February 4, 2007
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Blood Bonds Chapter One
I'll update this one whenever. Enjoy.
Quick warning: Contains shounen-ai. No lemons or anything (as of yet. my muse likes to surprise me). Just sayin'.
Blood Bonds: Chapter One: Running Away Disclaimer: Azazel belongs to my friend, Sara Brown. I'm only using him because she said I could. Vlad and pieces of the plot are mine.
“Get away from me!”
He was running, but from what he had no idea. The world around him was nothing but an endless pit of black. Fear kept him from looking back, even if he had no idea what exactly was pursuing him. No matter how much he tried to make himself look back, he could never face the thing that was chasing him. He promised himself that this wouldn’t happen again. That he’d finally face the thing and his fear that had been haunting him for the past year and a half.
By some miracle or his own will power, he finally stood still, legs not pumping him toward the salvation that never seemed to come. He turned around, and for the first time in all the time he had this dream that cast terror into his heart, both here and the waking world. A dark being with seemingly glowing eyes the color of sparking shallow seas stood before him. Raven hair cast a dark aura around him that deeply contrasted his pale skin that was covered in black leather pants, tank top, and assorted belts looping around his arms. Arms folded in front of a bread chest, the man stood a few feet away, stern expression never faltering.
“You’ve been running a long time, Azazel.”
Silver eyes widened in both shock and horror. This stranger knew his name? But how…
“For the longest time I tried to reach you. Why are you so afraid?”
“Stay away,” Azazel muttered, taking a step back, his will power fading rapidly.
Shaking his head, the stranger softened his expression. “You knew the tie was coming, Azazel. You’ve known for a very long time now. Don’t resist the calling anymore.”
“Stay away,” Azazel yelled, watching the darkness of his dream world being ripped apart by a blinding golden light. A face appeared, one that he learned so very long ago to fear and one that he had to face when he woke up from this nightmare, behind the strange man who didn’t seem to notice. Deep brown eyes stared out of a fairly tanned face that was outlined by heavy dark brown locks. A crocked smile lay on the smooth features, with an elongated canine draping over its lips.
“Go away,” Azazel yelled again. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
Finally looking behind him, the man clad in black leather narrowed his eyes at the sight behind him.
“I have already claimed him, Vlad,” the face sneered. “You’re too late.”
“Mason,” Vlad yelled as the face began to fade away. “I told you not to meddle in my affairs!”
For Azazel, that’s when everything went black.
~*scene change*~
He wanted to be anywhere then where he was at the moment. Consciousness was just as kind as his dreams, which wasn’t very. He felt small nips on the back of his neck, ones that told him that he was in for a lot more pain and yet another reason that he just wanted to die, to let go of this life that had held nothing but torture and endless suffering.
“He’ll keep on coming to you,” Mason said, nipping Azazel’s ear. “And until he stops, I can’t allow you to be alone.”
“Not again,” Azazel whimpered, knowing full well that his pleas would go unheard.
“There has to be another way,” Azazel said, feeling the familiar scrape of fangs over his skin. “One that doesn’t hurt so much…”“Your blood, your mind, your soul,” Mason said, the ritual once again starting. “They all belong to me and me alone.”
And with those words, Azazel was clutched to the cold body behind him, a flash of pain burning in his skin where the fangs breached it. It felt as if every part of his mind and soul were bared out before the other man. His veins screamed once again of being depleted, as his heart and soul cried out to be hidden back in the dark, bared to no one but themselves so that maybe, it would be special in some way. That he would be worth more then he knew he was at these moments in time.
Carefully, Mason retracted his fangs, closing the wounds by laving them with a blood soaked tongue. Shuddering, Azazel never felt so cold before. The vampire most likely took more then he usually did. All that meant for him was that the darkness that always came after a ‘feeding’ would come that much sooner, along with a rather coveted dreamless sleep.
Mason watched Azazel start to doze, and sighed a heavy sigh. Vlad would not get this one from him. He had found this lonely soul and decided to try to save him, even convince him to become one of his kind. Hopefully, Azazel would agree and maybe even accept his proposal for a more intimate relationship. But Vlad…he was a problem that won’t go away, claiming that he sought out the mortal first. That couldn’t be. There was no clear evidence of claiming marks or any other indication besides the fearful dreams that had Azazel so scared of sleeping that he did this out of pity. Just so the mortal could sleep and maybe even forget everything that he had seen.
A little more of him was open each time he sunk his teeth in and grazed his thoughts, hopes, and even dreams, even if those consisted of finally being free. That had to be one of the downside of feeding like that, where he would just try to pull everything out with the essence that would keep his powers up to speed and his mind coherent and not constantly thinking of the blood that no longer flowed in his veins, he was able to see the scared little child behind the mask of an adult, which no one was supposed to witness.
Fingers lightly touching extremely pale blond hair that shimmered, even in the almost non-existent light, Mason sighed as he looked over the thin frame. Apparently, Azazel hadn’t been eating what he had the servants bring up. Either that or he had a really fast metabolism. Pale skin almost glowed in the light from the current amount of blood loss, and he knew that the usually sparkling silver eyes would be dull with the way he passed out. Flawed yet so perfect in his eyes, he didn’t want to hurt him anymore. But with all the interference of the others lately, he couldn’t help but to make sure that they stayed at bay, which meant hurting this poor creature before him.
Getting up, Mason took one look back at the sleeping Azazel before deciding that he should get ready for the night. He had a lot to do, dealing with the rest of his coven and the rascals of the others, even some leaders in some cases. Like Vlad, who kept claiming that the mortal was his and should be turned over to him. Sighing, already getting a headache from the rival coven leader, Mason left the room, intent on at least trying to get Azazel to drink and nibble something when he woke up. Having him die now just wouldn’t be beneficial to any of them.
~*scene change*~
Vlad paced his deemed ‘thinking room’, wondering how in the world to get Azazel back. The other had no idea that they were connected, that he had to wipe the memory of him clean so that they could be a lot happier. In fact, it was his fault in the first place, brining him here still as a mortal. It was back then his sire, the previous leader of the coven, was alive and forbade any mortal from entering the premises. When he attacked Azazel, he was scared and so shot him with a silver bullet through the forehead, killing the vampire instantly. The poor mortal was so shaken up about it that he had to wipe the memories of him and the incident clean and had to start with him from scratch. It was then that Mason found him, and this whole disagreement started.
“Azazel,” Vlad sighed, finally opting to sit down after fearing that he would eventually wear a hole out in the Persian rug. “What the hell have I done to loose you again?”
There had to be a way to get the mortal back on his side, if that was ever possible. Maybe Mason was right, maybe it was too late for him. That sent a shudder down his spine. To loose that piece of his soul again, the only being in the life and afterlife that was able to break thought his shell taken away forever. That just didn’t sound too good from his perspective. Although he did feel sorry for Mason, loosing one mate already due to the Hunters that were constantly trying to wipe them out, even those that had done no wrong. But that was no reason whatsoever to try to take what was rightfully his.
Well, if Azazel wanted to come back to him that was. If not, if he truly had lost the other, then he would just have to get over it. As painful as that sounded, he couldn’t just kill them both. If Azazel found happiness, that should just make everything easier to bear, but the way he screamed in that dream, that look of horror and dread on his face, he knew otherwise. And it was killing Vlad slowly on the inside, to know that he didn’t want to start a war that would most likely end up killing Azazel, something he knew that he wouldn’t be able to deal with.
A knock on the door brought him out of his musings, which he was somewhat thankful for since it was doing nothing more then depressing him. Although he was curious to who it was, since few dared to even cross his path yet try to talk to him when he was brooding. He wasn’t head of the coven for nothing after all.
“Enter,” he said harshly, wiping away all traces of his once forlorn expression.
“Master,” a timid little violet –haired teen voice said, cracking open the door. “There is a visitor here to see you…”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Shade,” Vlad sighed, getting up. “I told you that your sire wasn’t supposed to make one so young, it was of no fault of yours that he was punished.”
“Yes master,” Shade said, backing away slowly.
Sighing again, pinching the bridge of his nose, Vlad couldn’t believe that Shade was only fifteen and already immortal. Being shy didn’t help one bit, and it had become worse when he killed the one who made Shade a vampire in the first place, which made the timid teen even more shy around him, to the point of being scared even. He would have to show the little fledgling that he would teach him everything he would ever need to know, and not to be so scared of everything that moved in the house.
Heading down to the foyer, he spotted Mason immediately, and had to do everything in his power not to jump the other vampire and demand that Azazel be allowed to go. The look of fear and horror still stuck in his mind, and it was a look that he never wanted to see on his beloved’s face ever again. Something he knew that he would have to express in a different way. He had to be a ‘big boy’ about this whole mess, especially if he didn’t want to start a war. The coven wars had finally come to an end not even two centuries before, and he wasn’t willing to start them up again. He had lost too many good friends to that stupid war, and knew that he would loose a lot more if he went through with it.
“To what do I owe this rare pleasure,” Vlad said, eyes narrowed and expression dripping with hate. Just because he couldn’t jump Mason didn’t mean he couldn’t make his feeling toward this whole situation known.
“You lost him, Vlad,” Mason growled. “He’s mine now. You had your chance, and you lost it. You should have protected him better, something I plan to do. You’re not the only one who’s been trying to reach him, and quite plainly I’m getting sick and tired of having to put up with soul-marking him every single time you and whoever else decide that they are going to try their hand at taking him away from me.”
“He’s not Morgan,” Vlad replied. “And he will never be able to replace him. Just remember that. Azazel is kind where Morgan wasn’t. He’s mortal where Morgan had been a vampire for how many years before you met him?”
Growling, Mason’s irises began to take on a light crimson sheen. “You leave him out of this!”
“He’s not going to be able to replace what you lost,” Vlad said, rejoicing on the inside since he had found such a tender nerve in the other. Well, Mason wanted to play dirty, and Vlad could dish it back. “I would know. I have yet to find anyone who could replace Azazel.”
“You did that to him,” Mason shouted. “You made him into the mess I found him in. He would scream and not know why. He would try to kill himself for no reason since he had no idea what made the thought come to him in the first place. You almost killed him, Vlad, and I came by just in time to pick up the pieces and put them back together. You don’t deserve him.”
“Then why do you keep him locked up like that then,” Vlad replied. “You keep him like a wild animal, caged and under your total control. Do you really thing you’re doing anything better? Because from the looks of things, he’s terrified of you.”
“Don’t tell me something I already know,” Mason growled, turning to leave. “It’s because of all the times that I had to reinforce my claim on him that he is. That’s your fault too. Stay away from what is mine!”
“He’s not anyone’s,” Vlad responded, knowing full well that he was most likely the last person that Azazel would ever want to see either, especially if he ever regained the memories that he took. “I at least allowed him to make a choice if he wanted to stay or not.”
Snorting, Mason left, slamming the door on his exit.
“Master,” Shade said timidly, peaking from around a corner. “Why is Mason so intent on keeping Azazel? I remember him, he was always so understanding of us…so concerned for my well being…”
“He wants to find another Morgan,” Vlad replied simply, heading into the living area. It was lightly furnished with one couch and a lounge chair and a widescreen television on the farthest wall in plain view from the whole room. Plopping down in the lounge chair, head sinking into his hands, Vlad took in a deep breath. Maybe he should allow Azazel to remember what happened, and maybe then he would forgive him? No. Not yet. Not with Mason so intent on keeping everyone out like he was
“Master,” Shade asked, tilting his head.
“Shade, I think I fucked up royally this time,” Vlad replied. “Really fucked up good.”
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