Checkmate

In the coming weeks, Adrian flew back to his home in Milan, his werewolf seneschal greeting him kindly, and not questioning the sling his right arm was in, nor his master's silence. Ivan found himself roving, restlessly, attempting to keep his more prurient thoughts on his own sire, but his mind always wandered back to Adrian. He visited friends, who found him rougher and more cruel than usual, less quietly dangerous. He tortured other friends with bored impunity, but it did not please him, nor distract him from Adrian's claret eyes, his gentle hands, his lean, fencer's body. Finally, angered by the invasion of his thoughts by this man, he booked a flight to Milan, and found himself on the doorstep of Castle Sforza without ever having been there. The seneschal greeted him at the door; a proper-looking gentleman in his 40's with dark graying hair, soft brown eyes, and a quietly amused demeanor.

"May I help you, signore?"

"Yes, is your Master at home?"

"Yes, signore, he is in the garden. Would you like to meet him there, or wait in the drawing room?"

"I'll wait," he said tightly.

"May I ask who is calling?"

Ivan reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a white business card, handing it over without a word. The seneschal bowed briefly and stepped off to where Adrian was standing out in the garden, inspecting a particularly lush cherry tree in the early spring twilight. "Somebody to see you, my lord," Bernard said offering him the card with a look of mild confusion on his face. "I would not have let him in without ID, but he seemed vaguely familiar, somehow. He's in the drawing room, waiting for you."

Adrian looked at the card. All it said in large, bold black letters was:

"I. C. U."

By the time Adrian got to the drawing room Ivan had finished setting up his chessboard and was waiting patiently behind it, his usual air of annoyance now tempered by something a little distracted. Adrian sat opposite him calmly, and made his first move without meeting his quiet gaze. "What brings you to my neck of the woods, Urbane? Not finished torturing me? I suppose I had that one coming…"

Wordlessly, Ivan reached across the table and stroked his cheek, stopping Adrian dead in his tirade. Adrian finally looked up and noticed something entirely different in the normally reserved, mildly psychotic demeanor of his old friend, two wickedly uneven emotions battling on his handsome face;

Adoration,

…and fear bordering anger.

"What is it, Ivan?"

Ivan suddenly leaned forward and kissed Adrian on the lips, passionately in an almost proper manner, one hand clutched in his thick black hair, his hat off in his other hand. When he sat back down, his expression lapsed swiftly back to anger, and he hissed angrily, "What have you done to me, damn you?"

"What have I done? What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I am talking about, Adrian! What the hell are you doing in my head?"

Adrian thought on this for a moment, then remembered that although Ivan was 200 years a vampire, he had been in a deep sleep since about a week after his change until only recently. He knew very little about what a vampire was capable of, even if a master of illusion in his own right. He had no idea what he had done when he had gorged on Adrian's blood.

"You do realize that we're Blood Bonded, now?" he said quietly.

Ivan looked stunned for a long minute; a thousand thoughts in his head making it spin uneasily, "Does that mean you are in my head, now?" He slumped in his chair, looking despondent.

"I don't control you, if that's what you're afraid of, no more than you analyzing my psyche makes you control mine. It's just a bond, and sometimes we can hear when the other person needs help, and we can come to them. Or just to know you are not the only monster in the world. Is something wrong?"

Ivan looked irritated, "My worries have nothing to do with you, Adrian, don't flatter yourself."

Adrian noted the lingering doubt on Ivan's face, but let him have his dignity for the moment. He grinned slightly, "How long will you be staying with us?"

"Until I decide to leave!" Ivan snorted, then cooled some, looking away. "How long can I stay?"

"As long as you like, my household is yours, friend. You can either have your own private chambers in the East Wing…

…or there is room in mine…"

La Fine