"Then we should certainly hurry this tribunal along," Duncan snorted. "We wouldn't want to offend Law's delicate sensibilities."

The sarcasm was welcome and Jason knew Law wouldn't take offense. Duncan walked into the Mist eight hundred years ago, a kind Scottish Laird who had lost his wife and son to illness and was born a vampire capable of striking terror in the hearts of any who dared face him. Probably had something to do with that Berserker blood running through his veins. These days, instead of painting his face with blue paint before going into battle, Duncan had tattooed most of his chest with the history of the Gilchrist House and the Maitland clan.

They were capable of adjusting their body temperatures, which accounted for Duncan's leather breeches, boots and long leather duster open to the breeze to reveal his chest. Despite the centuries, the only thing that had changed about Duncan's hunting gear was the length of his coat.

In the beginning, he didn't wear one. He hadn't cared about human notice.

In his pale grey eyes was the same focus present in them all.

"We all know this is a waste of time," Justyce muttered at his side.

She too was dressed to hunt, all sleek black leather, a sword strapped to her back and a pair of 9mm's. She preferred the sword, but as they all knew, a bullet could slow down an adversary and provide an opening. Especially one tipped with atropine, it was a weakness for their kind that hindered the healing process. "The Alcazar Scion will never agree to the terms. They're Aristocrats. To coin a human phrase, they think their 'shit don't stink'."

A glimmer of a smile quirked Gilchrist's mouth. "Such disrespect Justyce," he reprimanded mildly. "We must follow the traditions of our people, even if the Alcazars have forgotten the face of their Sire. Our Laws clearly demand a tribunal on holy ground to give the offenders the opportunity to correct their actions. In this case, the kindreden must return to Buenos Aires or face death."

"Death would be preferable," Law answered. "I've seen what they've been up to here in this little city. The drugs they have brought in, the innocents who have been killed."

Jason was forcibly reminded of the woman he rescued. The image of her struggling against three of Alcazar's Scion touched his mind's eye briefly, causing a deep snarl to rumble in his chest. Justyce tipped her head in his direction, her soft brown eyes meeting his with question but she said nothing.

"It is not our place to interfere in the lives of Humans unless it poses a direct threat to our people," Gilchrist reminded them, and he felt the quiet strength of that rebuke. His Sire had not been happy about his actions but did not reprimand him for not following orders. Instead, he had quietly admitted that he would have found it difficult to walk away himself. It was a complication, that might have consequences, but it was understandable.

"Luis and Lorenzo are walking a dangerous line. If Armando cares not for the dishonoring of his House, that is not our place to judge. The kindreden however are too close to exposure." Gilchrist's voice was hard with the power and threat that made him the most feared of their kind. The Alcazars would find no pity here tonight. If this tribunal were simply a technicality, the moment they left Holy Ground, blood would be spilled. "A mob war with humans is intolerable and a direct infraction against our laws. One of many crimes these kindreden have committed. They will see reason, or they will return to the Mist."

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"its cold, it's wet and I had plans. So why are we wasting out time out here tonight with a bunch of antiquated nobodies stuck in the past, when me and Sage could be out hunting down that 69 Camerro that one of our clients wanted."

Lorenzo Alcazar looked over at his hot-tempered Scion and took a deep calming breath. If he didn't know better he would swear that Diego was Luis' progeny not his. There were days when he felt he had done his Scion a disservice by not instilling him with the knowledge and traditions of their people as Armando had done for him and his twin. Not merely his Scion but his Heres, Diego was too entrenched in the modern to truly understand what the passage of time meant to their kind.

The cars that he enjoyed stealing, the money and power, this organization, it was all temporary. A mere glimmer in the reality of their existence. Blink and it would be century later and all of this, territory, product, all of it would be unimportant. Yet he couldn't expect a fledgling to understand that. A mere one hundred and twenty nine years old, Lorenzo shook his head ruefully. So much still to learn. Perhaps when this was all settled, he would teach his Heres.

"If this were Corinthos, Uncle Lo wouldn't even bother," Sage pointed out as she tightened the white mink around her neck. Also, a fledgling at one hundred years, Sage enjoyed the trappings of money and power almost as much as Luis did. She was a perfect female counter to her Sire, and Luis doted on her. "I don't see what's so special about them anyway. We should just kill them and get it over with."

"And why could we only bring six people," Diego pointed out, "And why are we here in the fucking cemetery in the snow?"

The two guards looked like they wanted to agree but show a flicker of intelligence and kept their mouths shut. "Yeah, Lorenzo, why don't you explain why we're out here instead of out having fun," Luis chuckled, and waved off the responsibility to him.

Asshole.

"The tribunal is a long custom of our people," he began and though he wasn't looking at their faces, he could sense Luis, Diego and Sage rolling their eyes. "A Tribunal is initially held among the Elder Houses who are responsible for protecting the rights and interests of our people."

"They're cops," Diego snorted.

"Not exactly," Lorenzo corrected, "It consists of the three Houses of Aristocracy, the House of Magicks and of Healing and the House of Warriors."

"So these old farts sit around telling all of us what we can and cannot do," Diego huffed, "And we regular vamps have to obey or what, they come and kill us?"

"Exactly," Luis answered before Lorenzo could clarify.

"That is a simplistic way of looking at it," Lorenzo glared at his brother. "Our Laws are few, and most revolve around keeping our existence a secret from the humans."

"Because we all know what would happen if they found out vampires really did exist," Sage laughed, "I've seen those episodes of X-Files. Muffy the Vampire Layer."

"So what," Diego shot back, "I'm not worried about the cows, or about this stupid tribunal. Let them try something."

"There is a reason why the House of Gilchrist are Warriors," Luis spoke again, but this time his voice held a tinge of respect, "They are not to be underestimated Diego and they are the Enforcers of our kind for a reason." Luis might be carefree and just a little foolish but stupid he wasn't. His kindreden still wasn't completely on board with his plans to take out the six Elder Houses. "Tonight we meet to decide if we concede to the Tribunal's demands or face termination."

Sage at least had the grace to look afraid. Diego on the other hand looked like he was ready for a fight. Lorenzo resisted the urge to slap the fledgling in the back of the head. Save him from the stupidity of youth. "We will most likely be told to return to Buenos Aires and stop our activities."

"They don't have the right," Diego began but Luis held up a halting finger.

"Actually they do," he pointed out. "This isn't a game Diego. You and Sage must look out for each other. And from tonight forward, you are not to go out alone. Together at all times and accompanied by two guards do you understand me." It was the first dominant roll Luis had ever taken. It was disquieting to hear his voice coming from his twin.

Diego looked like he wanted to argue but Sage immediately agreed, "Yes Papa. We understand."

By the time they reached the clearing where the six from the House of Gilchrist awaited, Lorenzo was more than ready for this confrontation to begin. He felt Luis stiffen beside him then murmur, "The two Morgans have been Reawakened. Why didn't you tell me?"

Until this evening, it had been only a rumor. One of his moles that remained at the compound in Buenos Aires finally contacted him to confirm that Armando had indeed been to Spain for the Reawakening. Jason and Justyce Morgan's prowess was renowned through the clans. Gilchrist was feared and with good reason and the Morgans were following his footsteps. Though Gilchrist had taken a mate and had a babe, Jason was his Heres, the rest of the Morgans and extension of the Gilchrist familie. Luis was correct, the House of Gilchrist was powerful but none were without weakness.

"It is a small set back."

"Set back my ass," Luis growled, his words quiet but held an undertone of cold contempt. "Six Warriors Lorenzo. All six. This is insanity."

"Quiet!" His curt voice lashed out and he could sense Diego and Sage's alarm.

"This is not worth," Luis began but stopped when their eyes met. Lorenzo felt him bristle with rage but he said nothing more. For centuries, their roles were clearly defined. Lorenzo led them, made the important decisions. Now was not the time for that to change. "I hope you don't come to regret this kindreden."

Jason looked at the Alcazars, wondering what the vampires could have been thinking. Two guards and two fledglings at a Tribunal. It was an insult. Almost as bad as ignoring the customary greetings. These Scion were facing the Head of a House and didn't offer the respect that Gilchrist had more than earned. The insolent male fledgling stood at Lorenzo Alcazar's side, his arms folded belligerently across his chest. The flare of anger in his eyes revealed his contempt for these proceedings.

Jason wondered if he believed those two Glocks under his wool coat were adequate protection against any one Warrior. Bailey could exterminate this fledgling without even exerting herself. His systir was left behind with Keeley and Sasha to maintain her cover to infiltrate the two younger Alcazar's dealings and though she understood, he could see her impatience.

There was something more going on here. He could sense it. Lorenzo was too arrogant, too placating. Luis seemed fidgety, nervous and unless Jason was mistaken angry with his twin.

"I think we all know why we're here tonight," Gilchrist began, and though his expression was free from emotion his whole demeanor was growing in severity. His kindreden were responding in kind and Justyce ran an occasional finger over the handle of her katana. No one would break the sanctity of Sacred Ground but the instant they left was a different story.

"You bring judgment from the Elders," Lorenzo nodded in agreement.

"It has been determined that your activities are a threat to our people. You are ordered to return to your Sire and desist immediately."

The Alcazar's reactions were very telling. The fledglings were alternately afraid and livid. The guards were worried. But it was the kindreden who were interesting. It wasn't like this was unexpected. The House of Gilchrist was only called for two reasons. "And if we don't. Desist immediately and return?" Lorenzo questioned.

"Then we, the Warriors of the House of Gilchrist, will carry out a death sentence for Luis and Lorenzo Alcazar and all of your Scion."

The young girl gasped at the blunt pronouncement, then stiffened, momentarily abashed by her reaction. The fledglings probably had no idea what their Sire's had drawn them into. If she left and went to Armando, she might be able to escape judgment, but it was unlikely that she would be accepted back into the Alcazar House after betraying and abandoning her Sire. It seemed the twins were united and their Scion would be swept into the Mist with them.

"Is that what the Tribunal wants? Don't' we risk more exposure drawing humans into our matters with Death sentences and Warriors. Aren't there better ways of dealing with this," Lorenzo offered. "You must know that we won't surrender everything we have fought for and slink back to our Sire like fledglings."

"It matters not what you will surrender," Gilchrist explained. "If you have not returned to the Alcazar holdings by midnight tomorrow, we will dismantle everything you have and in two weeks you will return to the Mist. It is your choice. And that will conclude this Tribunal." Gilchrist turned and began walking away, accompanied by the others but the youngling seemed to have reached the limit of his patience.

"We're not going to back down because of some stupid order," he shouted moving forward aggressively, but Lorenzo placed an arm on his chest to hold him back. "You think we're afraid of you? You'll be wishing you never came to Port Charles. The House of Alcazar doesn't back down because of some threats made by an old man trapped in the past."

Justyce giggled, light and feminine it rang out in the night. Together they paused and turned to look back in time to see Diego push past Lorenzo and draw his gun. "You think I'm funny, puta?"

The rules of Holy Ground were simple. No weapons could ever be drawn. Justyce flicked a glance at him and Jason nodded slightly. Lorenzo looked horrified at his Scion's actions, but before Luis could grab the back of Diego's coat and restrain him, Justyce was there. Faster than a mere fledgling's eye could ever trace. Diego floundered miserably, looking to his Sire for support and finding none. They were not so corrupt as to defy rules that would benefit them as well. It was a shame they had not taught this fledgling the same. Justyce pressed tight against the barrel of the Sig-Sauer her expression as cold as the night.

"It's a shame really," she whispered pityingly, leaning forward so they were nose to nose. "The Alcazar House was always so honorable. Armando must be humiliated at this disgrace. You think you have nothing to fear from a death sentence?" She spared both Alcazars a cold looks, then shimmered into Mist and reformed at Jason's side. As one, they began walking to rejoin the others but Justyce gave them final parting words over her shoulder.

"Ask your Sire about the Vladimirs fledgling, then be afraid. Be very afraid."

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He shouldn't be here.

Watching her. She looked so beautiful laying across her bed. Her dark hair was a silken mass on the pillow beneath her. Exquisite. Innocent. Cocooned in a blanket of warmth. Ignorant of their kind. Safe.

He should be patrolling the land as his Sire had entrusted him. Tonight's Tribunal was merely the beginning. Death would come soon. The Alcazars would not wait patiently for their sentence. What the Warriors of Gilchrist would rend upon the kindreden would make their petty mob war look like a Solstice Festival.

He should not be standing here on her fire escape wondering if her skin was as soft as he remembered. The memory of her scent had beckoned him here and he had deceived himself by thinking he was merely checking on her. Reassuring himself of her safety. Now that he was here, he knew the truth. He had needed to see her. Needed her.

The room was dark but for a television flickering shadows on the walls. "Samantha." She shifted on the bed, disturbed from her peaceful slumber by the mental nudge he sent forth.

This should not be happening, but he was vulnerable and at his weakest. At the mercy of the inner beast that hungered for her. He had yet to feed and all he could remember was the seductive spice of her skin on his tongue as he had healed her. The racing flutter of her heartbeat echoed in his ears. Blood calling to him, demanding he drink and drink deep. Fangs elongated in his mouth, the Knowing burning in his eyes, a shudder of arousal quaking through his body. "Samantha."

His heart lurched once as she sat up, her luminous eyes glazed and uncertain as to exactly what had awakened her. Pushing the covers off, she padded barefoot across the room to the window where he stood. She pushed back the curtain to gaze out, a delicate hand pushing a thick band of hair behind her ear. Unseeing. Vulnerable.

All he had to do was push a bit harder and she would open the window.

Push a bit harder and he could have her in his embrace. Her blood coursing through him, her body shuddering beneath him.

Before he did something he would regret, Jason shimmered into Mist.