Thralls

Thralls, chapter 29

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Lorne sat in the new meeting room. He was wearing a pair of Angel's trousers, and the fit was nearly perfect, if a few inches too short. Of the others in the room, perhaps only Riley could have provided the green Pylean Host with clothes that weren't too small or tight, or way short. Xander's would have been too large, though still too short, the hyena-boy was packing some serious muscle.

Lorne drew the line at fatigues, khakis and jeans. He never wore them. The were just too...ordinary. Angel had no penchant for color, so Lorne was wearing black in a very nice lightweight wool. The black pants were not a bad match at all with his pale blue suit jacket, and darker blue shirt. The red tie didn't even clash. He let his finger's wander over the soft fabric. It even felt expensive. Very nice.

Spike was seated nearby. Lorne watched Angel's Childe, while Wesley wheeled the newly laden cart in. In contrast to all the other vampires of his acquaintance, the platinum haired one seem to actually be salivating over the prospect of having his taste of tea. He thanked Wes with sincerity, and lifted the delicate cup to his lips, sipping, eyes drifting shut in what could only be bliss. He didn't even hear Angel calling him. Lorne found it...fascinating to watch. Angel cleared his throat, and Lorne was sure he saw a tiny smile, a mere crook of the older vampire's mouth, a smile of patient indulgence.

"William." Angel said when Spike didn't appear to be surfacing soon. Looking like an old time potentate Angel sat, surrounded by his harem of lovelies. Graham on the arm of the wide chair. Xander on the other side, shirtless, his muscles flexing, Riley sitting cross-legged, napkin in hand as he dried the vampire's feet. Angel's long, pale, bare feet catching the attention of nearly everyone in the room while Riley worked on them.

"Childe." Spike sipped again, sighed. A smile of his own stealing over his face. Riley finished and set Angel's foot down. Angel lifted it and set it, dry now, in his thrall's lap. Riley covered it with the open napkin, then his hand, flushing.

"Spike." Angel raised his voice. At last the other vampire was startled out of his reverie, blinking.

"Enjoying your tea?" Angel asked, an edge to his words. He beckoned the other to come to him. With obvious reluctance Spike did. Angel held out his hand, a drop of blood trembling on the tip of one finger, full, pregnant, ready to fall. And suddenly Spike was not at all reluctant. He shot a glance at his Sire, as he moved his cup under the precious drop. He counted the drops as they fell. Three. Six. Angel nodded at him, and Spike returned to his seat cradling the cup as if it were the elixir of eternal life. Doyle looked away, a pained expression on his face.

Lorne leaned back and put his arm around Fred's narrow shoulders. The undercurrents here didn't seem to make their way into her awareness. Lorne was grateful.

Wesley moved the cart, filled the other cups in front of Angel, pouring then holding them out to the vampire for his donation of blood. That went along for the thralls, who all reached for the cups without any hesitation, though tea was not their usual beverage. Xander reached out with open eagerness, as did the other two vampires. Each vampire reaching with blatant hunger for the cups carried over to them. The vampires actually rising to their feet to accept the tea, the black and the green eyes shining.

Lorne was relieved to see that he was given tea without the extras. He wasn't at all sure he would have had the will to decline the blood tea. He had had it before. A long time ago. He still remembered it. But he was given plain tea, and so his dilemma was forestalled.

Fred, and Doyle received their unsullied cups, and Lorne was sure he didn't imagine the clenching of Doyle's jaw. Lorne also accepted the plate with the sweet biscuits on it. They were very good he decided, letting one melt on his tongue as he waited for everyone to be served. Doyle drew his feet up onto the couch, huddling in the corner, eyes staring out into mid air, at nothing. Lorne frowned. He was worried about his friend.

At last Wesley poured his own cup, squeezed in a bit of lemon and sat on the edge of a chair. He glanced up at Angel, then his eyes wandered against his will towards the dark vampire who sat perfectly correct, upright in his own chair, fighting to raise his tea to his lips and sip at it, rather than gulping it down. Fighting to keep his fangs from extending. The black eyes never looked in the human's direction. Lorne felt the connection between them as clearly as if they were touching one another.

Doyle looked unhappily into his cup. Angel watched him as he took a disinterested sip of his tea. Always pale, Doyle was now white, even the normal pink of his lips gone. Angel saw the trembling hand, the averted gaze. He needed to look into that, and soon. But not this instant. He turned to Lorne.

"Tell me what the others are saying." Angel started in. Voice deceptively lazy, with nothing more than a mild curiosity to remark on. Lorne was not surprised by that, Angel was a good politician when he had to be.

"They are upset that you have begun this without consulting any of them." Lorne answered honestly.

"This?" Angel smiled, mildly. But it was very apparent he wanted to laugh. Lorne felt the first stirring of unease. As if he was having a premonition, that this was not going to go as well as the others hoped. A show of force, of unity, and Angel would back down, things would return to normal. The new vamps would leave town. It wasn't that they were too many in number, it was that all the new ones were old, and powerful. And from all reports, loyal to Angel.

Lorne leaned forward. "We have many members from Europe and Asia who now choose to live here. They have told the rest of us more about the the old world courts. I have heard of them before, the subject is fascinating after all, so many rumors, who knows what is true and what is false? I managed to weed out some of the more fantastic stories, discounting them as unreal, or unlikely, some as impossible to credit as true. Until now. Until I have seen and heard what is happening to you. This is like the vampire equivalent of the holy grail, Angel. It also has the potential to upset the balance of power in LA. So. We are concerned."

Angel toyed with a lock of Riley's hair, as the thrall sat somewhat self-consciously at his feet. The touch was welcome if the position was not, Lorne did not mistake that. Riley leaned into the fingers, a faint motion. Graham was silent, sitting on the arm of Angel's chair, robe closed all the way up to his neck, not an inch more of the brown skin on display than was necessary. Xander was licking his cup clean, having drained it quickly, his tongue just a little too long and agile for a human appendage. Mesmerizingly agile. Lorne shook his head away from that unconsciously erotic image.

"The blood circle is nothing I can stop." Angel said. His brown eyes level and honest. Meeting Lorne's. "Probably the most I can do is to limit it's scope, perhaps to LA, perhaps to Southern California. But, I can not stop it. It is now a matter of...instinct. You know this?" Angel asked.

Lorne nodded. "I was afraid of it. The others will not be happy. LA has been wide open for decades. Any one with balls could come in and set up shop here. Now, you are putting another hitch in business. When you came here, things changed. Now, you are restricting us further. Understandably, there are objections. Some stronger than others." Lorne smiled, not his usual sunny smile. Angel contemplated it even as he gestured to Wesley to refill Xander's well licked cup. Angel bit his finger, and let the blood run into the fresh tea, stirring it with his finger. Xander watched intently, with a dogged patience Lorne had not expected.

Spike let out a small sound as he watched the display of favoritism. He'd not gotten that much blood the first time around. Then he shook his head. No. He was not going to fall into a rivalry with a human-were-hyena-thrall for his Sire's attention. He was Angel's only Childe here. His place was, by ancient tradition, unassailable. It was not a good move on his part to covet Angel's thralls or what those thralls had of their master. Spike allowed himself another sip of the exquisite blood tea. His place was his alone. Spike looked away from Xander's cup.

Angel handed the cup to his thrall. Then held his finger out. Riley, after a serious blush, took the digit into his mouth. Licked it, sucked on it. Until Angel drew it away, healed. Then returned to stroking Riley's dark blond hair, as he continued discussing terms with Lorne.

"It isn't negotiable. I will tear LA to the ground if I have to. I will not be opposed." Angel said, calmly. "However, that is not my first goal, as long as things go smoothly, I will allow business to go on as usual."

"That is awfully high handed, Angel. Not like you at all." Lorne said back. Having a feeling that Angel was actually being generous rather than stubborn. But how would he be able to convince the others that was the case? There were always hot heads who would advocate a strike against Angel and his minions. A fatal mistake, in the large green demon's assessment. The longer he was in Angel's presence, the more he realized the vampire had changed.

"No. Well. I have been forced to this, Lorne, not by my choice, but it is what I am stuck with." Angel said. Letting his eyes sparkle vampire-golden. Letting Lorne look into them, see the difference, sense it more fully.

"Oh, shit." Lorne mouthed silently, Angel smiled and looked away, once he was sure Lorne had seen what he was supposed to see.

"Same old Sire." Spike said into the silence. "Always ending up in charge. Not even your own Sire could stay in control of you, huh, Peaches?"

"William." Angel purred, as Balthazar and Alistair turned to look at Angel. Cups halfway to their mouths, in unison, now frozen, unmoving. "Do you have a point?"

"Only that the demons in question should consider your track record before they discuss the possibility of moving against you. Us." Spike said, thinking that Xander had the right idea, as he looked into his empty cup. He raised it in Wesley's direction. "Any chance of a warm up?" He let his eyes drift over to Angel. "With the extras?"

Wesley looked over at Angel. Angel shrugged. Wesley poured.

Spike reached out, cradled the cup, inhaled the steam rising, the blood tea, the highest tea of all. Angel was up and across the room in an instant, Spike saw him coming, but damn, his Sire was fast. He would have looked like an inept idiot if he tried to react in time, before Angel reached him. So he stayed still, holding his cup. He bowed his head, gave Angel the advantage, not trying to take it himself..

Angel bent down, his scent filling Spike's nostrils. He shuddered, a full body tremor, almost dropping his cup. The blood tea was nothing, no where near as potent as the man himself. That frightened Spike more than anything so far. Vampires would do anything to be near this. The simple idea of maybe having more than just a taste....

The robe fell open, and the pale expanse of Angel's chest was revealed to the rest of the room. "Come on, William. Taste it. Or. Is there something else you'd rather have, Childe?" Spike got the message. He mimicked closing his mouth and zipping it shut. Lowering his eyes to his cup. Sipping. God, it was good. His fangs extended, not just his feeding fangs, but all four. Angel stared at him.

"William. Go see to your thralls." It was a warning. Spike closed his mouth, bent his head, drank the remainder of his tea in two swallows, not letting anyone else in the room get a look into his mouth as he rose to his feet and left the room.

Angel turned. "That is all I have to say for now, Lorne. Talk to the others. Tell them I mean them no harm. I want things to go as smoothly as every one else does. Anything else is bad for business, and bad for LA." He held up his finger as he neared the larger demon. Lorne fought the urge to stand before Angel reached him. He lost the fight. It was overwhelming. He put his cup onto the table top. And with Angel right in front of him, he got to his feet. Looked down the two inch difference in their heights.

"I will pass on the message, Angel." He paused. "Are you sure this is the tone you want to set, sweetie?"

"I need to make it clear where I stand. Where I have to stand, Lorne." Angel waited until he was sure he had the whole attention of the green demon. He put his hands up to Lorne's shoulders. "There is only one way it can be. I will make it as bearable as I can. Tell them." He leaned in a fraction. Then took his hands away.

Lorne stood, dumbfounded. Battling to keep his eyes off the bare skin of Angel's chest. Angel wasn't like this. But. Lorne believed every word he said was true. "I'll tell them. What if they don't agree?"

"Then, they will die. Tell them to talk amongst themselves. Some of them must have lived under the old courts. Ask them. They will know. Remind them of what a blood circle is. The reality, not just the rumor." Angel walked back to his chair. "That is all, Lorne. Go." He lowered himself into the chair.

"I need to be alone. Everyone out." Angel said, his expression returning to the familiar brooding one. Lorne left, though he had a thousand things he wanted to say, to ask, followed by everyone else, Doyle slower than the rest. Angel raised his voice.

"Doyle. Stay. It is past time we talked." Angel touched Graham. "You three, return to my rooms. I will be there soon." Xander frowned, and Angel glared at him. "Do not press me, thrall." He warned. Xander lowered his eyes, Riley and Graham grabbed his arms and pulled him from the room, closing the door.

Doyle was left standing in the center of the meeting room, his back half turned to Angel. His unfinished tea in his hand. He set it carefully on the tea cart. Wes had already lost one of his favorite sets of china. No need to break another.

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Wesley found himself standing next to Balthazar. Wes hit the button to the second floor. He reached out and grabbed the vampire's sleeve as the elevator doors opened, dragging the vampire out with him, the doors sliding closed, carrying the others down to the ground floor. Balthazar flinched away, trying to pull the material from Wesley's grip.

"No. It is a day for talking. Talk to me, 'Zar." The Englishman said, his tone wheedling. "Angel told us to talk. Told you to talk to me. And we haven't. Talk to me." He tugged Balthazar into one of the free rooms and closed the door, leaning back against it.

"He told us to talk." The dark skinned vampire said, tonelessly. "But not to feed. He made it clear. What else is left for me to say if I can't feed from you, human?"

"That is not all. I know it isn't." Wesley reached out, catching the the lapel of Balthazar's impeccable dark suit jacket in his fist. Pulling, succeeding not in moving the vampire, only in bringing himself closer to the other. He trembled from head to foot as the front of both of their bodies came into contact. "It is more. I can feel it."

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