AUTHOR'S NOTE
Welcome back! First of all, some explanation is due. I already published Chapter 2 of The Conclave, sort of, but once it got uploaded and I re-read it, I decided I wasn't altogether happy with the direction the story was going. See, I actually had two potential plot outlines for where this story was going, and, as dictated by Sod's Law, the one I chose ultimately turned out not to be the one I really wanted. In truth, I think I was a little too keen to get to the sex, and the story as a whole suffered (and ended up with some worrying, unintended noncon overtones which, in hindsight, I'm
really
not fond of).
For those of you who've read the old version, this one starts out very similar but diverges quite significantly in terms of the actual events; I'd be keen to know whether you prefer this new direction or not. It's substantially shorter, and there's also now no sex in this instalment. (It's coming, I promise.)
All characters depicted in this work are at least 18, and intended as completely original creations.
Enjoy!
***
AIKO
When I woke up, my first thought was that I didn't know whose bed I was in. Normally that'd be the sign of a night gone awry, but when the last thing you remember is your best friend naked in your flat with a glowing sigil on her chest, "awry" doesn't really cover it.
The digital clock on the bedside next to me read 7:15, though whether that was morning or evening wasn't clear. Eyes adjusting to the gentle orange light, I sat up slowly, easing out a nasty crick in my neck, and took stock of my surroundings, looking for clues as to where the hell I was.
Whoever's house this was, they had an eye for design. The furnishings were simple but elegant: impeccably clean white walls, smooth floorboards of pale, shiny wood, and a few wall lanterns, turned down low on a dimmer switch, which lent the room its soft orange glow. There was one small window behind me, covered up by a thick Roman blind; I didn't dare open it just yet for fear of blinding myself. There was a side table next to me with a glass of water on it, which, realising my sudden thirst, I downed straight away. I was still thirsty afterwards, but luckily there was a carafe containing more water on the floor. I poured myself another glass, resisting the urge to drink it directly from the jug.
On another side table in the far corner of the room lay a neatly folded pair of what appeared to be pyjama bottoms, and, realising that my clothes had somehow vanished, I threw off the covers and moved to put them on. Just as I was reaching for them, though, the door swung open.
"Don't come in!" I shouted reflexively, remembering how many times my roommates back at uni had walked in on me changing, coming out of the shower, or worse. Whoever it was completely disregarded my plea and came in anyway.
The intruder was a tiny, lithe woman with ivory-white skin and short, messy flame-red hair. She wore pyjama bottoms much like the ones I'd been about to put on, though they trailed on the floor a little at the back -- I suppose it's hard to find a good fit when you're that short. She was topless, small, pert breasts bare to the world, and just above them was the exact same tattoo I'd seen on Tash. Was this some kind of secret society emblem? Pop culture reference? Inside joke? Coincidence? I tried not to dwell on it.
I grabbed the duvet and pulled it to my chest, covering myself as best I could. The newcomer laughed it off. "Nothing I haven't seen before," she said, with a trace of an accent I couldn't quite place.
"Who are you and what the hell am I doing here?"
"Look, when you're ready, put those on and come downstairs," said the redhead. "That should make everything a bit clearer."
That reminded me a bit too much of Tash's claim that "all will be revealed", but before I could lose my temper and demand answers right now, she was out of the door. I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, burying my head in my hands, and decided I wasn't quite ready to go down and face the music yet.
***
MATT
After a brisk wake-up call and some much-needed water, I was now perched on an ancient, uncomfortable stool, while four people in much more comfortable seats drank tea and occasionally glanced my way. I'd been told to wait "until the other visitor arrived", whoever and wherever they were. Understand that I wasn't just sitting there because I was happy with this situation. It was more that I was confused, scared, not on my home turf, and, perhaps most importantly, there were three of them and only one of me.
I nursed my own tea (black, not enough sugar) and scanned the room again. The stool I was on was part of a circle of seats at the centre of an expansive living room, and my hosts (captors?) were opposite me, on a huge four-person sofa.
I hadn't been entirely surprised to see Saskia there, to be honest. She'd just come back down from seeing the "other visitor", and now she was watching me, smiling enigmatically and seemingly sizing me up. She was naked from the waist up, which struck me as a bit odd, but I was hardly going to complain; even given my nerves, she was transcendent, and her sculpted, angular frame gave me something to focus on while I waited.
Stefan, whose massive shoulder she was resting her head on, had been more of a surprise. He, too, was topless, and I couldn't help but stare a little -- the man was built like a fucking freight train, with huge, broad shoulders and musculature that bordered on unfair. It was almost a shame he was gay, because I was fairly certain every woman I know would have wanted some of that.
There was another woman; the others had referred to her as Natasha. She was tall, curvy and dark-skinned, the sort of woman I'd have referred to as an Amazon beauty if I was feeling clichéd, which I wasn't. Her dark hair was long and wavy; some of it was in her eyes. She looked absolutely shattered, on the verge of falling asleep, and was leaning against Stefan's other shoulder.
And the fourth person, currently engrossed in an old-looking leatherbound tome, well, I couldn't work them out at all. I say "them" because I could not for the life of me work out this person's gender; it was a distinct possibility that they just didn't have one. They looked vaguely Indian, and their hair was done in an incredibly close buzz cut, as if to accent the androgyny. They were the only person in the room who was dressed differently: a long black robe, almost like a dressing gown, over a thin black turtleneck and black jeans, like a cross between Steve Jobs and a Victorian aristocrat on a winter's evening.
Here was the concerning part, though: the three who were topless all bore the same tattoo. I'd noticed Saskia's last night, but I hadn't thought anything of it at the time; here, though, it was unsettling, a bit cult-y for my liking. The same device was stitched into the pocket of the genderless one's robe in electric blue thread.
At long last, I heard footsteps on the stairs, and our last visitor entered. Another woman, slim, East Asian in looks -- my guess was Japanese -- and topless like the others, though, notably, she lacked the tattoo on her chest. She held one arm over her breasts, apparently trying to conceal them. Her hair was shoulder-length, her eyes hazel, and she looked extremely rattled.
"Hey," said Saskia. "Have a seat next to Matt." She sat down cautiously next to me, looking at me as though I might have some answers. I shrugged and shook my head. Explaining what the hell was going on would be up to the other four.
***
AIKO
Tash poured me some tea and, at last, it was time for some fucking answers. The two slumped over the huge guy in the middle sat up and straightened.
"Matt, Aiko, good afternoon," began the redhead. "First of all, I'm sorry we had to bring you here this way. What I'm about to tell you is a closely guarded secret, so we had to ensure you were somewhere safe, and, short of abducting you..."
"Isn't that exactly what you did?" I interjected, anger bubbling to the surface. I'd been keeping it down thus far, but there was no denying that I was pissed.
"All will become clear," said Tash.
"You said that before, before you --"
"Aiko, bear with us."
