Ambassador

Adult: AMBASSADOR
by Katrin Denton
a Kindred: the Embraced /Forever Knight Crossover
Rated R for m/m sex, some very mild d/s
Part 0/10: In a legal vein
Disclaimers:
Neither the Kindred nor the FK vamps are mine (damn it -- if they were, they would all still be on the air). Forever Knight was created by Cohen and Parriot and is owned by Sony / Tristar / Paragon. Kindred: the Embraced was based on Vampire: the Masquerade by Mark Rein-Hagan and Company at White Wolf Publishing and is owned by Spelling Productions / White Wolf / Republic. No infringement of copyright is intended and I am writing this completely for the pleasure of it, in expectation of absolutely no profit.
Archiving:
Permission granted to the JADFE archives (www.lantabooks.com). Anyone else, please ask first, I like to see where my children wander off to.
Notes:
The KtE canon does not, to my knowledge, say *when* Cash was Embraced, only by whom. I choose to make him only a bit younger than Vachon so that they are peers.
The FK universe does not have the vampire clans, but I like the concept, so I have imposed it upon LaCroix and company. I have chosen to make Vachon a Gangrel primarily due to the nature of his making. According to the "Book of the Kindred" by White Wolf Publishing, Gangrels are notorious for abandoning their fledglings after bringing them across.
Julian's age, according to the KtE canon is only 130, being brought across in about 1856. I always thought that he was much, much too young to have the kind of power that he wields, even if he was Archon's hand-picked successor, so I have made him approximately Nick's age.
In Vampire: the Masquerade (the RPG upon which Kindred: the Embraced is based), Toronto is controlled by the Anarchs, the enemies of the Camarilla, to which Julian owes allegiance. I am assuming that the Anarchs move in only after the events of Last Knight when LaCroix flees the city in grief. (Of course, LK didn't happen, so the Anarchs never move in, but at least I am giving a nod to the canon since I have messed with it so much elsewhere <<G<;>)
Time line:
Third season of Forever Knight before "Fever" and before "The Rise and Fall" on Kindred: the Embraced.
Acknowledgments:
Expertly Beta read by Sue Whitehorn. (Thanks for firmly curbing my tendency to run on sentences.) This story has been kicking around in my head for a while; a big thank you to Virginia Wilcox for making sure I sat down to put it on paper, and for fixing my continuity problems. (Yes, my lord, <<weg<;>.) They deserve much of the praise, but I take responsibility for any problems.
Feedback, virtual chocolate and male vampires (either Gangrel or Ventrue) to Kat (VladnKatrn@AOL.com). Flames will be forwarded directly to the dragon living in the basement <<G<;>.

AMBASSADOR

Part 1/10: On the Road
Dawn was beginning to light the sky. Not quite even the false dawn yet, but the eastern horizon was beginning to tend to gray instead of the black velvet of the true night.
<<I'm still almost two hours out of Toronto, better start looking for a motel. Fixing that broken drive chain set me back. Oh well, the best laid plans and all that,<;> thought the tired man. The big Harley ate up the miles as the sky lightened. Just when the Harley's rider was about to resign himself to a day in the deep woods, an old style motel appeared beside the highway, the "vacancy" sign blinking a welcome. <<Good, I *hate* sleeping underground.<;>
-----
"I'll need a room for the day, something north facing would be great, I've been on the road all night, dark and quiet would be wonderful." The bored, sleepy clerk handed over the room key to his pale guest, answering, "I'll tell the maid not to disturb you, Room 16 - on the northwest side, around back, quiet as the grave."
Cash smiled to himself as he threw his saddlebags over a muscled shoulder and ran a hand through his short dark hair. <<If you only knew, buddy, If you only knew.>>
-----
Cash stepped back to inspect his handiwork after light proofing the curtains. Safety pins and foil from his pack, the spread from the bed in the room and some strategic pieces of duct tape ensured his safety during the daylight hours. He took one last peek at the parking lot and his bike chained to a tree at the edge of the lot, secured the final corner, snagged a bota of bloodwine off the pile of his possessions and settled in for the day.
He kicked off his boots and sank back against the headboard of the bed. Now that he was safe from the daylight and the stress of travel, he had time to think. This was not exactly a good thing. The assignment he was on and the journey he had undertaken were both hazardous and important.
Flashback - San Francisco, the day before, Julian Luna's office
The Prince of San Francisco, the leader of its vampire community and much of the human underworld of the city, paced behind his desk. The frown marring his forehead made the widow's peak in his dark hair even more prominent.
"Cash, I wish I had an older primogen to take this message, but you are the only one I both trust and can send. Daedalus cannot travel among the mortals, Lillie has responsibilities here, and I don't trust Eddie Fiori, or any Brujah for that matter, any further than I can throw them. What Eddie might do to sabotage an offer of alliance with LaCroix doesn't bear thinking about."
Cash nodded. He hated the Brujah with a clan bred, bone deep hatred; it was so ingrained that he seldom questioned it. As the Gangrel primogen, the leader of his clan, he had to work with Brujah on the council, but he didn't have to like it.
"Offers like this MUST be delivered in person, and since the Gangrels can travel in the wild places where other clans cannot, I have to send you. I don't trust LaCroix, Cash, and Archon doesn't either. You may well be traveling into enemy territory, despite the tradition of hospitality. The fact that you are my bodyguard and companion will make you valuable if LaCroix feels he needs a hostage."
Cash smiled inwardly. <<Companion, if that is what you want to call it. Lover might be a more precise term, and son-in-law of sorts through Sasha.>> "Don't fret so, my prince", he assured Julian, "I will be your ambassador."
The increasing number of Anarchs coming into both cities made an alliance an attractive proposition. The new vampires - young, tough, arrogant and owing allegiance to no one- had caused problems in both cities. Together, the two princes could wield enough power in the Councils of the Camarilla to force action against the unclanned ones.
Daedalus and Archon had prepared the documents; as the eldest of the primogen of San Francisco, they knew the proper forms. There was a formal proposal of treaty and a letter from Julian as the prince. All the documents were hand written in beautiful calligraphy, works of art in and of themselves. Cash, though, had the responsibility of delivering them, of making the formal approach to the Elders of Toronto and their formidable Prince.
<<LaCroix>>, Cash thought <<older even than Archon. He is one of the few of those Elders old enough to be called a 'Methuselah' still active in the world. Most vampires retreat to solitude as they approach their second millennium, but LaCroix is still here, still meddling in the power struggles of the Council. I wonder what it is like to remember Roman times. Compared to him, I am still a fledgling even after 300 years. LaCroix's age and prestige stand unchallenged in the Councils of the Vampires, but Archon doesn't trust him. He says LaCroix excels in betrayals, but we need his approval..>>
Cash broke off his musing, stood and turned to Julian as the prince came around his desk to lay a possessive hand on his bodyguard's shoulder.
"I will miss you, you know, your presence at my back and in my bed." Julian gathered his companion into his hard embrace.
"As I shall miss you, my Prince." Cash rested his head against curve of the other vampire's shoulder for a moment, resting in his lover's arms, the scent of Julian's blood filling his senses. "I wish we had time for a proper good-bye." He smiled as his lips brushed against the Elder's neck, and he felt Julian shiver at the touch.
"AHH, but we *shall* have time for a proper homecoming." Julian replied, the growl of passion in his voice making it a promise as his hand twined hard though Cash's hair, holding him in place for a bruising kiss.
Part 2/10: Into Toronto
Cash entered the city limits of Toronto about three hours after sunset. He was refreshed and ready after a day's rest, plenty of blood from the supplies he had carried, a shower and a change of clothes. The night life was just getting started on the fall evening as he pulled the big Harley up to the Raven. <<The Raven, humm, just like the Haven at home. Funny thing, that, the names of the clubs.>> He noted a couple of other bikes, a nice Norton and a new Triumph parked near the alley and left the Harley next to them. <<Unchained, so it must be safe to leave it here. I guess the bouncer keeps an eye on them, or everyone knows not to touch.>> He lifted the leather saddlebags onto his shoulder, <<But let's not tempt the fates with the rest.>>
He breathed a deep breath, deliberately calming himself and reaching inside to his voluntary blood bond with his Prince. <<Julian, I am here.>> Weakened by the distance, and less intense under all circumstances than the bond between sire and childe, Cash hoped Julian could get more than a sense that he was still alive. <> He forced under a fierce control his fear at being in a strange territory with no clan brothers or sisters at his back. <<Being alone like this, how can the clanless, the caitiff, stand it? This is what my life would have been like without Julian.>>
The bouncer looked at Cash aggressively, this was not a vampire he knew. But the stranger was Gangrel, one of the wanderers. "I have come to pay my respects to the Master of the City," Cash told the young vampire at the door. "Is he within tonight?"
"Yeah, he's here. He goes on the air in about an hour, so you might have to wait".
"Not a problem." Cash answered as the bouncer opened the door to the club for him.
He stood at the top of a slight ramp, leading into the underground nightclub. <<More Goth than the Haven,>> he grinned to himself, glancing at the chains hanging from the ceiling. He made his way toward the bar, gracefully sidestepping a couple of dancers. <<More mortals, too. I wonder what the slang is here for ordering a drink.>>
Cash approached the bar and waited for the bartender to finish up with the mortal customer he was waiting on. A lovely, petite, blond vampire walked up next to him. "I haven't seen you here before. I'm Urs." Cash looked down at her and smiled. Standing this close to her, he could sense that she was a clan sister. She reminded him of Sasha, Julian's niece that he had left behind at home, steel under silk. "No, this is the first time I have been to Toronto. I am here to see LaCroix, if he has the time. My name is Cash."
"Miklos, get Cash here a glass of the House Special. Put it on my tab, please," she directed the bartender. "I will go and tell LaCroix that you are here," she smiled back at the stranger.
Cash sipped at his glass of bloodwine slowly, bracing his back against the bar, his legs wide, watching the dancers and the band on stage. The lead guitarist was good, his shoulder length dark hair swinging around his face as long, talented fingers coaxed a complex rift from the instrument slung from his slim shoulders. Black jeans over black boots and an open black silk shirt made his pale chest shine under the stage lights: ebony over alabaster. <<So wild, untamed.>> He looked up as Urs came back to stand beside him once more.
"That's Vachon, my sire. He's pretty good, isn't he?"
"Very, he could be a Toreador. He's a good musician," replied Cash. <<A Clan Brother here? Yes, the gods are good to me!>> "Does LaCroix have time for me?"
"He asked me to bring you back to his office. He goes on the air with his radio show in about 45 minutes. Will that be OK?"
"That's long enough to introduce myself and to tell him why I am here, I think. Thank you, my sister."
Urs smiled, a quick dimple flashing, at the grave courtesy of the older vampire. "We are not so formal here." She turned to lead him back to the Raven's offices.
"But you deserve it, Urs. Will you save me a dance later? And introduce me to your sire?" Cash asked lightly as he followed her through the crowded bar.
"Of course," she answered, the dimple dancing again in her smile as she knocked on the door of the office. "LaCroix, the newcomer is here to see you."
"Enter, " came a cold voice from the other side of the door.
Cash threw back his shoulders and took a deep breath. He ran a hand over the leather of the saddlebag containing the messages from his prince and council, then placed his hand on the doorknob. <<Julian, my prince, beloved, keep me under your hand.>> Setting his harshest controls in place, he turned the knob.
Urs watched, amazed, as the smiling, flirting young man settled authority around himself like a cloak. <<He is older than I thought, at least as old as Vachon, and very powerful. I wonder why he is here?>>

Part 3/10: In the presence of the Prince
Lucien LaCroix, Eldest of the vampires in the city of Toronto and their Prince, looked up from the playlist he was putting together for his Nightcrawler radio show. Standing in his doorway was a young male vampire, a stranger in his city. The youngster was dressed in black leather: pants, boots, and jacket. A shirt of blood-red burgundy was just visible underneath the jacket's edge. He carried heavy leather saddlebags over one shoulder and the level gaze of his dark eyes conveyed to the elder vampire respect, but no fear.
"How may I help you?" LaCroix's cool voice filled the room.
"My lord, I bear messages from the Prince of San Francisco to you and to your Council."
This was not the answer that LaCroix had expected. He had anticipated only a request to take up residence in the city or to hunt while passing though it. He rose from behind the desk and prowled toward the younger one, who dropped the saddlebags gently from his shoulder onto the chair by the door. "So, are you one of Archon's get?" LaCroix queried in a purring voice, for that elder had been both rival and ally in the power games of the Camarilla.
"No, my lord. But my Prince, Julian Luna, is his. I am the Gangrel primogen of San Francisco, Elder. My line is that of Lupus through Stephen Raynard and I am of the tenth generation. My name is Cash." LaCroix extended his hand toward the younger vampire, who grasped it gently with both his callused hands, and, bowing from the waist, placed his lips against the ring on the elder's hand. Straightening, the younger vampire went on, "My lord, I beg your indulgence. May I dwell in your city until I can present these messages formally? I will hold to whatever rule you impose upon me, unknown to you as I am."
"Archon's lineage, and those under his hand, have always had exquisite manners. I see you are no exception, youngling." LaCroix smiled a wintry smile, extremely pleased at the formal deference displayed by the younger man. <<So many of the youngsters have bad manners, which is worse in some ways than no manners at all.>> "So Archon has stepped down as Prince and his childe now holds that city?"
"Yes, my lord. Julian took his vows before the Camarilla at the Solstice. I stood Shield for him that night." Pride in his prince was evident in Cash's voice as he answered.
LaCroix regarded the younger man with approval. <<Archon and his childe have sent me a worthy ambassador then, this one must be very valuable to the new prince.>> "You may dwell within the bounds of my city for the time it takes me to assemble my councilors and consider these messages and you may hunt at your will, remembering only the Code of the Masquerade. You may also order what you need from the bar here should you chose not to hunt. Do you need a place to stay? There are private rooms in the club."
"There is Clan here, my lord. But if they cannot house me, I am more than content to dwell here beneath your roof."
"Yes, Vachon and his Urs are of your clan, though not your line. She stays here anyway; have her arrange a room should you need one. I shall call the Council of the City for tomorrow night. Be here an hour after sunset."
"At your will, my lord. I shall await your summons in the bar tomorrow at an hour past sunset." Cash bowed again, recognizing a dismissal when he heard one. Picking up his bags, he let himself quietly and quickly out of the room, heading back into the club.
<<That went as well as it could have. I don't catch the scent of treachery that Archon accuses him of having; but then, I have never been his rival,>> Cash thought to himself with relief. <<Gods, I hope I never am; the power just poured off him. I am grateful for Archon's heavy hand in teaching me formal manners as a mere fledgling. Julian's court is somewhat formal, but the most courtly manners were surely the right way to go, despite Urs' telling me that they aren't formal here. I wonder if she remembered to save me a dance?>>

Part 4/10: Inside the Raven
Urs was dancing next to the stage when Cash reentered the club after meeting with LaCroix. Her pale, graceful form flashed in and out of the lights like a bright kestrel hawk darting among the clouds. Cash stood next to the bar, admiring Urs and missing Sasha. His links to Julian, his vowed loyalty, his long-standing love of the man himself and his new, unexpected love for Julian's niece braided together within him, focusing a pang of homesickness. <>
As the set came ended, the lead guitarist that Cash had noticed earlier spoke over the sound system. "Time for the band to take a break, but we'll be back in about 15 min. Get yourself something from the bar and relax, folks." <<He has an ever so slight Hispanic accent. Well, that goes with the hair and the eyes,>> Cash thought to himself.
Urs reached out to stop her sire as he left the stage. "Javier, there is someone here who wants to meet you."
Vachon smiled down at his golden daughter. She had become so much more settled since they came to Toronto, more in touch with the vampire within her, more at peace. Maybe finally she was coming to see this life as a blessing rather than a curse. Normally those of his clan had a very short vampire "childhood" (if any time with their sire at all), but Urs was not a typical Gangrel. She was strong enough, to be sure. No woman who had endured being a prostitute in the Wild West could be weak. But she was unsure of herself, so Vachon kept her close.
"So where is this person?" he teased lightly. "A male person or a female one? A kindred person or a mortal person? How mysterious."
Urs giggled and swatted at his arm. "He is over by the bar. He just came from an interview with the General. Also, he is clan; I can tell he is a Gangrel. He just *feels* like family."
"Interesting, there are not that many of us compared to the rest of the clans."
"He is different. He seems very sure of himself -- at least on the outside -- even though he is away from home. I know we cope with wandering better than the rest of the clans, who all seem to need to settle, but he smells of power and purpose. He said his name is Cash."
"A very mysterious someone, then," Vachon replied seriously. "Let's go talk to him; though I think I may know *of* him at least."
------
Cash looked up from his homeward thoughts as the blond woman he had met earlier walked toward him accompanied by the lead guitarist. Urs slipped her hand trustingly into her sire's and turned to him. "Vachon, may I introduce you to Cash? Cash, this is my sire, Vachon." The two males eyed each other for a long moment, before Vachon extended his hand to the stranger.
"Welcome to the city, brother", Vachon's voice warmed as the clan bond between them asserted itself. Cash remembered Archon's explanation back in the days of his new birth into the life of a vampire.
Flashback - London, England, 1690, the basement of a gentleman's house
"I picked you up off the street, boy. I own you now." Archon growled at the newborn vampire struggling at his feet. "You have endangered us all by your foolishness. Damn your sire; Stevie knows better than to leave a new fledgling."
"Hungry," the newly Embraced Cash growled, feral eyed and wild. He pulled against the chains of hard forged steel that bound him, kneeling, to the wall of this impromptu dungeon.
"I'm sure you are," Archon sighed. The youngster had no control at all and without his sire present to keep him in line, the only option was the chains. However, Archon doubted that the youngster was sane enough at the moment to understand that. The older vampire picked up a pitcher that had been placed on the basement stair. The smell of fresh blood filled the room as he poured the thick red liquid into a cheap clay goblet. "Keep your fangs to yourself and I will feed you, child."
Sanity slipped back into the young man's dark eyes and he stopped struggling against his chains. He settled back a little to ease the pressure on his pinioned arms and nodded once. "Please."
Archon held the cup to the youngster's lips and held it steady as the newborn slaked the burning thirst of the First Hunger. The Hunger had driven him out to hunt mortal prey on this, the first night of his life in the dark. The new vampire hadn't understood how to choose a safe prey from the beggars, drunkard thieves and penny whores, but instead had accosted a gentleman. It was his great good luck that the gentleman in question had been Archon's man of business, and a mortal bonded to the elder vampire. The unvoiced mental cry for help from his mortal friend had brought Archon flying. That cry had resulted in Cash's captivity at Archon's hand rather than the swift death at the hands of the Justicars' Enforcers which most of the newborns of his clan suffered.
--------
Several nights later, his Hunger and Thirst slaked, the beginnings of control of that Hunger learned, Cash sat at Archon's feet in the study upstairs.
"You see, child, very few of your Clan survive their Embrace. Either they go mad from the loneliness of the experience and walk into the sun after a few days, or they are hunted down by the Enforcers because they have no control and little chance to learn that control. But those who have an iron will as a mortal may survive. You throttled down the First Hunger to speak to me, to accept blood from my hands. You will go far within your clan, child. I can tell."
The fire popped in the grate, and the elder vampire leaned forward, intent on the younger man looking up at him.
"The Gangrels are the smallest and most loyal clan except for the clan of the wizards, the Tremere. You will be able to sense a bond with all others of your clan once you are within a few paces of them and over longer distances as you grow older and more powerful. They will automatically be your bothers and sisters. Just their scent will bring you peace and their blood will fill the empty places in your heart. Unless you bond a fledgling of your own and keep him close against the law of your kind, or voluntarily Blood Bond yourself to a Prince, you will never have a closer bond than you do with any member of your clan. It is your Clans' Blessing and its Curse. "
Archon leaned down, placed a hand on either side of the young Gypsy's face and pulled him close, placing a gentle kiss on the upturned brow. "You will be sought out by Princes for that Curse, for unlike the Brujah, what a Gangrel pledges by his clan, he keeps. You will be sought out for the strength of your arm," Archon's hands slipped down to Cash's shoulders and along his arms. "And the purity of your vows. The Gangrel are the bodyguards of Princes and the heart of the Justicars." Archon touched the younger man's chest, just over his slowly beating heart.
The fledgling vampire felt the gentle touch of the elder's hand in his dark hair. "Will you serve my line, Cash? Will you guard my son, my beloved Julian? Will you shield his back for eternity?"
---------
Vachon smiled at Cash, "Weird, isn't it? I know you even though I don't know you. You smell like family, just as Urs said."
Cash smiled, "I know. When I became primogen of the Gangrels in San Francisco it was like coming home after a long journey."
"Urs and I are the only ones of our clan here in Toronto. It's mostly Ventrue here, like LaCroix and his son Nick. He's here tonight, I'll have to introduce you later. Are you going to settle here? Or are you still bound to your clan in 'Frisco?"
"To my clan there, and to my Prince, Julian Luna. He is proposing an alliance in the Council to your LaCroix. I am to present the formal document tomorrow night."
"Not *my* LaCroix, brother, he has no need for a Gangrel guard. He thinks I am a slacker." Vachon grinned. "Want to stay with me tonight? It has been a long time since I shared with a brother."
"Please, I would like that. He offered me a roof here for the day, but I would rather be with my Clan."
"Well, Urs stays here cause she works here, but I know what you mean. She's over at my place almost as much as she is here. I gotta get back to the last set. Catch you in a few, Cash."
Cash admired the prowling quality of his clan brother's walk as he headed back to the stage, and the long clean line of his throat as he drained the glass of bloodwine that Urs handed her sire as he climbed back onto the stage.

Part 5/10: At Vachon's Church
Laughing, the two men parked their motorcycles beside the abandoned church. They had raced side by side along the lakefront and played tag among the slower cars on the highway all the way from the Raven. Cash felt his gypsy blood burn within him and his feral laughter echoed against the stone walls.
"Gods, that was fun, I loved it. I haven't played like that in years. Vachon, you are a crazy man."
"Come on in and have something to drink, old man. You need to loosen up. All that responsibility you have in 'Frisco and all the attending on the powerful ones have made you a dull boy!" Vachon teased his clan brother.
"A church? Vachon, a church!?" Cash inquired as they entered the building.
"Doesn't bother me. Does it get to you?"
"Nope, I don't even swear by the White Christ. I was Romany when I was mortal, and not even nominally Christian. You?"
"Oh, I was brought up a good little Spanish Catholic, but a year with Pizzaro in Peru 'christianizing' the natives and the Inquisitions cured me of that even before I was brought across." Vachon's light answer came echoing back as he led Cash down the stairs.
Coming into the basement room where he spent his days, the Spaniard lit a brace of candles on the candelabra and pulled a couple of bottles of wine-laced blood out of the crate in the corner.
The two young vampires settled down, each with a bottle. Cash curled up in the big overstuffed chair in the corner, Vachon sprawled across his bed. Both had pulled off jackets and kicked off boots in anticipation of a long day of bloodwine and conversation.
"Pizzaro humm?" Cash questioned. "I was brought across in the reign of James the Second, in the English Restoration. What is your line? Mine is Lupus, and my sire, Stevie, was bodyguard to Julian's Sire."
"I don't even know my line, she was a New World vampire. She made me and another, my brother and enemy. Then she destroyed herself in front of us the next morning. I always just call her Dark Angel." Vachon looked past his clan brother into the mist of the past, wondering, as always, why she had kissed him and then turned to the sun.
"That's rough." Cash wondered if he should or even could comfort the other. He looked so sad. "How come Urs is still with you?"
"She needs me and I need her, she is strong enough physically, but I was so lonely, even with Bourbon. I think he might have been out of your line though he never said, and my friend, Screed. You'll like him, crazy carouche, Nosferatu, cockney idiot." Vachon's insulting but loving description of his friend made Cash smile. "He's in Vegas right now, he loves to play the slots." Vachon glanced over, and the two men shared a chuckle at the thought. "The city never sleeps, he loves it."
"There are a couple dozen Gangrel in 'Frisco. But none are of my direct line. Julian is going to give me permission to Embrace a fledgling when I get back - his niece, Sasha. Urs reminds me a lot of her in some ways, but Sasha is not so fragile looking."

"He must think pretty highly of you to give you one of his own descendants." Vachon sounded impressed. Cash regarded his clan-sib sprawled on the bed. <<What must it be like to be so alone? He is all but clanless. Gods, I could not live like that.>>
"I have stood with him from the night of my Embrace. His sire, Archon, kept the Justicars' Enforcers from my throat, when my sire left me alone. You were lucky not to be brought across in the Old World, my brother. Gangrels in that time and place rarely survived unless protected by the Gypsies. I was away from my people when I was brought across. Had it not been for Archon, I would have died."
"We all carry our demons, brother" Vachon replied gravely with a level look. "Enough ancient depressing history. What kind of mileage to you get on that American hog of yours? I'll bet the Triumph doesn't guzzle half so much gas."
--------
The candles were guttering and the conversation, which had roamed over motorcycles, sports, Damascus sword-smithing, the Resistance against the Nazis, the history of beer, and a dozen other topics, was finally winding down. Cash was nodding drowsily in the chair when Vachon made his way barefoot and silent across the room. "Come on, you can have half the bed. You'll kill your back sleeping in that chair."
He reached out, grasped the other's right wrist and pulled the younger vampire to his feet. Cash, half asleep, staggered hard against Vachon's body.
The force of that touch and the flare of arousal that sprang between them shocked them both awake and aware. <<Oh my Gods, sweet Lady bless,>> thought Cash, panicked. <>
<<Dear God, do I want this? It's been decades since Bourbon and I shared a woman and each other.>> Vachon closed his eyes, almost afraid to look at the other.
The sound of the other's in-drawn breath caused Vachon's eyes to open. He gazed across into eyes as dark as his own. They stood silent, wrists locked together, halfway between an embrace and a mere hand clasp. But calling it 'mere' would be a lie, each of the vampires could both scent the other's arousal and feel it in the clan link.
Slowly, Cash reached out with his free left hand and laid it gently on Vachon's upper arm. He lightly caressed the top of the Spanish vampire's shoulder and followed the line of muscle under the black silk down along the collarbone. His fingers came to rest on the top button of Vachon's shirt, in the hollow of his throat and paused there. His eyes had never broken the linkage of their gaze, and Cash gave a tiny smile and quirked an eyebrow at the frozen stillness of the other.
Vachon blinked and a slight shudder ran through him. His free hand came up to Cash's shoulder and pulled the other close. Vachon's lip lightly touched the side of Cash's neck, just grazing the skin and Cash mirrored the gesture, Vachon's long hair brushing his cheek. For a long moment, they just stood chest to chest, locked in the circle of each other's arms, breathing in the scent of each other's blood just beneath the skin.
A sound suspiciously like a snicker and a light puff of breath against his skin broke Cash's trance. "So now what?" Vachon's voice purred into his ear. "Where do we go from here?"
Cash pulled back to look again into the eyes of his clan brother. "Where do you want it to go? I am a guest beneath your roof and I won't abuse your hospitality." He glanced down, breaking the silent communion. "My brother, ......" His voice trailed off and he pulled back against Vachon's embrace.
Vachon's hand slid up into the short, dark hair and turned the Gypsy vampire's face back toward him. "Oh no, you don't." A merry, wicked grin broke across the Spanish vampire's face. "I'm not letting you off the hook. My fangs ache; I at least want a taste of you." Cash laughed at that, his momentary shyness abandoned.

Part 6/10: Within the Clan
Dark eyes met dark eyes and they moved toward the bed together. They seated themselves on the edge of Vachon's bed, tentative. All of Cash's senses seemed focused on the few square inches where his leather clad thigh was touching Vachon's denim clad one. Vachon slowly reached out to the top buttons on Cash's shirt. "May I?" Cash smiled and turned toward his Clan-kin. "Only if I can too." As they lay bare each other's throats, the desire grew between them.
Cool fingers laced down Cash's neck as his shirt fell away. He quickly freed his arms from the sleeves, bare to the waist. Gold flashed in his ear and at his breast. Vachon grinned and flicked the nipple ring with his finger. "Nice touch."
"Hey, I had to do something! I've had the earring since I was mortal. They were quite the fashion with the Cavilers, and always have been in style with the Gypsies."
"And with sailors, too" Vachon reached up to touch the silver wolf's head in his own ear. "Screed talked me into it. And ain't it a drag to get it redone if you leave them out for more than a few minutes?"
Vachon leaned over quick as a striking cobra and grasped the ring in his teeth and tugged. Cash gasped and instinctively leaned into the pull, the bright pain echoing into pleasure striking directly at his groin. He reached up to cup the back of Vachon's head, compelling further attention to the tight buds. Vachon was happy to comply, focusing his attention on the unpierced nipple, biting it hard enough to draw forth a bright drop of blood.
With that taste, Vachon was lost. The younger vampire's blood sang to him of loneliness -- an echo of Vachon's own solitude, of his fear that his mission might fail, his joy at finding an unexpected ally -- clan here in Toronto, his fear of LaCroix's power, his rising desire. <<So brave, my brother, so resolved. He would die for his prince, he *expects* to do so someday. An eternity of service, I wish someone loved me so.>> "Brother, mi hermano," Vachon murmured endearments against Cash's skin as the trailed kisses up between his nipples, across the tops of his pecs and finally in the hollow of his throat. He could feel the younger man tremble and swallow.
"Take me, brother," Cash's voice was low, passion darkened.
Vachon growled low, a predator's voice, "No, you first. I know that you want me; taste how I want you." Cash's hands were hard on the sides of the other's shirt, a single convulsive movement and the silk parted under his hands, buttons flying to patter in to the corners of the room. Cash rubbed his cheek along the curve of the Spanish vampire's jaw, pushing him back to lay prone on the bed. Placing his as yet undescended fangs against the big vein in Vachon's neck, he felt the other tremble in anticipation in his turn.
Cash willed the Change upon himself, letting the iron bands of his will drop free to loose the Beast within. The Change itself, unaided by any movement, drove his fangs into the other's willing neck.
Dark blood broke across Cash's tongue, he tasted Clan first, filling his heart as Archon had promised. The blood was less rich, younger, but more passion filled than the blood he was used too, Julian's blood. <<What *will* Julian say about this? Will he be jealous?>> Worry momentarily clouded Cash's pleasure, but Vachon's mounting desire coursing through in his blood banished that momentary thought. Straddling his partner beneath him, Cash leaned farther into the Kiss, his nipples brushing against the other's chest.
"I want more." Vachon growled. Cash roused from the bloodlust long enough to register that Vachon's hands were busy on his belt and the zipper of his leather pants. His now hard cock pressed against the other's hands from beneath the leather. Kissing the last drops of blood from the healing neck beneath him, Cash eased back to allow access. Cool hands pushed the leathers down over his buttocks, hands with fingertips callused from the guitar strings, strong as steel. Cash realized he was getting totally tangled up in the leathers; there was no way to get them off gracefully while kneeling across Vachon. Laughing, he got off Vachon and rose to stand beside the bed. He stripped down without embarrassment, enjoying the other's eyes on him.
The older vampire's gaze aroused him still further, his erection jutting against the hard planes of his stomach. The Spanish vampire followed him off the bed, kneeling at his feet. There was no subservience in his posture, this was just to put his mouth at the right height. He planted a hard kiss on first one hipbone and then the other, and with little preamble, the older man took Cash's throbbing erection into his mouth. The Gypsy vampire threw back his head with a sharp cry. His hands came down onto the shoulders of the man before him and his lover's arms came around his waist.
The cool hands were everywhere, across his ass, down his flanks, trapped between their bodies, fondling his balls. And all the time, the insistent mouth on his cock, setting a rhythm he could only follow helplessly as his knees weakened with desire and he trembled on the brink. His lover could feel from the tightening scrotum that the younger was approaching the peak and applied just enough pressure to take him across the threshold. Cash growled as his pleasure hit, the other drank it down, growling in his turn. The two tumbled onto the bed as Cash's legs finally gave out.
After a long moment, Cash turned to his lover. "My turn, lay still," he said softly, reaching for the waistband of Vachon's jeans. The hard outline of Vachon's cock was apparent beneath the fabric. "I feel like I am unwrapping a gift!" Cash's voice was playful. He bent down to place a kiss just above the waistband. He eased apart the button fly of the jeans one agonizingly slow button at a time, bestowing a teasing kiss upon each new inch of pale flesh revealed. Cash was delighted to discover that once the jeans were undone, no additional layers of cloth impeded his touch. Vachon groaned and moved restlessly on the bed, trailing insistent hands through the younger vampire's hair.
Finally the last button was undone and the Spaniard's erection was loosened. Cash kissed along the length of it with nibbling kisses, paying extra attention to the sensitive area under the head. He ran his eager tongue across the slit in the top, pushing back the heavy foreskin and delighting in the salty taste of the first oozing droplets. He eased the jeans off the moaning man beneath him who lifted his hips as the kisses trailed across his groin, down the outer thigh, kissing each inch as he pushed the black denim down the long legs of his lover.
Once the other's feet were free, Cash turned his attention to kissing his way up the inner thigh. His fangs were aching with desire now and they scraped tiny cuts, each yielding only a single drop of blood. Each drop was hotter with desire. Vachon's own nails were scoring his outer thighs as he strove to stay in control, to allow his new lover to do with him as he willed. The heavy scent of his blood hung in the air, further arousing them both. When Cash finally reached the older vampire's groin, Vachon was cursing and pleading under his breath in Spanish. As he closed his mouth carefully, setting his controls into place, Vachon's hands slammed into the back of Cash's head.
The Spaniard's hips came up off the bed, forcing his cock deep into Cash's throat. He pumped once, twice, again and his orgasm exploded. Cash guzzled it down as Vachon raged with a need to bite. The hard hands in Cash's hair pulled him up while the blood tinged semen still spurted. His lover pulled Cash's face to his for a bruising kiss before burying his fangs deep in the side of the Gypsy's neck. He drank furiously for a moment, worrying at the wounds to enlarge them. Cash pulled the closest hand away from his hair, he pinned that arm beneath him, and struck at the junction of the Spaniard's shoulder and neck.
Cash could taste his own blood echoing back through his lover's. <<Clan, safety, need, strength...>> Disjointed images of the other's kills, the feel of plate armor, the pain of a lance, the burn of fire, a brief glimpse of Urs as a mortal, elegant in Victorian dress. Withdrawing as his lover's drinking slowed, he kissed and licked at the closing wounds, feeling Vachon doing the same to the deeper wounds in his own neck. Sometime earlier the last candle had sputtered out, so Cash merely collapsed into his Clan-sibs embrace and let the darkness take him.

Part 7/10: Before the Council
At sunset, Vachon and Cash rode to the Raven. They entered side by side, a matched set of dark, dangerous predators. The young vampire bouncer at the door gave way without a word. When they paused at the bottom of the entry ramp, Vachon lightly touched Cash's arm. "Brother, LaCroix wanted the local Council to meet briefly before you come in. Good luck tonight. You know that I will be there if you need me." With that, the Spanish vampire slipped off towards the office area of the club.
Cash walked over to the bar. <> The passion of the previous night still burned hot in the Gypsy vampire's veins and in his memory. <<My brother, what a bright darkness you hold. You are so free, so wild. You remind me so much of the people of my mortal birth. Julian holds me in unbreakable bonds, but you shall carry a little piece of my heart away with you.>>
"House special, please, " Cash requested. The bartender nodded and brought a glass of liquid ruby over to the young man. "How much do I owe you?"
"It's on the house; you have an unlimited tab, per the General."
"Thanks." <<I'm impressed by LaCroix's hospitality, I must remember to tell Julian and Archon
that he treated me with honor. I hope this goes well tonight. So much rides on my shoulders, this alliance is needed to establish Julian as a power in the Council of the Camarilla. I can't let him down.>> Gathering his controls about himself once more, Cash focused inward to the calm place where both the light and the dark exist in harmony. He pushed the tension away, letting his knowledge of Julian's confidence in him wash over his mind.
"Excuse me." The voice of the bartender brought him back to the here and now. "The General just called. You are to go back to the office now. You know where it is?"
"Yes, thanks." Cash picked up the packet with the treaty and the letters from Julian to LaCroix and his Council. <<This is it. Time to see if I am an ambassador or an errand boy.>>
Cash entered the office where LaCroix had greeted him the night before. His attention was focused on the Prince of Toronto, on the powerful vampire seated behind the desk. "My Lord LaCroix. I bring you greetings from my Prince, Julian Luna of San Francisco. May I present a formal offer of alliance to you and to your Council?"
"My Council is assembled to hear you. This is Cash, Gangrel primogen of San Francisco, shield brother to its Prince. Cash, meet my primogens."
Besides LaCroix and Vachon, there were four other vampires in the room. One was familiar, a tall, blond haired, strongly built male who stood between LaCroix and the door, <<LaCroix's son, Nick.>> Seated on the couch was a slim, dark skinned female, poised with a dancer's grace. <<Toreador,>> Cash guessed. Next to her was an older woman in a black dress, plain faced but with an aura of power. <<Tremere.>> An oriental man with a scowl was seated as far away from the others as the room permitted. <<Brujah, of course.>>
"My son, Nicholas. Jasmine, Dame Marian, Peter Lee. Vachon you know, of course," LaCroix completed the introductions.
"Knight, nice to see you again." Cash held out his hand and shook the Ventrue's hand firmly. "My ladies." Cash brushed a light kiss over the back of the fingers that the Toreador woman held out to him languidly and a quick bow over the cool hand of the Sorceress. "Sir." A brief bow, just barely past the line into polite to the Brujah. "My brother." Vachon didn't settle for a hand shake, but drew Cash in for a quick hug. <<No doubt in anyone's mind how he will vote,>> Cash thought to himself with a laugh.
"Gangrels!" The sub-vocal sarcasm from the Brujah in the corner caused both Cash and Vachon to whirl around with unvoiced snarls.
"Now, now, Lee." LaCroix's cool voice was full of amusement. "They are Clan and you know how close knit the Gangrels are. Vachon won't let that interfere with his duties to this Council. Will you, Javier?" The last question was purring with LaCroix's considerable power.
"No, sir," was Vachon's quick answer, but Cash noticed that Vachon's eyelid on the side away from the old Roman General dipped down in a wink.
"Now Cash, let us see the documents that you have come so far to deliver."
-------
Well, are we agreed to this then?" Nick asked in a firm voice. Nods greeted him as he tallied up the unspoken votes among the Council.
"I still say we can use the opportunity to force more concessions out of them, but I know you will vote me down." The oriental Brujah's voice carried even more than his usual amount of disrespect and sarcasm.
"No, Lee, we have heard your arguments. We are already asking for more than they originally proposed. We will have to negotiate over the exact terms and conditions." Marian, the Tremere wizard spoke sharply to her off again, on again ally.
"I will go down there at the end of the month, negotiate and bring their answer back. Is that acceptable to the council?" Nick interjected before the debate could get out of hand again. It had been a long night.
LaCroix finally spoke up, "It is acceptable to *me*." He smiled at his son, pleased to see him taking so much more interest in the affairs of the vampire Community. His son's election to the Council as Ventrue primogen was another strand linking Nick closer to his vampire heritage and pulling him away from his infatuation with the mortal world.

Part 8/10: After the Mission
"The council was pleased to grant Prince Julian's request in theory, but there are still things which will need to be negotiated." Nick turned from the bar and offered a goblet of bloodwine to the ambassador from San Francisco. "I was wondering if it would be acceptable for me to meet with your Prince later in the month to work out the details."
"He would be honored to offer you the hospitality of the city." Cash said smoothly. This was something Archon had anticipated. LaCroix was known to take a cat and mouse delight in drawing out negotiations to his advantage. The San Francisco Community was the supplicant in this alliance, but was not willing to be taken advantage of.
"I have never been to San Francisco," purred the Toreador dancer, Jasmine. "I understand the sights are unique there." She drew a long finger seductively down Cash's sleeve. "Would you like to show them to me?"
"But, my flower," LaCroix interrupted smoothly, lifting her hand from where it rested on Cash's forearm, much to his relief. "This meeting will be all politics and business, no art or pleasure."
"Well, then, perhaps some *other* time." The eyes of every male in the room followed her exit.
The Tremere Sorceress gave an unladylike snort. "You. Cash. Give Daedalus my regards. Tell him I will write to him before the next meeting."
<<So, she represents the Nosferatu as well. That would be a woman to have on your side!>> "I shall, my lady, as soon as I return to my city."
She looked into his eyes, assessing. "Guard your prince, Gangrel."
"Always." Cash replied gravely.
"Lucien, you were right. It was worth my time to come." With that trite and mysterious comment, she strode from the room. The Brujah had left as soon as the meeting was formally closed.
"So, when will you leave, Cash?" Nick asked in a conversational tone.
"Yet tonight, immediately, in fact. It will mean a day layover on the road, but there are a couple of convenient motels. I want to get your Council's answer back to my Prince as soon as possible." Cash slanted a glance over to Vachon. "Not that I haven't enjoyed my stay in your city."
Vachon almost inhaled a swallow of bloodwine at that and sputtered into his glass.
LaCroix watched the by-play, amused. <<They reek of each other and passion. I wonder how his prince will take it when he realizes his shield mate has other interests. It might be worth my while to find out.>>
-------
After a formal leave-taking from LaCroix, the two Gangrels left the club together. Outside the Raven, Vachon watched as Cash secured his saddlebags and readied the bike for his trip out of the city. "Will you be coming with Nick when he comes down later?" Cash asked. "I hope so. I'd like to see you again and introduce you to Julian and to Sasha."
"Possibly, I can't imagine LaCroix will send his golden childe into another city all alone. I would be a better choice than Jasmine." The two men shared a look of amusement.
Cash came across to stand before Vachon. They embraced one last time, arms like steel bands across each other's back. "I can still taste your blood." Vachon whispered. "Stay safe. To me, no prince is worth your life."
"Fare thee well, brother mine," Cash replied. He turned and walked to his bike, not daring to look back.

Part 9/10: Beyond the Night
The big Harley purred though the gates of the Luna mansion. <<Finally home,>> Cash's heart sang. He had barely put the bike on its stand and dismounted when Sasha came running down the front stairs and flung herself into his arms.
"Cash, Cash, I missed you." Her hungry kiss was mortal warm against his cool mouth. Her tongue slid along his descending fangs as she deliberately nicked herself. Bright sparks of her essence danced along Cash's tongue and the Beast with him roused at the taste of fresh mortal blood.
"Easy, baby. I missed you too." He forced the vampire back down. <<Julian, my prince, you'd better grant her to me soon. I don't know how much longer I can resist her. She knows all my buttons and pushes them -- frequently!<;>
Cash looked up over Sasha's shoulder to see Julian descending the steps in the wake of his impetuous niece. Cash brushed a last quick kiss over Sasha's warm lips. "I've got to go report to Julian about my trip. I'll catch up with you later, OK?"
"Sure, business before pleasure, right?" She smirked saucily at him and waved to her uncle before bounding back up the stairs into the mansion. The two men watched her go, fondly.
"Welcome home, Cash." Julian laid a strong hand on his bodyguard's shoulder. "Come inside and tell me how it went."
-----
"So they are more than willing to agree to the alliance, but want to negotiate the exact terms. LaCroix's son, Nicholas, will be bringing their ideas as to the terms here by the end of the month." Cash's detailed report of the events in Toronto drew to a close.
"de Babrant? I haven't met him.
"He goes by Nick Knight these days. He's a police officer like Sonny."
"I wonder if he has half as many problems with a mortal partner as Sonny has with Frank," Julian interjected. The two vampires shared a quick laugh. Frank's bafflement over the Kindred was a standing joke. Julian gazed fondly at the younger man seated at the other end of the boardroom table. "You did well, Cash. Thank you for going."
"Thank you, my Prince, for trusting me with this."
"I trust you with my life, Cash, with my heart."
Cash stood at that and began to pace, his own heart heavy, memory resting uneasy. "Your heart, Julian. You have other lovers. Lilly and Caitlin, to state to obvious, vampire and mortal."
"As you have Sasha, Cash. What *are* you trying to say?" Julian's voice was concerned. "Did you find someone in Toronto, are you breaking your vows to me?" Anger replaced concern in the Prince's voice.
Cash dropped to his knees at the side of Julian's chair. "Never, my Prince!" His voice caught in a sound suspiciously like a sob. He grasped Julian's hand and pressed his forehead against it, trembling.
"Then *what*?" He turned his hand within the younger man's grasp and cradled his chin, forcing him to look up.
"There was Clan there, a brother, we....." He looked away, unable to force himself to look into his Lord's eyes at this moment.
"And you were lovers? You shared blood?" The Prince's voice was still cold.
"Yes, my lord, and yes. He was Clan, my brother, but no more. You are still my Prince, my beloved."
Julian twined his free hand into the younger man's hair at the back of his head. His fingers dug scalp deep as he pulled Cash up and off his knees. "Don't you ever forget that you are mine." He pulled the Gangrel to his lips, his kiss harsh. "Mine, " soft and deadly, that voice purred as his lips reclaimed those trembling under his kiss. Julian's kisses moved from lips to throat. "Forever mine," the last word hissed as the Change swept over him and his teeth slid into Cash's skin.
Moaning, the younger man pushed forward, impaling himself eagerly on his lover's fangs, feeling his blood pour into his lord's hungry mouth. Cash poured love and passion into his blood. His memories of Toronto, of the light-hearted romp with Vachon, cascaded over the link that his blood formed with his Prince. There was no reason for Julian to mistake what had happened between the two Gangrels, it was Clan and high spirits, nothing more.
"You are mine, Cash, blood and body. Clan frivolities are one thing, but never forget that I am your prince and you will give to me what I desire." Julian withdrew his fangs to hiss in the younger vampire's ear.
Julian looked down at his young lover. He mused, <<How best to teach him this lesson?>> He suddenly eased his grip on Cash. "You are dismissed. I will see you here tomorrow at sunset."
Shocked by Julian's abrupt switch to formal manners, Cash could only kneel, shaking, as his prince stalked from the room.

Part 10/10: Return to Grace
In the two weeks since the trip to Toronto, things had eased between the two vampires. Julian no longer insisted on formal manners. The teasing, trusting relationship the two normally enjoyed was more or less restored, though the prince had not yet permitted Cash to share his bed, nor had he allowed a renewal of their bond by sharing blood.
The day had been a truly boring one for Cash. Endless meetings about Julian's business holdings had occupied the Prince of San Francisco. Then a meeting of the Council of the City in preparation for Nicholas Knight's pending arrival to discuss the terms of the proposed treaty. Julian had changed into a lounging robe, and Cash prayed that meant the prince was finally ready to reclaim his position as lover. But Julian had just poured himself a glass of bloodwine and logged onto his computer. Now Julian was engrossed on-line reading his email.
"I'm about to do something drastic to get your attention, Julian." Cash teased.
"What kind of drastic?" Julian quipped, hitting the forward button to retrieve the next message.
Cash prowled over to the chair behind the desk, leaned over and put his hands on the chair back on either side of Julian's head. "Ummmm, this?" And he nipped Julian on the side of the neck, not quite breaking the skin.
Julian grabbed Cash's upper arms and flipped him over onto the top of the desk. He leaned down and placed a hard kiss on the young Gypsy's lips. "Your pouncing skills are improving, but you need to work on the follow-through."
Cash blinked, looking up at the elder. <<Where did *that* come from?>> was his astounded thought.
"Get up." Julian's voice was harsh. "And strip off your shirt."
Cash slid off the desk, quickly shed his white tee shirt and hesitantly came to stand before his prince. These lighting mood changes were unsettling.
Julian walked to Cash's back side, pressing his full body weight against the young vampire. He reached around Cash's midsection with both arms, moving his hands across the younger's abs, "You were embraced at precisely the right moment, an eternal Adonis." He fingered the nipple ring, tweaking it lightly. Cash shuddered in his prince's arms, his mind a total blank, overcome by the switch from merry teasing to anticipation of punishment to passion.
Julian moved his hands upward until they grasped Cash's shoulders and he had the younger vampire's upper body locked in his embrace. "You must think through your actions, Cash. Where was your little game headed?"
"My lord, we were alone. You usually don't expect formal manners then." He winced, <> "I do know better than to interrupt you, my lord."
Julian moved his hands back down Cash's body, stopping at the waist and positioning his hands along the top of Cash's jeans. Whispering, he commanded, "Tell me what you want, my little gypsy."
"Gods, my prince." Cash's voice shook as he whispered, "You, my lord, please........"
"Patience is a virtue, my young friend. This type of thing should never be rushed." Julian spun Cash around and begins undoing the buttons of Cash's jeans. <<What is the fascination with button-fly jeans?>>
Touching, Cash could hear much of the prince's thought through their bond. "Julian, it's like opening a gift. Do you rip the paper off or undo each piece of tape?" A ripple of laughter lilted through his voice. "Me, I cut off the paper."
Julian stepped back and perched on edge of the desk. "Cut off the paper? Umm, where are those scissors?" Julian spread his legs, letting the robe fall to either side and opened the desk drawer, searching for something.
Cash pulled his blade from the back waistband of his jeans and laid it down inches from Julian's hand on the desk, then unclipped the sheath, and placed it beside the naked blade. <<Who needs scissors?>> Julian picked up the blade, fingering it. "I hope that's not a good pair of jeans?"
The top two buttons already undone, Cash's hands went to the next ones, eyes still locked onto Julian's. At the prince's words, his hands stilled. "They aren't my favorite pair."
"Come here." As the younger man approached warily to stand between his prince's legs, Julian learned forward, blade in hand, and reached for Cash's jeans. He slowly inserted the blade below each remaining button and with a quick snap, popped them off.
Cash pulled in his gut, he enjoyed the feel of steel against his skin, but this was getting into damn sensitive territory! "You trust your prince, don't you?" Julian's level voice could be taken as either a threat or a promise.
"You know I do, my lord." <<He trusts me, steel in my grasp, within arms reach of him -- dozens of times a day -- but I hope to hell his hand is steady!! I saw a man castrated for rape in the camps once, NOT what I want for the pride and joy.>> Cash gave an inward sigh of relief as Julian slid the knife into its sheath and tossed it behind him on the desk.
<<So help me, if Daedalus walks in with some inane clan business right now, I'll kill him.>> Julian's hand slipped inside the waistband of the Gypsy's jeans. Cash, catching the thought in the bond replied, <<Right after I do.>> He reached out and grabbed the lapels of Julian's robe. "A little overdressed, aren't you, my lord?"
"Perhaps. What would you suggest?" At that, Cash pulled the robe down, trapping Julian's arms at his sides. <> Julian smiled to himself.
<<Don't let your guard down, not even to play, not even in passion.>> Cash thought back to Julian as he leaned over and claimed a kiss from his lover. "Lesson learned." He let his weight off of the sleeves, freeing Julian's arms. "This wasn't about the email, was it my prince?"
Julian relaxed, "No, it wasn't." Cash leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper, hungry, tongues meeting. "This was about me goofing off on duty." Another kiss, "Forgive me, my prince. It won't happen again." His arms slide around his love's back and head nestled against his prince's shoulder.
<<Goofing off? Is that the new euphemism for fucking the enemy?>> Julian tried not to let that through the link. "You were forgiven before you made the transgression." He wrapped his arms around Cash.
"My inattention could get you killed, I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you." Catching the edge of that raw anger, he marveled, <<He's STILL mad about Vachon?>> "Beloved, you are my prince, I will *never* betray my vows."
"That is why Archon gave you to me, Cash. He knew our blood bond would transcend clan lines." Julian turned his head so his neck faced Cash. "Take what is yours without asking."
Cash breathed a deep sigh of contentment. "I am yours, Julian, unless or until you discard me." He let the Change come gently. <<And that day I will embrace the sun.>>
Sensing Cash's thoughts, Julian sent back through the link, <<That day will never come.>> The Change flowed through Julian, and he bit into Cash's shoulder.
Cash could taste Julian's passion bursting over his tongue, dark and light braided together by a diamond forged will. The link between them spiked with Julian's remembered fear that LaCroix had somehow subverted one of the two people in his life that the Prince could truly trust. Not Sasha, not Lillie, not the mortal lover Caitlin, not even Daedalus held Julian's trust completely. Only his Sire, Archon, and his shield mate -- given to him by his Sire's hand -- Cash. Those were the only souls in Julian's dark world whose loyalty he had never questioned before. He had been forced by circumstances to risk one of those loves, and for a terrible split second he had doubted.
Cash poured his loyalty, his passion, his pride, desire across the blood bond and felt forgiveness and love echoing back. <<Home, safe, my heart, my blood, my Prince, my beloved.>>
<<Yes.>>
______________________
{Finis} I hope you liked it. What happens when Nick comes to San Francisco to negotiate? "Treaty" is the *next* story if anyone wants me to tell it. And do LaCroix, Julian and Archon take on the Council? "Alliance" completes the tale.