The Brethren

Chapter Two:

Angelique stood slowly after being unceremoniously dropped onto the ground. Taking her hand, Thorn looked aggressively at all the other immortals in the room.

\"Let\'s go home.\"

He said turning back to the vampire on his arm. Angelique smiled seductively and allowed her to be led from the room.

Walking down a dark alley, Thorn still led Angelique by the hand. Steadily a warehouse loomed ever closer towards them. A dark body standing still, ready for them to take it over.

As they reached the cold steel doors, Thorn opened them to a light room bustling with activity. Vampires walked this way and that, all preparing for something. Some carried boxes, other walked in pairs talking about that needed to be moved.

Entering, Angelique noticed how much it reminded her of a beehive.

Laughing aloud as she was led by the hand to a throne on a dais in the middle of the busy warehouse.

\"My beautiful maid,\" Thorn began in the old tongue, \"the hand that leads you is that of the leader of this group. We are the Brotherhood of the Wolf; all mortals are a flock for us to pick at. Will you join?\"

He asked as he was handed a sword. The hilt was an ivory in the shape of a dragon; it was a Japanese relic. How he came to poses it, she would never know.

\"And what such a guild would welcome me?\" Angelique asked with practiced movements, \"A mere one vampire, to a hundred uneven?\"

Motioning around her, as she took in the surroundings.

\"To be a Mere vampire in a group of many.\"

Thorn said with a smile.

\"Acceptance would mean what?\"

Angelique inquired.

\"Your blood to your new leader. Your allegiance to help master the mortal realm. To kill without hesitation.\"

And on queue a young boy was dragged out from a back room, he had no marks and seemed unhurt.

\"And to decline would mean what?\"

She asked uncertainly.

\"You will be shunned, unwelcome, untouched.\"

Replied Thorn; he was now being robed in black and silver, beautiful with a halo of light coming from the moon outside. You could mistake him for an angel if you really tried. Of course Gods disciples said that Lucifer himself was the most beautiful angel of them all.

\"And how am I to kill without hesitation? With love I do not have? Or with the love I wish I had? To end his life to make a new one for myself? To kill without hesitation.\"
Asked Angelique sadly, this poor mortal boy. He was shaking. Thorn stood and walked towards his childe. Handing her the ancient sword, he beckoned for the boy to be led over.

Whimpering, the small boy of about three was led over to where the two stood.

\"I don\'t want to die.\"

Said the boy bravely. Looking up at Angelique.

\"Then you should never have been born.\"

Replied Angelique without emotion before swiftly chopping of the child\'s head. Dropping the Japanese relic at Thorn\'s feet, she looked down at her shirt and grimaced at the sight of the small boy\'s blood splattered across her shirt.

\"I just had this cleaned.\"

She said in her fluent British accent, sadness lining her tone.

Walking towards one of the many staircases that adorned the warehouse, she ascended towards an office to brood over her unjustified kill.

Thorn looked after Angelique as she slowly made her way up the stairs with a glum look on her porcelain face. He detested it when she was in some way hurting, even though he hadn\'t been with his childe for over 150 years. During those long years he had felt every one of her emotions. Whether it is loneliness, happiness, joy or unforgettable pain.

The bloody sword still lay at his feet as he turned and walked away.

\"Clean up this mess.\" He said with a wave of his hand.




Angelique wiped the single unwanted tear from her cheek as she thought about what she had just done, that left her shattered and lonely.

She had been a ruthless killer for many a year, but she never had been dark enough to kill a child and oh, how young this child was.

To make matters worse for her the child was the exact age of her beloved dead brother of only three years.

It had been a beautifully clear night back in Canterbury more then 150 years ago. She hadn\'t known Christian or Thorn as he was now called back then. She hadn\'t known anything about what was now her life, or unlife.

Angelique\'s family had been her one and only concern back then, and her baby brother was the most important of them all.

He was like an angel to look at, so innocent and vibrant with his curly brown hair and his clear blue eyes.

Liam, being his name, was the spitting image of her long dead father and had the same personality of her older brother Daniel.

Daniel had been so protective of his younger self until that fateful night in late October.

Angelique closed her eyes and covered her ears. She didn\'t want to think about what was to come next. It was a night she would never forget as long as she was on this earth.

The image of her holding her dead brother in her arms flashed before her eyes.

His curly hair clung to his forehead and his frail arms hung limply at Angelique\'s side.

Blood covered her body as it gushed from the tare in his small neck that the savage beast that stood before her had inflicted.

She would never forget the face of his killer, because she knew it well.

Her body began to tremble as she felt the smooth and reassuring hands of Thorn around her shoulders.

\"Come on pet, you\'ve had a long day.\" He said pulling her up from the chair she was sitting on.

All of a sudden she realized where she was. She was no longer in the dreadful cottage in Canterbury, that held so many painful memories, but in the quaint little office in the factory that Thorn had lead her to.

Angelique turned her head up so she could look into Thorn\'s eyes. His eyes had always captured her in a way that she couldn\'t explain.

His eyes had been the first things she had notice when she had ran into him in the dark alleys of London so long ago.

Liam had only been buried a little over a month and she had already fled the town of her birth and settled for the more active life of London.

Franchesca had been with him at the time and yet he was outlandishly attracted to Angelique.

She had gone willingly into the dark side, but now all she wanted to do was find her brothers\' killer and then be done with her unlife.

Thorn returned her stare and smiled.

\"What is running through that never ending mind of yours?\" He asked tracing a finger down her slender nose. A small wet tear escaped her left eyes and ran down her cheek.

\"A past that has come back to haunt me.\" Was all she said.

Thorn brushed a strand of Angelique\'s raven hair back from her face and lightly kissed the tear away.

\"As long as I am with you, nothing will haunt you.\" Angelique placed her head on Thorn\'s chest and sighed as he lead her out of the room and down the corridor to another much larger room with more lavish furniture.

The room wasn\'t really a room at all; it was more like a small apartment. There was a small bar off to the left and old-fashioned little lounge room off to the right.
The large bedroom was straight ahead. It had two French doors that closed off the bedroom from the rest of the apartment.

\"What is this place?\" Angelique asked as her eyes began to close and her body fell into a deep sleep in Thorn\'s arms.

\"This is your new home, my childe.\" He said silently as Angelique had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He gently picked her up and carried her over to the bed.
He kicked the French doors open with his foot and walked over the bed.

The bed barely moved or even made a sound as he placed Angelique\'s frail body on top of it.

Thorn planted a light kiss on her forehead before he left the room.

\"Goodnight sire.\" A sleepy Angelique whispered as she turned over in her sleep.

Thorn smiled and left the room, where his childe slept and dreamt of the good times they had spent together in London.

It would be a very short dream, Thorn thought as he kicked himself for pushing his childe into the world at such a young age in her life.

Franchesca would have to pay for all the lost years between the sire and his childe.




Thorn opened the door with out asking or needing to be invited in and stepped through the doorway. The room was dingy and ill treated but then, it was only a temporary place for him to meet \'Dean\', as he liked to be called... Well, actually, he liked to be called a lot of things, but Dean was what he went by in the public eye. Good thing Thorn didn\'t count as public so he could call him a great many things.

The place was called The Cupboard. So when you left you were coming out of the cupboard. A nice little pun to end his day on. Thorn knew Harriet, the proprieter, on a regular basis and knew justhow punnish he was, because Harriet was actually born Harry.

Yeah, so, Thorn was in the Gay district.

There was a sound of clothe rustling and Thorn turned to face it. Dean stood, literally in every way, leaning against the wall by the door. Naked. The rustling clothe? He held a long red silk scarve. Thorn held out his hand without preameble and Dean stepped close, eyes down and handed the red scarve to him, turning around and then heading for the bedroom. Thorn followed.

\"On the bed, hands on the metel.\"

Thorn said quietly but with an unmistakeble order in his voice. Dean complied.

Thorn stepped close and tied his hands close together with the scarve.

\"Test them.\"

He said.

Dean did, and they didn\'t budge. Dean had thoughtfully wet the scarve already. Thorn slipped a hand between the bed and Dean and lifted until his ass was presented to his liking. He stripped and Dean kept his eyes on his tied hands, but with his perpherial vision watched the whole show and was hard pressed (pun intended) to hide what the dominant was doing to him.

\"Knees apart.\"

Dean again complied, a shiver of anticipation raising goose-bumps on his arms and legs and also elsewhere.

\"Look at me.\"

And Dean did, taking his time to rove his eyes over the body before him. Hard muscles were presented, skin so pale white it was like paper. Thorns nipples stood out in stark releif against his chest, hard and jutting, wanting attention.

But it was lower things that drew Deans eyes. Thorn was hard and smooth and looked like velvet, his privates jutting out in their own way wanting attention, slightly darker then the rest of his skin. He curved strong and slightly to the left, but even that impoerfection was lost in the overall beauty of him.

Dean let out a breath he didn\'t know he was holding.

\"Close your eyes.\"

Well, it goes without saying.

Dean heard several draws open and close then the bed move as Thorns weight dropped onto it. There was several more movements as Thorn got comfortabel between Deans legs. Thorn took the cap off the lubricant he had fetched and rubbed it onto several fingers.

Without preamble, he quickly circled a finger the muscled around the hot tight opening that was all thorn was currently interested in then thrust it in. Dean gasped in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Thorn pumped him several times then asked if he wanted more. Dean obliged by thrusting back a little and Thorn promtly added two other fingers. Dean let out a low word, Thorns real name, Christian.

\"No words tonight, but you may make noises.\"

Thorn continued to pump him a few more times then reached down beside him and pulled up the small horse whip he had also grapped while rummaging around. Good ole\' Harriet/Harry, he must have been a boyscout once.

Thorn withdrew his fingers with a quick push on Deans prostate and making him practically melt into the matress.

\"No, up!\"

Thorn said and brought the whip down hard. Dean cried out, raising up as fast as he could. Blood welled on his back. The cry had held more in it then pain.

Thorn, felling creative, thrust the end of the horse whip into Dean as far and as hard as he could. Dean bucked into the feeling and cried out again, but didn\'t do anything not specifically denied to him.

Thorne pulled it out savagely then pushed it back in again. This time Dean did something wrong.

\"More!\"

Oops, he\'d spoken.

The whip was wrenched from inside him and brought down savagely upon his back, crosswise from the other stripe received. Blood welled and Thorn made a noise low him his throat. The sweet and flatly metalic scent of the blood filled the room and his senses, he bent down and molded him self to Deans back, laying all that blood upon his stomach and chest.

He rose up slowly then lowered his mouth to the coppery taste of the blood. He ran a tongue across the would and Dean cried out at the touch. Thorns tongue was stangely rough like a cats.

\"What did I say about talking?\"

Rhetorical question seeing as Dean couldn\'t talk.

Thorn rose up, placed both hands on Deans ass and spread them straing at what was exposed to his viewing pleasure.

\"Very naughty of you pet.\"

Thorn thrust as hard and as fast as he could. More blood scented the air and Thorn knew that he had torn something, but he was lost in the sensation and didn\'t care. And judging from the little helpless mewling noises that Dean was making he didn\'t really mind either.

Thorn concentrated on plunging in and drawing himself nearly all the way out only to plunge back in again.

Things tightened low for him and he knew he was close to climax. Dean was moving with him, and the smell of blood was slowly dissipating, the stripes on his back nearly healed, and obviously things lower as well. This made Thorn slow a bit before grabbing the whip and shoving it inside the boy before him along with his dick. Dean cried out again and blood was in the air.

Pleased, Thorn conrinued on with his plunging, Dean was still thrusting with him.

Thorn thrust twice more roughly and came inside him. He pumped a few more times just to feel the friction of blood and whip then pulled out.

He took off the scarve while still inside him, reaching over him and making Dean mew again. There was a lovely smell of blood and come in the air, and looking down, he noticed it wasn;t all his come. He took the scarve and wiped up some of the mess upon Dean, who knew better then to move.

Thorn stood up and took walked into the bathroom saying over his shoulder:

\"Don\'t be going no where now, pet.\"



When Angelique woke, she found she was alone in the room. Searching the rest of the warehouse she couldn\'t find Thorn anywhere. Giving up, she went back to the apartment. Walking through the door she notice a white piece of paper taped to the bar fridge.

\"Gone out - Thorn. Well that\'s a lot of help.\"

Angelique said, she was very frustrated. Walking onto the railing that led towards the stairs she called out to someone she saw below and they came running to her aid.
\"Where\'s Thorn gone?\"

She asked, authority oozing from her. Looking the dark haired vampire in the eyes, he seemed to cringe away from her a little. Quickly drawing her dagger from a concealed place, she stabbed it through his elbow joint.

\"Next time, know the answer.\"

Angelique said simply.

Following her sensitive sense of smell, she followed Thorn\'s scent, a distinct smell of venom that only she knew he had.

It led her all the way down town towards the river. Entering an apartment block which Thorn\'s scent had led her to, she could hear his voice coming from the top apartment.

Walking up the winding stairs that led to the top apartment, Thorn was definitely in this room. Silently opening the door with a bobby pin from her hair, she entered a darkened room. Following the whispering voice, she opened the door to see Thorn sleeping on the bed.

She smiled as she saw his perfectly shaped back slowly rise with every breath he took. Even though vampires didn\'t really need to breathe, Thorn had this habit of doing it in his sleep.

His naked arms were firmly planted under his head as he slept on his stomach.

He was still wearing his tight leather pants but his shirt was no where to be found.

Angelique\'s smile fell from her face as she realized that Thorn was asleep in someone else\'s bed. He had been for the whole night.

As she watched Thorn sleep she heard a soft singing voice drift from the bathroom. She had been listening to it the whole time that she had been there but now she was actually taking notice of it.

She was sure that she had heard the voice before, a very long time ago.

All she wanted to do was run out of the apartment and never look back, but her feet were planted to the ground on which she stood.

Suddenly the enchanting voice stopped and the room was silent. Except for the soft rushing sound of the shower, which ceased a few minutes later.

A light breeze from the opened window above the bed where Thorn lay sprawled out, ruffled Angelique\'s silky hair.

Images of Thorn and who ever was in the shower flashed through her mind. She didn\'t know why but it hurt something fierce to think that Thorn was sleeping with someone else.

Finally she was pulled out of her nightmare from the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Angelique felt herself suck in a deep breath as she waited to find out whom the tramp was that Thorn was sleeping with.




OOH, CLIFFAHNGER!!! Don\'t you just hate me? Let me know what you thought of the sex scene because it\'s my first slash one.... No, really!