A/N: Here is Eight, we introduce a few new characters in here, hope you dig 'em. I'm not really liking this chapter myself. But hey, it's a chapter and it's up for your reading pleasure.

Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers!

Beta'd by the friggin awesome writer/beta/fp-reader, Esquirella!

Chapter Eight

"Come, my love," Kieran said, tugging at the sheet that covered his mate's body. "You cannot lay abed forever."

"No, but I can try," Gabriel murmured, tugging the thin covering tighter about his body. It was true he had been lazing about the past three days. But then, what did he have to get up to? Another night? Another view of the endless darkness he would be subjected to for the rest of his life? He hadn't been exactly fond of the mysterious nothingness before he became this thing. He knew he wouldn't like what there was to see now - when all the mystery was gone and these eyes of his showed him exactly what was blissfully hidden before.

"You know, were you to actually come and see through your new eyes, my love, perhaps you would not think so cruelly of the night."

"How could I not think it when it creates and holds things like you," the youth said softly, the scoff in his voice evident, however.

"And you," Kieran snapped, his fangs snapping together loudly as he clenched his jaw.

That damn boy's little sardonic, if at times witty, remarks were going to be the end of him- and his control. He was being as kind as he could to a mate that insulted him at every turn. Not to mention denied him what was his right to have ... his acceptance, respect and his body.

Oh and did he want the boy's body. He felt torn terribly however when he merely thought of it. He wanted to be gentle, slow, wait to be given that body. Yet did he also wish to merely take it, to make the boy to struggle even as he cried out in pleasure. These past days he had begun to have very vivid fantasies, wanting nothing more than to tie his young love up and have his every want and whim carried out. He wanted to possess the boy ... to own him, to care for and love him.

He wanted to throw him upon the floor and ravish him.

He ran his hand over his face, taking in a breath as he did so. He watched the expelled air disperse in the cold room before looking back at his mate. This was getting ridiculous. The boy refused to do anything he asked, didn't even speak to him unless it was a snide remark. He refused to feed unless he was put into a trance. He didn't understand. Gabriel had been so kind, so accommodating and accepting when he had first arrived, why had that changed?

He knew the answer before he even finished the question. The boy felt betrayed ... he felt trapped and no longer himself. And he wasn't, at least physically. His thoughts and mind were still his own, still the same. Just shared ... As it should be, with his mate. He could explore Kieran's mind as well if he would take the initiative. Not that he would bother, at least not now.

Kieran strived for patience. This boy was, after all, his other half, the very reason for his existence. He had waited hundreds of years for this boy to be born, to grow and to be found. And now that he had him, he was so overwhelmed with want, love - frustration. Yet could one only be so nice. He had treated his love with every courtesy, or at least every one he could afford without giving him up. He had allowed him time, was still giving him leeway by not taking him in his present lust clouded manner.

With a soft growl Kieran rose, yanking the sheet from around the boy and, quite literally, picking him up out of the bed. Holding him just away from him, beneath his arms, he shook him a bit. "You will stop it!"

Gabriel swallowed, fear enveloping him as he looked down into those neigh glowing eyes, alight with violence he was sure Kieran was capable of.

Kieran shook him again, "I said stop it!"

"I can't! Why don't you just leave me alone? You've scared the hell out of me! Are you happy now?" Gabriel shouted, the tremor in his voice resounding clearly.

He was terrified of Kieran and confused as to why. He knew instinctively the man would never harm him - well, no more than he had already. He knew that everything Kieran did was for his well being. He wasn't sure how he knew, and didn't understand why the hell he believed it after what the bastard had done to him. But the choice seemed like had almost been taken from him. Even his treacherous body seemed to recognize the older man's, seemed to almost long for it. It seemed to call out in need, for the man's presence, his touch. It was ridiculous, the way his body acted so. He toyed with the idea of the vampire having brainwashed him or such nonsense, but he could hardly deny that he had felt something rather similar to this before, when he was human. Only it had not been anywhere near as strong. Hell, he had even felt a compulsion when he was merely chatting with the man over the Net.

Kieran sat on the edge of the bed once more, pulling Gabriel upon his lap and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He had been damn close to losing his temper and at this point he just he couldn't afford to lose it. He couldn't afford to lose what little bit of ground he had made with his mate. Gabriel's thoughts had pleased him though. It made him happy that the youths thoughts were more often than not always on him.

"Oh stop pouting, love. I'm sorry I was so snappy, but I am hardly a patient man. In fact I'm rather inpatient. Particularly when it comes to something I want so much."

Brushing back a black strand of hair out of Gabriel's face, he kissed his temple.

--------

Arturo sucked on his teeth, his head nodding slightly in acknowledgement. He was sitting in his assigned chair, surrounded by the other elders of the city and those of whom belonged to them. The topic of the night, as it had been for the past few months, was the massive murdering- or rather the results of which that had been picked up by the police a few days before. Odd, but one would think that being a vampire would be like having a license to kill, and in a way it is. But there is a huge difference between killing to feed, to survive, and murdering for the pleasure of it. Each person about the table had seen the photographs of the bodies, each individual victim had a different theme to his or her murder yet were they all gruesome and no doubt painful.

"I tell you a vampire has a right to kill those bastards! They're cattle- what other purpose do they have?"

"I agree. We are the superior species! We -"

"Must balance all species. Not just our own. Murder is murder, gentlemen. These killings were not to feed, they were for pleasure. A pleasure that one should not indulge in-"

"Who is to say one shouldn't? I love a messy kill -"

"How long do you think it will take for this person to move from killing weak humans to the challenge of a testy vampire?" Arturo snapped, cobalt blue eyes pinning the man in his seat. How dare he interrupt him? "You people do not seem to understand. A human murderer is one thing - weak, confused, scary only to his own kind. A vampire-murderer is capable of anything, crazy enough to kill anything. I have a feeling none of you would enjoy being made into what those people were made into." The blond sighed, striving for calm in the presence of these uppity vampires, lazy men who had their food hunted down for them, who sat at a table bickering over the problems of the vampire race with no plans to do anything about it. "This person should be found and gotten rid of before we become his next targets - or worse, his killings bring us into the human media."

There was silence about the room at the man's words. All eyes were staring first at him and then to the head of the table. All stared at the white haired vampire, his skin smooth and flawless, his face ageless but beautiful. He seemed both feminine and masculine, holding a firm grasp on both yet being neither. He seemed both soft and unbearably hard. Cold. Yet was he the one they looked to ... looked to for advice and influence. He was the oldest within this particular fold. Lochlan. It was the only name he answered to. No name followed it, no title before it. He was neither better nor worse than the others. He was both, as he was in everything.

Lochlan sat a long moment, his powder blue eyes staring off into the distance before abruptly resting on Arturo. "He is right," he raised a sleek brow at the outraged gasps that went about the table, "Did you really expect me to answer differently? You are all idiots, all but a few. Insisting that you are untouchable but residing just under the taint of pure evil… and there is such a thing. There are worse things out there than us, andyou all would do well to remember that. You protect those whom should not be protected. Cheer for a killer that could bring about the knowledge of us." His voice was a soft taunt, a dripping poison, but beautiful all the same. Emotionless. He snapped his teeth together sharply as a man moved to open his mouth, the sound echoed throughout the room. "Arturo, you will be given the task of finding this fiend. Indeed, I would trust no other to do it." And with that he rose, leaving the room in silent awe.

--------

"Stop! Stop! Please for the love of -" The screaming was abruptly silenced by a hard hit to the person's throat. The short spikes on the mallet digging into the delicate flesh, tearing it, bruising, creating a beautiful picture to the eyes of its torturer.

The blond chuckled, raising his hand to his mouth as he laughed heartily. Raising his free hand to the wound he pinched a piece of torn flesh between his fingers. Still snickering he jerked the piece away from the body. Overcome with giggles as the flesh gave way to the waterfall of blood and the gaping mouth of his victim.

"Aw, a fish. Perhaps I should gut you then, huh?"

He didn't think twice before his nails were lengthened and plunged into the thing's gut, tearing the belly and opening a crescent shaped hole, he watched in fascination as the entrails quite literally fell to the floor.

"Why don't I ever get to play anymore?"

The blond blinked, rising from his crouched position to tilt his head at the younger vampire. He had allowed the man to help him for sometime now, and he had become very pleased with him. For indeed he never spoke out against anything that was done to those he would lure down into his depths. He was always silent, releasing naught but a faint snicker every now and again at a victim's boast or prayers. But never, ever, had he questioned him.

"Play?" he finally got out, his voice low, and his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yea, I bring all of these people down here for you. And I do enjoy watching, very much so. But some of them you could at least let me play with."

"Have you forgotten why you are here, ingrate?" he growled, his nose curling as blood began to rush through his body, signifying his rising temper.

"No, I haven't. But God, boss -"

"There is no room for such in this place! You will never speak of a God in this place. I am God here!" the blond sneered, his hand clenching tightly on the metal mallet in his hand, as blood dripped from it, and tiny pieces of flesh dangling from the sharper side. "You, boy, seem to have forgotten your place," he said menacingly as he slowly started forward.

"I-I'm sorry, I really am. I just-"

"You just what? Wish to take my glory? Or do you wish to suffer the fate of these peasants?"

The younger vampire's lip trembled a bit as the older came forward, the weapon gleaming in the dim light, promising a brutal death. He waited until the man came upon him before dropping to his knees, wrapping his lithe arms around the blond's waist. "I want you, sir. Not any of that."

The blond paused, staring down at the brunette pressed so intimately against him. The contact stirred his lower regions even more so than the torturing of his lest victim. Dropping the mallet he threaded his hand through the younger vampire's chestnut locks, before abruptly jerking his head back and away from him. He stared hard into those eyes, those cold yet somewhat weak eyes that looked up at him with a mix of fear and want. He smiled. "You are a good boy, love. Now show your master how much you appreciate him."

--------

Arturo sighed as he walked through the masses of half lings, newly changed vampires, and their feasts for the night. He didn't even blink when he saw a young girl run out before him, closely followed by two of his own kind, merely shoving her away when she begged for help, clutching his shirt with bloody hands. Hands that were soon gripped by the two that followed so closely and dragged away with a whimper and plea. He heard her scream as he walked by, heard the gurgle of blood and the tearing of flesh, signifying the feeding that had begun upon the girl's body.

He supposed in another time, in another place where he was human and actually gave a fuck, he would have helped the girl ... saved her from the terror that now surrounded her. But this wasn't that time and as long as those who had her actually fed off of her then it wasn't his problem. It was considered cruel to kill and torture if one did not feed off of the victim.

Finding a particularly dark corner overlooking the central area of this underground playhouse, he sat. Blue eyes watched those around them with a supposed keen disinterest that burned into each and every being within and sending a frightful chill though everyone they rested on. Arturo didn't flinch as frightful, horrific images filled his mind, things of nightmares, things of hell and yet he pushed on. Each image coming from a different being, but none what he was looking for. He had went through but half the people in the room and already he felt his power start to drain, a lower vampire could take but one, possibly two beings' images into himself and for days be drained. The blond had taken over thirty and his labored breathing told of just how strenuous this mission was.

There could be no help for it. He would have to ask for help. The problem was he only knew of one other vampire he trusted and that one no doubt had a pissed off mate on his hands.