7. The Blood of the Lambs

Caius and Raze –

Harsh, austere walls enclosed a smothered Caius into a room not unlike Lucien's interrogation room. There was an array of test tubes, beakers and syringes that lay strew across sterilized tables. Every single one of them was filled with blood. Despite any mention from the back of Caius' throat, he refused their glistening, ruby temptation. Instead, he sat, stranded in a reality where time didn't pass; it lay, waiting, still as the marble emulating Caius' skin.

No air passed through his lungs, nor did it seem to move at all. Caius himself did nothing to break out of the immobile reality he was in. He actually preferred it. It made it easier to manage the engulfing burn in his throat.

So he sat, never once moving, never once even blinking. A fine layer of dust would have already settled upon his stone brow if not for the fact that the room he was currently situated in was completely and utterly sterilized. But within his body, it was bustling with activity.

Inside, he was on fire. His thoughts were racing, electricity was coursing through his sealed veins, and the never-fading hunger ate at his self control. But merely existing was becoming easier and easier for his calcifying form. Every moment he spent not moving, the farther from life he became. It took less and less for him to subdue his passionate rages, now they only happened after the liquid rubies dripped down his unquenchable throat and enriched his body.

But now, even though he hadn't felt the precious blood run down his throat in nearly a week, he was on the verge of a complete outburst. His horrible mood was affecting everything around him. The air itself felt stressed. It felt as though it was being squeezed, forced to hold its position. But Caius himself didn't feel a damn thing. He'd given up his senses to live in complete solitude, a life he felt compelled to live.

Friends, he thought, were for the weak. He was strong; the strongest, almost.

He was freed from his dismal thoughts when the door to his prison was dared to be opened by another vampire (Caius only considered his form of vampire to be legitimate, the Death Dealers were merely a starting ground for evolution. Like primates to humans). If it had been any one else, Caius would have ripped their head off so fast, the air around him might crack. But it was Aro, his most trusted companion; his brother. Caius was fond of Aro enough to not enact upon his instincts that held immediate, violent retaliation in such a high standard.

Aro himself realized that every little infarction he might make could be his last, but he also knew that Caius hated timidity and that if he was to be so bold, he was going to be audacious in his ways. He drew in unneeded breath as he inquired to his liege; to his master.

"Milord, how are things coming?" His voice did not waver, but there was always a warning light flashing in his mind whenever Caius was involved with…anything.

"Slowly…so, slowly…" Caius' own voice did not end, but trailed on forever; so much like his own existence. It sounded vacant and tragic; it sounded eternal.

Aro knew nothing of what his master was working on so diligently, but he knew better than to directly inquire.

"Milord, it has been long since you have last fed. What, I pray, is keeping you?"

The warning light within Aro's mind was blaring harsher than the hunger forever scratching his throat. But despite Caius' less-than-happy demeanor and his even worse mood, he treated Aro to a morsel of information regarding his latest project. He thought of it as giving a favored pet a treat after doing a trick.

"Oh, I am finally studying the reactions between the immortal blood-lines." He said, his voice taking on a smile; even though his face was hardly able to reveal any emotion he might feel now. Caius waited for Aro to bite.

Come on, come on… He coaxed in his mind.

Aro bit.

"With all due respect, Milord, haven't we already studied that?" He questioned.

But that was all Caius was willing to give him.

"Yes, but there are always mutations in the virus. Any day there might be such a mutation as my own. And it is our job to make sure they aren't a threat to Volteara." He stated, rehearsed as usual. Caius knew Aro wouldn't prod any further. For all the outward gestures and the "peace, brothers", Aro was only a figure-head to be seen by the rest of the world. Caius was the one who really called the shots.

"Well done, we should always be prepared for such an occurrence. But, how are you?" Aro tried to not sound like a master's favorite puppy; eager to please. But he failed miserably.

Caius, however, was more than willing to vent to Aro; only because if he didn't spew some of the venom pooling in his mouth, it might actually melt away part of his frozen face. All the brooding he did over the centuries made it very easy for his moods to change in the blink of an eye. He went from the amused master, to a sulking excuse for a leader amongst his people before Aro's fearful eyes.

"I do not understand this existence. Humans have it so easy. They find a "purpose", enact upon it, then die; they have it so easy. But I, I have to live year after god-damned year on this…disgusting piece of rock that I can carve with my bare hands. Having that power is wonderful, but it is not enough. It is never enough. And all this time I spend, sitting, waiting, I grow stronger and stronger…and weaker."

Caius paced back and forth through the room, effectively forgetting Aro was even there. Slowly, Caius was basically digging himself into another wallowing hole of self-pity.

"Don't think I can't feel the changes, the white hair was just a beginning. Every minute I sit completely still I can feel my skin mold together; my eyes film over, but my mind; that has never faded with time. No, that has stayed with me through all these centuries, in fact, I dare say, it has strengthened. I feel all the hours, all the days pile unto my wisdom as I wait for even greater epiphanies to come over me.

"And yet, I am tortured along with this great knowledge. First by the thirst, and second, by the boredom. While I might wait for these great thoughts, waiting is not a pastime worth extol. Everything seems quaint and mundane as I sit upon that throne." He waved dismissively in the direction of his throne room.

"When I am upon that piece of rock called a throne, I do not feel what I should be. I feel as though I am the god's greatest joke. To be born by fire into a life of ice. Then to have the fire taunt me, both in the form of pain and pleasure, for is nothing greater than having blood running down your throat? And is nothing worse then hunger? Then be subjected to a life…no, an existence, for that is all this is, encased in ice."

Aro stood there, still as his master's castle, letting Caius take his wrath out in the forms of words; for there was another way he could, one he enjoyed far more.

"I have walked this earth, carrying my sufferings with me. I must be the laughing stock of the gods, all of them staring down upon me. A hero, trapped in the mortal realm. They shall see, when this is over I shall be more powerful than all of them combined." His rant ended on a final, certain note. There was no doubt in his mind that he would somehow become "all powerful". It didn't scare Aro though; he would always be seated at Caius' right hand. Markus was only a spy into the Coven. As soon as the war was over (even though it still needed to begin) he would be struck down like those before him.

The fire burned like a white poker down Caius' throat and in his eyes. Aro smiled internally; he would not fear Caius' infamous wrath for a very long time. But his rants were becoming more and more pointed. They were all about the power he didn't have.

Is this what you are working on so diligently? Aro questioned; never aloud though, he had already pushed it too far.

As Caius frustratedly returned to his lab chair he thrust his brow into the crook of his hand.

"Where can I find a meal?" His was hungry. And controlling himself against the eternal influence of his appetite was becoming harder with all the activity of releasing his anger. But there would always be more where they came from. Both the hunger and the rage were just a part of him as would his face or his fangs.

"Master, the humans are always ready to be served." Aro said with a banter (and a pun) in his voice. Caius raised himself from his lab seat and walked through his door and out to his throne room, where dozens of ecstatic "tourists" were anxiously awaited a special "visit" from one of the descendants of the long "dead" Caius the Tempered. He took one last look at all the blood in his lab and almost thought of having one of those instead.

Maybe one of those vials is the right one, he thought. But he still needed one of those vials to have William's blood too. Now was not the time.

The time of the lamb is never near. He thought, shutting the door that he had so recently opened.


Raze was doing another blood call. And the butcher shop was closed.

"Shit." He stated flatly. He wasn't angry, but there were only a couple of butcher shops that didn't ask many question when you ordered blood by the liters.

He slumped against the store front window. The air was cold against his chest; he had just ran into a couple Death Dealers and had to rip his nice shirt up.

He looked around him and into the city that he haunted day and night. It was a respectable place, in the right neighborhoods. But as soon as he made his way from uptown to downtown, things went down hill fast. Trash flew through the narrow streets like broken butterflies trying to float their way out of such desolation, stray dogs wandered around like ghosts, hardly aware of anything else beside them. The homeless population was actually very low because of such situations that Raze was now in; he didn't have blood. It was a necessary part of the immortals' existence as the top of the food chain and the society annexed from them hardly cared about those wandering the streets like the dogs who followed them.

He stared out of his own for a while before remembering the task at hand. He didn't have blood for the City (the unofficial name for the Lycan hideout) and he needed to get some. Looking back at the store front, Raze searched for any way in. A metal iron grate was the first line of defense to those in Raze's position. And he was sure there would be no alarm system.

A tired smile crept onto his face.

Feeling the Lycan inside him turn his eyes that murky blue hue; Raze grasped the metal grate and pulled it off its hinges with little resistance at all. Now there was only a simple door between him and his prize. But he had already torn that off before another second passed.

Raze was sorry that he wouldn't be able to show his face here anymore, there would be too many suspicions, and he particularly liked this butcher. His shop was always clean in the places were it needed to be.

There was a display case showing off all cuts of meat that you could imagine and behind that there was an actual metal cutting table that was always sterilized. The floor, on the other hand, was covered in dried blood and whatever people felt like dragging in.

Raze bypassed all of this and jumped over the counter and into the back room. Here there were the smocks that the owner's employee's wore; bleached and not a stain upon them. Raze went a little further into the bowels of the shop and found what he was looking for. There was a vat of animal blood that the owner probably only kept because of Raze's once-in-a-while visits.

Raze just grabbed the entire vat, tore it out of its holdings and carried right out the front door.

The City-

"Where the hell is Raze?" yelled Sam. He paced in a room not unlike Lucien's but it was messier and there were holes in the walls; letting steaks of moonlight glisten against his browned skin.

"He'll be back. He always comes back." murmured a woman from one of the places in his room that wasn't touched by any moonlight.

Sam kept pacing. The woman almost growled in aggravation and leapt onto Sam's back. She had the same auburn skin tone as Sam and looked like the face of danger. Her hand smashed Sam's face into the concrete floor while her hips did the same to the rest of his body. Everything around them and the City was concrete. Even the water tasted like the noxious mixture. Their only relief from the tedium of the City was blood. And its current chafer was late.

"I said; he'll be back! Stop pacing!" She yelled; still on top of him. Sam tried moving his head, but it was stuck between her hand and the concrete floor.

"God damn, Leah! You don't need to be such a bitch!" Sam roared back at her. Leah casually let go of Sam's head and got off his back. She strode around his room for dramatic effect before returning to her perch.

"Yeah, but I like it." She said in a seductive tone. "And you do to." She added, in the sexiest voice she could manage. And she had a VERY alluring voice.

Sam smiled at his mate. Leah was perfect for him. She was fast-paced, dangerous, and passionate. Sam was volatile but mature, deliberative, and enjoyed his share of violence but not to the level that Leah did.

"Maybe if you would spend a little more time over here," Sam points to the ground beside him, "then in your little corner, I wouldn't need to pace back and forth to pass the time." He said with a devilish grin on his face. All he heard was a small chuckle from Leah's perch before being assaulted by her passionate kisses smashed onto his lips.

That's gonna leave a mark… He thought before he was completely wrapped up in the woman his Leah was. He felt her everywhere, through his skin, on his tongue and in his soul. She was his, and he was her's. They were perfect as one. Things were getting quite heated and Sam was slipping his shirt off when a knock on the open door startled them.

Raze was standing there, not a drop of blood on him but he looked absolutely drained. Sam found it very strange that the second in command for how ever many centuries they had been in the City, was tired.

Leah and Sam did not break from their embrace; and Raze did not seem phased by this at all. He just took a labored breath and looked straight at them.

"If you want something to eat, you'd better hurry up." He stated flatly before sliding off the door pane and walking towards his quarters.

Sam and Leah looked at each other, gave their significant other a final kiss and nearly ran down to the makeshift mess hall. When they arrived, almost everyone had eaten and now they were just doing things to pass the time. Some were playing cards, talking or playing sports like football, hakiesack or from outside, you could hear the growls, snarls and other noises that those who were more into sparing than sports were making.

They walked over, hand in hand, to the blood vat and eagerly waited for their ration. But when they saw it was empty, Sam started snarling even louder than those outside. Leah was looking around to snatch up any underling's meal. Before they could draw a horrible amount of attention to themselves, another Lycan motioned for them to join him at his table. Sam tore himself from his now grumbling stomach; Leah was hoping that the newborn next to the seated man was still too horrified at his new diet to drink.

But as soon as they sat down, the Lycan produced two rations of blood from beneath the table. Before any pleasantries could be exchanged, both of them gulped down the satisfying liquid. When Sam was almost done with his cup, he scraped some of the blood off the bottom and rubbed onto Leah's waiting lips. She licked it up with a contented purr. The newborn next to their "dealer" was looking at them with horror etched everywhere on his face. Leah looked directly at him and smiled with blood-stained teeth.

"What?" She inquired with a haughty look on her face.

The new-born just looked down at his own cup and grimaced. Slowly he raised it to his lips, and finally allowed the liquid entry. His eyes widened in shock. He actually was enjoying the taste.

"That's right; you like it, too." Leah declared knowingly.

"Leah, don't scare the boy off. He hasn't even shifted yet. The full moon is tomorrow." The Lycan next to him defended.

Leah just exposed another blood red smile right at the guy. He shuddered.

"So, Jacob, who's this new-born?" Sam asked. Jacob looked at the new-born and turned back to Sam.

"His name's Michael. Lucien said he saw potential when you brought him in." Jacob answered.

Sam looked at Michael with curiosity. "This is the kid I brought in? He looks…bigger than I thought he would."

Michael looked up to the older Lycan, taken aback by the kind words. He thought that this shirt was just too tight, but apparently it showed off his muscles in the right places. Leah noticed that too; but she only saw Michael as another man. Sam was her knight in the night.

Jacob decided to strike up some small talk with the guy, "Hey, Michael,"

Michael shot his head up from his half-full cup of blood and looked at Jacob.

"Yeah?" Michael whispered, not sure of how to answer a Lycan.

"What do you think of the set up here? Keep in mind that Leah is mainly one of a kind." Leah scoffed and threw a punch at Jacob, which he playfully countered.

Michael thought for a little before he answered.

"It's alright but I think a few potted plants and a couple curtains might spruce the place up nicely."

There were a couple moments of awkward silence before Sam and Jacob burst out laughing and Leah nearly choked while drinking Michael's half-finished glass. Michael probably would have finished that glass, but Leah scared him enough that he really didn't want to say anything.

Jacob kept laughed so hard he hit the table with his fist and nearly broke it. Michael had no idea why he was suddenly so funny. Finally Sam got a hold of his breath.

"Ah, it's good to have some fresh meat in this place." He mentioned with a smile on his face. Michael smiled back, glad that not everyone in this place was as scary as Leah.

The four talked for a while longer before they were tired enough to make their way to bed. Jacob showed Michael the way to the barracks, where the new-borns stayed. Michael couldn't help but think this place was run more like a military base than a city. But he also thought that it was finally good to have some friends in this place. And they had told him that after his turning, he would be encouraged to return to his civilian life for as long as he wasn't the source of suspicion. Thing were turning out pretty much in his favor.

But he didn't have luck anymore. He had blood.