My Little Ventrue Pt. 03 Ch. 02

A few miles later, Julias and Jack got out of the car in front of the subway entrance. People walked by, but no one went up or down the stairs that cut into the street. No reason to, the base of the stairs held thick metal doors, locked tight.

The two Kindred stepped down the stairway, stopped at the door, and unlocked it. The Invictus held all the keys, after all, and the old subway was no exception. They had a lot of Mekhet and Nosferatu who needed to get around, and that often called for a little stealth.

With the door locked behind them, they stepped out into the subway, and started to walk along the platform. The subway train was there, but empty, long abandoned; perfect for the Invictus to re-purpose. The power was on too, or at least whatever circuit the lights were on, and enough still worked to provide them a little light while Jack and Julias started the trip toward Damien. Assuming he'd be there.

He'd better be there.

"... so disappeared?"

"Yes!" Hands up again, waving about as he got enthusiastic trying proving his point. "Like, gone. Poof. Completely. If she had touched anything, the cobwebs everywhere would have given it away."

"A short woman, curvy, long frizzy red hair." He shrugged and hopped down onto the subway track. "I know of no Kindred that looks like that. You said she had a Scottish accent?"

"I think? Hard to tell from one word."

"It's enough to work with. Foreign accent, probably European, body description, and you're sure she's not human."

"Very. I... it was a little startling. She wasn't human, but I didn't get a Kindred vibe from her. Just... just enough to... to make me weirded out, you know?"

Julias blinked, and looked down at Jack. The kid shuddered, rubbed his arms, and looked up and down, left and right, and over his shoulder. Scared. A little fear was good, it kept you alive, but for such a tame encounter to leave Jack still afraid was enough reason for Julias to take this more seriously. He'd already put Jessy on the case, but if Jack was still shook up like this, he better give her back up.

Back up. Normally that'd be him, or Natasha. How quickly that changed. The right hands of the council were down to only one in just a short window, and Natasha had joined a different covenant. And with Viktor dead, the upper echelon of the Invictus was down by two. They had to be careful moving forward, especially with the Carthians stirring up trouble.

"Hey, Julias. You're doing it again."

"Oh?"

"That thinking thing. I can see your eyes wandering on the ground the way they do when you're thinking."

He smirked at the kid, and motioned to the tracks. "Just watching my footing, jackass."

Jack rolled his eyes, and hopped up onto the metal of the subway track. Like on tightrope, he stuck his hands out to the side and balanced as he walked.

"You really want to see him?" Julias said.

"Yeah. Been a couple weeks since the incident." Kid shuddered and shook out his arms, like throwing away heavy weights. "I... guess I feel responsible. You saw what happened to him, after I... yeah."

After you made him cut off his sire's head.

"You don't think he'll just attack you on sight?"

"Antoinette said she and the sheriff had him locked up, but dropped him off down here when I said he could live. Far as I know, she told him it was my choice."

Well, probably not only the kid's choice, Julias was sure. Antoinette was in love with him, but she wasn't stupid. There must have been another deciding element. Natasha, maybe? She'd been kidnapped by him after all, used as a hostage, and now a member of the Ordo Dracul. Her words must have meant a lot to Daniel.

Skittering. Both Kindred raised their heads to look down and into the shadows of the subway tunnel, and listened for the subtle scratches of rats and bugs against dirt, rocks, and concrete. There was light, but not much, not enough for him to feel comfortable on a stroll, especially now that he was a member of the council. He'd never thought of it before, of being afraid of simply walking around; he took and dealt his lumps fine as a right hand of the council. But as an actual member, he had a much bigger target on his back. God he missed having Natasha to watch it.

Or Beatrice.

Maybe he could recruit her? No, she'd never. Going from the Carthians to the Circle was a step in the opposite direction from the Invictus. Now she was dancing around bowls of bone, naked, filling them with blood and drawing blood symbols onto herself. He had no idea if that's what members of the Circle of the Crone actually did, but that was the stereotype.

And it kind of fit her, he had to admit, with the massive crocodile teeth and the snake eyes, the tattoos and the visceral attitude. It'd be a dance he'd like to see someday.

The two Ventrue went deeper, down into the tunnels, and then down into more tunnels, and then down into more tunnels. The network of connections was beyond complicated, as the Prince and Viktor insured the tunnels were expanded beyond what was needed. For each tunnel made, two more were made that were never used, or explained to the general public. The joys of having Kindred run your city, with all the money to support the role; they turned its underground into a haven for creatures of the night.

The topside was a Kindred paradise as well of course, with the city's blatant embrace of nearly every vice, often in large congregations of drug use, prostitution, and other sins that ranked low on the list. It made finding a meal easy, especially in the Invictus half of South Side, where people partied constantly, and no one bat an eye when someone else initiated sex in the dark corners of a dance club.

But not everyone had finding a meal so easy. And as Jack and Julias walked through the tunnels, they found them.

Nosferatu.

Not everyone with the cursed blood had disfigurements they could hide like Beatrice. Many were as damaged as Maria, but she was an elder, more than capable of hiding herself in plain sight with her obfuscate disciplines. These neonates could not.

One Kindred, wearing dreary, gray, stained robes over his body, was crouched into a high alcove of a platform. The waiting area had never been finished or set up with ticket gates or anything. Just a big, empty room where Kindred could gather. And as they walked by it, still on the subway tracks, Julias spotted a few more vampires hanging out in its shadows.

Another one stepped out from the black to peer at them, but once she recognized Julias, she gasped and stepped back into the black. He didn't recognize her; must have been a Carthian. A huge growth covered half of her head and neck, tinted black. Another Kindred covered in a filthy sheet reached out to put a hand on her back, and offered Julias a harsh glare. Another man he didn't recognize, one with six, long, dangling fingers, with odd curling claws on each tip. Given time, they would have the power to leave the sewers and tunnels, when they could hide in shadow in plain sight. Until then, they hid here.

There was no use in denying it; he found them ugly, and revolting. The thought of someone like Maria naked and in his bed made him want to vomit. Part of him hated himself for being that vain, but a part of him also accepted it as natural desire. How Lucas had loved Maria, physically, he could not understand. And he dare not ask.

Beatrice's snake eyes, and the crocodile teeth instead of cheeks, were all interesting, and even sexy. Scary, but sexy. He doubted things would have gone so well between them if she'd had grotesque deformity. If a third arm had been growing out of her neck, or she had a giant mouth where her stomach was, that first night in the South Hill Cemetery crypt could have easily ended with him as dust.

Damn. Walking through the dark tunnels really made his mind wander. And as reflex, it drifted into self-loathing territory. But he smiled, and let images of Beatrice fill his mind instead. She'd tell him to accept the reality, get over it, and move on. Easier said than done, but it was nice to hear it anyway.

It took a little time to get to where they were told Damien was, a place Damien told the sheriff was one of his most common hideaways. An old monitoring room, supposedly, along the tunnel between Barker and Denver street. Sure enough, they found it, just a metal door up on a raised platform with some metal stairs to lead to it. A drawing of a spear had been carved into the metal, etched. Did Damien preach to the Nosferatu that hid in the tunnels and sewers? If there was any bloodclan that needed help finding a purpose in their second life, it was them.

Was that so wrong? Not like you can prove or disprove god, Julias.

Jack knocked.

Julias quirked a brow at him. "He's forfeited his life, Jack. You don't have to knock."

"Don't have to not." He shrugged, and smirked at him. A nervous one though, with fidgeting fingers and glancing eyes.

"If he tries anything, I'll deal with him." Fast and brutal as Damien was, Julias was confident he could crush his mind, if it came to it.

The door opened.

Damien didn't bother to say hello, or nod, or make eye contact. The man, haunched slightly and letting his arms dangle, sauntered back over to his corner, and sat down. In the dark. And dust. And rat shit.

"... Damien," Jack said. No response. Jack looked to Julias, but he could only shrug, and motion for his childe to try again. "Damien."

"I can hear you. What do you want?" The young man was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, each tattered and torn. Worn-out shoes, and head hanging between his knees completed the ensemble of a broken man.

Around him were the old computers and dials of the monitoring station. Pipes cut through the room, across the ceiling before coming down against the wall, and Damien made his home under one of the larger pipes. Water dripped into a puddle next to him, but the Kindred didn't seem to notice.

He had a book in his hand, a large thing, black, a tome that Julias was sure held a plethora of ancient, dark things.

"Still reading the Book of Longinus?" Julias said.

Damien frowned up at him, and set the book down between his knees, against the damp floor. So much for a sacred object.

"I have read it a hundred times in my unlife, Invictus. I asked you a question, what do you want?"

Julias returned the frown, and made to step a little closer, but Jack put a hand up to his hip to stop him.

"Here to see you," Jack said. Kid dug up enough courage to speak straight to the killer, but he was quivering a little, the beast inside him shaking. Julias could feel it, and Damien no doubt could too.

"... why?"

Shaking his shoulders out a little, Jack stepped in where Julias hadn't, and squatted down in front of the killer.

"Because I let you live, and after what happened... guess... I feel a little responsible." Jack said. Damien glared at the boy with enough venom to kill, but after a moment, lowered his gaze back down to the closed book in his hands, and said nothing. "And after what what happened, I feel... I—"

Damien raised his glare again, a bit of speed to the motion, enough to make Jack fall back and for Julias to reach for his pistol. But the Mekhet stopped, and turned away again. Fire one second, ice the next.

"I... assume the Prince told you I let you live?"

Damien said nothing.

"Just trying to extend an olive branch here, Damien. I saw the look in your eyes, you—"

"You know nothing about me." Damien shook his head, picked up the tome, and threw it the floor. A bit closer to Julius, he could see it was ripped and torn, edges frayed, corners bent, and the damage looked recent.

"I was there, remember?" Jack, shivering and fidgeting, got in a little closer to the assassin. "Heard every word Lucas said, every word you said, every word Antoinette said. Give me a little credit Damien, I know you better than most."

Julias blinked, and looked down at Jack as the silence settled. Damien didn't throw back an insult or anything, but eased his head back until it was against the wet wall, and his unkempt hair fell over on his shoulder, half his head shaved smooth on one side, long hair dangling from the other. But no words.

"... the sheriff said you said you wouldn't kill me, if he let you go. I appreciate that," Jack said.

Damien choked on a quiet, bitter laugh, and fell back into silence.

Jack didn't seem interested in the hint. "Everything that happened is on Lucas's head. No one blames you for what happened, hell barely anyone knows. Natasha does, and she seems adamant that you can change."

Natasha, that got something out of him, a flinch and a clench of a couple fingers. Damien took a deep breath and forced his eyes open to stare at Jack.

"You do not understand, Ventrue. I have had my beliefs taken from me. The Prince has banned the practice of the Second Estate, and my mentor and guide was a... a..."

"Well he wasn't a fraud, if that's what you were thinking." Jack sat down next to Damien, and shrugged. "A zealot, sure, but I saw that attack on Antoinette much as anything. That sword disintegrated. Not exactly normal shit, you know?"

Julias smirked and took a step back. No use in interrupting the conversation, Jack had control. But seeing him in control was a bit of a shock, and Julias folded his arms across his chest as he slid his hand away from his pistol. Mostly.

When did Jack get so confident? Spending so many nights with the Prince, in her tower, with the sheriff nearby, could harden anyone he supposed. So could having slaughtered a group of Kindred using an enemy's body. But seeing it with his own eyes was a little different, his childe sitting down — oh god the poor suit — next to an assassin, one who'd tried to kill him at that, with a sword through his gut. The kid had a way of talking that disarmed people, Julias always knew. What was different was, despite talking to a killer, his shivering was mostly gone, and the kid spoke with a solid voice, an ambassador's voice.

"The sword, it... it tasted the blood of Malchus. Lucas held it long cherished, and... and destroyed it, to kill the Prince."

"Malchus?" Jack said.

Damien turned to the boy sitting near him, and managed a small chuckle. "Read the Bible."

"This thing? You have got to be shitting me, it's bigger than a regular bible." Jack reached out for the tome. Julias tensed as his childe picked it up, but Damien only watched with a raised brow.

"That is the Tome of Longinus. I meant the Christian Bible."

"Ah, right." Jack slipped his fingers along the dirtied pages. "You really are devout huh?"

"... I am."

"And the Lancea et Sanctum, what's your goal, your mission?"

Julias raised a finger to wipe away the growing grin. Kid really had a diplomatic side.

"The Sanctified seek to play a role, to fulfill our duty in God's plan. He is the shepherd, kine are His sheep, and Kindred are the wolves. We hunt and kill the sheep who stray too far, and scare the others back into the warm embrace of the Lord. If Kindred are to ever be free of eternal damnation, the doom of hellfire, we must... do you even care?"

"Course I care, Damien. Last thing I want is for us to be enemies. I mean fucking hell, I didn't want any of that to happen! And... and neither did you." He closed the book, and put it onto Damien's lap and chest. "Natasha saw it, and I saw it. Just today I was talking with Amanda, and she—"

"How is... Amanda?" Damien asked. A spark of warmth in his voice?

"Little shook up over bouncing between covenants, questioning her purpose in life, all the typical first-year university student stuff. Fine otherwise. Went out with her just last night."

"I know."

"You... you know?"

Damien nodded, and looked at the book back in his lap. "Little escapes my notice in the Devil's Corner."

Of course Damien would know, but the way he said it, sounded like he was watching them. Part of Julias could forgive him for spying, Mekhet did that as naturally as kine breathed, but part of him couldn't. He stepped in closer, and squatted down in front of Damien.

"Jack may have let you live Damien, but no one has claimed sanctuary for you. Don't—"

The man sighed and raised a hand, palm up and open. "I meant nothing by it, Julias Mire. I was investigating the disappearances in the Devil's Corner, and noticed that Mister Terry and Miss Pol were doing the same."

No secrets from a Mekhet. Julias nodded and stood, but kept his eye on the man as he took a couple steps back to give them room. His childe offered him a nod and shrug, but otherwise seemed unfazed by the threat Julias had just thrown at Damien.

"So you've seen the redhead?"

God damn it Jack. Don't be so loose-tongued with everything.

"I have. There is something that connects her to the disappearances, but I do not know what it is." Damien shrugged and smirked up at Julias, with just an edge of I-know-you-wish-I-didn't-know-what-you-were-up-to in his eyes. "I have observed her from afar, but when I pursue her, she disappears."

"Same." The kid reached into his jacket, pulled out his smartphone, and started thumb-typing nice and quick. The joys of growing up in the digital age, taking notes took mere seconds. "Any ideas?"

"... you're asking me for help?"

Jack lowered the phone. "Yeah. You don't want to?"

It was Julias's turn to smirk. Jack reaching out with more olive branches, and this time Damien would look the petty one if he didn't comply.

"... she's disappearing from within Devil's Corner, but I don't know how she's doing it. And I know the underbelly of this city better than anyone."

Julias looked out the doorway into the abandoned tunnels. "Better than anyone?"

Damien motioned to the door. "These are my tunnels. I knew you were coming. I decided to see what you had to say." Another subtle smirk, but after a while it faded. "I'll help, Jack. Natasha and the sheriff assure me you deserve it, and after what happened, I... yeah, I'll help you."

Likely story. But considering how the conversation was going, the Mekhet deserved the benefit of a doubt.

A sigh drew their eyes to Jack.

"Thanks," he said. "I half expected you to try and fight us when we got here, or just not be here."

"The thought had occurred to me." From the shadows beside him, Damien pulled out a sword, a small thin thing like Viktor's had been. More than strong and sharp enough to cut off limbs, Julias was sure. "But I... I was shown something that..." Tripping over his own words until Julias felt his grimace start to fade. "You killed my sire, Jack. Using my body."

"... yeah."

"But I now know it was necessary." He shook his head some more, put the sword down, and cracked the black bible open. "So forgive me, if I still have the impulse desire to cut your head off. I know it is because of the Arch... Lucas's false teachings. Fifty years I spent coveting them, just a fledgling at first and younger than you when Lucas and I disappeared into the sewers come the purge."

Jack's jaw fell. "... wait, what?"

"I wandered the city underbelly for fifty years, Jack, with my sire sleeping and all the other bishops dead and the covenant scattered and ash. I read this, and... and fell on Lucas's words more than what I could gleam from this." Eyes broken, Damien raised the book and held it in front of him. "And his sermons were... more than a little biased, and manipulative. No wonder the Prince unleashed the purge upon us. Lucas was... was... a monster, a vile man."

The air turned to ice. Damien was trying to smile, or at least maintain some sort of composure, but his head fell, and his shoulders shook a little as he struggled with it. Struggled with having a monster for a sire. Struggled with the brainwashing of your master, your mentor, the person you think you can trust the most only to realize far too late they're not trustworthy at all.