Ethereal

The war between the half-bloods and the pure-bloods has reached a danger point, and destruction of both races is imminent. For two members of the pure-bloods, though, life seems to just be starting. Will it end sooner than they think?

A/N: Had the idea since I’m a freak over the idea of sexy vampires. Anyone seen Queen of the Damned? Yea, HOT LEADING MALE CHARACTER PEOPLE. Anyways, this is my first ever SHOTA fic I have done so I hope people like it. If you don’t know what Shota is, I suggest you check out http://www.vamppire.com/ she has AMAZING Shota’s.


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Chapter 1. Israfel


During these times, all you could ever here was the howling and slashing of claws. Sometimes you’d be able to hear the screams and gargles of pain and death as one died. The creatures of the ethereal realm were at war again. Not a century has gone by since these beasts were at war last, and this one seemed to be taking it’s toll.

The Lycanthrope – or more known as, Werewolves – had killed one of the Vampire hoard while hunting. It had sent another war spinning out of control. The Werewolves were only after one thing, though. It was what the Vampire’s protected most. Their sworn duty for eternity.

To guard the veil between the human world and the ethereal world.

Why they were given this task is still unclear, since many Vampires had broken rank and gone through to drain the blood of the humans. They were sentenced to burn by the power of the white sun. No, Vampires on not sensitive to sunlight. That is mere fairytale bullshit. These Vampires were far more powerful. They could walk during the brightest of hours, eat garlic if they pleased and touch a cross and rosary without a single burn. The only part of fairytale that be true is a steak, or sharp object, directly through the left or right ventricle of the heart.

Lightening struck the highest peaks of the far mountains, the dark castle casting stony bright on the lonely hillside deep within the east. Darkness had ensued over the eighteenth month of the war, and no end was deemed in sight. Lycanthrope and Vampire alike were falling dead left and right, but wave and wave after attack will still being forced.

Night had fallen not long ago, and one said Vampire, was just moving onto eighteen hours of no sleep. He grumbled to himself tiredly, short white hair falling into his face, his dark, charcoal black eyes unfocused and fuzzy. He grumbled again, rubbing away the invading sleep and stood up tall, his heavy black pants and dark armor clanking loudly in the echoing dungeon.

The only door within the veils circular room opened and high laughing echoed around the room as two Vampires, both sporting bloodied armor and heavy weapons, stalked in. The white haired male glared at the other white haired (though his hair was much longer) and the redhead with fathom.

“Oh, don’t give us that look Israfel,” the other white haired male said, giving the younger, shorter male a stoic look. “Least your not getting rained on by blood.”

“I’d rather be getting blood rained on me than staying down here where I can’t even get a single drop of it,” the Vampire, Israfel, snapped.

“Wow, what’s with the attitude?” the redhead barked, glaring at Israfel with his grey eyes.

“Sorry. I’m hungry, that’s all,” Israfel whispered apologetically.

“No worries kid, that’s why were here,” the white haired male said, holding out a large pail. “All for you.”

Israfel turned to the pail, staring at it with lusty eyes. He licked his lips and stepped forward, taking it gratefully and tipping it to his trembling lips. The metallic syrup touched his lips and he moaned, the warm salty taste making his eyes cloud completely red. He lowered the bucket and gasped, wiping at his mouth and licking at his elongated fangs.

“Werewolf blood,” he said, staring at the pair. “How generous of you.”

“It’s our only supply, so don’t complain,” the redhead said, walking around Israfel toward the rippling veil. “I hate this thing.”

“It’s our duty,” Israfel said, taking another long drought from the pail. “And I’m not complaining. It’s been fourteen hours since I’ve had any blood and it doesn’t matter to me what touches these lips, as long as it quenches.”

The redhead smirked and walked around the stone archway, staring at the veil as it swayed. He glared at it and stopped once he had made a full circle and kicked a loose stone through the curtains. They swayed and rippled faster before dying back to their slow motion.

“Wonder where it’ll land?” the other white haired male said.

“Hopefully on a humans head,” the redhead mumbled.

Israfel stared at the pair.

“Marius,” he said.

The redhead turned to him in question.

“How are we doing?”

Marius and the white haired male who had entered with him gave each other long looks before he turned his grey eyes back to the smaller man.

“Now, that’s more like the Israfel we know,” the white haired man said.

“Shut up, Ethelred,” Marius snapped, but he kept his eyes on Israfel. “Were doing fine. The Werewolves have dropped back. The castle is no longer a level one battle target.”

The young white haired Vampire sighed with relief and said softly, “that’s good.”

They both nodded at him.

“Gabriel’s still on the battle field though,” Ethelred said lowly. “He wont stop until he’s killed ever last one of them.”

“What do you expect,” sighed Marius, running a hand through his spiky hair. “His brother was mauled by one of those beasts. We’ll be lucky if the yearling even survives.”

“How is Lord Damien anyways?” Israfel whispered.

Marius gave him a pitying look. “You really have been down here long.”

“No shit,” Israfel grouched.

“He’s not well,” Ethelred interrupted. “He’s getting worse.”

“What about the blood, isn’t that helping?” asked Israfel.

Ethelred shook his head.

“The supply of Unicorn blood we ordered never made it,” Marius whispered. “He doesn’t have anything to sustain himself.”

“How’s Lord Gabriel taking it?” Israfel said more lowly, his voice dying passed a whisper.

Marius gave Ethelred a knowing look and turned back to Israfel.

“Why do you think he’s still fighting?” said Marius.

“Now that’s a Vampire,” Ethelred said. “I swear, it’s been two months since a drop has touched his lips and he’s still sane.”

“That’s why he’s the elders son and our future leader,” Marius said knowingly, his grey eyes flashing. “He truly is powerful.”

“Jealous?” Ethelred said, smirking.

Marius gave him a disgusted look.

“I dare not be jealous of my Lord,” he said in a snappish voice. “I have known him since we were only yearlings.”

“Yea, yea,” Ethelred said, waving a hand at the tall redhead. “Cool it would yea.”

Marius glared at him but said nothing more.

“Hope he’ll be okay,” whispered Israfel as he drained the last contents of his bucket.

“Who, Gabriel?” Ethelred asked, smirking.

“Yea,” sighed Israfel.

“He’ll be fine,” Marius yawned. “He’s the elders son, after all.”

“What about the others?” Israfel asked, blushing as he saw their exchange of looks. “Xavier, Azazel, Cecil, Piotr?”

Marius turned his eyes away and stared at the ground. Ethelred gave him a pitying look and turned back to Israfel and leaned down to whisper into his ear.

“The others are all fine but ... ” he looked at Marius briefly, “Azazel was wounded and we haven’t heard of his health yet.”

Israfel gasped quietly. Marius and Azazel were lovers, and they loved deeply. They were barely ever apart, and if they were, it was always odd to see. Once the war started, Azazel was one of the many who had been called into battle. Marius followed soon after, wanting to look out for his lover. It was strange, really, seeing Marius saddened.

“Marius ... I’m so sorry,” Israfel whispered.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said gently. “I’m – I’m sure he’s – fine.”

Ethelred gave him a sad look and squeezed Israfel’s shoulder.

“Just leave him,” he whispered.

Israfel nodded and listened as the clatter of hooves and the thumping of paws thundered by the low window, shadows bouncing across the circular walls as the silver of moon light was rippled due to the battle. Another heavy clap of thunder broke the sudden silence, followed by the howls in the distance from the Lycanthrope’s and the hissing and snarling of battling Vampires.

“LOOK OUT!”

The three Vampires looked up suddenly as the loud crying voice echoed down on them, followed by many crashes and hisses. Feet thundered above them, voices echoing out, yelling at those saying “don’t get to close” or “he’s lost control.” The three looked around at one another with confusion. Marius fled through the door as his shock wore off, Ethelred and Israfel on his heels.

They broke the landing of the second dungeon just above the veils chamber and clattered across the cold stone ground to the hidden spiral stairway at the far end. Ethelred broke into a dead sprint as he shot passed Marius and bounded up the stairs. The others followed at a slower pace as the stairs beneath their feet blurred past.

They broke onto the main landing and stopped, bodies upon bodies of whispering and frantic Vampires blocking the passageway. Marius, being much taller, stood up on tiptoe to look over the many heads. He spotted Ethelred weaving through the crowd and followed, Israfel on his heels.

“He’s lost control ... ”

“He transforming ... ”

“He’s in so much pain ... ”

Israfel listened to snippets of conversations as he passed a group of chattering Vamiresses and one elder Vampire among them. He squeezed between two bodies and stumbled forward into the front of the crowd, his eyes falling to the middle of the room, chains and brackets hanging heavily off a slumped body.

He gasped.

The man raised his head and roared, his hands reaching upward, his fingers clawed heavily, blood pouring from his nails. He fangs were growing longer still, stretching passed his bottom lip and still longer. His dark black hair hung heavily in his face, rain and mud splattered thick and dark amongst the usually silky straight strands. His eyes ... his eyes were blood red, blind with the need to bite ... to feed.

“Gabriel,” Israfel whispered, a hand clutched over his mouth.

His shoulder was squeezed and he looked up, Marius’s usually calm face staring, frowning, over at their elders son. He pulled at the chains, roaring and snarling angrily. He bared his fangs at a yearling that went cowering back into the crowd, the young girls mother clutching her protectively.

Ethelred stepped forward from somewhere to Israfel’s left, reaching out to the bloodthirsty Vampire Lord. He stepped cautiously, moving with slow paces. Gabriel was watching him threateningly, like a predator eyeing it’s prey.

“Lord Gabriel,” Ethelred whispered.

“Do not touch him,” said a high ringing voice.

Everyone turned to the grand staircase, the long cloaked figure of a very old, very greying Vampire stood. His eyes were purely black, his fangs protruding over his bottom lip. He stumped forward slowly, the crowd of Vampires around the bottom of the stairs moving aside for their esteemed elder. They bowed as he passed.

“My son,” he said in a high, hellish sort of voice. “So, you have finally given into your weakness.”

Gabriel turned to him, snarling.

“Yes, I did not think you would be able to go long without blood,” he said in his high sneering voice.

Gabriel snarled again and growled, deep and low.

“You are stronger than this, my son,” the elder said, taking a limping step forward.

Israfel watched fearfully from the side, the elder coming closer and closer to the form of his son. Another few steps and he would be in range of Gabriel’s claws. Israfel wanted to call out to the elder, to tell him his words were only making Gabriel furious, but he knew the elder would not listen to one such as himself.

“If you truly are my son, you will not fall to such petty things as blood,” the elder wheezed.

Another step.

Gabriel’s red eyes flashed. He slashed, his claws connecting with his fathers old face. The elder fell back, flying across the ground and connecting with the next wall. Gabriel roared, the chains clanking and jangling on his wrists. One bent and snapped, his right arm not free. He lashed out at the crowd, snarling loudly, his fangs getting longer still.

The crowd scattered in places, some running to the elders side, others jumping tot he back of the crowd. Israfel jumped forward, the crowd gasping and calling out to him. He did not listen. He grabbed Gabriel’s turned shoulder and clutched it tightly.

Gabriel turned, his red eyes flaring. Their eyes locked, and Israfel saw hunger behind them. He gasped as his upper arms were grasped in bone crushing holds. He stepped back as Gabriel’s face descended upon him, bypassing his cheek and thrusting his head to the side. Saliva-slick fangs slid across his carotid artery. Slowly, the elongated fangs sank in, blood pooling out around the two identical twin holes.

It was like burning hot pain. Gasping, Israfel felt Gabriel’s extremely long fangs break his pale skin and sink deep within his neck, bursting open his pulse point. He shuddered as a strong arm wrapped around his waist and another around his neck, soft fingers lacing into his hair and scratching against his scalp. His eyes blurred with pain as his neck was arched even further to the side, Gabriel’s shuddering growl quaking across his neck

He buried his head into Gabriel’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around the older, taller, males neck. He massaged the Lord’s long black hair, running his fingers through it and sighing softly. His eyes watered with tears as he took in the smell of old rain, blood and soil from the others tattered form.

“My Lord,” he whispered as soothingly as he could. “Drink. It’s okay, just drink.”

Gabriel growled in warning and arched Israfel’s neck farther to the side, his fangs burying deeper into the boys punctured flesh. The white haired Vampire clenched his eyes shut and dug his fingers into Gabriel’s shoulders, arching toward the male and groaning in pain.

“It’s okay to lose control some times,” he said in a weak, tired voice. “It happens to us all some time or another. I know, I have gone through it more than once ... ”

Slowly, very slowly, Gabriel’s growling lowered to that of less threatening, his sharp fangs decreasing in size ever so slowly. His tight hold lessened to one of a gentle embrace and he stopped drinking, blinking away the reminiscence of redness from his eyes.

Israfel titled his head up again, feeling as Gabriel was not objecting, and burying his nose into the others neck. He breathed in his male scent and sighed, his vision fuzzy and weak. He smiled as the pair de-tangled from one another, but Gabriel did not release Israfel so easily. He held him at arms length, staring at him with shocked and disbelieving eyes.

“Gabriel,” Israfel whispered. “My Lord.”

“Israfel, why did you – ” Gabriel began, but could not find the words.

“Oh, my Lord,” Israfel sighed, brushing a hand through dark hair and tucking it sweetly behind Gabriel’s pale left ear. “You are alright.”

He collapsed, falling forward into the others arms. Gabriel held him, the blood coating his teeth and around his mouth drying and cracking. The group of muttering Vampire’s began to near, one pulling Israfel away, whispering worriedly. The other turned to Gabriel, forcing him from the room and jostling him up the long staircase into the upper levels of the castle.

“What will happen to Israfel?” Gabriel snapped as he was forced to sit. “Why did he let me bite him.”

The Vampire that had directed him sat down opposite him and glared.

“That little yearling should not have interfered,” said the high jeering voice of the other.

“Father, why did he do it?” Gabriel asked in warning.

The elder did not answer.

“Was it because I was transforming?” Gabriel asked angrily.

“Your little ‘fuck’ – ”

“Do not speak of Israfel like that,” Gabriel snarled in warning, his fangs elongating again.

“Sit down, boy,” his father hissed.

He did so without another word.

“As I was saying,” his father spoke in warning, “your little ‘fuck’ decided that you would not return without blood, so decided to allow you to bite him.”

“One: he is not a ‘fuck’ father,” Gabriel said in a dark, cold voice. “Two: why can’t you accept him as who he is to me. My lover.”

“You are a disgrace,” his father snarled, standing aggressively. “You and that little yearling bitch of yours. I would kill if not for your brothers ailment.”

Gabriel gave him a very dark look that made his father raise his eyebrows.

“But, mark my word, ‘son’,” he said in a hissing voice, “when your brother gets better, I wont hesitate to kill you.”

“Well see who kills who, father,” Gabriel whispered threateningly.

His father raised his brows again.

“Do you think, Gabriel, that you will kill me?” his father said in a high-pitched, jeering voice. “You do have some nerve, boy.”

“Just because you wanted to sell me out too some dumb bitch Vampiress does not mean I am the one who has disgraced, father,” Gabriel spat.

His father looked at him with questioning eyes.

“Are you saying that you believe your little brother to be the one who has disgraced me, Gabriel?”

Gabriel blanched at that.

“How dare you. I love Damien with my heart and soul. I fight because of him. No father, he is not the one who has disgraced, it is you that I speak of,” Gabriel said in an icy, enraged, voice.

His father glared down upon him and Gabriel smirked, knowing he hit a nerve.

“You ... and your disgusting half-blood – ”

It was almost instantly that his father had dived over the desk and pinned him against the opposite wall, long clawed hand wrapped tightly around his throat, legs dangling hopelessly from the ground. He was glaring down at his father, fangs exposed menacingly. His father looked equally enraged, his own long fangs exposed to their full extent.

“I have warned you, Gabriel,” his father whispered. “I have warned you time and time again.”

“It’s because of you Damien is like this, father. Because you were so weak and fell in love with a dirty, flee-biting werewolfess,” Gabriel choked out in a hissing voice.

The hand tightened around his neck and he gagged.

“When this war is over, Gabriel,” his father whispered. “I will kill you, whether or not your little brother survives or not.”

He was released, air rushing through his body. He stumbled sideways and stared up at the looming figure of his father, the towering giant of Vampire giving him the angriest of look. Hells fires spat from the elders eyes, all the hatred in the world aimed at his eldest sone. He turned without another word and Gabriel left, reluctantly, and kicked the door shut behind him aggressively.

The hallways were bare, the dark candles flickering along the walls. He walked silently toward the infirmary, the darkness enveloping on the battle fields below. He stared at the ground as he slowly rounded the corner, a voice ringing out around him, one he knew all to well.

“LORD GABRIEL ... ”

He winced at the title.

“What is it, Armand?” He asked with exasperation.

“Where in hells name have you been?” Armand asked in a disgruntled voice.

“With my father,” gritted Gabriel.

Armand snuffed and tossed his long curly blonde hair from his face, his deep, ocean blue eyes staring at Gabriel like a calculator. So much like a woman, Armand placed his hands on his hips and thrust one his to the side, balancing on one foot while he tapped the other with impatience. His glare was soft and feminine for a male, but he was a mighty strong warrior.

“Have you talked to Marius yet?” Armand asked.

Gabriel began to walk, the blonde at his side.

“No, I have not been able to,” Gabriel said, wiping his mouth of the dry blood.

“Don’t you think you should?” said Armand in a very suggesting voice.

“I will tell him in time, Armand,” Gabriel warned icily. “I just returned and bit Israfel. I must see if he is all right.”

“Aw, worried about your lover, are you,” Armand giggled.

Gabriel gave him a very dirty glare.

They continued to walk in silence, their heavy dragon-leather boots clattering and clicking across the ground loudly. The hallways grew darker as night grew into the very late hours. The screeches and howls of war still raged below, cracks of lightening and trembles of lightening rumbling and rolling across the ethereal world.

“How is he anyways?”

Armand turned to Gabriel.

“Well, he’s not getting worse.”

“So he’s not getting better either.” Gabriel sighed.

“Our supply of blood has run low, Lord,” Armand said. “If we do not get at least on pint of Unicorns liqueur soon, he might die.”

“And my brother?”

Armand looked away sadly.

“I see.”

They stopped outside the heavy oak doors of the infirmary, Armand staring at them and away from Gabriel’s harsh piercing crimson eyes. Sighing in defeat finally, he looked up at the tall Lord.

“Your brother has a fortnight before he will die from his wounds. If he does not get Unicorns blood, he’ll die,” Armand whispered before leaving.

Gabriel did not bother to watch him go. He entered the infirmary and set off down the corridor. It was empty within this long hallway too. All the doors were slammed tightly shut, blocking out any sound. In the rare case, you would be able to hear the insane cries of those Vampires who had gone to far into their transformation and went mad. They would bite and scratch at themselves, killing slowly.

A door stood ajar down the hall and to the left. Gabriel pushed it open slowly as he neared and stepped inside, letting it glide shut behind him. The beds hangings were drawn around the thick black sheets. He pulled aside the heavy curtains and looked down into the ill face of his yearling brother. Anger and hatred for himself came over and he clenched his fists, drawing blood out of his hand.

“Why did you do it, Damien,” he whispered, dropping into a chair.

His brothers unconscious form made no attempt to move. Of course, he couldn’t, could he. Gabriel reached out, sliding his hand beneath his brothers still one and held it tightly, the blood on his fingers wiping across his brothers palm. He smiled and lifted the bleeding hand to his brothers lips, letting droplets of blood slid down his long pale fingers. He inserted two fingers into his brothers partially open mouth and felt the familiar licking of a tongue.

“That’s it,” he whispered, “drink up.”

Tiny fangs scraped across his fingers as the tongue rolled around his bloodied digits. After a while, the tongue stopped. He withdrew his hand and reached down to hold his brothers again. He stayed like that for minutes at a time, just staring at his sibling. How he loved his little brother, but how he could not save him. It made his body ache with anger at the mere thought.

“You’ll save him, don’t worry,” Israfel’s soft voice whispered from the doorway.

Gabriel smiled and turned to face the yearling. It was quite astounding how such a young male could be so wise and psychological. Israfel smiled, tilting his head to the side; short, white hair falling across and around his face. He was leaning leisurely on the doorframe and tracing circle patterns on his crossed arms.

“I do not worry, young one,” Gabriel said mockingly.

Israfel scowled at him.

“Don’t call me that.”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow and said, “why not?”

“Because ... ”

Israfel blushed at his loss of words to say and decided to inspect a tiny loose pebble on the stone floor. Gabriel smirked at him and leaned back in his chair, watching as a slow, pink blush crept onto such a pale innocent face.

“As mush as you would like to deny it, Israfel,” said Gabriel, “you are still a yearling.”

The other continued to stare at the floor, but said in a whisper, “I should be able to fight.”

“No.”

Israfel looked up quickly, hearing the chair scrap back across the floor. He was surprised at how close Gabriel was already to him, striding quickly and stopping mere inches from his body. He stepped back out of habit and stared up at those burning royal eyes. He felt small under the towering body and gaze.

“You are still to young. Only those who have reached their mating years can fight, and you still have a decade and a half to go,” whispered Gabriel.

“I want to be by your side, though,” sighed Israfel.

Gabriel reached out and touched his cheek.

“My father is right, you know,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I am more than three centuries old, you are still less than one,” said Gabriel.

“Are you ... ”

“Never,” whispered Gabriel, catching Israfel’s hands. “I would never break such a fragile heart. You are to pure, even for a Vampire.”

“Then what are you saying?” asked Israfel.

Gabriel pulled the smaller male into his arms and stroked his white hair with softness.

“Israfel, you are only the age of eighty-five. I am three hundred and twenty,” Gabriel whispered, burying his nose into the soft white tresses. “I wish to mark you, but I cannot. I want to be able to be with you, to warn those who try to touch you that you are mine ... to make love to you ever night and ever morning ... but I cannot.”

Israfel shuddered, wrapping his arms loosely around Gabriel’s waist. Hearing such a confession was making his heart tremble within his chest. He let out a shuddering breath and rested his cheek against the beating of Gabriel’s own heart.

“Gabriel ... ”

“Let me finish,” was the whisper he got.

Israfel nodded into the cool chest.

“When this war ends, when this is over ... Israfel I want – I want to mark you as mine,” Gabriel confessed. “Be my mate. Let me mark you.”

Israfel froze, unable to move. His eyes widened in pure shock. He stared at the opposite wall, breathing heavily. Gabriel’s heart had suddenly began to beat with intensity, his body tightening around the white haired males. Israfel felt those strong arms encircle him further and Gabriel’s face bury deeper into his hair.

“I ... ”

“I will understand if you say no,” Gabriel said, finally pulling away.

“No, let me finish,” Israfel said in a rush. “Gabriel, I would be honoured. How long I have waited to hear you say those words ... I do not know but ... ”

Gabriel smiled with such softness tears appeared in Israfel’s eyes as he continued.

“But I cannot say yes. Not yet,” He said softly. “If I said yes now, and you return to war, how can I be certain you would come back to me.”

Gabriel gave him an understand smile and lifted one hand to his lips, kissing each one of Israfel’s pale fingers. He closed his eyes and lifted the other hand, doing the same. He opened his eyes once he reached the white haired mans palm and rested it on his cheek with his hand covering it.

“Return to me, Gabriel,” whispered Israfel, stepping closer. “Return to me ... and I will say yes.”

Gabriel smiled and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. It was if the world was suddenly gone. They wrapped themselves in one another’s arms, pressed together fully, lips closed around one another. Israfel’s mouth opened almost instinctively for Gabriel’s tongue, which slid out and intruded into it’s marked territory.

Their bodies molded as Israfel was pushed against the wall next to the door, crushed gently to the cold wall. He gasped at the cold feel as Gabriel’s tongue slid deeper within his mouth to the very recesses of his caverns. He moaned, eyes fluttering completely closed. Their lips parted, but did not go far. Gabriel descended on Israfel’s neck, sucking and kissing, licking and nibbling.

Then he stopped.

“What – what’s wrong?” Israfel gasped out.

“Why did you let me do it?” asked Gabriel, very softly.

They looked each other deep in the eyes. Israfel knew exactly what the tall dark haired Lord was talking about. He lifted a hand away front around Gabriel’s neck and covered the two throbbing marks on his neck, water tears in his eyes once again.

“I know what happens to those who forget to feed,” Israfel said softly. “I didn’t want to lose you, or see you in that much pain.”

Gabriel held him closer.

“So – I let you,” Israfel finished in a shy voice.

“Did I hurt you too much?” Gabriel asked, touching the marks.

Israfel smiled and shook his head.

“I knew ... ”

Gabriel pulled him close, staring at the doorway out into the hall. Israfel could feel his tenseness and tensed as well, clutching close to the Lord’s chest. He breathed heavily, staring at the door cautiously as feet trudged rapidly down the corridor, voices echoing off the stone walls, distorted by the heavy door that had blown closed.

“Get behind me,” Gabriel whispered.

Israfel need not telling twice. He rounded the tall figure and huddled behind him, crouching low. The voices became louder, but were still unclear. Gabriel growled, his fangs growing once again, eyes becoming red. The footsteps stopped outside the door, the voices becoming a whisper.

A knock.

“Lord Gabriel,” came Marius’s soft whisper. “Don’t worry, it’s just Armand, Ethelred and I. Can we enter?”

Israfel sighed and slumped back against the wall.

“Enter then,” Gabriel said, also calming himself.

The three opened the door quietly, yet it still creaked, and closed the door.

“What’s wrong?” Israfel asked, seeing the distressed look on Ethelred’s face.

“We have bad news ... and then worse news,” Marius said glumly.

Gabriel eyed him a moment.

“Worse news last,” Israfel said, coming to stand next to Gabriel.

“Alright, bad news it is then,” Armand said dully. “So, the bad news is – ” he turned to Gabriel “ – your father has just decided on a suicide attack on the werewolves.”

Gabriel froze with shock.

“And ... and the worse news?” Israfel whispered, clinging to the back of Gabriel’s cloak.

Ethelred looked away, as did Marius.

“Gabriel’s the sacrifice,” Armand whispered.

“When did you hear this?” Gabriel ordered more than asked.

The three looked at one another hopefully, but none seemed to want to tell him. Finally, Marius sighed and stepped forward, measuring up to Gabriel and looking up into the taller mans piercing dark gaze.

“We heard your father speaking with the other elder,” he said strongly, but as Gabriel’s gaze hardened, he began to sweat. “They – they were talking about – about the quickest way to destroy the enemy without losing half the hoard. Your father said he only needed one heir and that’s when you came into the conversation.”

“So, I am to be a sacrifice,” Gabriel whispered.

Israfel clutched his hand and squeezed it. Gabriel looked to him and saw, with a twinge of pain, tears rolling down the others pale cheeks.

“Gabriel,” whispered Israfel.

“It is for the clan, Israfel,” sighed Gabriel.

The white haired yearling backed away, shaking his head as he went.

“No, you can’t,” he whimpered.

The others watched, feeling like they were imposing. They exchanged glances with one another, but didn’t move.

“He can’t do this,” Israfel burst out, his voice ringing high. “He can’t do this to you ... to us.”

“Israfel, calm yourself,” soothed Gabriel.

“No, he’s hated me since the day you said you loved me. How can you just tell me to calm myself when he’s going to break us apart,” Israfel cried, punching Gabriel in the chest as the other pulled him into a tight hug and let him cry. “How could you l-let him.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel whispered so the others could not here.

“Don’t do it,” Israfel hiccoughed. “Please, don’t let him take you from me.”

“Isra – ”

“I want to be with you, Gabriel,” Israfel whispered, choking out another sob. “I want you to come back to me afterward and ... and make me yours.”

Their eyes locked.

“I’ll make him change his mind,” Gabriel said, hugging Israfel close. “I’ll tell him there has to be another way.”

“What if there isn’t?”

It was Armand who spoke this time, but he was staring at the floor. Israfel looked up at him, horror-struck.

“There will be another way,” Gabriel snapped, his voice rising icily. “Never doubt my words, Armand.”

“Y-y-yes ... sorry, sir,” Armand said quickly, bowing low.

Ethelred slapped the younger male on the back of his head, Marius scolding him from his left as Gabriel turned back to Israfel and brushed back a white lock of hair. The others eyes looked painfully red from tears. He brushing his fingers over the two red marks on his neck and sighed, holding the yearling close to him.

“I wont let it happen, I promise,” Gabriel whispered.

“And you never break a promise,” Israfel sighed.

Gabriel smiled.

*~*~*

The doorway burst open, lips locked tightly together, soft moans and whimpers of pleasure cascading around the room. Gabriel slammed the door with his foot, leading a half-naked Israfel to the dark sheeted bed behind him. He pulled away, their tongue moist with saliva. He panted as his hands roved over soft white – messy – strands of white hair.

He licked his lips in a very predatory way and lowered Israfel to the bed, crawling over the smaller males body and attacking his neck. His tongue rolled across the males two red marks and over his chin to his mouth, their lips attacking one another again, forcing each other to submission.

Gabriel won easily, thrusting Israfel’s arms over his head and holding them together with one strong hand. The small body beneath him squirmed as he felt fingers ghost over his pale white chest. He moaned heavily, bucking his hips upward as the hand played with the buckle of his thick black belt.

“Gabriel,” He gasped out.

The male latched their mouths together again. They had done this many a times before, but never gone beyond oral release. For one, Israfel was far to young still to be broken, and two, Gabriel would never allow such pain to be endured by such youth. It was hard, though, very hard ... to stop just in time to not go beyond.

Gabriel rolled onto his side, mouths still bonded together in a heavy make-out session. He wrapped one leg possessively around Israfel’s knees and pulled him closer, touching their erections together. They moaned into each others mouths, both needing release. Gabriel would give his young companion just that, but he would need to wait to see for himself whether he got release in return.

Gabriel released Israfel’s hands and rolled onto his back, the younger male sitting up to straddle his waist He was blushing sweetly, chest exposed, pants partially undone and looking very flustered. He leaned down over Gabriel and kissed his softly before descending onto his neck, playing master for however long Gabriel would permit. His tongue rolled expertly over his neck and collar bone. He kissed the older mans shoulders and moved to his chest, unbuttoning every clasp to his black silk shirt.

“You have missed me,” Gabriel said in a deep, rumbling, sigh.

“Of course I have,” Israfel said nonchalantly. “How could I not.”

Gabriel smirked as a hot tongue lapped at him again, sucking on one of his nipples. He smirked and brushed his hands through Israfels’ long hair, playing it through his fingers. The warm mouth moved lower and hands fumbled with the belt his leather pants. Another smirk creased his lips. Guess he was going to get release tonight.

He felt a hand dig into his pants, brushing across his eretion. He moaned, arching slwoly upward into Israfel’s waiting hand. But ... it was not Israfel’s hand he arched up into. His eyes widened as a hot moist cavern lapsed around his tip. His mouth flew open and he sat up, pulling Israfel away from his erection to stare at the yearling.

“Israfel – ” he began in warning, but stopped at the look in his lovers eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” Israfel whispered, leaning on Gabriel’s chest, “about what the others said.”

“Have you?”

“Gabriel ... I want to taste you tonight, to feel you,” whispered Israfel. Their eyes locked together like fire. “I want you to mark me tonight, Gabriel. Make me yours.”

“Israfel, you are making a brash decision,” Gabriel sighed, shaking his head.

“I have loved you since I was born,” Israfel said in a high voice. “I want to be with you, Gabriel. I want you to touch me ever night, every day. I want to feel you in me and cry your name.”

“You don’t know what your saying,” Gabriel whispered.

“I do,” Israfel said strongly. “Gabriel, please, look at me.”

The Lord sighed and turned to his young lover. Sadness was etched in every line, every contour, every inch of the yearlings pale complection. He leaned into Gabriel and pushed his cheek into the black haired mans chest, listening to his heart.

“You are too young, Israfel,” Gabriel whispered, his heart thumping calmly as he brushed his hand softly through white hair. “Don’t let what the others said fuel you into foolish decisions.”

“Is it because I am still a yearling?” whimpered Israfel.

“Partly,” Gabriel said truthfully. “But that is not all. I don’t want to force you into something you will regret. Let us be as we are now and wait. I promise I will, but we need time ... you need time.”

Sighing Israfel nodded sadly and cuddled closer tot eh taller Vampire. He chewed his lower lip worrisomely and finally gained the confidence to ask. Slowly, he pushed away to arms length and looked up at his lover who’s legs he sat between.

“Is their someone else?”

Gabriel glared at him for asking such a question.

“You’d think I would leave you for some other?” he said in a soft, angry voice. “Why would you ask such a question of me. It has always been you, and only you.”

Israfel felt he should slap himself.

“I’m – I’m sorry ... Gabriel,” he whispered tearfully.

“I have made a promise to you, my love,” he said, cupping one cool, wet cheek, “that I will be with you forever. I do not break promises, you know that.”

“I know,” Israfel whispered.

“Let us just spend a night together without worry.”

“You will return to war tomorrow ... to the battlefield?”

“Yes.”

“Come back to me.”

Gabriel stared.

“Promise me ... make me an unbreakable promise you will come back to me.”

Gabriel cupped his other hand over his lovers cheek and whispered against his lips, “I promise.”

They fell back into the sheets, the bed sinking to form to their bodies. Gabriel kissed his lover deeply, stroking wet cheeks with his own pale fingers. His left hand moved to brush his young lovers white hair, bodies pressed impossibly close. Their tongues laced and danced and laced again, wet hot lust burning within them.

Israfel whimpered and moaned, his arms swinging around Gabriel’s wide, strong, shoulders and pressed himself against the older man. His body was burning for touch and it was making him hurt with need.

Their lips unlocked, but the fire did not die. Gabriel’s hands slid down his lovers small waist to the band of his pants. He licked at his neck, his shoulders, his chest and nipples. His tongue swirled around one baby bud, tickling across the rosy nub. His teeth seesawed across it and his lips sucked.

“G-Gabriel,” Israfel gasped.

Gabriel’s skilled hands clasped his loves belt buckle and began to remove it, the metal latch clicking together with the holster. He slid the small leather trousers down Israfel’s slim waist, over his lithe thighs and down over his knees and finally off across his ankles. He tossed the offending article across the room and dove back down to suck as his lovers neck.

Israfel’s hands laced into Gabriel’s lengthy hair, tangling into the long tresses. He gasped and arched, moaned and whimpered with each touch and caress. His eyes blurred and fogged, lids dropping heavily over his cloudy gaze, perfect passion coursing through him.

He hardly felt Gabriel rise from his chest, but heard the latch of another buckle and opened his blurry eyes. Gabriel stood, completely nude, in front of Israfel. The young Vampire could not help but blush, still unaware of how he had captured Gabriel’s love so easily. He covered himself instinctively, ashamed of his small body and blushed heavily.

Gabriel smirked and crawled over him, his erection brushing against Israfel’s knee, making the yearling whimper, his thighs trembling. Gabriel pushed the thin legs apart, lying between them. He brushed back a white bang from his young lovers face and pressed a loving kiss to the pale boys nose.

Their erections were pressed together, rubbing and twitching together. Tips wet with precum, growing larger and pulsing with need; Gabriel began to rock, sliding their erections together, clenching his teeth together and propping up onto two arms. Israfel cried out beneath him, arching upward and pushing their members closer together.

“Impatient?” growled Gabriel in a whisper.

“I h-haven’t seen – seen you in – AH – over two-oo-o months,” Israfel cried and moaned out.

Gabriel smirked and wrapped an arm under Israfel’s back, holding his lower back up off the bed. His other hand went to the boys white hair and danced within it, their erections creating hot friction, pulsing with desire and need for release.

Israfel let out another moan, one arm sliding down from Gabriel’s shoulders to his mouth. He bit the back of his wrist as he screamed with pleasure, whimpering and gasping. He closed his eyes, blinking at the thick fog and pleasured tears. His arm was pulled away, pushed above his head as lips descended on him.

Gabriel thrust faster, grinding their erections into one another with force. They moaned into one another as their kiss went from hot and passionate to wet and burning. Their tongue danced and folded, exploring and playing as the bed rocked and creaked with their thrusts. Israfel’s arm still latched around Gabriel’s shoulders tightened as their speed increased. He panted into his lovers mouth, lips parting, sweat and perspiration dripping down his nose.

“Nnngh – Gab – riel – ughn – faster,” Israfel panted.

With a growl, Gabriel complied, placing more pressure onto his lovers back, pulling their erections even closer until it was nothing but slick friction. He hissed into Israfel’s ear, licking across his cheek and sliding his tongue deep within the yearlings mouth. Their kiss was heavy and wet, pure lust and emotion drawn within it.

Israfel was the first to disband, tossing his head back. Both hands went to Gabriel’s shoulders as he cried out, tears spilling down his face, semen exploding across his stomach. He body trembled, legs shivering madly as Gabriel pressed even closer and thrust faster and harder. With a cry of his own, black hair tossed back hotly, he came, splashing his own seed across his lovers chest.

His arms trembled and gave way, collapsing on top of the yearling. Their breath came in pants and gasps, Israfel hugging his lover close, nose buried into the top of his sweating head. He sighed and closed his eyes. Gabriel rolled off him and onto his side, pulling Israfel with him to rest against his chest. He pulled the black sheets over their sweaty bodies and tangled their legs together.

“I love you, Gabriel.”

“And I, Israfel, love you ... ”

He heard his lover sigh and heard his gentle breathing as sleep claimed him. Gabriel sighed and pressed his cheek into Israfel’s hair, eyes blinking slowly. He knew it would hurt the yearling, but he could not see his face ... when he left again ...

I will leave before he wakes, a voice in the back of his mind said. He will understand.

**~**~**~**~**~**

A/N: *squeals with delight* YAY, first chapter *does major happy dance and falls down dizzy*. Okay, so ... *coughs* ..,. yes, well, a Shota ... *laughs nervously* ... alright, if you don’t like Shota, don’t FUCKING read it. I don’t want any bullshit flamer’s saying I’m disgusting and perverted, cause I don’t give a flying fuck what you have to say. Oh, and if you can’t get a mental image of Gabriel or Israfel, check out ‘Vamppire’s’ site. Check out Sakura Ashika’s Shota’s (preferably the first one in the list of 4). The guy with the long blonde hair is sort of how I am depicting Gabriel and the boy in book 1 and 2 on her list as Israfel. Okay, well, review if you want an update.