The Tremere

(Note: for the purposes of visualization, actor Robin Atkin Downes (Byron, the lead telepath in Babylon 5) is cast in the part of Thorne Severan, and Roy Dupris (Michael in La Femme Nikita) is cast in the part of Davic Ellysson.)  

Hunter had never, in his six hundred-some years, been happier.  His wings folded carefully to his broad back, he crouched before the great, massive chair by the fireplace, his grey, scaly head obediently positioned between the legs of the tall man who sat at leisure in the chair.  This was where Hunter belonged now, on his knees, the cock of the Kindred he called Master in his mouth.  "Master" was Thorne Severan, the leader of the Tremere chantry here in California, and this was their new home in Richmond, California, in a sprawling twelve room mansion overlooking the north end of the San Francisco Bay.  And Hunter had never been happier.

Severan was not thinking a lot about his Gargoyle pet, perusing a batch of letters in his hands, copies of the ones already submitted to the Prince of San Francisco who must be convinced to allowed the Tremere to settle here.  But every once in a while his hand fell to the large head and patted it absently.  And a few times, when Hunter got eager and wanted to suck on the luscious offering in his mouth, Thorne would chide him gently and remind him that he was required only to hold it, not give him pleasure.  Not... yet.  When so reminded, Hunter would wriggle unhappily, his own massive piece of meat a huge iron rod between his legs.

Normally Thorne only allowed Hunter further privileges when the Gargoyle was given permission to shift from his beastly aspect to a human-appearing one... if one could call a 6'8" hulk of a man with black bushy hair on head and nearly as much on his burly arms... human.  Until given that permission, Hunter was required to be available to the Tremere - all of them - in whatever way was requested.  To that end, Hunter was only allowed to wear a short leather kilt.  If a Kindred wanted his cock or his ass, it was available.

He'd never been happier.

Thorne, wearing only a long black robe with a fur collar, set the letters aside when another Kindred walked in, and straightened in interest, a smile coming easily to his sensuous lips.  "Davic, my dear... well?"

Severan's second among the Tremere Kindred here, Davic Elysson, met his master's smile, matching it.  "The letters are delivered," he murmured, leaning in close to brush his lips across the other's.  "We should be hearing from Luna soon regarding your appointment with him, Sire.  He can't refuse to see you.  The Toreador get one whiff of us, they'll be pouting and whining until he can't stand it."  He grinned, then knelt down on one knee, laying a hand on Severan's thigh, and the other on the burly back of the Gargoyle.

A long, graceful hand rose from the sleeve of the robe to cup the cheek of the other Tremere.  "And you did make sure that word got around?"

Davic sighed, turning his head to kiss the hand at his cheek.  "Of course.  You push their buttons so well I'm surprised I wasn't followed back here."  He laughed.  "Maybe I was."

Thorne drew back a fold of long, silky hair from his eyes as his smile deepened.  "You have done well, my childe.  Perhaps you're ready for a reward?"

The other Tremere, who was nearly as tall though Thorne's opposite in color, possessing coal-black hair but pale skin even after feeding, grinned, his hand shifting down towards the Gargoyle's ass.   "Oh, yeah... say, Hunter, may I see what you have in your mouth there, big guy?"

Chuckling, Thorne shifted his position, opening his legs wider as Hunter scuttled over a bit to the side so that Davic could see.

"Fuck, that's so hot," Davic groaned, seeing the Gargoyle look up at him with those puppy gray eyes, his mouth full of delicious Tremere cock.  "Hunter, old man, I think you need your other end stuffed too.  What do you think?"

The slate gray eyes brightened and he waggled his ass eagerly as the Tremere's eyes gleamed.  Davic slapped him on the behind, then flipped the leather skirt out of the way so he could feel up the creature's crack.  He exchanged a smirk with his master, and then laughed when he discovered that Hunter was already "stuffed" with a plug.  He waggled it, causing the Gargoyle to giggle around the cock still in his mouth.  "Thorne, may I?"

The Tremere primogen gave him a sly, sensuous smile, was prepared to answer, but abruptly his expression changed when he sensed the approach of another.  As Davic and Hunter gaped at him, he gently pushed the Gargoyle off him and stood, sweeping his robe around him.  "Wait, Vic," he murmured, then turned to face the door.

There was a knock.  At Severan's nod, Davic went to open it.  Hunter, who'd also sobered an instant after seeing his master's demeanor change, stood with crossed arms a step ahead of the primogen in a protective stance.

Ellysson opened the door.  It was the Tremere who headed the business aspect of what they presented to the mortal world, their medical research corporation.  "Come in, Frederic," Thorne sighed.  He glanced aside; Hunter was still sporting his massive erection.  At the glance, the Gargoyle smiled and winked.  Then, because the visitor was Tremere and one of their order, he retreated to one of the long windows flanking the room, facing away from them.

Frederic Kynd, though not as inclined toward sensuality as his primogen or many of the others, was nevertheless well used to it, and was only wary that he'd interrupted his lord's pleasures.  "Master, excuse me for interrupting..."

"Come to me, Frederic," Thorne broke in, his handsome face impassive.  He nodded to Davic who asked by gesture if he should stay.

Frederic crossed the room to him, then dropped to one knee.  "Lord," he murmured, taking Thorne's hand and pressing his lips to it.

Suddenly an iron grip was hauling him to his feet.  "You will not call me that in this city," Thorne snapped at him, his violet eyes smouldering.  "I am *not* Pontifex here, as I've told you.  I am Regent only, master of this chantry. This is Luna's city, and his hand will be the only one kissed, and you will only call him 'Lord'.  Elsewhere in California is different, as Lord Belyde has yielded this state to me while he rules Tremere in the rest of this region.  But we are in San Francisco now."  He squeezed the man's wrists tighter, causing him to gasp.  "Our Prince, if he will have us, is Julian Luna."

"Yes, M...Master!" Frederic gasped, ducking his head, abashed that he had forgotten.

But an iron finger was tipping his head up by the chin.  "Much better, Freddie, dear," Thorne murmured, his voice softening.  "I know, sweet, you get so wrapped up in your little executive office, that you forget..."

"No, Master," Kynd said quickly, but he didn't dare pull away from the finger.  Wanted it, wanted the touch of their Regent.

"Of course not," Thorne continued, his voice slipping into soothing tones.  Across the room, Hunter and Davic exchanged glances, enjoying their leader's art of manipulation, sharing the moment.

The long fall of dark blonde hair covered about a third of Thorne's handsome face, enough to look seductive.  "I'm relying on you to maintain the image we must present, Freddie..."

"Yes, Master," Frederic sighed, and when Thorne smiled, he was able to match it.

"You're going to be in the public eye a lot, Freddie."  Thorne released his grip on the other's wrist, then slid one hand around his waist, the one at his chin slipping around to the back of his head, twisting gently through the collar-length dark brown hair.  He glanced over the man's shoulder at Davic, who nodded and approached them.

"Julian Luna is our Prince.  I will keep that in mind constantly, Master."  Frederic sighed at the handling.  This close to the Tremere lord to whom he was blood bonded, he felt the siren call of the other's blood, beginning to ache for it.

But he was not to taste that elixir, not today, for his error did not warrant reward.  "Yes, well, we must fix that thought firmly in your mind, Freddie," Thorne said, drawing the other closer.  A smile spread over his face again, and then he pulled Frederic against him and kissed him deeply.

The Tremere, who would function as the CEO of their corporate entity, the Kynd Research Group,  responded eagerly to the kiss.  He whimpered a little when Thorne pulled away and turned him toward the window.

"Freddie, sweet, to help you remember, please go over there and take care of poor Hunter?  He's been denied pleasure all day."

The Gargoyle turned then.  He was still hard.  Frederic blinked once but there was no other reaction on his face.  "Of course, Master, thank you," he replied quickly.  It wasn't as pleasant as getting fucked by his master, but it was better than being subjected to one of Thorne's pet rituals.  But then it wouldn't do for a Kindred who had to face the public often to have to endure a missing eye until he could regenerate a new one.

Once Kynd was on his knees before the Gargoyle, sucking at the massive staff for all he was worth, Thorne beckoned to his second to approach him the rest of the way.

"The government grants are in," Severan murmured after exchanging a quick kiss with his favorite.  "So we only await Luna's word."  He'd of course taken the information already from Frederic.  Despite the noises coming from the other side of the room, and his arm around Davic's waist, he was focused and businesslike.  It was characteristic for Thorne Severan to mix business with pleasure, and he could engage in both simultaneously without breaking concentration on either.

"Nosferatu are probably already watching, Thorne," Davic whispered, leaning his head against him.  "Seven of us, per your instructions, are in place under the Veil of Ardis, gathering what knowledge we need to know of the clans here.  They will return in the morning."  The Veil of Ardis was a Tremere magick that enabled them to pass among other Kindred undetectable as Kindred.  The effects lasted twelve hours.

"Yes, I know, love," Thorne sighed.  For all his desire for his own kind, he knew he had work to do, and had little time for indulgence, even with his ardent Vic.  "I will require you, Selsor, and Del to scry with me at midnight.  Place Hunter and Amethyst on skywatch.  We must learn all we can quickly.  Until Luna accepts us, we must consider that we are all but outlaws.  And we will be treated as same."

Davic sighed as well, thinking he would vastly prefer returning to Manchester, England and fanatical Ventrue there to enduring the suspicions and ire of Brujah and Gangrels here in this strange city.  But he would endure it gladly for his beloved master, for Thorne whom he loved deeply, blood-bond or no.

A shout from the other side of the room interrupted their mental exchange, and the two Kindred turned to look.  The Gargoyle was clutching the head of the Kindred on knees before him, who still sucked enthusiastically on his cock, though the mouthful of cum leaked out the sides of his mouth and down his chin.  "Good, so good," Hunter gasped, then released Frederic, who sagged back on his heels looking a bit worse for wear, though he was smiling.

Though the Tremere had created Gargoyles, this modern branch treated them rather differently than their forebears had, respecting their physical strength and simple honesty and wisdom.  And it was Thorne's personal dictate that they be enjoyed... and allowed to enjoy.  They were not Kindred, were not equals, but they were cherished none the less.  Over the ages their intelligence had steadily increased so that now they could match most mortals.  Thorne had personally developed the particular blood magick that had enabled the Gargoyles to shape-shift into human form.

Hunter shivered with pleasure as his master spoke directly to his mind, not an everyday occurrence.  "Yes, Master, thank you, Master," he murmured, then scooped Frederic up in his arms and departed from the room with him.

When the doors closed again, Davic fell with a deep sigh into his sire's arms.  "May I please, please, please call you Lord in private, Sire?" he whispered into his ear.

Thorne stroked his hair, then held him apart so he could meet his eyes.  "Now, Vic, you know how I feel about fairness."  He smiled and kissed his childe, then cupped his cheek in his hand.  "I am no one's lord while in this city, my love, not even yours.  We are seeking to establish a new home here, and that means allegience to this city's rightful prince.  Belyde told me that Luna is a fanatic about keeping the Masquerade intact here, which is well, as I am also.  Once I assure him that I not only have no designs on his city, but am sincere in my desire to join him to uphold the stability of the Camarilla here, then we can accomplish our goals.  Before then, the nonsense we will likely have to put up with will be a distraction.  The Arcanum is our most important work, and we need focus to develop it as the Council desires."

"And Tremere," Davic whispered, leaning into the hand on his cheek.

[Yes, Sire...]  Davic looked into the cold violet eyes of the Tremere who'd Embraced him, and shivered.  It was true that the Founder had longer spells of awareness in these times, but that knowledge was not known by the entire Clan.  It was Davic's private theory that Thorne was in fact looking for a cure for the Founder's usual torpor - a condition left when Tremere destroyed an Antedeluvian when he did not know any better - but he knew better than to ask about that.  Thorne was adept at shielding his mind and what could be learned from his blood.  Davic was aware there were... secrets.

Then Thorne was pulling him against his body again.  It had touched him that his favorite had asked to call him by his proper rank in private.  But he could not make a single exception.  Nothing was more important right now than assuring Julian Luna that the Tremere Order of the Knives accepted him as their Prince in all things.  And... there were other concerns.

[Beloved, there are more things worrying me tonight,] Thorne whispered into the mind of his childe. [I sense... others... also new to the city.  I can get directions so far, no more.] Within his mind he shared an image he'd caught while engaging in the ritual Spirit Flying a few days ago.  Wolves with silver eyes - those would be Kindred, of course, but other wolves with odd gold-green eyes.  Just two, snarling viciously.  A threat?  And other spirit animals were there, a raven, a black jaguar, and another wolf, not of their kind.  Representations of mortals?  Something about that jaguar...

He kissed Davic deeply, passionately, the only indulgence he could afford to allow himself.  He would need power tonight.    

At midnight, four Tremere gathered in the circular room in the center of the mansion.  Thorne welcomed his two assistants, Selsor and Del Anchene, with a brief caress and a kiss, and Davic welcomed his sister and brother in a similar manner, with extra warmth for Del with whom he shared a bed when Thorne was gone or busy cementing bonds with other clan members.  Selsor, a voluptuous woman with thick golden-brown tresses, was the next oldest member of the chantry after Thorne.  Despite her age and experience, she had no desire to help Thorne lead the chantry, leaving that for Thorne's own childe, Davic.  She preferred to concentrate entirely on her magickal practices, though she assisted Thorne in rituals frequently.

They set about the Ritual of Farsight immediately...

High above the Bay, the Gargoyle complied, yielding his mind and sight to the Tremere primogen easily out of long practice.  Now Thorne saw what he saw.  When the Tremere gave him direction, Hunter arrowed down, heading for a small peninsula sticking out into Richardson Bay, across from San Francisco proper...

A stately Victorian house stood there on the end of the peninsula, looking out over the bay.  And power emanated from it.  Thorne reached to clasp forearms with Selsor, his closest match in power, the physical connection reinforcing their mental one.

As they watched, a figure in black departed from the house.  The figure stood for a moment, and Thorne got a sudden impression that it was about to launch itself at the sky.  A Kindred??  Then the man froze and turned his gaze upwards... looking directly at Hunter, who should still have been invisible.

[Come, dark flyer, come to me,] came the diamond-sharp thought of the being on the ground, the low, sepulchrous voice intoning deep into the psyche of the Gargoyle.

[Hunter, away!] Thorne cried, cursing aloud as he realized his terrible error.  Hunter was only invisible to Kindred, not to any others with the power to see far in the night, such as...

Then the man had turned, his piercing gaze arrowing straight across toward the Tremere chantry, as if he could look straight into the chantry house at his observers.  A flick of immense power, and the Tremere watchers were shaken back into normal sight, the Ritual broken.

To his horror, Davic opened his eyes to discover Selsor collapsed, unconscious, and Thorne huddled on the floor, trembling.  Del and Davic hastened to assist their leader when he struggled to his feet.  The primogen recovered quickly, shrugging them off as he went to examine Selsor.  "There is something very old there, not Kindred, my children."  He sighed in relief as Selsor began to rouse.

"Some other kind of immortal creature?" Davic asked.

When Selsor was on her feet again, leaning on Del, Thorne turned to him.  "Yes.  I saw his face.  I know him."

"What was he, Master?" Del asked, holding a still-trembling Selsor.

"A vampire," Thorne replied, then smiled.  [The wolf with the golden eyes,] he added privately to Davic, excited to have found a piece for their puzzle.  "It is known there are... others... not Camarilla, not Sabbat, who live on the blood of mortals and live forever.  They are far fewer than we because they cannot blend into mortal society as we can.  I wonder if Julian knows..."

"We should reconstruct the Ritual again," Selsor said, taking deep breaths to steady herself.  Their Regent, who would have taken the brunt of the rejection's power, seemed to be completely recovered.

"We cannot," Thorne murmured thoughtfully.  "We have already revealed ourselves to this vampire once.  He may be benign, he may actually friendly, or he may be a worse threat to the Masquerade than the Sabbat would in this city."

"Benign!"  Selsor exploded.  "He broke our Ritual!"

Severan shrugged, still smiling.  "We were spying on him, he didn't like it.  He might have been able to do worse, we don't know."

"Who is he?" Del asked.

But the Tremere primogen only shook his head.  He was not willing to reveal that yet, even to his own, perhaps only to Julian Luna, until he had a chance to learn more on his own.

There were no more words spoken.  The Tremere set about putting the ritual room back to rights, then departed for their own quarters.

"Where are you going, Sire?" Davic inquired as Thorne dressed to go out, wrapping himself in a black cloak.  The younger Tremere interfered with his elder's preparations as much as possible, expressing with mouth and hands how much he wanted his sire to take him.

Laughing, Thorne gave his ardent child a quick grope then put him off reluctantly.  "Out, silly," he chuckled, then sobered a little.  "Hunter is out there and I need to find him.  I will send Amethyst to you.  Please tend to her?"

Picturing the lithe, petite Gargoyle, her hide a softly rippling silvery purple, Davic nodded with a smile.  The delicate Amethyst was a stark contrast to her more burly elder, Hunter, and it was a difference Davic Ellysson enjoyed.

Thorne patted his childe's cheek with amusement in eyes and voice.  "Do kick her out of bed at daybreak, though, Vic.  I'm likely to be rather... demanding... of you when I return."

Davic still felt the thrill of those words long after his master had departed.

(The end - saga to be continued in "Tortured")