Young Writers Society

Part Two of Chapter Two. You know what to do. Crit and comments welcome. Be nice, but not too nice. Enjoy and whatnot!

Chapter Two – Part Two

To Ethan’s surprise, he parked the car in the private parking area at the rear of the club. Then he got out of the car, casting Ethan a look that told him to follow. He did so, and Nich led them back around to the club’s main entrance--the front one--and straight up to the front of the line and the bouncer.

“I’m expected,” Nich told him and the bouncer grinned, showing off his fangs. The woman on the other side of the doorway didn’t seem to react. She just unclipped the rope and they were through. Ethan stayed one step behind him as they passed the bouncers. And then the door was shut behind them. Nich offered Ethan a hand and the human took it.

Before they could even move, a young man glided to a stop before them. Nich knew straight away that he was a vampire, and it wasn’t because his dark brown eyes were tinged red. He was also Native American. And he smelt like Ciaran. This had to be the man who’d been Ciaran’s bed companion earlier. “Ciaran wants you upstairs. He sent me to make sure you get there.”

Nich just blinked at him. He was far younger than Nich’s three thousand odd years. “You are very young,” he said, frowning. There wasn’t a visible reaction, so he quickly added, “I mean, compared to me.”

The other vampire blinked. “Ciaran is older still,” was the clipped reply. Then the dark-haired vampire turned and let them across the club. Nich stayed two feet behind him, wary. And two steps behind him, he could feel the spirit. She was looking around the club in awe--at least until she spotted the pale-haired vampire feeding on a redhead woman over in one corner of the club. When she caught sight of that, she turned into something that was all fury and anger and vengeance. Nich actually flinched. And she felt it. He was glad when she toned it down for him and let her anger, her desire for vengeance, fade.

Several of the vampires in the club were now looking their way as they approached the stairs to the second floor. They were curious, mostly. But only a handful were Ciaran’s. Nich was hardly surprised. Entranced tended to cater to the other kind. Humans as food were a necessary evil. Though Nich wasn’t sure if ‘evil’ was really the word. Most of them actually liked to be bitten. He didn’t get it, either way. Why would anyone want to be bitten? He hated it. It was one of the ways his sire had tormented him.

“Nich.” His whole body jerked, startled. Nich turned to Ethan with a frown. Green eyes narrowed at him. He blinked. “You were kind of zoning out for a second,” the human said, dragging the fingers of his left hand through thick brown hair. Nich sighed.

“Sorry,” he muttered back, turning back to the younger vampire only when he cleared his throat. They mounted the stairs and quickly made their way up them and onto the second floor, and the balcony. Down the walkway and to a pair of heavy double doors. The other vampire halted in front of the doors and half turned towards them.

Nich raised an eyebrow at him. He gestured to the door. “Ciaran is in here.” The vampire’s gaze narrowed; it was now more red than dark brown. “He’s been expecting you.”

Ethan nudged him, but Nich just inclined his head, ignoring the human for the moment. The other vampire snorted and stalked off down the walkway to the stairs. Nich stared after him for a moment before shaking his head. Ethan exhaled beside him and shifted forwards, grabbing the handles and turning them. He pushed inwards and then hesitated, glancing back. Nich gestured for him to open them already. And Ethan listened.

They were barely inside the room—which turned out to be an office—when Ciaran appeared from behind another door. “Kosumi, put it there,” he said absently and pointed to the desk with his free hand. His other hand held a bundle of papers. Nich blinked at the older vampire. Then he looked up when he realised no one had answered. Ciaran smiled. “Nicholae.” Then he spotted Ethan, lingering by the door, and his gaze darkened. “Ethan.”

Nich glanced between then. “You’ve met?”

Ciaran snorted and moved to the desk, putting down his papers. “You could say that,” he muttered, leaning back against the wooden monstrosity. “Nich, why don’t you come here and we can discuss that idea I might have.” He shot Ethan a dark look. “You can go wait downstairs with the others.”

Ethan didn’t say a word; he just stepped back out and closed the doors. Nich frowned and gave the other vampire a curious glance. What the heck had that been about? Ciaran just smiled and beckoned him forwards. Nich went, but warily. “That idea you have?” he asked, instead of asking what it had been about.

“Mmh, I said you won’t like it,” Ciaran replied, unmoving from his position against his desk. “And you should take my word for it, Nich.” He edged closer and sat when Ciaran gestured to the chair in front of his desk; Nich was curious, though. What kind of idea could the ancient have in his head? “I’m going to have to bite you and then feed you my blood.”

Nich froze, eyes gone wide. He stared at Ciaran, startled. “T-there’s no other way?” he said, somewhat shakily. Ciaran slowly shook his head. “Shit.”

“You shouldn’t sound so terrified, Nicholae. I’ll be gentle.”

“There is no such thing as gentle for a vampire,” he ground out. Ciaran leaned forwards slightly and he cringed back in his seat. The ancient was studying him, and Nich wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. Besides, the spirit woman was not impressed with the suggestion, either. She wasn’t as furious as she had been downstairs, but she was angry—angry that Ciaran could even suggest it.

Ciaran smiled. It was a soft, gentle smile. “They can when they are me, child.”

Nich smiled timidly at the older vampire, and Ciaran smiled back. A second later and he’d leaned back a bit, hands planted on the edge of the desk. “You make it sound so simple,” Nich offered in a soft voice, clutching one hand at the other. He was unnerved facing down such an old vampire. Ciaran was nearly twice his age, at least! How could he not be?

“It’s not always so simple.” With that statement out of the way, Ciaran pushed off the desk and began to pace. Nich watched him in silence. “If you truly want to break your bonds with your sire, you seek sanctuary with an older vampire—that is, one older than said sire.” He cast Nich an unreadable look. “That would be me, since I am the only one of my age that I know of in this area of the world.” Nich swallowed and nodded. “You’ve come to me; that means you are seeking sanctuary.”

“Does it?” Nich asked, frowning. He hadn’t realised there were so many traditions and rules—laws, regulations and the like—for vampire kind. It was a real eye-opener. He dropped his gaze to the floor, unwilling to face the older vampire, unwilling to meet his gaze. “I didn’t realise...” He let out a long breath. “There’s so much I don’t know.”

“So much your sire should have taught you within the first few years of your new life.”

His expression twisted into a grimace and he jerked his head to the left in an aborted little movement. “He didn’t,” Nich muttered. “He prefers his toys stupid.”

There was a rustle of clothing and then a hand on his shoulder. “You are far from stupid, Nich,” Ciaran said, keeping his voice low and soothing. “And you are definitely not a toy. Not to me. I prefer my children to be smart and unique.” Nich was still beneath that hand for a long moment before he dragged his head up to find Ciaran perched on the arm of the chair. “You should not despair for your master’s cruelty, or for his upbringing.”

“I’ve been running from him for so long...”

“I know.” Silence again. Nich bit his lip and waited it out. Eventually, Ciaran stood and crossed to a cupboard Nich hadn’t noticed earlier. He watched as the older vampire opened the cupboard to reveal a selection of spirits. He heard a chuckle, and it wasn’t Ciaran’s. Feminine and light, delighted, it came from the spirit woman he could feel lingering in the room. He couldn’t pinpoint her exact location, but she was definitely there. Ciaran turned towards him with a small smile. “What would you like?”

Nich just smiled. “Don’t you already know?”

With a small chuckle, Ciaran pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses. “Normally, I drink scotch or whisky,” he said as he cracked open the bottle and poured them a drink each. “This is a bit of a new thing for me.” He glanced at Nich. “Wine, that is.” He finished pouring and set the bottle done before picking up both glasses and crossing over to where Nich sat. As he handed one to Nich, he continued, “Where I grew up, it was mead or ale, beer and later, scotch and whisky.” He gave Nich a sly smile and sipped his drink. “Drink; it’ll help.”

So Nich drank, and Ciaran talked. And when there was enough wine in his system, Nich began to talk and Ciaran began to drink. His gaze darkened as he listened, but he never asked Nich to stop. Not once. And only when he was finished talking, only when Nich had no more words, did he begin to question. Nich, drunk as he was, answered. And then Ciaran suggested he rest; there was a whole other section to the club, more floors below ground and plenty of rooms—upstairs or down. Nich agreed, but he was frowning by then. Ciaran just sighed and took his glass, setting it down on the desk behind him. He moved to sit on the lounge beside Nich.

“I know you want to protest, Nicholae, but this is for your own good,” the ancient said, leaning in towards him. Nich, judgement clouded by the alcohol, stayed put, looking up at him. “You are going to feel pleasure, little one, and you will not fear me or anything I do.”

“Ciaran?” he asked, falling back against the other vampire. Ciaran had shifted him into his lap at some point and Nich wasn’t sure when or how. He didn’t really mind. He liked Ciaran, but this was starting to worry him.

“Shh,” was the reply, quiet, tense. “I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you,” Nich said, somewhat dreamily as Ciaran settled his head back against his shoulder. And then the older vampire was kissing his neck, arms clamped down around his waist. Nich squirmed, his pulse thundering. He felt hot. Then he felt it; the teeth sliding through skin and into vein. His vein. “C-Ciaran?”

There was no response and he felt Ciaran start to draw, and then there was a flood of dizzying pleasure. He was swiftly lost in it. There was warmth, heat, desire. He felt loved, cared for even. His head was spinning and the world had withdrawn into darkness and flares of white heat. And then there was nothing for a long time; he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember. But when he came back to himself, he was still in the office, still in Ciaran’s lap. He blinked slowly up at the ceiling for a minute before he shifted. Ciaran was leaning back on the chair, eyes closed, when he shifted to look at him. Without a word, the older vampire pulled his sleeve back and offered his wrist to Nich.

Nich stared at Ciaran’s wrist for a long moment before he took it and brought it up to his lips. There was a sharp indrawn breath when he bit down but other than that, Ciaran didn’t react. He didn’t even speak until Nich had finished and withdrawn from his wrist. “If he persists, I may have to destroy him.”

“What?” he asked and glanced towards Ciaran. His eyes were still closed and he looked a little strained. Ciaran wasn’t smiling. Nich shifted off his lap and onto the chair proper. Once he had, Ciaran’s eyes flew open and he stood, crossing to the cupboard housing his spirits and pouring himself a drink of what looked to be scotch. Nich wasn’t sure; it could have been whisky. He realised he was no longer befuddled by the wine. “Ciaran?”

“I’ll be fine.” Dismissive, final; Nich didn’t bother him about it. “Will you?” he asked, sipping his drink. Nich couldn’t see his face—just his back. But that back was tense. He frowned deep at the other vampire and leaned back in his seat. Now that he was paying attention, he did feel a little odd.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, tasted blood and tilted his head to one side. “I feel strange.”

“You’ll be fine.” A pause; a long one. And then Ciaran turned to face him. “About that suggestion I made earlier...”

“Which one?”

Ciaran scowled. “The one about you resting here.”

Nich looked away. “Oh. That one.”

There was a minute of awkward silence and then Ciaran pushed away from the drink cabinet, stalking back towards him. “I think it best if we retire to my manor.” Nich blinked at him and Ciaran’s scowl returned. He went to the desk instead of to the lounge Nich sat on and picked up his paperwork. “The club attracts too much attention.”

“I understand,” Nich said, and then he frowned. “Um, Ciaran? What about my housemates?”

Ciaran cast him an unreadable look. “The humans?” he asked, and when Nich nodded, he chuckled. “They’re still downstairs. I’m surprised you didn’t see them when you entered the club.”

Nich flushed, still looking away. “I was a little... distracted at the time.”

He was given a small smile before Ciaran’s attention returned to the paperwork in his hand. “The club closes soon. You should go find them and tell them you won’t be coming home tonight.” He looked up again, caught Nich’s gaze when he glanced towards him. “I’ll make sure they get home safely. Tell them you’ll be staying with Ethan, if you must.” Ciaran cast another small smile his way. “I’m sure they’ll believe you.”

“I’m sure they will,” Nich muttered as he stood and made for the door.

“Ethan will be at the bar!” Ciaran called after him, and then lower, “probably chatting up my bartenders again.” Nich wasn’t sure if that second bit was meant to be heard by him or not, so quietly was it said, but he nodded all the same and left the room, heading downstairs to do just what Ciaran had suggested, and then some. Hopefully.