DARK DESIRES

by Soledad

A "Pathways in the Dark" story

Part 07 of "The Toreador Chronicles". Follows "The Next Steps".

For disclaimer and background information see the Introduction.

Rating: Adult, for this part. Nothing explicit or descriptive, though.

Summary: Three months into his new job, Alain takes Brian to the BDSM and fetish club of the undead, La Lune Rouge, where he meets Lady Heather, a Lasombra domina, who teaches him a few things about himself.

Author's note:

For visuals: Lady Heather (Melinda Clarke) has been borrowed from the original CSI series. The Goth girl behind the bar has the looks of Abby (Pauline Perrette) from NCIS.

The three months of his temporary contract flew away for Brian like a blur, filled with hectic activity. Nevertheless, he managed to settle into some sort of routine, following a schedule set by his sometimes strange new business partners, who seemed to prefer working in the evening. The excuses were numerous, starting with some vaguely described skin condition through light-sensitive eyes up to chronic insomnia and the likes. Brian was almost certain that they were lying, but he couldn't for his life figure out why.

Unless they were all vampires, of course, but since they did walk in the sunshine at high noon if they had to, that was highly unlikely. Even if he did believe in vampires – which he did not. So he decided that they probably were just really weird, all of them. All that inbreeding in those old families must have had a devastating effect on the late offspring.

Ah, hell, at least they paid him well.

In these three months, he got introduced to a number of other people who were important for some reason. He met Countess Visconti and the equally elegant Madame D'Excavalier, dozens of studio guys, including the infamous Dawn Cavanaugh, a small, vaguely oriental-looking, olive-skinned woman with the creepiest ink-black eyes he'd ever seen, and who made him shiver. But she knew her job like no other cameraman, and the ad vids she produced became immediate hits.

The campaigns for Californian Summer were running on their own now, and Summer Rain had become the absolute hit of the season. Brian suggested Victor Girard to wait with the release of the first limited edition a little longer, and this, too, proved to be a sound idea. His share was high enough to buy a car – a two-seat sports car, similar to the one Phillipe drove privately, only in black. He'd have preferred a jeep, but that wouldn't match his new, sunny Californian image, so he compromised.

His casual affair with Phillipe continued on, although they didn't see each other every night anymore. The lawyer had much work to do with some heavy project including Nabbit Enterprises – Brian didn't know what it was. Of course, nobody would tell him that Phillipe was preparing to help Angelus, the vampire Prince of the city, to properly Embrace young David Nabbit, and to secure his billions for their circle of interests.

Brian missed the nightly company but accepted the inevitable changes and simply went clubbing on lonely nights – either with Emmett, who was floating on cloud nine in Nellie Land, or alone, if Em was too busy with his numerous new admirers. And he called Mikey in The Pitts at least once a week. Whenever he felt desperately alone.

Mikey seemed genuinely happy about his phone calls, telling him every bit of gossip. About Lindz, Mel and Gus. About Debbie and her detective. About the empty space Vic had left behind in their lives. About the comic shop. About Ted's latest (and futile) attempts to get into the so-called better circles. About everyone and everything, just never about himself and Ben and their marriage. Brian knew better to ask. Mikey's silence told more about his troubles than hours of whining would have.

On his clubbing tours, Brian often ran into Alain DeLaigle, who still seemed very intent on pursuing him. In those cases, they often ended up in interesting conversations instead of dragging off the next available trick. Alain showed him around in the art scene, especially the one in the gay community, taking him to smaller, less known – and more classy – places, making him familiar with this aspect of LA.

They became casual friends, despite the fact hat Brian still had a somewhat… eerie feeling around the artist. Never being one pussyfooting around the point, one night, when they were hanging out in one of the more elegant gay bars, he decided to be direct and try to clear up things a little.

"Alain, I'd like to ask you a question," he said slowly, "and I'd like an honest answer."

The artist looked at him thoughtfully, and then he nodded. "All right. Go ahead. I'll answer if I can."

"I've got the feeling that there's something going on. Something you guys don't tell me."

"That's correct," Alain admitted freely.

"I see," Brian said after a short pause, somewhat surprised by that openness. "May I ask why?"

"For your own safety," Alain replied. "There is… knowledge that would get you in danger. You're better off in ignorance."

"But that could prove just as dangerous, couldn't it?" Brian asked with a frown. Alain nodded.

"It could. That's why we'll tell you everything, eventually. When you are ready."

"And who'll decide when the moment is come?" Brian asked sarcastically. Alain flashed him a charming grin.

"That person would be me. I've been selected as your… guardian before you got the job offer in the first place."

"Does that mean that you don't really have any personal interest in me?" Brian didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. "Was it all just show?"

"Oh, no," that predatory silver gleam appeared in Alain's eyes again. "I've got the hots for you since the moment you walked into Victor's office. I knew at once that I'll have you one day all for myself. I just let you play around with Phillipe for fun."

Brian shook his head in exasperation. "This is beyond creepy. The whole thing is creepy. Are you guys some kind of crazed serial killers or what?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Alain laughed. "All we've told you about us is true."

"Just not the whole truth," Brian added.

"No, it's not," Alain agreed. "But let me tell you something: the only truth you'll ever truly learn is the one about yourself. About your true nature, your needs, your darkest desires," he stood and threw some money on the counter. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"To someone who can help you to learn the truth about yourself."

"And what if I don't want to learn the truth about myself?" Brian protested.

Alain gave him a long, thoughtful look. "You'll have to, sooner or later. There is no way around it. For none of us."

"What is this place?" Brian asked when they walked into the foyer of La Lune Rouge. The foyer had a slightly gothic look; it had red walls with heavy dark curtains, a central bar with a tattooed Goth girl serving as the barkeeper, a small stage with a pole for strippers, but still seemed normal enough – save from the large wrought-iron bird cage in which a young man was sitting, wearing a black leather loincloth and dramatic eye-makeup. There could be little doubt what sort of establishment the club was.

"This is the place of naked truth and freedom, achieved through learning, experience… and pain," a deep, cold female voice answered, and a tall, willowy woman in a shimmering black evening gown – not the kinky sort but an original Girard model in which she could have appeared on the cocktail party of the President – strolled around the bar to greet them. She wore her raven black hair down and without any adornment, which emphasized the deathly, almost translucent paleness of her skin and the vibrant, lush red of her full lips. Her eyes were pitch black, lined with silver. The only revealing sign of her profession was a black leather whip she held in one flawlessly manicured hand.

"Lady Heather," Alain took her free hand and kissed it respectfully, "thanks for seeing us in such a short notice."

The domina – for there couldn't be any doubt what she was – waved dismissively, her silver fingernails glittering in the reddish lights of the bar.

"Nonsense, Alain. Regular clients – especially as faithful ones as yourself – deserve a little extra treatment. Who's your liaison?"

"His name's Brian," the artist replied. "He's new to the city… trying to find his way."

"Then you've brought him to the right place," the domina declared serenely.

Alain had his mild doubts about that. A Lasombra antitribu in Toreador disguise, Lady Heather had proven her reliability a long time ago. If Brian wanted to explore his darker side, this certainly was the perfect place to try. Still, the clientele was… risky sometimes, and Alain couldn't be one hundred per cent sure that none of them would get out of control. All he could do was to trust Lady Heather, as he needed his own outlet tonight. It had been too long for him.

He hoped he'd done the right thing, bringing Brian here. It was in the domina's best interest to keep Clan Toreador's favour, after all. They had hidden and protected her from her own Clan for decades. Besides, she was the best LA could offer in this trade.

Lady Heather gave Brian one of those strange, intense looks usually seen by snakes when they are trying to hypnotize their prey. Then she turned to Alain.

"Phillipe was right," she said. "He is a resistor."

"I'm a what?" Brian asked, trying very hard not to freak out.

"You belong to the less than five per cent of humans who can't be hypnotized," Lady Heather explained, bending the truth a little; actually, Brian was more than that. He was one of the rare humans immune against the Kindred mesmerising powers.

"And you can tell that just by looking at me?" Brian asked, feeling still more than a little uncomfortable.

"Of course not," Lady Heather replied. "I was making a strong suggestion to you – ninety-five people out of a hundred would have followed it, without realizing the impulse came from outside."

"So, you're some sort of witch, or voodoo priestess?" Brian asked with a frown.

"No," Lady Heather said, "it's a natural ability, rarer even than yours." Actually, it was a rather frequent Lasombra trait, but the suspicious mortal didn't need to know that. "It's helpful in dealing with our customers here. Most of them are too frightened or too ashamed to lay open their true wants and needs. They need a little… encouragement."

"Handy, isn't it?" Brian remarked cynically, but Lady Heather took no offence.

"Yes, it is," she said. "You must understand that people come here out of their own free will. We don't force them to do anything they do not want or that's against their deepest, truest nature. We are here to help discover their needs – and to help satisfy them. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Through pain and torture?" Brian asked doubtfully.

"Nietzsche said once: 'Everything deep needs masks'," Lady Heather answered, "and some needs lie so deeply hidden, so buried under layers upon layers of masks that they need a strong impulse to surface. But surface they must for the person to become whole. Take him, for example," she nodded in Alain's direction. "He's too strong, too volatile in his tempers, a captive of his own wrath. Would he not seek out balance by submission and punishment time and again, he'd become self-destructive… and a lethal danger for those around him."

Remembering how Alain had nearly killed Justin in a fit of black rage over something as trivial as a few nasty remarks, Brian nodded in understanding. It made sense.

"Or look at him," Lady Heather gestured with her whip towards the newest arrival, a short, wiry man clad in black leather and blood red silk, with spiky, bleached blond hair, vibrant blue eyes and killer cheekbones. "He lives in a committed relationship where he's the submissive one… well, more than just that. He's owned by his master – there's no better word for what they have. He's agreed to this freely; but he's got a strong will and a free spirit and without an outlet to balance out his major role, he'd have gone mad long ago. So he seeks here the chance to dominate – and we offer him that chance."

The Billy Idol wannabe flashed the domina a wide grin, his incredible eyes sparkling. The balance thing certainly seemed to work for him.

"Spike," Lady Heather greeted him. "It's been too long since your last visit. You know that could be dangerous."

"I was out of town," the man said with a surprisingly deep, pleasant voice and a typical cockney accent. "Had to stalk people, beat up the bad blokes, kill things… that sort of fun."

For a disturbing moment, Brian wasn't sure whether the man was joking or not. But seeing Alain's amused grin he decided that it had to be the punk's weird sense of humour. British humour, apparently.

"But," Spike added brightly, "I'm here now and ready to play. Can you recommend me any playmates, milady?"

Lady Heather looked from him to Alain and back speculatively.

"I believe the two of you would be a good match," she decided. "Leave the young man in my care, Alain. I promise to hand him back to you unharmed… though maybe wiser."

Alain nodded in agreement and left with the bleached blond through one of the back doors. Brian looked after them curiously. "Where are they going?"

"To the private areas… do you want to see them?" Lady Heather waved to one of her aides. "Darling, can you take over here for me? I'll show Brian around a bit."

Brian had a strange feeling following the domina around: half fear, half excitement. She only showed him the unoccupied rooms. There was over-the-top padded black leather equipment everywhere, with sensuous framed paintings and prints and artificial flower arrangements. The sight of the utilities was enough to make him tense with anxiety… and very aroused. He saw Lady Heather's knowing glance at the revealing parts of his anatomy and smiled nervously. She returned his smile.

"You find the idea exciting," it was not a question. She would smell his arousal even if his jeans would have been less tight – vampire senses were much stronger than human ones; a fact as yet unknown to Brian.

"Yes," he admitted, a bit reluctantly.

She nodded in approval. "There's nothing wrong with that. Have you tried such games before?"

"Some," he replied. "Spanking, mild bondage… nothing serious."

"Nothing?" she stared at him intently, feeling the lie. He shrugged.

"Well, I tried choking on my thirtieth birthday. It was an incredible turn-on. I came like a volcano."

"But?" she asked, because there definitely was a 'but'. Brian shrugged again.

"It nearly got out of control. My best friend found me hanging from my scarf and freaked out completely. I never tried anything like that again."

"Why not?"

"I didn't want to upset Mikey," Brian murmured, his eyes opaque with pain. He couldn't believe he was telling these things to a complete stranger. But perhaps it was the anonymity that made it so much easier than talking with those he considered friends.

The domina nodded. "His friendship is important for you. That's good. We all need a specific someone. But this person can't always be the one who can guide us through the darker paths of our needs… because he or she doesn't have the same urges and couldn't understand them."

"Mikey has always been so much better than I was," Brian whispered sadly.

"This has nothing to do with better or worse," Lady Heather replied, "and the sooner you understand that, the better it would be for you. This is all about need, Obviously, for some reason, you need these things to be whole – it's your nature. The lesson you should have learned from the incident is not that you should never do anything like that again. The lesson is that you shouldn't do anything like that alone."

"You should become an ad exec," Brian grinned humourlessly, "but you shouldn't try your skills on a fellow shark."

"I'm not trying to win you as a customer," she said with a shrug. "Although I can assure you that my establishment is one of the bests in the scene. What I meant was that you need someone with you when you're experimenting – unless you have a death wish. Do you have one?"

Brian didn't answer at once. That was a question he'd asked himself several times during the recent years. Ever since Gus' birth, when he started flirting with death as an alternative to growing old. He often found his life empty, so much was sure, but he didn't really want to die… at least not yet.

"No, I don't think so," he finally said. Not as long as Mikey stands by me.

"Very well," the domina nodded. "In that case, the preferable way of action would be to learn more about your hidden needs. I can help you with that."

"You?" Brian smiled. "No offence, lady, but I'm not into women."

"I know," she replied calmly. "Nor do I sleep with my clients. This is not about sexual preferences… not even about sex itself. Not primarily, anyway. It's all about need and about learning what you need. To discover your depths, you'll need guidance. I'm an expert in this area – the expert, as many would assure you. I can introduce you how these things are done correctly. To find the right partner would be your job."

Brian nodded. "I can see the reason in that. What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I'm offering to take you on a journey of self-exploration," Lady Heather answered. "This is usually the first session with newbies. To learn through experience what you need and what you don't. Are you willing to give it a try?"

"Perhaps," Brian gave the toys laid out on the table a nervous glance. "But I'm most certainly not into that sado-maso stuff. My goddamn father gave me enough beating for a lifetime when I was a kid; I'm not going there voluntarily now."

"Nor was I suggesting anything like that," she agreed. "I do believe that your need is beyond the physical level… which makes things more complicated. But doable, if you trust me."

"Why should I?" Brian asked flippantly. "I don't even know you, and frankly, you give me the creeps."

"Very perceptive," the domina gave him another of those ghostly smiles. "The only reason why you should trust me is because I'm a professional. I know what I'm doing. Besides," she added in an amused tone, "Alain would tear me to pieces if I harmed you in any way."

"Somehow I don't think that would keep you from doing anything you want," Brian said dryly.

"You are right, it wouldn't," she admitted. "But harming my clients would be bad for business, and I happen to find great satisfaction in my work."

"Because of the goodness of your heart?" Brian said ironically.

"Of course not. It's the dark depths that open up in people with my guidance that fascinate me," Lady Heather smiled that eerie smile again. "Nowhere else are people as brutally honest as during one of these sessions. The truth about oneself, the truth about human nature is not always pleasant. But it does have a dark fascination. In ancient times, people went to temples and through dangerous rituals to face that side of themselves. Nowadays, they come to me and the others like me. It's not an easy journey, and it could be painful. But you do have the strength to see through it."

Brian hesitated a little, but the siren song of danger and excitement was too strong for him to withstand. It's all about trust, Mikey's dreamy voice echoed in his mind as his friend had told them about the bondage games with Ben in the sauna. He suppressed the memory ruthlessly.

"Very well," he said; everything was better than reliving those moments of the past. "Let's give it a try."

"Excellent," Lady Heather nodded and switched on the In Use light sign outside the room they were in. "Remember, you can stop this any time you want. Now take off your clothes."

"Excuse me?" Brian nearly choked, and the domina laughed – the first genuine laughter since they met.

"Relax. That's part of the routine – the way a session starts. I don't want anything from you. Just follow my instructions, will you?"

Still suspicious a little, Brian undressed, hang up his clothes and spread his arms. "Okay, I'm naked, now what?"

She walked around him unhurriedly, eyeing his body in a manner that reminded him of Lindz looking at some new piece of artwork. With the eyes of a detached expert who didn't want to buy, just to admire.

"I understand now what Alain sees in you," she said. "He's always had a fascination for ancient Greek art, and you're the closest thing on two legs he could hope to find. Sit down," she pointed at a leather couch. "We'll talk now."

"I need to be naked to talk?" Brian glared at her incredulously. "While you remain fully clothed?"

"Yes," she said. "How does it make you feel?"

Brian thought about if for a moment. Normally, he didn't have any problems with nudity. Every gay man in Pittsburgh had seen him naked at least once, and he had been walked in on by Lindz more than once. But here, in this surreal place, with this strange woman, things were different.

"Exposed," he admitted. "Vulnerable, perhaps."

"Uncomfortable?" she asked.

Brian nodded. "Maybe a little."

"It's a beginning," she said. "You'll feel a lot more uncomfortable for a while. Before you outgrow it."

The session coming to its end, Lady Heather allowed Brian to get dressed again and raised a thin eyebrow in askance.

"Do you believe that you have learned something about yourself?" she inquired.

Brian shrugged. "Perhaps. I'm not sure."

"It's still too early," the domina nodded in agreement. "To find an answer to that question, you'll need several more sessions."

"I don't do psychotherapy," Brian protested instinctively.

"Neither do I," Lady Heather replied. "I just accompany you on your way of self-discovery… if you want me to."

"I don't know if I do," Brian said honesty.

"Of course not," she inclined her head in an almost ceremonial manner. "You need to think about it. In the end, I'm not the person you truly need. Should you choose me as your guide for the next part of your journey… well, you know where to find me."

She turned around and made an unhurried exit with an almost otherworldly grace. Brian left the room, too, and ran into Alain in the foyer. The artist seemed to have been waiting for him for some time, while flirting with the Goth girl behind the bar. Of the bleached blond in black leather there was no sign, but Alain practically oozed the lazy satisfaction of a recent – and very thorough – fucking session.

"Done already?" he asked, giving the Goth girl a peck on the cheek. "I haven't counted on you so early. How did you like it?"

Brian shrugged. "It was… interesting."

"Interesting, hm?" Alain's experienced eye took in his expression in a second. "I guess it wasn't your cup of tea, after all. Strange. I'm rarely wrong when it comes to such things."

"I might try it again," Brian said, "but I don't really think this would be what I needed."

"Or whom you needed," Alain said quietly. "You do realize, I hope, that your feelings are bordering on obsession. You can destroy yourself – and your 'friend', if you don't find a way to deal with them."

"Look who's speaking," Brian replied dryly, and Alain laughed.

"Touché. But at least I have found a way to deal with my obsession."

"Was he good?" Brian grinned.

"Oh, yes," the artist answered with deep satisfaction. "I might be in for a repeat performance – or more than one."

"Sounds intriguing," Brian's grin widened. Alain shook his head.

"Forget it. He's above your league… unless you are really into pain."

"Are you?" Brian asked.

"Sometimes," Alain admitted. "Pain and pleasure are very close to each other – the one makes the other more intense. Sometimes I need that intensity."

It was different for vampires, who had tasted death already. But he couldn't explain that to Brian. Not yet, anyway. Soon, he hoped.

"Let's go home," he suggested. "Or do you want to go clubbing tonight?"

"Just to the D'Oblique," Brian said. "I'll have a drink and watch Sergio wriggle his ass to entertain the guests. Maybe I'll get lucky."

"He has a talented mouth," Alain agreed. "Unless he's taken already for tonight, you're in for a delightful event."

They laughed and walked out of the club to Alain's car, with arms around each other's waist.

The End - for now