Disclaimer: see in the Introduction.
Rating: R, for this part – for explicit f/m interaction and blood play
Author's notes:
Cash has to wait a whole day before he can go and meet his Clan brethren. How will he spend his time in Rose's haven?
No, this is not about him and Rose falling in love at the first sight. I consider this as a sort of Clan bonding and mutual comfort thing… at first. I'm not sure yet if they will continue later or not. Suggestions are welcome, but I can't promise to actually follow them. Still, ideas are always nice – they lead to other ideas, and – at the end – to better stories.
The narrow hall with the similar doors that could open to other rooms as well as to built-in cupboards, actually does exist. I've made first-hand experience with such a thing as I was visiting a Dutch family. Needless to say how often I landed in a cupboard. g
As we are getting beyond the originally planned prelude and to the real story, the chapters, too, will be slightly longer from now an. I hope it doesn't bother anyone.
PART FOURWhen Cash awoke the next afternoon, Eric was already gone. It made him uncomfortable that even another Gangrel was able to stow away from him unnoticed, but there was nothing he could have done about it in the aftermath. So he made as good use of the small washing basin in the guest room as he could, got dressed and decided to take a look around the place.
He found his way into the kitchen rather easily, in spite of the many doors that opened from the long, narrow hall – some to other rooms, some to wardrobes. He noticed that Eric's bike was gone, too, but his own still stood where he had left in the morning.
Rose was sitting in the kitchen, at an old-fashioned sewing machine, and was working on something that looked like children's clothes. The sight might have surprised a human, but for Cash, it was only natural that Kindred would work to earn money, just as other people did. Well, at least the Camarilla types did. And, it seemed, some of the Anarch, too.
The young woman looked up from her work and gave him a shy smile.
"Had a good rest?"
"Too good," Cash admitted. "I haven't even noticed Eric sneaking out on me. This is a first."
"That's not your fault," Rose assured him. "Eric used to be – well, in a sense he still is – a Cherokee shaman. A very strong one, by the way. He could have 'sneaked out on you' unnoticed even if you were awake. He could Dominate a Lasombra bishop into oblivion if he chose to. It's not a Kindred ability… he was born that way."
"Do you know him well?" Cash asked.
"We're not lovers, if that's what you mean," Rose shrugged. "He prefers prettier women, and I… he scares me shitless sometimes. There isn't anyone else with powers like his among our Clan – not even in the Sabbat."
"Do you have another partner, then?" Cash inquired. "Someone less… scary?"
Rose tucked back a long, dark curl of her soft hair behind a small ear and smiled.
"I'm more of the solitary type. Not that I'd have anything against men, just… I haven't met one so far I'd really miss when he goes on his way. What about you? Is there anyone waiting for you in San Francisco?"
Cash shook his head and felt the familiar sadness descend on his heart again.
"Not anymore. There was a girl I loved very much, but she's been forcibly Embraced into Clan Brujah, and no matter how hard we tried, it just didn't work between us after that."
"It's hard to go against ages-old Clan hatred," Rose agreed, "but not impossible, not entirely. Lady Abigail, the Tremere Primogen said on the last Conclave in L.A. that if we let Clan instincts rule our unlives, we wouldn't be much more than bacteria, determined by genetics."
"What do you mean 'last Conclave'?" Cash asked in surprise. "Aren't there any more held in L.A?"
"There haven't been any for at least two years," Rose said. "We never had a Primogen in Cyrus' court, of course, but Madame Zorza has good connections to the Toreador, so we're always well-informed. The last Conclave had been on 24. June 1997, when the Tremere announced they won't obey Cyrus' rule any more and left the whole gathering. After that, Cyrus never summoned the Primogens again."
"What happened to the Tremere?" Cash asked.
Rose shrugged. "Nothing. A few of them fled to Atlanta, where Lady Abigail's Childe is the Clan Primogen, but most of them are still here. They closed the Chantry down and Cyrus doesn't have the power to break it up. Lady Abigail is a two-millennia-old Methuselah and most of her advisors are of Ancient Blood, too. They have their Domain under tight control."
"How come that Cyrus would tolerate an independent Domain inside his own City?" Cash asked, taking advantage of the fact that the young woman was a lot more talkative than Eric; maybe she was more lonely than she'd have liked to admit and enjoyed to have some company.
One thing was sure: she was awfully well-informed for a young Anarch. And that gave Cash to think. To guess that she might be more than just a Clan sister who provided occasional haven for travelling Gangrels.
"He doesn't have that much of a choice," Rose shrugged. "Granted, he pushed himself into office by muscle, not to mention with the help of the Toreador, but he only controls certain parts of L.A."
"I was told there are other Domains here that wouldn't belong to him," Cash trailed off, hoping that the girl would take the bait.
She did. "Several, actually. The Western City is under Ventrue rule; their Primogen, the actual Minister, is a French banker with a lot of influence," she counted down on her fingers. "The Eastern City belongs to the Brujah, but as Eric has probably told you, Don Salvador Garcia, their Minister, doesn't even recognize Cyrus' claim of Princedom. And, as I said, the Tremere control West-Hollywood."
She hadn't actually said that, but Cash thought he'd better not correct her.
"Then there is Sabbat territory, too, with a young, charismatic Lasombra bishop. Who used to be a Black Muslim preacher in his mortal days, so he's not an easy adversary. And several Anarch gangs like 'La Hermandad', the 'Night Crew' or the Jackson gang, have claimed their territory as well."
"You know an awful lot about Clan politics," Cash couldn't resist voicing his astonishment. Rose smiled.
"What do you think why Eric has brought you to me? I'm the contact person between different bloodlines – my job is to provide information."
"Do you have contact to our Anarch brethren as well?" Cash asked. Rose nodded.
"A friend of mine is one of them. We've always been very close, and Bobby still visits me time and again. I help him teach his first Childe our ways."
"Are you Anarch, too?"
"Not technically – it's hard to say what anyone of us really is right now, since our Clan isn't part of the Camarilla anymore. I've considered myself a Camarilla Kindred, though – until recently. Now… I'm just as independent as the rest of us, I guess."
She paused for a moment, watching Cash's face silently.
"I can imagine how much harder it has to be for you," she continued after a short while. "You used to be a Clan Primogen and the chief bodyguard of a very powerful Prince – you have a lot more to lose than the rest of us. What are you going to do?"
"I have no idea," Cash admitted. "If it only would be for me, I'd ignore what happened in Baltimore and stay where I have a home… a purpose… and friendship. But my brethren might have other ideas, and I don't intend to abandon them. If they want to leave, I'll leave, too."
"Even if it breaks your heart," Rose said. It was not a question.
Cash nodded. "Yeah, even then, I'm their chosen leader – I'm responsible for them. To be perfectly honest, there are times when I hear the call of the Wild almost painfully clear in my heart… the call I've ignored probably much too long. Sometimes I really miss the freedom to ride the roads, to run with wolves under a full Moon… to be Gangrel as we are meant to be."
"Still, you'd gladly give all that up for your Prince and friend," Rose said. It wasn't a question, either. ''True loyalty is the gift and the curse of our Clan – you can't change our very nature, Cash. This is what we are, what we've always been. You've lived among strangers far too long."
"Maybe. But it wasn't a bad thing."
"Of course not. Things are seldom good or bad on their own. It depends on what we're doing with them… what we're doing with ourselves, with the paths we choose," she stood and put her arms around Cash's slim waist. "Come with me. You need to reacquintant yourself with the very spirit that makes us Gangrel and to put your mind at rest. I'll give you rest."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
She took him to her own room and they made love until sunset, kissing and whispering in ecstasy, as it was custom among nomadic Gangrel when they met along the road after long times of loneliness. It was a way of bonding and healing for their kind, and indeed, Cash could feel his aching heart and troubled mind come to rest.
"You're wonderful, Rose," he murmured, finger-combing the long, silky hair of the woman whose head rested on his chest. "How could I thank you enough?"
"Don't bother," Rose snuggled closer to him, if such a thing was possible. "I needed it, too. Have been living alone much too long."
"But I won't be able to stay with you," Cash warned. "I…"
Rose smiled against his skin. "I'm not asking you. We're Gangrel – moving is in our Blood. I've accepted that years ago. But it's nice to meet a man like you sometimes. You have so much fire in your heart… so much passion. There aren't many of us, not even in our bloodline, who're both, Gangrel and gypsy. Not in L.A, anyway."
"You're here."
"I'm Mexican. It's different…" Rose hesitated. "It's said, the blood in those of us who were born as mortal children of Ennoia, is burning with a fire unknown by anyone else. Is this true or just a myth?"
"All my former lovers have found my blood intoxicating," Cash replied thoughtfully. "Even the ones from our own Clan. So, there has to be some truth in that legend."
He looked down at the mahogany-curled head, smiling. "You want a taste?"
The girl raised her head and stared at him in surprise. "You'd let me…? But we're not that close…"
"Yet," Cash smiled. "We still can get closer, you know… much closer… if you're ready to share, too."
"Why not?" Rose sat up, tossing the long curls away from the gentle arch of her neck. "At least, something of you will stay with me when you're gone – for a while."
"And part of you will accompany me on my way, at least temporarily," Cash slid into sitting position as well, leaned against the pillow and tilted his head invitingly. "You first."
Rose took a deep, unnecessary breath, her dark eyes burning silver with desire. She leaned closer, kissing the offered neck, and then her delicate canines dropped almost on their own and sank into the big vein.
Cash shuddered with the savage pleasure the Kiss caused every Kindred; he hardly felt any pain, so sharp the young woman's fangs were – they went through his skin like razors. Rose's self-discipline was remarkable. Anybody else Cash had ever shared blood with so far, had to be stopped before crossing the border between tasting and frantic feeding.
Not Rose. She took the precious offer, then she withdrew after a few mouthfuls on her own, eyes falling shut in ecstasy, but controls clamped down tightly.
"Thank you," she murmured almost inaudible, when she was able to speak again. "That was – a most heady experience. Your turn now."
Cash pulled her back to his chest, then he leaned down and sank his fangs into her soft neck. The sweet, rich blood hit his throat like fire. Rose might not have been gypsy, but Latino fire and passion burned hot in her, too. And she was of 8th generation, an Ancilla, meaning that her Vitae was powerful, regardless how much younger she was than Cash himself.
So powerful that Cash needed every ounce of his self-control to withdraw just in time. Just before he'd have begun feeding earnestly.
"Rose," he murmured, licking the small puncture wounds clean to seal them, "you're incredible. I haven't expected to meet a woman with even more fire and passion than… than Sasha had."
"Sasha?" Rose leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "Was she your Brujah lover?"
"Was. Past tense. Won't be again."
"You sure?"
"Very. It's over. Probably better so. It was… too painful. And with this new... situation, it might be better for us, Gangrel, to stick to our own kind anyway."
Rose laughed quietly. "Is that a proposal? 'Cause I'm not ready to get married yet."
"Married?" Cash had to laugh, too. "Since when do Kindred get married? I mean after we've Become?"
"It's rare," Rose admitted, "But not unheard of. Valeria and Carlyle, the leaders of 'La Hermandad', are married, and very happily so."
"Well, they are Brujah," Cash commented. "And Anarch, too."
Rose shrugged. "Salvador Garcia isn't Anarch. He's married to an Italian Countess."
"Must be a Rabble quirk," Cash joked; then he became serious abruptly, took Rose's lovely face in his hands and said. "I'm not proposing, Rose. I'm simply asking you to come back to San Francisco with me."
"You ought to be kidding," Rose smiled. "We've just met."
"Yeah, but I've never met a woman so alike me before. I don't want to leave you so soon," Cash argued. "I want to know you better… to spend time with you…"
"You have no other choice but leave me," Rose said soberly. "I'm glad we've met, too, but I can't leave L.A. This is my home, and I'm needed here. But," she added with a smile, "the few hundred miles between our two cities won't hold a biker from coming over every time and again, will they?"
"No, they won't," Cash agreed. "Would I be welcome if I came?"
"Sure you would," Rose assured him. "And should I find someone permanent… someone else… I'll tell you in time. I'd never lie to you."
She looked at the window, covered with heavy curtains. "It's almost sunset. We should get up. Eric will be here, shortly."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
So they got up, showered – separately, because in spite of all that had happened between them, they still didn't feel close enough to share such intimacy – and got dressed.
Only a few minutes later Eric returned.
"It's all set," he told Cash without any comment, although he must have noticed that they reeked of sex – and of each other. "We can go now."
"Where are we going?" Cash asked.
Eric shrugged. "To the headquarters of 'La Hermandad'. We have been detected. Carlyle wants to see you, and he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Besides, Madame Zorza agreed to meet us there."
"Is she suicidal?" Cash was perplexed. "Coming to the lion's den?"
"My brother," Eric's calm seemed unshakable, "I've already told you, these Brujah aren't Cyrus' henchmen. They're Anarch – and Carlyle himself is a proud and honourable man. If he wages for your safety – and he does – you can trust him."
"Do you trust him?"
"Yes. And so does Madame Zorza."
Cash still wasn't happy with the solution, but seeing that Rose didn't show any sign of distress, he finally gave in. "All right. Lead on."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Now, is Cash going to meet some very different Brujah than the lot he's used to from San Francisco? Or is he walking directly into a trap?
The next chapter will show.