by Soledad Cartwright
A Swordfeast universe story.
Timeline: about a year after ''Finally''.
Fifth part of the Cameron-storyline, follows my own SWF-story ''Blood Relatives''.
Disclaimers: None of the ''Kindred''-vampires belong to me, and the background situation and the Richmond Tremere belong to the Swordfeast Universe. Cameron's bloodline, however, was created by me. I took his ancestors from the Brujah genealogy on the web-site White Wolfe Online. Some of the blood relations are authentic, others I simply made up. All the L.A. Kindred can be found in my original stories of the ''Pathways in the Dark'' universe, as well.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was an hour after sunset when the Land Rover with the tinted glasses arrived at the huge, beautiful Californian-Spanish mansion in the Western City of Angels. The youthful-looking Spanish driver stopped the car at the front gate and spoke shortly to someone through the intercom system. A few seconds later the heavy iron gate opened tonelessly and the car was parked near the front door.
A trim, slender woman, seemingly in her late twenties, answered the bell. She was clad in black leather pants and jacket, with a black t-shirt under it, her long, platinum-blonde hair was bound into a tight knot on the nape of her neck. ''Alonzo!'' She smiled delightful, kissing the chief bodyguard with the familiarity of long-time lovers; then she turned her piercing blue eyes to Cameron. ''Is he...?''
''Yeah'', Solace grinned, ''he is.''
The woman, to Cameron's utter surprise, took him in a tight embrace and kissed him on the cheek. ''Welcome home, little brother! Glad to finally meet you. I'm Allison. Come with me, all of you, Salvador is waiting and his patience is running thin.''
Cameron obediently followed them into a very large and very stylish living-room that clearly proved its owner's Spanish origins - and his wealth. In fromt of the fireplace several people were sitting around a beautifully carved coffee table, drinking red wine from crystal goblet and talking casually. The eldest of them, a tall, strong, dark-haired man with an oval face and obsidian eyes, stood and came to meet them.
Cameron gulped nervously. He was huge, his grand-Sire was, with broad shoulders that filled impressively his dark-red silk shirt, his easy movements told of great physical strength, even in Kindred terms, and that made Cameron wince. Ever since Thorne had made him his personal fucktoy, he felt uncomfortable around men who were that much bigger than he was.
Salvador Garcia, Minister of the Western City of Angels, former Anarch leader and now Brujah Primogen of Los Angeles, took a good, sharp look at the young man standing in front of him. He liked what he saw. Cameron was a good head shorter than him or his eldest son, also present, maybe 5'10'', with a slender build and a narrow, angular face, but there was strenght beneath that fragile appearance - or, at least there had been once. Right now, the big, liquid eyes were broken, without as much as a spark of fire, and the soft mouth [made for kissing, he thought involuntarily] was pressed together into a thin, defensive line. He could absolutely understand why Sorrel had made the boy on the first place, but he also could see that the kid had been severely damaged by that twice-cursed warlock. Maybe irreperable. But he had to try; they had to try to fix him. Al his Childer and their Childer agreed with him in that.
First of all, the kid needed to feel welcomed and accepted by his family. He had to lean to trust them, before they could hope to try healing him. Salvador quickened his steps slightly, reaching out for the kid, took his thin face in large hands and kised the high forehead with all the ceremoniality of a mafia don kissing a favourite son. ''Welcome home, hijo mio. We're all glad to have you with us. Now, with your Sire gone, his bane doesn't weight on you any more. You're one of us again. You're mine.''
Cameron almost flincghed away from the large hands, but turned quickly turned into putty in the warm, fatherly embrace. No one had hugged him that way for a very long time... ever since his mortal father died when he was only fifteen. Sure, Sorrel loved him, but that was the fondness of a master for his thrall, not the love ofa father for his son... the very thing he craved for, he agreed to be Embraced for. He didn't mind the sex part of it... well, he actually could have enjoyed it - if there had been anything else on Sorrel's part. But it wasn't, and he knew that. It just had been too painful to admit.
So he stuck to his illusions. Hell, he'd have done anything is Sorrel had hugged him the way his grand-Sire did right now. If his Sire had shown him his acceptance. But he could never do well enough for Sorrel. No matter how hard he tried, he was never good enough for his grumpy Sire. Not smart enough, despite his excellent results at university, not hard enough against his foes, not willing enough in bed... never good enough, no matter how hard he tried, hoe desperately he loved him... He felt the long-surpressed tears break free, not able to control the wrecking sobs that shook his bruised body.
Salvador stared down in shock at the young man breaking down completely in tears in his arms. He'd never thought things were this bad with the boy. There had to be more than just the warlock's sick dominance games. That old fool Sorrel... what had he done to this kid? He tightened his arms around the thin frame of the sobbing boy [he'd only been in the Dark for eleven years, for Caine's sake, hardly more than a fledgling, and had to go through so much already, it almost broke Salvador's heart], kissing the top of his head repeatedly, murmuring soft, meaningless words of comfort, not caring that the red tears damaged his expensive shirt. Clothes could be repleaced. But he seriously started to doubt if they'd be able to fix all the damage the kid had taken during the recent decade or so. The deep sobs slowly calmed down and Cameron went suspiciously quiet in his arms. Salvador lifted the boy's chin worriedly. The dark eyes were shut tightly, the soft lips pressed together once again. Then the boy went completely limp. ''Help me!'' Salvador shouted. ''He went into torpor, all of the sudden!''
His favourite daughter, Gloria Martinez hurried to his side and took Cameron from him. She was a doctor, well versed bot in Kindred and human physiology, best qualified to decide what might have been wrong. ''Let's lay him down on the sofa'', she instructed her sibs, ''so that I can take a look at him.'' She examined the unconscious young man as well as she could, under the circum-stances, getting more and more concerned every minute. ''There is a lot of damage'', she concluded finally. ''Aside of a complete emotional break-down, he is severely malnourished... and I suspect a great deal of injuries that haven't healed properly, partly because of the malnutrition, partly because they weren't properly tended - or were torn up again and again, before they could have healed completely.''
''What kind of injuries?'' Salvador asked, his eyes taking on a silver glow.
Gloria looked up at him with a sad expression, pointing at Cameron's exposed chest that was striped with angry red marks. ''The sort people would usually suffer during very sick SM-games, Sire.''
''Whip marks?'' Salvador asked quietly, studying the ugly sight.
Gloria nodded. ''It had to be some whip, that he hasn't healed yet. And there are serious burn marks, too, both from fire and holy water'', she pointed to several horrible wounds. ''Some of them went all the way, til the bones. Not the mention the marks of knife play... look... he must have been carved up like a roast, layer by layer, and not that long ago, as it seems.''
At this point Matt Doyle, the youngest member of the family, ran out to the washroom and threw up. The imagination was too much for him, even with years of police duty under his belt.
''Is that all?'' Salvador asked, his voice deadly calm. His Childer knew that tone. It meant, somebody was going to die for this, slowly and very, very painfully. Salvador was a very creative man in this department.
Gloria shook her head. ''That's only what I can see on the surface. But I'm pretty sure he'd been raped over and over again. Remember how he almost shrieked away from your touch. I can't be absolutely sure, of course, until I've examined him in the inside, but that's a fairly evident suspicion.''
''Then do examine him'', Salvador ordered.
''No, Sire'', Gloria said. ''Not yet, not when he's unconscious and certainly not without his permission. We can't humiliate him like that. Not even in order to help him healing faster. His body is in a really bad condition, but that's nothing compared to his emotional state. We have to be very, very careful.''
''I understand'', Salvador thought for a minute. ''What's your recommandation? You're the doctor, after all.''
''Well, first we need to give him a herbal bath and tuck him in bed'', Gloria answered, looking at Allison and their eldest sister, Valeria. ''I think he'd be more comfortable with us, women, for quite some time. The we'll keep him in bed and watch him. He absolutely mustn't be left alone in these first weeks, not until he's fought himself through to some sembalance of inner stability.''
''We can do that'', Allison said, and Valeria nodded. They already liked the young man... and felt terribly sorry for him.
''It's gonna be more than just sitting on the bedside'', Gloria warned. ''We'll have to crawl to bed with him and hold him all the time so he can feel protected and safe. I did some research on his mortal life and know that his mother died in childbirth and his father when he was fifteen. We'll have to rebuild a childhood, a safe home he's never really had, if we want to push him throuigh this crisis. Otherwise, it would be more merciful to simply put him out of his misery.''
Allison shook her head, determined. ''No way! We gonna lay with him and hold him and make love to him if necesary and as long as it's necessary. He's ours, our baby brother, we can't let him down like everybody else has done.''
''Agreed'', Valeria nodded, then looked at her husband and Brood-brother. ''Are you O.K. with this, Carlito?''
The tall, handsome Australian aristocrat nodded. ''Allison is right. He's ours, we have to heal him and protect him. You're my wife, not my slave, Valeria Annunciata. I love you more than anything, and you know I don't share easily, but he needs us. All of us. If he's ready to accept the love of a man again, I'd like to show him what it means to be loved.'' He gave his Sire a half-smile. ''I had the best teacher, after all.
Salvador smiled back. He respected the privacy of his married Childer, but he still missed Carlyle from his bed sometimes. ''Well, he'll be in for a treat'', he answered, teasing. ''I ve never had a male lover quite like you, Carlito... except from Alonzo, that is'', he added, patting the gorgeous ass of his long-time friend and lover fondly.
''That is a long way from here'', Gloria said. ''I won't recommand any man even to touch him right now. He'd be freaking out.
''He didn't freak out when I hugged him'', Salvador reminded her.
''No, but he looks at you as a father figure... possibly an idealized one'', Gloria said. ''So be fatherly for the time being, will you? He needs a great deel of reassurance. By the way, are you planning on adopting him, just as you've done with Miguel?''
''Absolutely. I'd have done it years ago, had I known of his existence. But it doesn't mean I have to get intimate with him. I never touched Miguel that way.''
''Miguel didn't need it, either. But sooner or later, he will need you to take him.''
''Why?''
''He's an abused child, Sire. Being taken is the only sort of love he knows, no matter how sich and twisted it is. You don't Claim him, he'd never believe you've accepted him.''
''That is sick'', Salvador growled. He'd have loved to take the kid in his bed, he was sweet and oh so beautiful, but the thought of inflicting him the same pain, physically and emotionally, he'd been enduring all his unlife, turned the stomach of the patriarch upside down.
''Sorrel was a sick bastard'', Carlyle commented grimly. ''If he weren't dea already, I'd stake him and leave him burn in the sun for what he's done to this kid. We have to thank Luna, eventually.''
''For massacring half of our blood relatives?'' Valeria asked acerbically.
''That was as much Sorrel's fault as it was Archon's'', Salvador said. ''I told him not to mess up with the Prince, we all tried to explain him that he'd no chance against someone who'd held the City for more than a century. We were losing the damn war against the Ventrue in San Francisco, but he just had to push his luck. Not that Archon wasn't to blame; he was just as sick a bastard as Sorrel himself... and this kid managed to kill him single-handedly.''
''He does have great promise'', Carlyle agreed. ''But we have to keep him close for a long while.''
''That we have to do'', Gloria pulled a syringe out of her doctor's bag and filled it from a vial with an opaque liquid. ''I'm gonna wake him now... and he'll have to feed.''
''I'll bring some more bloodwine'', Allison stood, but Gloria stopped her.
''No, Ally, it won't do him any good'', she looked at Salvador. ''With his Sire gone, your Vitae is the only thing that really could help him heal... at least physically.''
''Then that's what he'll get'', Salvador started rolling up his sleeve, but Gloria caught his hand.
''Sire... could you let him feed from your neck? I think he'll need that sort of intimate contact... the assurance that he's been accepted as a Childe of your family. I know you don't like doing that, but...''
''This is a different matter'', Salvador interrupted, opening his collar. In fact, he only let his Childer feed from his neck on he peak of a sexual encounter; otherwise he always offered them his wrist when they needed his Vitae for healing. But he understood very well how it would be helpful for Cameron.
''Thank you'', Gloria smiled and rammed the needle into Cameron's arm with the practiced ease of a nurse; she used to be one before pickign up her studies againd and became a doctor.
A few minutes later Cameron opened his bleary, swollen eyes and looked up into the soft, lovely face of a woman bening over him. She had wide, hazel eyes and thick, long, silky hair of the colour of autumn leaves, turned into a French twist. She was also petite and softly rounded on all the right places.
''Welcome back'', she said; her voice, too, was soft and mellow and had a slight Mexican accent. ''I'm Gloria. How are you feeling?''
Cameron swallowed. His mouth felt dry like sandpaper, every spoken word was an extra torture. ''Weak... and Thirsty.''
''Those are things we can fix'', the deep voice of his grand-Sire said, and the large frame of Salvador Garcia lowered onto the floor next to the sofa. ''Come here, Childe. You have to Feed.''
The big arms gathered the young man, lifting him from the couch, and before he realized what weas happening, he was being settled onto Salvador's lap like a toddler. The collar of the burgundy red silk skirt was wide open, and his grand-Sire tilted his head, baring his troath for him. ''Come on, Childe'', the deep voice purred while the strong arms held im in a safe, protec-tive hug. ''Come, take what's yours. Drink. You need it.''
Cameron felt the hot wave of the Thirst wash over him. It had been days since he fed, and Thorne loved to bleed him every time he had to submit to his sick games. Truth to be told, he was starving slowly, painfully under the iron fist of the Tremere (''fist'' being relative in this context, but not ''iron''). After the sadistic sessions, he was too exhausted and disgusted to go Hunting, not to mention hurt on every inch where a man could hurt, and the bottled stuff just wasn't the same as fresh blood. His Hunger reached desperate levels, without the hope to still it.
Now, he was offered a treatment he couldn't even dream about a day earlier - and he wasn't going to reject the generous offer. In a flash of the Wild, he grabbed the big shoulders of his grand-Sire in a vice-like grip holding on like a drowning man, not realizing that his talons emerged and buried themselves into Salvador's flesh. He started licking the strong column of the offered neck, intoxicated by the scent of the patriarch's powerful blood, luring the big vein closer and closer to the surface. Then his fangs dropped and sank into the jugular.
When the thick, rich dark blood hit his throat, he almost passed out again from the sheer pleasure of it. He'd never tasted anything like that: so sweet, spicy and powerful. He closed his eyes, going up entirely in the incredible sensations, freeding frantically, moaning and whimpering deep in his throat with pleasure, unable to stop ever again. Sorel's blood had been nothing compared to Salvador's... and his Sire had never allowed him such free access. It was life itself. It was heaven.
Salvador's eyes closed, too, when he felt the pleasure of being fed from wash over his whole body and soul. The savage Hunger of the kid hit him like a blow as the Blood Link slowly established itself between them, and then other feelings followed. Feelings of loneliness, desperate craving for being loved and cared for, the deep humiliations from recent times, the struggle to please his unresponsible Sire, the weight of being a Primogen crushing down on the kid's shoulders, the hard fights to clean up Eddie Fiori's mess while the Clan was falling apart in the aftermath...
''Sire'', Gloria's insistent voice reached him between waves of savage enjoyment, ''You have to stop him before he frenzies. He won't be able to control the Beast on his own... not in this weakened state of his.''
Salvador followed the calming voice of his favourite daughter and found himself again. He reached out to the kid through the newly-established link. [That's enough, Childe], he instructed, pushing a mental order along the link, [you Feed like a fledgling... or do you want to such me dry?]
He added another mental push, this time with considerably more power, snapping the kid out of his ecstasy. Cameron slowly withdrew his fangs, licked the wound clean to seal it, but kept his face buried in Salvador's neck, kissing and licking and nuzzling his throath, rubbing himself against the broad chest like a kitten. Salvador stroked his hair and lifted his chin to break the all too intimate contact - with the only result that the kid now latched out at his mouth, kissing and nipping desperately on the thin, hard lips. Salvador felt the familiar heat in the pit of his stomach awakening and new, he'd be rock hard in a minute if he didn't stop this now, the kid tasted so good and was so hungry for love, hungrier than he had been for blood, and the last thing they needed was Cameron offering himself out of some misplaced idea of etiquette.
Fortunately, Gloria always knew when to intervene. She grabbed the kid by the bony sho-ulders and spunned him away for Salvador. ''It's enough, little brother'', she said with mothrly strength. ''You're in no shape for that right now. The stimulant I gave you will wear out in a short time anyway, and you're gonna collapse on the spot. So, no more smoochies for you, until I've sanctioned it. Understood?''
Cameron nodded mutely. Gloria's heart went out for him, because he looked like a frightened child, and reaching out, she touched his face gently. ''You need rest, hermano. Let me take you to your room now.''
Cameron seeked out the eyes of Salvador. The Elder nodded. ''She's right, Childe; besides, she's the doctor, she even outranks me in matters of health. Go with her and let her clean you up; we'll have enough time for anything you want or need later. He sent a reassuring mental promise along their raw link and the kid seemed to calm down, following Gloria sheepishly out of the living-room.
Alonzo Solace grinned at his old friend. ''It seems, Claiming the kid won't be the difficult part of this little arrangement'', he com-mented in his usual mocking manner. ''Keeping your hands from him long enough, on the other hand...''
''Alonzo'', Salvador growled, half-furious, half-aroused, ''you're walking on thin ice here.''
The beautiful Spaniard kept grinning in that infuriating manner, rocking his slim hips provocatively. ''Am I?''
''Definitely.'' Salvador's obsidian eyes darkened even more with fury and passion, like two bottomless pits of living darkness.
Alonzo laughed with a deep and mellow voice that made the hairs on the nape of every man's neck rising with electricity, and swayed his slim body, purring: ''Care to discuss the problem in private?''
''That's it!'' Salvador grabbed the shapely ass of his chief bodyguard through the tight denim of his black jeans. ''You definitely crossed the line. Out!'', he growled at his Childer, who hurriedly left, giggling on their way out. ''And tell Gloria, she'd better stay with the kid for the rest of the day...''
Without waiting for them to close the door, he pulled Alonzo to himself, claiming his mouth in a hard, punishing kiss. Alonzo wrigged enthusiastically, rubbing their groins together. He loved it when Salvador was in this mood - it always led to great, hard sex, with him on the receiving end of it. Alonzo loved women just as well as he loved men, and he was as often the dominant as he was the submissive with his other lovers, but with Salvador, he always did bottom. The power and the red-hot passion of trhe older man always made him want to submit - and he did it, happily.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Outside the door Valeria, Allison and Carlyle shook their heads in an approving manner.
''Our Sire really is the truthful sort'', Allison commented. ''How long have they been together?''
''A century and a half, at least'', Carlyle shrugged. ''And no mater how many other lovers he might choose, at the end he always returns to Alonzo. No wonder, actually, the guy is gorgeous.''
''That I know, first hand'', Allison grinned. ''Come on, let's cath up with Gloria and the kid.''
''You two go'', Carlyle shook his head. ''I don't think my presence would be helpful.''
''Yeah'', his wife and Brood-sister agreed, ''you can be just as intimidating sometimes as Salvador itself.'' She turned to Allison. ''Come, sis. Let's spoil our baby a little.''
The End
