WARNING: dark, dark images. If any of this offends you, PLEASE do not read.
Spoilers: Takes place sometime after ATS S4, or maybe S5 or S6 depending on what happens, but strictly au, no specific spoilers for Angel. There are spoilers for my Bloodline Series (I can't believe I'm saying that).
Disclaimer: I don't own BtVs or Angel characters. Joss Whedon, David Greenwald, Mutant Enemy and the WB...all rights. Some ideas and terms LOOSELY used from "Vampire: The Masquerade, the role-playing game created by Mark ReinHagen for White Wolf Game Studio. No infringement intended.
Summary: Spike finds himself doing his duty. Although this is a single fic, it is based in my Bloodline Universe. If you have not read any of my Bloodline series, parts of this fic won't make any sense.
Author's Notes: Sometime ago Ish requested that I do spin-off, or one-shots on my original characters. Well it's been over a year and this is what I came up with. It's a one-shot, but not on an original character. Blame it on my muse. It does what it wants, when it wants.
Thanks to Elisabeth and Ghostsforge for their help.
Tzmisce = While other vampires try to retain their human nature, Tzimisce actively seek to divorce themselves from it. They have a proclivity for cruelty and torture.
The Camarilla = The dominant international organization providing structure for vampire life. It's headed by the Vampire High Masters.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Camarilla had been reinstated, although its purpose was no longer for the protection of vampires as a whole. The numerous vampire clans of the past had more or less combined into two major groups. One was led by the dominate Ventrues and their High Master, Judelin. The second was led by Baduna, the High Master of the Tzmisce Clan. For the moment, the two factions were at a cease-fire, but times were uneasy, and the two sides were hanging on the brink of battle. Thus, Judelin called for the Camarilla to be reestablished. Its purpose, to keep the two Clans from going to war. Because a war could mean extinction for the vampire race.
**
Sighing for the umpteenth time while dragging his feet, Spike reluctantly followed Angel, his uncle Damon, and his brother Djoser. He wondered if he could stick his finger down his throat to make himself heave. Being ill would be the only excuse his Sire, Angelus The Scourge of Europe and High Master of the Tremeren Clan, would accept for not attending The Conclave."Why do I have to be here?" He complained looking around, hoping for a last minute rescue before they made it to the meeting hall.
Angel too was not happy to be in Chicago, but the Masters had been called to assemble, and if he and his Clan were to survive, he would have to take a stand and choose his allies. "You're an Heir Apparent, and all Heir Apparents are required to be here." A bad tempered growl as he was in no mood for his Childe's antics.
Heaving another hugely exaggerated sigh, Spike communicated his displeasure. Before leaving LA, his uncle Nic had described to him what a Conclave was like, and shuddering, he remembered his own small experience with rituals and 'the Anointed One'. "A bunch of bloody old, boring poofs who are going to be steeped in their bloody old, boring rituals." He grumbled. "Wish I could stake myself."
"Boy!" Whirling around, Angel had had enough of his Childe's mumbling and grumbling. Grabbing Spike by the duster, he pushed him up against a wall. "You WILL NOT embarrass me in front of the other Masters. You WILL BEHAVE and do what is expected as my Blood-Childe and Heir Apparent. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
"Yes, Sire." Casting his eyes down, Spike instantly became submissive. "But since Djoser is your Successor, and he's here, I just don't understand why I have to be here too." The vampire so wanted to be back at their lair in LA, hanging out with his cousin, bullying the minions, and tormenting his Sire's human pets.
"You are a Blood-Childe of our Clan, and one of your duties is to attend functions such as this."
Misery loves company, so Spike started to ask why his cousin, Damon's Blood-Childe didn't have that same duty, but the angry glint in Angel's eye stopped him. But he still voiced a small complaint. "Bloody hell, I know I'm suppose to make nice with the other Masters and their Blood-Childer, but you know I'm no politician. Prefer to make my point with my fists. I'm just going to be a liability here."
"It's time you learned. You're not a fledge anymore. It's time you became responsible as a Blood-Childe and Heir Apparent of our Clan."
"But Djoser is the Successor. Isn't this his duty?" Glancing quickly over at his brother, Spike hoped Djoser wouldn't mind having all the responsibility dumped on him.
"Yes, it is his duty, but it's yours too." Releasing his hold on Spike, Angel gave him another threatening look. "Don't push me, boy." He whispered quietly. "Now is not the time."
"I understand, Sire." Heaving a now silent sigh, Spike knew there was no escape. He was doomed to spend an evening with the ruling Poofs of the vampire kingdom.
**
"The Tzmisces." Judelin who was seated next to Angel whispered softly. "Known for their cruelty and love of torture. They actively seek to divorce themselves from anything human. They. . . ."
"I know who and what they are." Angel interrupted the Ventrue High Master. "My Sire admired them greatly. Admired them so much, he tried to adopt their ways."
"But of course." Judelin's eyes turned back to the spectacle in front of them. "He too tried to reject the human part of himself." The vampire's tone was filled with disapproval.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Angel grunted with annoyance. He didn't like Judelin criticizing his Sire, even though he knew the Ventrue was right. "They think that such a display will intimidate us." He sneered with contempt, as he too turned his attention back to the 'entertainment' of the evening. "But intimidation only pisses me off!"
"I'll remember that." Judelin glanced briefly at Angel out of the corner of his eye while smiling to himself. A pissed off Angelus was just the weapon he needed.
**
Sitting uncharacteristically erect in his chair, Spike was horrified. He wanted to look away, but his eyes had a will of their own, as they continued to stare straight ahead. The scenes that flashed in front of him were scenes of such a cruel nature that even he, William the Bloody, was filled with revulsion.
He understood killing to eat or killing one's enemies, even killing with a bit of torture to make a point. But the Tzmisces were inflicting such unnecessary, unspeakable acts on their poor victims, and for no other purpose than to 'entertain.' Finally able to make his eyes move, he looked sideways at Angel. His Sire sat slightly slouched in his chair, a bored expression on his face.
"Figures." Spike muttered to himself. "The bloody Scourge of Europe wouldn't be fazed by a bunch of ugly, old bats who get their rocks off by watching. . . ." A loud, piercing scream interrupted his thoughts. Flinching in sympathy, he watched as they cut the nipples off of one of their human prisoners.
"Bloody hell." Spike couldn't help but squirm in his seat. "Just eat the poor bastard, and. . . ."
"Boy!" The movement was but a flash, as Angel grabbed Spike by the collar and pulled him down on the floor. "Didn't I tell you to behave?"
"Sire, I. . . ." Spike began a feeble protest but was not able to continue as Angel's fangs tore into the nape of his neck.
**
Regaining consciousness a short time later, the screams still echoed in the large hall, but they were muted, sounding like they came from a great distance. Fear and pain still hung heavily in the air, so Spike was in no hurry to open his eyes. Muscular legs enfolded him, as he realized he was sitting on the floor, wedged between Angel's thighs, head resting on his Sire's hard stomach.
Reluctantly opening an eye, he found himself staring at a slender, naked man, steel collar around his neck, who was also sitting on the floor a few feet from him. Leaning forward slightly Spike breathed in the man's scent. A vampire, not a human. "Sire!" Forgetting himself, he spoke out loudly. "Sire, there's a prisoner who's a. . . ."
A large hand covered his mouth quickly. "Boy, you are not to speak here, unless you're spoken to." Angel hissed out quietly. "You never do what you're told!"
Lowering his head, Spike immediately took a submissive posture. Closing his mouth, he didn't try to speak again. Feigning interest, he looked back to the middle of the room and was immediately sorry. The Tzmisces had gone from cutting off nipples to cutting off a man's testicles. Blood gushed as the scalpel cut through the loose skin.
Inhaling the scent of blood, normally a pleasant odor, Spike felt sick to his stomach. The man's screams were making his ears ring, and the blood scent was so tinged with fear and pain that it smelled rancid. Nerves on edge, he began to breath in and out like a human.
"William?" His Sire's voice was a welcome distraction.
Looking up, Spike noticed that both Angel and Judelin, the Ventrue High Master, were staring at him. Scratching behind his ear nervously, he felt only shame. He was still a sorry excuse for a vampire. To be revolted by torture was so undemonly.
Straightening his shoulders, Spike tried to control his breathing, tried to appear unaffected by the evening's 'entertainment.' To divert his attention from the center of the room, his eyes scanned the audience attempting to pick out Djoser and Damon, who had been seated away from them. Hundreds of vampires formed a circle in the large meeting hall, and he was finding it hard to locate his brother and uncle.
Vision beginning to blur, Spike tried to focus his eyes, but a fog began to settle in his head. A push into his consciousness and everything went black.
**
Waking up a short time later, Spike found himself on a small sofa in the men's lounge. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at the mesmerizing figure of Judelin, the Ventrue Master. Sitting upright quickly, he looked around wildly for his Sire.
"He will be here in a moment, Childe." Judelin spoke, knowing who Spike was looking for.
"Where is he?" Trying to appear composed, even though inside he was panicking, Spike couldn't understand why Angel left him alone with their enemy.
"The High Master of the Tzmisce Clan requested a private conference with your Sire. Angelus is admired by many here."
"No wonder the Poof's head is so fat." Spike couldn't help but mutter this softly. "But why are you here? My brother or uncle. . . ."
"Are with him." Judelin interrupted. "And I gave your Sire my word that I would look after you while they were occupied. I promised no harm would come to you."
"Doesn't necessarily make me feel better." Staring at the Ventrue, Spike calculated his chances of pushing past the older vampire and running through the door.
Reading his mind, Judelin regally sat down in a chair while giving Spike a smile. "Do not waste your energy, Childe. You will never make it past me. Besides you are safe here with me. Outside. . . ." He made a small motion toward the door. "There are only Tzmisces and. . .others who would love to take a bite out of a beauty like you."
Leaning back, Spike knew that Judelin spoke the truth. He was safer with the Ventrue than the Tzmisces. "And that basically sums up our choice, doesn't it?" He pulled out a cigarette, not caring that he was in the presence of a High Master. "It's either you or them."
"Smart Childe." Judelin whispered softly as the door opened and Angel entered, followed by Damon and Djoser. "Angelus." Standing up, the Ventrue turned to Angel. "As you can see, I am a man of my word. Your beloved Childe is safe and sound."
"I never doubted you for a moment." Angel faced Judelin. "Right now you wouldn't harm a hair on either of my Childer's heads because you. . . ." He took a step closer to the Ventrue Master. "Want me."
"I do." Judelin admitted. "And so does Baduna, the Tzmisce High Master. You are the force that will tip the scale. But I am sure you have already figured that out."
"Yes." Angel went over to sit down by Spike. "Baduna was quite anxious for me to join him. So anxious that he offered me. . . ." Taking the cigarette out of Spike's fingers, he closed his hand, crushing it. "Some very tempting incentives."
"But we both know that they mean nothing to you compared to. . . ." Judelin gave Spike a meaningful look before turning to leave. "You know where to contact me Angelus. I will be waiting."
"He'll be waiting for wh. . . ?" Spike's question was cut off as Angel bent down to kiss him gently on the mouth.
"Come, Childe." Standing up, Angel held out a hand. "It's time to leave."
"Thank the frigging gods." Spike took Angel's extended hand, letting his Sire help him to his feet. "Hate this place." He couldn't help but comment.
"I know you do." Angel wrapped a strong arm around Spike, pressing his Childe close to him. "But don't worry, we won't be coming back here ever again."
****
Finis