Taming the Vagabond 2

bySoledad

A "Pathways in the Dark" story

Part 12 of "The Toreador Chronicles". Follows "Forging the Bond".

For disclaimer and background information see the Introduction.

Rating: Adults only, for this part.

Author's notes: Vagabond comes from the Latin word vagabundus. In its original meaning it's a restless person who wanders from one place to another, trying his luck in different places.

Summary: Brian makes the all-deciding step into the Dark.

He found Alain in his office – in the company of Victor Girard. The two didn't seem to be discussing anything of importance, though. If they had any business with each other, they had gotten over the official part already, and were now sitting in the deep, futuristic armchairs in a corner opposite the desk and were sipping red wine – or what seemed red wine. Brian had learned not to assume anything any longer where bloodsuckers were involved.

Having taught the importance – and the privileges – of a Clan Primogen, Brian nodded to Victor Girard politely before turning to Alain.

"We need to talk," he said simply. The artist frowned.

"Can it wait? As you can see, I have a visitor."

"That comes handy," Brian replied, "because what I have on my mind concerns both of you."

The two French vampires exchanged looks of mild surprise. Then Alain, who'd become very good at reading Brian's moods, turned to the mortal with widening eyes.

"You've come to a decision," he said. It was not a question.

Brian nodded. "I have."

Alain looked at him for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, Brian knew that the artist had already guessed what his decision would be.

"You accept. "That wasn't a question, either. Brian nodded again.

"Basically, yes," he said. "But there are a few things I'd like to know before… well, before the big suckfeast starts. Actually, make it a lot of things."

The shadow of a smile appeared for a moment on Alain's pale face.

"Of course," he said. "We usually instruct our future Childer about the intricacies of unlife before we go for the jugular." There was that dark irony again that made him so attractive in Brian's eyes; well, that and his good looks.

"Besides," he added, "I need to get the Prince's permission first. And the support of my Primogen, of course."

Victor Girard shifted positions and rubbed his bony hands in delight.

"Oh, I do support you," he said; then, after a moment of consideration, he asked. "Do you want me to speak with Angelus on your behalf? It has usually more weight if the Clan Primogen presents the request."

"He already knows of my intent," Alan replied. "After all, he hallowed me to hide Brian in the Hyperion. But it never hurts to stick to the rules. I appreciate your offer."

"Consider it done," Victor Girard emptied his glass and stood. "Well, I better get going now. The two of you will have a lot to discuss. Oh, and welcome to Clan Toreador, Brian."

"I'm not there yet," Brian reminded him. The Primogen grinned.

"A technicality," he replied airily. "Deep in your heart you've always been a Toreador, I believe. Alain will just set your true nature free. Au revoir."

He waved at them and waltzed out, in the manner of a slightly overbearing stage actor, obviously thrilled by the perspective to win a proper fledgling for the Clan. Alain looked after him for a moment with mild exasperation; then he gestured to Brian to sit down in the Primogen's vacated chair.

"Let's talk, then," he said.

It was a long talk, all things considered – it lasted the whole night. While in theory Brian had accepted the offer of eternal life… unlife… whatever, he was full of anxious quiestions about how the entire thing was going to happen, and what to epect afterwards, once the task had been performed.

They were discussing his life, after all. And while he had flirted with death occasionally, whatever his motivation might have been, approaching his own death with eyes wide open – with open arms, in fact – was a very different thing. Besides, there were technicalities to discuss.

"I see no reason to postpone it too long, now that you've made up your mind," Alain said carefully, not wanting to press him. That would have caused the polar opposite of the desired result with Brian, and the artist knew that. "An overlong waiting period only worsens the anxiety. Also, it would be a good thing if you were done with Becoming when Brett starts shooting the Rage movie. You might be needed to represent your friend's interests again."

"But he plans to start filming in two months' time!" Brian said. "Will I be through the worst by then?"

"By all accounts, you should," Alain replied calmly. "This will be a controlled Embrace, not the kind of freak accident like in Emmett's case. I'll prepare you well – no, not that way, get your mind out of the gutter this one time! This is a serious step that will last for eternity, unless you do something monumentally foolish afterwards."

"I know," Brian said, "and frankly, it scars the shit out of me. Is it gonna hurt a lot?"

"No more than what's inevitable," Alain assured him. "And I'll be there for you, every step on the way. There are ways to ease the pain of the Becoming – I'll do everything in my might to make this as easy for you as possible."

"I know," Brian sighed. "Do you think, though, there's anythign that could really prepare someone for… for this?"

"No," Alain admitted bluntly. "Dying and Becoming is a unique experience for everyone. But it helps if the Sire is as old and powerful as I am. The more powerful the Sire's Vitae – his blood – is, the more does it sustain the fledgling. You'll be fine – if you live trhrough the Embrace, that is."

"What do you mean if I live through it?" Brian flet the panic rising in the pit of his stomach. "I thought you knew what you were about to do!"

"I do," Alain replied, "and I don't really expect any complications. You're young and strong and determined. If you can resist the lure of the light in the deciding moment, you'll be okay."

"I don't understand," Brian fought the panic very hard, clinging to the soothing touch of Alain's cool hand above his heart.

"Of course not – how could you?" Alain's voice sounded distant, almost wistful. "But you will, once you've come to that particular threshold. There is a significant moment, after your heart has stopped and I've fed you my Vitae, when you must make the final decision – to continue your journey into the light you'll be seeing, and to the great unknown that lies beyond, or to return to this world as a creature of the Dark. Should the pull of the light prove too strong, you may not be able to resist. There's no way to tell beforehand. It's different for everyone."

"I don't wanna die, really die, I mean," Brian said, still panicking a little. "I wanna come back! That's the reason for this whole exercise, isn't it?"

Alain nodded. "It is. And I believe your roots in this world are strong enough to keep you here. It's a rare thing anyway, to be pulled over by the light – but it's a distinct possibility. Knowing what you're gonna face can help you to resist."

"What the hell is that light anyway?" Brian asked with a frown. "Is it the same thing the priests babble about?"

"How could I know?" Alain asked back with a shrug. "No one has returned from there to tell; not in my lifetime anyway, which has been long enough, as you know." He patted Brian's chest reassuringly. "Don't worry. Of all the potential fledglings I've ever met, you have the strongest reason to return. After all, you'll leave the better half of your heart and soul behind."

Which was very true, of course. If Michael wouldn't be a strong enough anchor for Brian to keep him in this world, nothing else would.

"And if I return," he said, "what will happen afterwards?"

"You'll go through Becoming, which will be unpleasant enough," Alain replied with brutal honesty. "For a while, I'll have to keep you close; a fledgling must learn to control the Beast, and it is violent in our bloodline, as you've seen yourself at more than one occasion."

"Vamp training?" Brian joked lamely.

"Learning your new nature," Alain corrected. "It won't be easy. But I don't want to Blood Bond you, even though it would make it easier to establish control. In fact, when we first decided to approach you, it was suggested to me."

"And you declined?" Brian asked in surprise, having learned of Alain's control issues already. "Why?"

"I don't want a thrall, a bonded slave who'd detest me the way Ash detests Isaac," Alain replied. "I want you to submit to me of your own free will, not because you have no other choice. I'm strong enough to establish my dominance without breaking your will – or causing you to take a walk in the sun, as I doubt that you'd be able to survive as a slave. It's not in your nature."

"But aren't you risking that things wouldn't turn out according to your wished?" Brian asked.

"I am," Alain agreed. "If all I wanted were your body, I would bond you – but what should I do with a pretty but empty husk? I want you the way you are – well, save from the drugs and the drinking , but once you've experienced the rush of the Kindred Kiss, you won't be needing those anyway. Al will be well, you'll see it. Just listen to me and follow my lead."

Two days later Victor Girard called Alain and told him that the Prince of the City had given his consent – Alain was now free to Embrace Brian any time he wanted. In fact, the time couldn't be any more fitting, with Alain's students off to Europe on a study trip and the shooting of the Rage movie still weeks away. They had the house all to themselves.

At least where mortals were considered, that is. Representatives of the Clan and close Kindred friends were supposed to be present, if not for other reason, than to help, should anything go wrong. In theory, Alain could be trusted with performing a proper Embrace without help, but everyone knew that there were no two cases alike. So it was quite a crowd that gathered in Alain's house on the chosen day.

That Victor Girard would be there was only natural; it was his right as the Clan Primogen. But Louis Fortier had come, too, representing the Anarch Toreadors, with his Childe Mlle DuBois; and Edward Blount and his twin cousins (although they hadn't brought Emmett who was still nothing more than a fledgling). And Phillipe, who might be a Ventrue, but had a personal interest in Brian still. And, last but not least, as the only mortal present, Bethany, the red-headed psychology student from the Luna Foundation.

"She's a volunteer," Alain explained. "You'll need mortal blood after your reawakening, and taking it fresh, directly from the source, is always better than the bottled stuff. With her psychokinetic powers, Bethany is probably the only mortal who can safely face a newly Embraced fledgling."

Brian gave the young woman a doubtful glance. She seemed so soft and feminine, almost fragile – it was hard to imagine that she would be able to stand up to an out-of-control vampire. Alain grinned.

"Show him," he said, and in the next moment Brian felt an irresistible force lift him off his feet and press him against the wall, about a foot above the floor. Another moment later Bethany let him go, and he landed on his feet again, with a slight thump.

"I thought you could only do this when you're in danger," he grumbled, rubbing his throat uncomfortably. Somehow, a mere mortal girl having superhero abilities seemed weirder than all the bloodsuckers in the room.

"I've trained," Bethany replied simply. "Don't fret; we'll both be fine. I've done this before."

"You should begin," Victor Girard intervened quietly. "We'll stay here and wait… just in case."

Alain nodded. "I agree. Brian, are you ready?"

Brian's stomach clenched painfully. This was the very last moment to change his mind should he want to. His nervous glance met Phillipe's eyes: soft hazel eyes full of fondness and understanding. Alain might have seduced him into the Dark, but Phillipe had been the firs vampire he'd become intimate with, and even after they'd drifted apart, they remained casual friends. The presence of the lawyer meant a lot to him.

Phillipe came over to him and kissed him, slowly and deeply. The familiar taste helped a lot to soothe Brian's nerves.

"Good luck," the Ventrue said. "See you in a few hours."

And so there was nothing else to do than to proceed to Alain's bedroom – the very same where they had made passionate love last night to enjoy Brian's last warm night. Even a devout cynic like Brian had felt how much more it had been than his usual excesses – it had been his farewell to the world as he knew it and as he would never see it again. To a life he had lived to its limits and that couldn't offer him anything that would still attract him.

Except Michael, of course, but Brian had come to realize that his former life would never hold anything worth offering to Michael. It had to be a different life, with different rules, for them to be together.

If he lived through the painful process of becoming a vampire, that is.

"Second thoughts?" Alain asked quietly. "You can still back off, you know."

Brian shook his head. "Nah, I don't want to. Just cold feet, I guess."

Alain grinned. "That's normal. Cold feet we can deal with."

"I hope so," Brian looked around in the almost empty bedroom, noticing that the large bed had been covered with a simple crimson cloth. It had the symbol of Clan toreador, a single rose, embroidered in the middle, in black and gold. Two antique candlesticks stood right and left of the headboard, with tall, red candles burning evenly.

"It looks like a bier," Brian said, and Alain nodded.

"In a sense, it is one. I'm going to kill you, there's no other way to put it. And where would be more appropriate to reawaken you to new life than in the same bed where we've become one in body and soul many times?"

"In soul?" Brian repeated, darkly amused. "Are you sure I actually have one? I'm not sure many would agree."

"They don't know you as intimately as I do," Alain replied calmly. "I drank your blood, and you saw through my eyes in your dreams. Few can hope to get any closer than that."

"I see your point," Brian hesitated for a moment. "How are we gonna do this?"

"Relax and let me lead you," Alain stepped closer, loosened Brian's tie and pulled it off him completely. Then he unbuttoned the upmost three buttons of Brian's shirt to gain free access to the mortal's neck.

"I appreciate the fact that you've dressed up to the occasion," he said, stroking Brian's chest through the expensive silk shirt. "I always knew you had style. Now, lie down on the bed, on your back."

Brian obeyed, and Alain stretched out on his side, touching and kissing him on the most sensitive spots, it they were about to make love again. But this time the artist's eyes were shot with silver; Alain had fasted for days to be able to drain him of all his blood, and the Thirst was strong, very strong. The vampire had to walk on razor's edge, the thin line that separated Embracing from killing. Fortunately for Brian, Alain was old and strong. Strong enough to keep the Beast on the lash.

Alain sucked Brian's neck above the pulse point, luring the big vein to the surface. Then his fangs dropped on their own, piercing the soft, sensitized skin and opening the blood vessel. Brian convulsed in the sharp pain, but the ecstasy of the Kiss washed him away, filling his blood with adrenaline and endorphins, making a gourmet meal of him for his Sire-to-be.

Old and experienced, Alain didn't allow the rapture to overwhelm him. While drinking slow and deep, he listened to the mortal's heartbeat as it slowed down gradually, while the flow of life left the limp body. The all-deciding moment wasn't far now.

Brian felt strangely light-headed, in a way no drugs could ever make him. His limbs were numb, and he felt as if he was floating among clouds or some other cotton-like substance. The world darkened around him, but it wasn't threatening. It was like sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And then, like a door suddenly opening in a windowless room,. A panel of white, blinding light appeared, gleaming, calling to him to follow its lure, to step through the gateway and enter the unknown lands beyond it. Forgetting everything else, he moved towards the light, slowly but irresistibly.

Catching the last beat of the mortal heart, Alain knew he had to act quickly. Kissing the now cool lips, he sliced his tongue with the tip of a fang, and deepened the kiss, forcing his Vitae down the unmoving throat. This was an unusual method, but he found that it worked better than most. Many a fledgling died because their Sire wasn't able to make them swallow his Vitae. With Alain's method, it always worked.

The sheer unbearable hat of Alain's powerful Vitae burned through Brian's very being like a living flame. It was agony, but it was also a pleasure beyond anything he'd ever felt before. It stopped his instinctive drifting towards the light, making him vaguely self-aware again.

He realized – rather feeling than truly knowing – that he was standing on the threshold of two worlds. Before him, the great unknown stretched to infinity, just past that shining gateway whose siren song tried to lull him into dumb obedience again. Over there lay adventures he couldn't even imagine. Behind him lay the dark empire of the undead; a long life in the twilight, the chance to right the wrongs of his mortal life that was now irrevocably over, no matter the outcome.

He would never be able to go back the way he'd been for three decades and more. But in the Dark behind him was the potential of centuries. Centuries to learn to grow, to love. And somewhere behind him, on the sunlit side of the Dark, was Mikey… and the chance for them to finally be together as they had always been meant to be together.

It wasn't such a hard decision, really. The adventures of the great unknown could only be faced together with Michael… but there was no need to hurry. The gleaming fields would keep. Before they would cross that particular threshold, there were shared centuries in the Dark – or so he hoped. First, though, he had to return… if he could only find the right direction.

He sought around him blindly, and before he would start panicking in earnest, he found Alain's steady presence. For the first time, he could feel the power of his Sire directly – it was enough to pull him back, if only he held on fast enough.

Alain felt Brian's consciousness awakening through their link; it was a crude and weak connection yet, but enough for him to send his instructions directly into the fledgling's mind, instead of shocking his sharpened vampire senses with actual sound or touch.

Easy, Childe, he soothed. I've got you now. All is well; it's done.

Brian opened his eyes – only to shot them again, tightly. The dim light of the candles in the otherwise dark room attacked his vision like hot knives.

"Hurts," he whimpered, his own voice thundering in his ears, unbearably loud.

I know, Alain replied mind-to-mind. Your senses are much sharper now. Give yourself time to adjust.

The reasonable explanation calmed the fledgling a little; he lay still in his Sire's arms, leaning against Alain's body that was almost mortal warm from his own blood that had been transferred to it. Much warmed, in fact, than he felt himself. He was shivering.

"C-cold," he whispered, and curled into a foetal position as the pain of the Becoming – the hunger of the starved tissues – hit without a warning.

"I know," Alain murmured in the lowest possible voice, almost subvocally. "You need to feed."

The scent of blood – the blood of his Sire, of his unknown but powerful bloodline, the blood of his Clan – hit his senses as Alain's wrist, with the large blood vessel already opened, was offered to him. Hyperaware of scent, taste and texture, the fledgling launched at the precious offering, suckling like a babe, until the worst edge of the pain was blunted to a dull ache and he could take a deep – and now completely unnecessary – breath again.

He looked up into Alain's smiling face and was surprised to see the older vampire's pride and joy. As a mortal, he'd never seen anything remotely like that on Jack Kinney's face; and while his relationship with his Sire had nothing parental in it – that would really be sick and weird – he could finally feel that he was wanted. Wanted and cherished.

Strange that he had to die first. But it was well worth the price.

"Yes, you are worth it," Alain murmured, still smiling and more touched than he'd felt in a very long time. This fledgling, this beautiful, arrogant, vulnerable creature was his now, and he would teach him everything, every trick learned in half a millennium, to make him last long in the Dark.

Something of his feelings must have seeped through their link, because Brian relaxed in his arms and leaned against him trustingly – something that didn't come to him easily.

"How are the senses doing?" Alain asked in the same low, almost subvocal voice. It still sounded too loud, almost harsh in the fledgling's newly sensitized ears, but it didn't hurt anymore.

"Better," Brian murmured, mindful of his own ears. "I'm adapting."

"You're a survivor," Alain replied. "I'd like to bring in the others now, if you don't mind."

"Now?" In his sudden panic Brian sent the question through their link, without being aware of it. "Too soon..." he wasn't sure he could face multiple sensory attacks just yet."

"Easy, take it easy," Alain soothed. "They've all been through the same thing; they know how to approach a newly awakened fledgling. And it must be. It's tradition to present the neonate to the Clan Primogen if said Primogen has come to witness the Embrace. Trust me?"

After a moment of hesitation, Brian nodded. Alain, who kept a surface link with his Primogen, sent Victor Girard a silent invitation to enter. Knowing from first-hand experience how painful a sensory overload right after the Embrace could be, the Toreador entered the room almost noiselessly – it didn't sound more than loud footsteps for Brian's ears.

"It's done," Alain reported to his Primogen. "He has awakened."

Victor Girard smiled and nodded, taking in the changed looks of Brian with appreciation. The fledgling still showed the usual tan achieved in the solarium, but his chestnut hair had a slight reddish hue now that fit him excellently, and his eyes were shot with silver.

"Congratulations," Girard said to both of them. "And welcome to Clan Toreador, Brian."

"Thanks," Brian murmured; then he doubled over in pain again. It felt as if his insides were slashed by hot knives.

"He needs more blood," Girard warned, and Bethany came already, without waiting for an imperative. "You should open the blood vessel yourself, though, Alain. An untrained fledgling in the first bouts of the Thirst…"

"I know, I know," Alain said impatiently. He accepted Bethany's outstretched arms and – extending a talon – opened one of the large blood vessels. "Come here, Childe. You need to feed."

The scent of her blood, mortal blood, the source of his unlife for the entire future, pulled on Brian's senses. He didn't gave the process any thought, sure that it would probably freak him out, big time, if he did, so he just bent over the proffered arm and let his instincts carry him on. The mortal warmth of her blood felt scalding hot to his starving cells; it burned through his insides, warming him, easing the pain…

That is enough, Childe, Alain's order reached him through the link, in a tone that broke no disobedience. Reluctantly, he withdrew, licking the wound to seal it as he'd been taught. Bethany's head was thrown back, her pale face frozen in ecstasy, and Brian suppressed a chuckle at the absurd thought that he only had to die in order to pleasure a woman thoroughly.

You're incorrigible came Alain's amused mental comment, and Brian shrugged and grinned, presenting his brand new fangs.

"I see all the necessary parts are in place," Phillipe smiled. "If you're interested… and if Alain lets you… we can test the differences, once you've finished Becoming."

"I doubt I'd ever be able to keep Brian from anything he really wants to do," Alain said dryly. "Once he's freed, his decisions will be his own."

"As long as he pays his due… respects to his Sire, I presume," Phillipe added suavely.

"Of course," Alain nodded. "That's the whole point, isn't it?"

"I guess it is," Phillipe smiled at Brian in a very different, almost gentle manner; as one would smile at a newborn babe, which, in Kindred terms, Brian was at the moment. "We ought to go now. You both need to rest – and time to fully establish your link. I shall inform the Prince that the Embrace has been successful."

Since he'd taken part in the Embracing of young billionaire David Nabbit on Angelus' behalf – with the Prince doing the killing but Phillipe supplying more than half of the Vitae necessary to make the new fledgling – he had the Prince's ear, and the Camarilla put that improved relationship to good use.

"Bethany and I shall stay the night," Victor Girard decided. "She might be needed yet, and I'd like to see how things develop – if it's all right with you, Alain."

The artist nodded. "Sure, use the guest rooms; you know where they are. Brian and I still have a long way to do."

In the following three weeks, Brian would learn how true that statement had been. Even though his Becoming was not the prolonged agony poor Owen was still going through, the pain of the changes was bad enough. The knife-sharp hunger of still starving tissues stabbed him again and again, the gut-wrenching pain sending him to near-frenzy several times, but Alain was there to catch him every time, and each wave was just a tiny bit easier to bear than the one before.

"You're doing well," Alain declared, kissing him unhurriedly.

"I don't feel well," Brian growled, fighting his increased aggressivity, the Wild as the vampires called their very nature. Sharpened senses, intensified feelings, both the good and the bad, weren't easy to get under control. Especially for him who'd had control issues all his mortal life.

"You're still changing," Alain replied. "It takes time for the process to be completed. Believe me if I say that you're doing better than most of my Childer have ever done."

"You mean you have more than just Oliver and his lover boy?" Brian inquired, suddenly curious about any potential undead siblings.

"I used to," Alain answered, his grief palpable. "They're all dead now; have been for over a century. You're the first I've truly chosen to Embrace. Oliver and his partner were a convenience for Angelus, though they were willing enough. They have each other, in mutual bond, and don't need – or want – anyone else."

"And Sarina?" Brian asked, as his Sire and the girl seemed close enough.

"Sarina isn't mine," Alain explained. "Rebecca Lowell Embraced her, out of a whim, then abandoned her when she got bored. I was asked to take her into foster care for the Prince – Angelus had known her from her mortal days – and since I needed his favour, I did as he bade."

"Why did you need a favour?" Brian was a little flabbergasted. Alain sighed.

"I wasn't trusted. Everyone knew I had lived with Yitzhak for years, and very few believed that I didn't know he was with the Sabbat. In fact, I was accused of being with the Sabbat myself. The Justicars chased me through the whole Europe; I had to come to LA to survive. This is a Free Anarch State where the Justicars have no jurisdiction. Victor vouched for me before the Conclave, but the other Primogens didn't really trust me. So, the Prince's favour was very important for me."

"And what now?" Brian asked. "Do they still not trust you?"

"Some of them might not," Alain said. "But the important people know my by now, and that's what counts. My Childer got accepted by Prince and Conclave – you've no need to worry."

"I'm not worried," Brian said, making himself more comfortable in his Sire's arms, "but these concepts aren't exactly easy to adjust to."

Like the concept of becoming more intimate with a woman than he'd ever been with any of his friends or bedmates. While his relationship to Bethany had nothing sexual in it, the sheer sensuality of feeding from her excited his senses beyond imagination, and her creamy white neck, when she threw her head back in pleasure while he drank from her, the single most erotic sight he could imagine. This was a whole new level of connection, one he could have never imagined. It was sensual and physical, completely asexual and yet beyond what casual sex could ever be. A new kind of existence.

"Once you've done Becoming, I'll teach you how to hunt," Alain said, catching some of his thoughts through their link. "You mustn't become dependant on volunteers, even though there are places, safe and clean ones, where you'll always find blood dolls. It would be even more dangerous to become dependant on one blood donor – given enough time, it would make you incapable of feeding from anyone else. Besides, we're predators – though ethical ones, at least those of us with the Camarilla. The Hunt is part of our nature… and you of all people have enough predatory instincts in you by design to enjoy it."

That was probably very true, Brian silently admitted, feeling dark excitement filling his whole being. It seemed to him that his mortal life had been nothing else but a long preparation for what he was always supposed to become: a creature of the night, a born predator who preyed on the weak, who took what he wanted and was willing to pay the price.

It might sound morally ambiguous, but the hypocritical morals of the Kine didn't concern him anymore. He got on top of the food chain now, and all he had still to be wary of were his fellow predators, the older and stronger ones of his kind.

He knew it would take time to learn all the intricacies of the undead society; the new set of rules by which he'd have to play in the future. But time was something he'd have aplenty now, without the burden and advancing age – and he was willing to learn.

The End – for now