" Harbinger"

Written By: Clara Barton

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The following is an intellectual exercise with no intention of profit. That said, these characterizations, words, and situations are mine. Please ask before reprinting.

Rating: NC 17

A/N: For Duaimei, for the month of June, who requested a 2xMx? and graciously allowed me to add in Trowa and Wufei to make this a 2x3x5xM.

A/N 2: As always, thank you Ro for all the support and beta work.

A/N 3: If you enjoy my work, please consider supporting me on ( backlash ClaraBarton). Even just a few dollars a month makes a huge difference for me - AND you can get fics, like this one, every month as well as the ability to vote on updates and exclusive fics not posted anywhere else.

Warnings: sex, angst, language, blood/gore

Pairings: 2x5xM (that order doesn't really mean anything)

" Harbinger"

Harbinger: chapter 1

"You get that this is a really, really bad idea, right?"

Trowa looked up from shoving another pair of briefs into his duffel bag and gave Catherine an exasperated look.

She had been running with this theme for the last two weeks, ever since Trowa had told her about his Spring Break plans.

There were times when it was nice to have a roommate who thought of herself as his big sister. And then there were times when it started to get irritating. This was one of the latter.

"It's not a bad idea. I have the chance to interview some of the oldest vampires in the world. Do you understand how big this is? For my thesis?"

"And do you understand that this is basically the plot for every vampire horror movie, ever?"

Trowa arched an eyebrow at her.

"Really? Somehow I missed all of those movies with a young history grad student getting invited to spend Spring Break in New York City doing research for his dissertation. That definitely sounds like it would be riveting."

Catherine glared at him.

"Trowa, this is what happened to Keanu Reaves in Dracula!"

"Wasn't he a real estate lawyer or something?"

"Well, yeah, I think so. But the point is - he thought he was just doing his job when Dracula invited him into his lair, and then BAM! Dracula tries to kill him and steal his fiancee."

"I guess it's a good thing I don't have a fiancee."

Catherine's glare intensified.

"What about Interview with the Vampire?"

"What about it? We aren't in Colonial America, and I-"

"No, the end, when Christian Slater and Tom Cruise are-"

"Cathy. You sound ridiculous. My life is not a vampire horror movie. I'm not Keanu or Christian Slater. I'm going to be fine."

"Just… Trowa, you really don't feel scared about the fact that you're going to spend an entire week-"

"Eleven days," he corrected absently, reviewing his duffel bag one last time before zipping it up. "My Monday class was cancelled."

"Eleven days! Trowa! You're spending eleven days with three vampires in their lair!"

Trowa snorted a laugh.

"Cathy, they don't have a lair. They have a Brownstone in New York City. Stop making it sound like I'm hopping in a stage coach and going off to Transylvania. Besides, if this was so dangerous, would Professor Winner really have suggested it in the first place?"

"He's one of them, Trowa," Catherine pointed out.

"One of them?"

"He's a vampire! He's- he's probably on their side. How do you know he's not just… scouting out victims for them, and sending unknowing grad students to their front door for dinner?"

Trowa choked on a laugh and forced himself to regard her seriously.

"Cathy. You really think Professor Winner is a vampire pimp?"

She made an aggravated huff.

"He's been a professor here for fifteen years - don't you think someone would have noticed if he was sending grad students off to their demise?"

"Maybe," she grudgingly admitted.

"Besides," Trowa pointed out as he hefted his duffel bag, "they don't need to trick anyone into becoming their dinner - people buy tickets for the privilege of that."

Catherine muttered something under her breath, no doubt something derisive, but she stepped aside and let Trowa walk out of his room.

His laptop and notebooks were already packed up in his backpack, sitting by the front door, and he picked that up as well.

"I still don't understand how anyone could be crazy enough to want a vampire to drink their blood," Catherine muttered.

Trowa shrugged, and then winced when the shoulder strap of his duffel bag shifted across his throat. He readjusted it.

"Some people enjoy it - it's not supposed to hurt," he pointed out. Although, in this, he was on Catherine's side. Despite the fact that having a vampire drink your blood wasn't supposed to hurt - something about their fangs producing some kind of numbing sensation and their magic making the donor feel pleasure if they consented to allowing the vampire to do it in the first place. There were horror stories, of course, about non-consensual blood-sucking. About vampires going too far and killing their donor.

"Just- be careful, Trowa, please."

He sighed and, after opening the door to their shoebox of an apartment, he turned around and faced her.

"I will be," he assured her.

She didn't look like she believed him, which, all things considered, was fair.

Careful had never been something Trowa did well.

-o-

The flight from LAX to LaGuardia was uneventful, and Trowa took the time to go over the notes from Professor Winner.

Quatre Winner, reportedly one of the ten oldest vampires in the world, had been Trowa's thesis advisor for the past two years, ever since Trowa started his PhD at Stanford with a focus in Vampiric lore and history. Vampires had only been out - had only revealed themselves to be fact and not just nightmare - for ten years. Trowa still remembered that first press conference, when he had been a freshman in high school, and Quatre Winner, as well as a handful of other vampires, had stood in front of cameras and announced to the world that they were real.

Because studying vampires was such a new field, there wasn't much that had been published - which was, on one hand, great for Trowa. It meant he got to be one of the first to delve into this kind of research. But on the other hand, it meant there were not a lot of sources - or classes - on the subject. In undergrad, he had had to cobble together classes in history, sociology and literature to create his own degree in Vampiric lore. If Professor Winner hadn't read Trowa's undergraduate papers, he seriously doubted that Stanford would have even accepted him into their graduate history program. There wasn't a single history department at any of the renown universities in the country that had developed a program that covered Vampires - Winner's own research was on culinary and agrarian patterns in Western Europe. But, for some reason, Winner had argued that Trowa should be admitted as a doctoral candidate, and allowed to pursue his avenue of research.

Once again, Trowa had had to cobble together classes, and for the last four semesters he had had an independent study with Winner that mostly consisted of sitting in the professor's office from midnight until three or four every Wednesday and asking him any question Trowa could think of.

It had been during one of those late night meetings, two months ago, that Winner had suggested Trowa get in touch with a few friends of his - the Harbingers.

Trowa had thought he was joking.

The Harbingers, three of the oldest vampires in the world, weren't exactly in charge of all of the other vampires, but they were old enough, powerful enough, and respected enough to have a great deal of authority over them. According to Winner, the three vampires were, more or less, a kind of ruling council. They give us death, life and justice, Winner had said.

They had come up, in Trowa's research, time and time again - three vampires who had crafted world events for thousands of years and, at least according to Winner, had been the ones to decide that it was finally time to let humans in on the secret of their existence.

For all that, the Harbingers were reclusive - no one really knew their identities. At least, no humans did, and it had taken weeks of persuasion from Winner before they agreed to let Trowa visit them.

Even though Winner had given Trowa explicit instructions on how to greet them, what questions would be off-limits - basically a 'how to not get yourself killed or me embarrassed' guide, Trowa still felt uneasy about the whole thing.

More uneasy than he ever would have let on to Catherine.

For one thing, Trowa wasn't staying at a hotel, but, at Winner's insistence, would be staying with the Harbingers in their Manhattan Brownstone. Being the houseguest of three vampires who controlled death, life and justice was more than a little intimidating.

For another, Trowa was not someone who had ever been considered sociable. He was terrible at small talk - terrible at almost all communication that wasn't a lecture or a debate, according to three exes.

Trowa had a hard enough time feeling comfortable speaking up in his Research Topics study group - drawing three ancient vampires into conversation and not sounding like an idiot was going to be an almost insurmountable challenge.

Still, Trowa reminded himself, this was for his thesis. He could do this. He had to do this.

-o-

He caught a cab from the airport to their home, feeling like a tourist as he pressed his face against the window of the cab to look at the city as they drove through it. He had never been to New York City before, and it was very different than San Francisco - and LA, where he had grown up.

The city was impressive and magnificent, and the historian in him was aching to explore it. He had read so many accounts of underground vampire warrens in the city dating all the way back to the earliest Dutch settlers, and while he had seen photographs, he wanted to look at them with his own eyes.

The cab pulled to a stop in front of a townhouse on 62nd street. Central Park was right there - just a few houses down.

Trowa paid the driver and grabbed his bags, and had to stop and stare.

The house was narrow, but it was huge - at least five stories tall, with a curved face and white stonework.

In the setting sun, it looked very opulent and romantic. And not at all ominous.

Trowa approached the front door and knocked.

After only a moment, it swung open to reveal a slim, dark haired man in a black suit. He lifted his eyebrows at Trowa in question.

"Trowa Barton. I'm-"

"Yes, our guest. Please come in." The man stood aside and gestured for Trowa to proceed him into a massive, marble foyer. On one side of the room, a marble staircase curved up and out of sight, an intricate, wrought iron bannister following the curve.

"Please, set your bags down and I will have them brought to your room." The man indicated a marble-topped table off to one side.

"No, I can carry them," Trowa shrugged off the offer.

"I have no doubt - you seem to be in excellent physical shape. But your hosts are waiting for you in the sitting room."

The man gestured towards the stairs and, with a frown, Trowa set his bags on the table and followed him up to the second floor.

The stairs opened up onto a marble hallway. On the left end of the hall, Trowa could see the furnishings of a dining room, which he thought was ironic. The man led him towards the right, and Trowa followed him into a room illuminated only by an overhead chandelier.

The floor-to-ceiling windows on the far wall were blocked out by curtains, allowing absolutely no light into the room from the fading sun.

The room itself was surprisingly empty. Trowa had half-expected to walk into a museum exhibit - with art on the walls, statuary and sumptuous furniture. Instead, the room was an exercise in restraint. One wall was dominated by a marble fireplace and mantle, with a large mirror hanging over it. The opposite wall, however, was almost completely covered by an enormous mural painting done entirely in black, white, cream and red. It reminded Trowa of a painting he had seen on display in San Francisco once, a Chinese painting of plum blossoms. Just like that painting, there were several lines of calligraphy descending from the far left side of the mural.

Otherwise, the walls were completely bare, and the furniture between them was all low, made of black lacquered wood, and the cream colored cushions of the very long couch and five armchairs all looked like raw silk. A gleaming black grand piano sat near the far window. There was no rug on the floor, and the wood looked as if it had been stained with something dark and red.

It was stunning, but even more stunning were the room's two occupants, a man and a woman. Winner had told Trowa that two of the Harbingers were Chinese - Meilin and Wufei, he had called them, his voice fond.

The woman, Meilin, was reclining on the couch and leafing idly through a magazine. She wore a white pant suit, with nothing under the jacket except for a triangle of skin so pale it rivaled her suit. Her black hair was cut in a bob that followed the sharp line of her chin.

The man, Wufei, was seated at the piano, idly playing it, and he seemed to be wearing traditional Chinese clothing - black pants, a white shirt and a black jacket embroidered with white thread and red trim at the cuffs and collar. His hair, longer than Meilin's, was pulled back into a smooth tail at the nape of his neck.

In the soft light from the chandelier, they looked ethereal and gorgeous. Meilin's skin reminded Trowa of moonlight, while Wufei's looked like pale gold.

Trowa found himself staring at them, unable to decide which one was more perfect.

"Your guest has arrived."

Meilin and Wufei looked up, and Trowa found himself trapped by two sets of shining, dark eyes.

"Excellent," Meilin seemed to purr. She rose to her knees on the couch. "Please see to it that his room is in order while we get to know him."

"Of course, Madame."

"Thank you, Edwin." Meilin smiled, just a slight shift of her pale lips, and Trowa felt his heart skip a beat.

Beside him, the servant - Edwin - bowed his head and turned to leave.

Wufei rose from behind the piano.

"You are exactly as Quatre described you," he said, walking over to Trowa and holding out his hand.

Trowa wasn't entirely sure how to take that.

He shook Wufei's hand, shivering at how cool and smooth the other man's hand was. The vampire's hand, Trowa reminded himself.

"I appreciate your offer to let me interview you two and…" Trowa looked around, but the third of their trio, Duo, was nowhere in sight.

"Our companion has some business to attend to now that the sun is setting, but he will join us later, for dinner," Meilin said, answering his unspoken question.

"Please, have a seat." Wufei gestured to the pair of chairs across from the couch.

Trowa sat down on one, taken aback by how incredible comfortable it was.

Meilin arranged herself back on the couch, stretching out her legs and leaning back against the low armrest.

Wufei looked at her, his eyes traveling the length of her body, and then turned to Trowa.

"Would you like something to drink? We have a full bar." He waved his hand towards a paneled door set into the wall near the marble hallway.

Trowa shook his head. He was tired, after spending most of the day on a plane, and the last thing he wanted to do was be drunk - or even less than sober - around these two. He could practically hear Catherine yelling in his ear Constant Vigilance!, or some other movie quote that she would think was appropriate.

"Quatre said you were one of the most impressive students he has ever mentored," Wufei said, sitting down in the chair next to Trowa.

"Professor Winner is a great teacher," Trowa shrugged off the praise.

"Hm. And what has he taught you about us?" Meilin asked, adding enough emphasis on the word for it to sound like innuendo.

Trowa met her gaze and felt a tingle run down his spine. Her dark eyes seemed full of promise. The promise of what, Trowa wasn't entirely sure.

"He told me that the three of you are the Harbingers. That you… guide the vampire community."

"Guide." Wufei's lips twitched in amusement, and he and Meilin shared a look. "I suppose that's one way to put it. And your academic focus is… vampiric lore?"

"The role of vampiric lore in the intersection of vampire and human cultures," Trowa clarified.

"Hmm. Fascinating."

Trowa couldn't tell if Meilin actually found it interesting or if she was laughing at him.

"And you think we would be an asset to your research?" Wufei asked.

"Professor Winner believes so. The three of you have considerable knowledge."

"True." Wufei and Meilin traded another glance.

Trowa was a little irritated at the way they seemed to find him so amusing.

Winner looked at Trowa - at several of the students - like that sometimes. Amused and proud, as if Trowa was a precocious child.

"Well," Wufei spoke up, "our dinner reservations are in an hour. Perhaps we should allow you some time to refresh yourself?"

Trowa blinked in surprise.

"Dinner reservations?"

"Yes, Wufei is a deplorable cook," Meilin said, sitting up in one smooth, languid motion that drew Trowa's eyes to her slim body and the shifting of the suit jacket over her skin. "And it's our treat."

"I didn't realize…" Trowa stopped talking, remembering Winner's rules for not embarrassing him.

Vampires didn't eat; not food, in any case - they could, but they didn't gain any sustenance from it, and most vampires were unable to taste it.

Winner had told Trowa that the Harbingers would offer him their hospitality - a place to stay, meals - and that their offer was both an indication of their intentions to keep Trowa safe (and alive) and a reflection on their relationship with Winner. The Harbingers would take care of Trowa because Winner was their friend.

Trowa just hadn't realized that would mean going out to dinner. For some reason, he had pictured himself subsisting on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for his stay.

"Do you like red meat?" Wufei asked, standing up, and Trowa stood as well.

"I don't have the chance to eat it very often."

Meilin let out a low, throaty chuckle.

"Wonderful. There's this lovely little South American steakhouse that serves excellent wine. Do you drink?"

Trowa nodded, but he felt uneasy under her attentive gaze. He reminded himself, once again, that being less than sober in the company of vampires was not a good idea.

"Come, I'll show you to your room."

She stood up, smoothing down her trousers and the jacket, and Trowa saw that Wufei's eyes were drawn to her with the same hunger and appreciation that Trowa felt himself.

Meilin was beautiful, glittering, and most certainly dangerous.

Trowa felt Wufei's gaze shift to him, and he looked over, meeting it.

Wufei, Trowa couldn't help but think, was just as beautiful, glittering and dangerous.

Trowa felt a little like a moth being drawn towards a flame.

Meilin started to walk out of the room, and Trowa forced himself to look away from Wufei and follow her.

She led him up another flight of stairs, pausing at the top.

"The library is through there," she waved her hand carelessly towards the right, "and the master suite is through there," she indicated a closed door at the opposite end of the hall.

She started up another flight of stairs, and Trowa continued to follow her. There was yet another marble hall at the top of the stairs, and Meilin turned to the right, leading Trowa to another closed door.

"This is your room, for as long as you are with us," she smiled softly, her pale lips curving upwards.

Trowa realized that he hadn't seen her fangs - hers or Wufei's.

It was, he knew, another indication of just how old they were. Most modern vampires, any turned within the last one hundred years at least, had very pronounced fangs. Some were even visible when a vampire's mouth was in a neutral expression. But the older vampires tended to have smaller fangs - the oldest, like Quatre, had fangs that were barely discernable from human canines.

Meilin opened the door and ushered Trowa into the largest bedroom he had ever seen.

It was easily the same size as the sitting room downstairs, with the same floor to ceiling windows on one wall, and the same sparse, clean decor.

The bed was enormous - so big that Trowa wondered if there was a mattress size that exceeded a king - and covered in a cream, silk duvet that practically called to his tired body.

The walls were free of decor, except for a mirror directly across from the bed, and another, smaller, traditional Chinese painting on the wall above the bed. The floor had the same dark, red stain to it, and there were red accents throughout the room - dark red curtains on the windows, red throw pillows on the bed.

"Through here is your closet and bathroom. Edwin has laid out your things." Meilin walked into an anteroom, and Trowa followed her.

By laid out, Meilin meant unpacked - all of Trowa's belongings had been arranged in the closet, either neatly folded or hanging up.

Meilin ran her long, pale fingers over his clothes and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Hm. Perhaps you should change before we go out. Something a little less casual."

She offered the command with a slight shrug of her shoulders, as if it was just a suggestion, but then she pulled down the hangers with his pair of gray trousers and his green sweater, laying them out on an upholstered bench in the middle of the closet.

She smiled at him again, and even if Trowa had been irritated by the way she had just picked out his clothes, he couldn't have felt anything but longing when she turned that expression on him.

"There is another guest room on this floor, and on the fifth floor is a smoking room, as well as Duo's billiards room, and the study. The terrace is on the next floor - we've been told it has lovely views of the sunrise. The pool and Wufei's gym are downstairs, in the basement. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call for Edwin."

Meilin gave the instructions as she walked back into the bedroom, finishing with a gesture towards the phone on the nightstand beside the bed.

"Thank you."

"Of course. It is our pleasure. Join us again downstairs in… half an hour?" It was again spoken in a tone that suggested a request, but Trowa doubted he had any choice in the matter.

He nodded, and she smiled again before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her.

Even though he was alone, Trowa felt the lingering presence of Meilin - and Wufei. He could feel their powers or their essence, or something about them, in the air like a perfume or a haze.

He had always been able to feel vampires, to sense them. As a child, he hadn't known what or why he felt when he came into contact with certain people. It wasn't until he was older, until vampires came out, that Trowa started to piece together his reaction to certain individuals with the realization that they were vampires - and that he could feel them. It was a difficult feeling to describe, even to himself, and Trowa had never tried to explain it to anyone else, except Catherine, when they had first met six years ago. She had been surprised, but not, as he had feared, doubtful or freaked out.

It took several minutes for Trowa to feel clear-headed and himself again - for Meilin and Wufei to dissipate from his consciousness - and he felt both relieved and strangely empty.

He tried to push that thought away as he went back into the closet and changed into the clothes that Meilin had picked out.

It was, however, the same way Trowa always felt after spending several hours in Professor Winner's company. But Winner was very different from Meilin and Wufei. Winner's touch was light, almost like sunlight peeking through the leaves on a spring day. Meilin and Wufei, while not oppressive, felt almost tangible - he could practically taste them, and it unsettled Trowa just how much he liked that feeling. Meilin reminded Trowa of heat and fire, flickering at him, waiting to consume him. Wufei, on the other hand, felt cold and still - like a great expanse of ice swiftly rising towards him.

If Catherine was here, she would no doubt be shoving Trowa's clothes back into his bag and ushering him out of the door and into a cab.

-o-

The restaurant, K Rico, was yet another unexpected and nearly overwhelming experience.

It wasn't just the fact that it was so far outside of anything that Trowa, trying to make ends meet with only his graduate stipend, would ever have been able to afford.

As soon as they walked into the small, chic little restaurant, Trowa felt them.

Not just Wufei and Meilin - but practically an entire room of vampires.

His breath caught, and he tripped over his own feet as he followed the maitre'd and his hosts towards a table in the back.

Trowa had never been around this many vampires at once - and it really was oppressive. He could feel the swirl of their power, their hunger, flowing through the air, through him.

Trowa gratefully sat down in the chair beside Meilin, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his breathing for a moment - trying, and failing, to push away all of the alien feelings.

"Trowa?" Wufei reached across the table and placed his cool, strong hand over Trowa's where it clutched at the tablecloth.

He realized he was probably making a fool of himself - probably breaking some of Professor Winner's rules - and he forced himself to open his eyes and look up.

"Sorry," he mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat under the concerned gaze of Wufei and the curious one of Meilin. "I… I'm not used to…" he trailed off, the same instinct that had kept him from telling other people about his ability stepping in now.

Professor Winner trusted them, of course, but Trowa hadn't even told Winner about this.

"Sorry," he said again, lamely, and Meilin arched an eyebrow at Wufei, who sat back, releasing Trowa's hand, and frowned at him thoughtfully.

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" Wufei asked.

Yes, Trowa wanted to shout, but instead, he shook his head.

"No, no, this is fine."

They continued to watch him, even when the waiter came back with a glass of water and asked Trowa if he wanted something else to drink.

Trowa, only Trowa.

If he hadn't already known, that alone would have made Trowa realize he was in a restaurant that catered mostly to vampires.

Looking around, he saw that at most tables, only one person was eating, while the other… the other person watched the diner with rapt attention.

Trowa shivered, feeling, once again, the swirl of power and desire around him.

"Water is fine," he said.

The waiter nodded, turning to leave, but Meilin stopped him.

"Wait, please, indulge us. They have such an excellent wine selection here."

It was another of those not-command-commands of hers.

Trowa tried to think of a polite way to refuse.

"I don't know much about wine," he said.

Meilin only smiled, a real, full smile that showed two perfect rows of gleaming teeth.

"He'll have a bottle of the Bodgea Bouza Tannat," she told the waiter. "It pairs wonderfully with any of the steaks," she assured Trowa, who could only nod in acquiescence.

When the waiter returned with the bottle and poured a sample for Trowa to taste, both Meilin and Wufei watched him, Wufei's lips slightly parted and Meilin's eyes bright.

Trowa took a cautious sip of the wine. It reminded him of blackberries and licorice and cocoa.

"It's good," he assured his audience.

The waiter poured more wine into his glass, and then started to list the specials for the evening.

The menu, which Trowa had barely had the chance to glance over, listed the prices - and they were exorbitant. Sixty dollars for a steak? Trowa could eat for a week on that much money, and then some.

"The Filet Mignon is divine," Meilin said, tapping his menu when Trowa stared at it blankly.

Trowa arched an eyebrow, wanting to ask how she knew that. But, he supposed, he probably wasn't the first human they had brought to this restaurant.

"I'll have that, then," Trowa told the waiter, who took his menu and complimented him on the selection.

He left, and Trowa, feeling awkward and anxious, took another sip of the wine. It really was good.

"Tell us about yourself," Wufei suggested, leaning back in his seat, eyes still riveted on Trowa. "After all, you will learn all about us this week. It only seems fair that you exchange something for that knowledge."

Exchange.

Winner had mentioned that - had said that hospitality came without a price, but the rest of it… The information that Trowa wanted from the Harbingers would probably require a bit of negotiation on his part.

"There's not much to tell," Trowa said, shrugging. "I'm one of Professor Winner's students, and-"

"Sorry I'm late!"

Trowa was interrupted by the loud, boisterous voice of a man approaching their table.

A vampire. A vampire whose power hit Trowa like an ocean wave, crashing over him and leaving Trowa struggling to breathe.

"Duo." Meilin said the name as if it was an endearment, and Trowa watched as the vampire walked around to her chair and leaned down to kiss her on the mouth.

Duo was dressed entirely in black, from his boots to his trousers to the dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves and the black vest that showed just how narrow his waist was in comparison to his broad shoulders. His hair, worn in a single long braid that reached past his waist, was a rich blend of browns and reds.

The kiss went on for some time, long enough for Trowa to realize he was staring at the two as their lips moved together, long enough for Trowa to realize that Wufei was watching him watch them with a smirk on his own lips.

Finally, Duo pulled away from Meilin, and Trowa could see that her pale lips were dark and swollen. And Duo's, when Trowa turned his head, were just as dark and swollen, flushed red with what Trowa had to guess was blood.

But whose?

Duo walked around the table, towards Wufei, and Trowa wasn't sure how he expected the two vampires to greet each other, but he wasn't really surprised when Duo repeated the kiss he had given Meilin, bending down and pressing his open mouth against Wufei's lips, already parted in anticipation.

One of Wufei's hands came up to cup Duo's jaw, his thumb rubbing across a loose tendril of hair.

Trowa felt his heart start to race at the sight of their kiss, at the way Meilin, beside him, licked her lips and watched them.

Erotic didn't even begin to describe it.

There was something intense and dark and dangerous about the way those two men touched each other, and Trowa was filled with equal parts arousal and fear.

Finally, Duo pulled away from Wufei, leaving his lips stained as well, and turned his attention to Trowa.

"You must be Quatre's little pet."

Trowa lifted his eyebrows at that.

"His student," Wufei corrected, his tone a little exasperated.

"Right. Student." Duo's eyes twinkled as he moved towards the one open seat at the table, between Wufei and Trowa and across from Meilin. He started to sit, but then paused and gave Trowa a wicked, teasing smirk. He held out his hand towards Trowa. "Or would you like me to greet you the way I just greeted them?"

Trowa glared at the vampire and shook his hand, quickly and firmly.

Duo chuckled, squeezing his hand before releasing Trowa and finally sitting down.

"Sorry that I was late," Duo said, licking at his lips and then lifting his thumb to rub at the corner of his mouth.

Trowa could very clearly see the smear of blood that came away.

He wondered - had Meilin bitten him? Had Wufei? Or had Duo bitten them?

Would asking fall under Winner's list of 'how to not get yourself killed or me embarrassed'? Probably.

"Did things go as expected?" Meilin asked Duo.

He nodded, sucking on his thumb for a moment.

"Yes. Unfortunately."

The three shared a dark, silent look, and Trowa could feel the tension between them.

"Anyway," Duo broke the moment and smirked at Trowa again, "what have I missed?"

"Trowa was just about to regale us with tales of his exciting life," Meilin said, her voice and face once again amused.

Trowa just barely refrained from glaring at her.

"It isn't that exciting," he assured them.

"Oh, I think you would be surprised just how exciting your life is." Wufei's voice was idle, but there was something in his eyes that implied he already knew a great deal about Trowa.

It was intimidating, to have that dark stare seem to look right through him.

Trowa took another sip of his wine.

"Tell us," Duo suggested, his lips smirking once again, and Trowa felt a tug, a desire to suddenly tell Duo everything about his entire life, from growing up in a foster home and suffering abuse from his foster mother to being humiliated in middle school when he tried to kiss another boy to crying when he saw Star Wars for the first time to sitting in his car and screaming in frustration when he had been accepted to Harvard for undergrad and hadn't had the money to attend to the day he had met Catherine in a coffeeshop and their failed attempts at dating before settling into an almost fraternal friendship to his utter relief at being accepted into Stanford for graduate school and being offered an assistantship to cover his expenses. He wanted to tell Duo everything, even about his ability to sense vampires.

"I-"

"Duo." It was Wufei, voice harsh and commanding.

The other vampire sighed and leaned back in his chair, pouting, and Trowa felt the compulsion to speak fade away.

"What did you just do to me?" Trowa demanded, glaring at him.

"Nothing," Duo muttered, sending a dirty look in Wufei's direction. "He wouldn't let me."

"You tried to make me tell you everything. You-"

"I apologize," Wufei spoke up, trying to soothe Trowa. He reached across the table again, but Trowa snatched his hand away before the vampire could touch him. Wufei sighed and sent Duo an aggravated look.

"I'm sorry," Duo mumbled. "I shouldn't have done that. You're our guest, and we promised Quatre to be all nice and gentle with you." He ran a hand through his bangs, sending them fluttering around his pale face and vibrant, indigo eyes. "I just had to deal with some incredibly unpleasant people and I'm feeling on edge. I shouldn't have done that to you, however. And I am sorry."

He certainly sounded genuine, but Trowa really didn't think he could trust him.

"How did you do that?"

"It's… it's a thing I do." Duo leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I can compel people to tell me the truth, and I just spent an hour… look, the point is, I'm sorry. I know you won't be able to feel it, but I just… nudge you towards wanting to talk to me. Humans don't understand it, or know why they want to talk to me, but they do. When I want them to."

Except Trowa had felt it. He had felt the power in Duo's simple command of tell us.

"All vampires have certain… abilities," Wufei spoke up.

Trowa nodded. He knew that. He also knew that they weren't supposed to use them on humans without the human consenting. And Trowa had not consented.

He continued to glare at Duo.

"It won't happen again. I swear."

"It won't," Wufei agreed, steel in his words, and Trowa turned to look at him. "Duo can compel people to speak to him, to tell him the truth and the secrets they never want to share. Meilin can compel people to feel things - emotions, sensations. I can compel people to act, or not act. Duo will not use his powers on you again without your consent."

Duo sighed and nodded in agreement.

"How will I know? How will I know you aren't forcing me to consent or-"

"You won't," Meilin interrupted him. "As Duo said, humans can't feel our powers at work. You simply have to trust our word, now that we have given it. You have to trust that your professor has your best interests at heart."

Which made Trowa realize an entirely new threat.

"What can he do? Professor Winner?"

"He can sense the emotions of those around him and, if he has a deep enough connection, their thoughts."

Trowa tried to think back, tried to remember if he had ever felt the same kind of pressure from Quatre that he had just felt from Duo. He couldn't remember - and he didn't know if that meant Quatre had never done it, or if he was just better at doing it.

"You know, of course, that vampires have powers - in addition to our ability to give our donors," Wufei said the word with a slight grimace, as though he didn't like the term, "pleasure when we take their blood."

Trowa nodded again.

"Aside from Quatre, it is doubtful you have ever encountered one of the Old Order before. There are not too many of us left, and most of the New Order, vampires created less than five hundred years ago, do not have powers as strong as ours."

"I met a vampire who could make flowers bloom," Trowa said, "and I thought it was the most impressive thing in the world." He felt foolish, now. Coaxing a flower to bloom was certainly beyond Trowa's capabilities - but making a human, or a vampire - tell you their secrets? Make them feel what you wanted them to feel? Make them do what you wanted them to do? That was terrifying.

It was even more terrifying when Trowa considered just how many myths - how much of Vampiric - had no basis in reality. Vampires didn't fear garlic, or holy items. The only three widely-held beliefs about vampires that were true - they burned in sunlight, they could not enter a physical place without an invitation, and a stake through their hearts would kill them - would not help Trowa much in this situation. After all, he didn't want to kill them. And he was staying in their home.

Trowa's meal arrived, and he continued to stew on his realizations as he ate.

He had known he would be hopelessly outclassed by the Harbingers - had known they were old and powerful, and he was young and stupid and human. But with every passing second, Trowa was starting to realize that Catherine had been right to warn him off.

Trowa had nearly finished his steak, and had just emptied his fourth glass of wine, when he looked up to see that all three vampires were watching him, their entire focus on him.

They were so still, they may as well have been dead, except for their eyes, tracking Trowa's glass to his lips, his fork to his plate and to his mouth. They watched him chew and drink, and it looked as if they thought he was the most fascinating creature they had ever laid eyes on.

It was exactly how the other vampires in the restaurant were watching their humans.

Trowa managed to finish his meal, the awareness of their focus making him acutely aware of each bite and sip he took, and when he finished and pushed his plate away, each of the vampires sighed and leaned back in their seats, seemingly as sated as Trowa was.

"Did you enjoy it?" Meilin asked, and Trowa nodded. It had been good, even if it had felt a little like giving a lecture in front of a packed auditorium.

"Yes. Thank you."

"I thought, perhaps, you would be a little tired after your travels today," Wufei said. "We can take you back to our home, and allow you to rest for the night. Tomorrow night, we can begin to answer the questions you have for us, and perhaps Meilin or Duo will show you some of the sites in the city."

Trowa looked between the two vampires. Duo had already tried to force Trowa to do what he wanted and failed. Meilin, on the other hand, hadn't used her powers, and had still made Trowa do what she wanted.

He didn't feel particularly comfortable having either of them as his escort through the dark streets of New York City.

-o-

Trowa slept for much of the day, waking in the middle of the afternoon and feeling both lazy and, for the first time in what felt like years, well-rested.

He showered, dressed and wandered through the house, up to the rooftop, where he was able to see all of Central Park and the Manhattan skyline, and then he went back downstairs, hungry and curious.

On the third floor, he saw the still-closed door to the master suite that he had seen last night, and he hesitated.

After watching Duo greet Meilin and Wufei last night, Trowa felt very confident the three of them shared that room, and that thought filled Trowa's mind with all kinds of inappropriate questions.

"Looking for something?"

Trowa turned at the sound of a woman's voice, and saw a short, dark haired woman walking towards him from the library.

She was dressed in dark, fitted clothing that looked vaguely martial.

"I was looking for the kitchen."

"It's on the first floor, beyond the foyer."

Trowa nodded, but he hesitated before walking down the stairs.

"I'm Trowa," he said. "I-"

"I know who you are," she smirked in amusement. "I'm Hilde, their Sentinel."

Trowa nodded at the explanation.

Sentinels were humans - or witches - who had bonded with a vampire. Human tradition labeled them as human servants, but in reality, Sentinels were almost completely autonomous, and their bond with a vampire gave them incredible strength and increased their lifespan. The only service they typically provided a vampire was keeping them from being murdered during daylight, while they slept.

It was strange, however, that she had said their Sentinel. Typically, Sentinel bonded with a single vampire - not a group.

"Shall I hold your hand and walk you down the stairs?" Hilde prompted when Trowa still didn't move.

He felt his lips twitch at the sarcastic offer.

"I think I can manage," he assured her.

"Good. They'll wake in two hours. Wufei suggested that you might occupy yourself in the library until then. After you've eaten, of course."

"Of course," Trowa agreed.

Hilde continued to watch him as he descended the stairs.

~ * ~

Fic 4

Back to Clara's Fics

Back to GW Authors Index.