My Little Ventrue Pt. 04 Ch. 14

Antoinette slapped the table, enough to jar everyone and yank their heads her way. "Jacob, do not play this incident like a game. If you orchestrate an encounter between Avery or her pack and these hunters, purely for your selfish desires, you will damage the city, and the Masquerade along with it. Reign in your desire to see the woman suffer, and she will perhaps be a more strategic ally." Wasted words. If Jacob was planning to lead Avery and this Jeremiah into a confrontation, he would no doubt perform such a feat with little trail for Antoinette to use to prove his involvement. Still, it was better she be upfront about her desire to prevent such actions, if only for the others to be aware of where she stood.

"If she'll even be an ally," Garry said. "She's here to deal with that spirit mumbo jumbo crap, to bring balance to the Force and shit. For all we know, that could include all us Kindred dead and gone."

"I thought you were friends with her?" Michael said.

"Friend is a strong word. More like, she doesn't hate me, while she does hate you."

Julias shook his head, sighing, and took out his phone to make a note. "In either case, I'll ask Master Terry to talk to her about the situation. I'm sure Avery can be an ally in our corner, with a little incentive."

Incentive? Antoinette smiled at Julias, and watched him close as he put his phone away. What incentive could he offer? Money? The Uratha cared little for money. Sex? It was certainly true that Kindred were both talented lovers, but also incapable of reproduction. If a werewolf wished to fuck a vampire, they could do so as much as their deadly, brutal bodies could desire. Oh, a delicious reminder, to ask Natasha about her latest endeavors with her new boyfriends.

"Please do," Antoinette said. "Let us move onto the next topic. I am opening the door on requests for siring."

"Are you now?" Jacob smirked, leaned in to set his elbows on the table, and grinned. "Want to build up numbers for the army?"

"No, old friend. It is true our numbers have dwindled, but young fledglings brought into the fold will be of little value in a war against these hunters. Jack is the exception, not the rule, and it would serve us all to remember that, before any feel inclined to throw their young neonates into the deep end." She knew a time when some overzealous Kindred sired many progeny, in hopes of creating a personal army. It never ended well. "With the many recent deaths of Kindred, we are now tasked with tightening security and defensive measures, but also with rebuilding what was lost. Where we once numbered about three hundred Kindred, we have now dropped to about two hundred and fifty."

Eyeless shrugged, and pulled on one of his knees to bring it up to his chest, heel to the chair seat. "Most dead at your hand, I might add, and all Invictus and Carthian."

"Don't twist the truth of it," Maria said. "Lucas used the power of that nest to bend the will of malleable Kindred to his side. Lucas is to blame, not the Invictus, nor the Carthians, or the Prince for defending herself against his madness."

His madness. Antoinette raised a brow, subtle, and watched the corpse woman as her gaze lowered to look at the glass before her. Powerful words to say, about a man who she once loved with all her withered heart.

"The rules are unchanged," Antoinette said. "Speak with members of your covenant, those you give permission to sire must speak to me, and I will give them the final permission." The group nodded with her words; the rules had not changed in decades, after all.

"Those two dolls you keep around looking to become Kindred?" Garry said.

"My ghouls are precious to me, Garry. They are not dolls. And, perhaps some day, they will join our second lives, but not now. No, I have no one I wish to sire." She had not sired someone in a very long time, ages, since Tony. Such a long time ago, the memories were a haze, but she could recall ghostly images of her and her lover Tony, smiling, holding each other. So long ago.

The elders — and Julias — looked between each other, and waited. Not a one mentioned a desire to sire. But no doubt, some of their subordinates would wish to. As long as the Kindred with the desire came to Antoinette, requested the permission, and proved to be an intelligent and stable individual, she would give them permission. To be stable was important, and essential; many Kindred did not take to their second lives easily, and if they could not be a rock for their childe, the vicious cycle continued. Beatrice's sire was one such fool.

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Her poor little Ventrue. She needed to hold him, hug him, stroke his head and tell him all would be well. She needed to comfort him.

And as she dug through her wardrobes, she realized how true that was, but not because her love needed it; or rather, not only because he needed it, but because she needed it as well. Since his disappearance, all she could think about was holding her love close and washing away the pains of his young life. Such trials on so newly embraced a Kindred must have been terrible, and she wanted to free his shoulders of such a burden.

But that would be foolish. Jack was not a child, he was a man, if a very young one. Trials were important, and it was Jack's ability to persist through such trials that made him a force to be reckoned with. It was why Mire sired him. It was why Clara liked him. It was why Antoinette found herself drawn to him, for more than simply the honest gaze of his eyes that bared his soul. He would carry his burden, and that was to be admired.

She sighed, and reached into the wardrobe to withdraw a rather fanciful corset, something almost out of fantasy, with a bust carved to look like the hands of gargoyles to hold her breasts.

"What do you think, my pets?"

Ashley bounced once on the center couch of the changing room, and shook her head. "I'm sure Jack would love to be dominated with you wearing that. But you said you wanted to care for him tonight? Got the impression you meant sort of lovey-dovey tender stuff? Not really sexy'n'evil corset type stuff. Which I think makes more sense, cause from what you told me, poor guy must be exhausted."

Antoinette sighed, but nodded. Despite Ashley's poor descriptor, it was true Antoinette wanted to ease the boy's pain tonight, not indulge rather playful kinks.

"... do... you think Jack will even want sex tonight?" Julee said. She too sat beside Ashley, the two of them in jeans and t-shirts. They would not be joining Antoinette tonight, as the Prince wanted the Ventrue all to herself. "Maybe you should wear something that'll be fine in case he doesn't."

Antoinette nodded and moved onto a different wardrobe. That was true, and perhaps Jack would simply want to hold her tonight, as she wanted to hold him. She needed something that would let Jack know she was all for letting the boy do nothing but rest against the softness of her bosom tonight. And yet, at the same time, make it clear she was more than willing to satisfy his sexual desires if they should arise.

She smiled as she withdrew a rather soft lingerie robe, somewhat see-through, and white in shade. The length reached her feet, and the material showed hundreds of solid white snowflakes of soft fabric, sewn into the see-through flowing waves of its length. Cashmere. Soft, and comforting.

Her two pets clapped twice and nodded in agreement.

Antoinette set it aside, and walked over to sit beside her two precious joys. "Though this night is to be between my love and myself only, I will let him drink of both of you first. The boy has been through much."

Ashley nodded and bounced a couple more times before hopping off the circular couch. "Definitely, yeah, makes sense. And I heard he got out of that place... with no hands? Like, got them chopped off? I mean... wow."

Julee winced with the words, and shuddered. "Kind of like that time you got all shot up, and that Damien man hurt you."

Yes, that had been a painful night indeed. But memories of Damien were not ones she wished to dig through, not now. Only Jack mattered in this moment.

A beep on her phone on the nearby nightstand warned her of Jack's approach.

"Come now my pets," she said. The two girls hopped up and came up to her. "Go, meet Jack at the stairway, guide him down to the foyer, and instruct him to drink of each of you. And after he has had his fill, he is to come to me in the main bedroom."

"Yes mistress," they both said, nodding, smiling. They understood how important this was to her, and they were delighted to indulge her her desire to be Jack's support.

Perhaps it would serve to consider, if perhaps either or both of her pets contemplated the embrace. She would need to find new ghouls to feed from, new pets, and it would forever change the dynamic of the bedroom. Would her ghouls be welcome in her bed with her beloved, once they were Kindred? Part of her suspected no, and that she would be far too protective of Jack to let other Kindred touch him as she touched him. But then, a part of her thought, perhaps, to let her pets pleasure her and her love, while they enjoyed the new strength and awareness that came with being Kindred, was delight and progression unto its own?

Thoughts for another time. Her love would be here in moments.

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Her love looked exhausted, weak, and weary.

She had changed her main bedroom, switched blankets for white, added many large, soft pillows to the enormous bed, and added white silk to dangle from the bed's canopy. It was a realm of softness and white elegance now, to offset the trauma the boy had suffered. The plan had been to sit there, upon the edge of the bed, and wait for her love to come to her and enter her embrace. But, that would not do.

She got up from the bed, and walked over to her love, her robe trailing behind her along the marble floor, secured tight around her with its white belt. Her poor love, her poor little Ventrue.

The boy was standing, wearing black suit pants and a white shirt. But his eyes were downcast, and his limbs heavy, one hand raised to push and rest against the vault entrance of her master bedroom.

"Sorry," he said, "if... I seem a bit... shitty, tonight. Just... ju—"

She hugged him. She set her arms about the boy, and pulled him to her, tight against her, and pressed his head against her sternum as she wrapped him.

"You have been through a horrible nightmare, my love. Please, do not apologize. All I care is that you are well, and safe."

"... thanks."

She kissed his buzzed head once, twice, and thrice before she finally released her hug, and began to guide the boy toward the bed. Once they reached its edge, she slid her fingers down his chest, and started to unbutton his shirt. "We need not make love tonight, my little Ventrue. Please, I... whatever it is you desire."

He managed a small, weak smile, and a weaker chuckle to go with it. His body was limp, and though he had feasted upon her two ghouls, she could see he was still weary. Perhaps not with physical exhaustion anymore, but mentally, each of his motions labored and slow.

"Yeah... I... yeah. Guess I'm not feeling too manly for admitting it, but... yeah I could really just... use a shoulder... to cry on."

She bit her lip, and leaned down over the boy from behind, until her chin was upon his head, and her limbs circling him. "Not manly? Do not be foolish. Boasts of bravado and manly displays of silent endurance? Many a man has been destroyed by the social faux pas of expressing their emotions. And you know that."

"Yeah... just... needed someone else to say it." He turned and sat down on the edge of the bed, and with a little help from her, slipped off his pants. Now only in his boxers, he crawled backward a little further on the bed, and a little further still, until he was seated upon its center. "You look lovely tonight, by the way." The weight in his eyes did not leave. If anything, they were pulling his gaze back down to the blankets, instead of her.

That would not do.

She climbed across the bed after him, and sat down upon her butt with her legs folded to one side. A lap, for her Ventrue, on an angle so he could rest his body along the sheets, and his back and head upon her lap. And he did, slowly, like dragging bags of sand behind him as he turned to set his bare shoulders upon her thighs, and his head near her hip.

She smiled down at her little Ventrue, and he smiled up at her, as best as he could muster she was sure. She set one hand upon his forehead, and lightly stroked his hair as her other set upon his abs, and caressed his body.

"Thank you, my love. And you look... mournful."

"Yeah, mournful is a pretty good word for it, I guess." His arms were limp at his sides along the blankets, legs as well, and his head nudged into her stroking hand with gentle need. "Killed a lot of people this week."

"... yes, I heard."

"And... had to do some... painful stuff."

"Yes. I am... sorry my love, for more than just your pain."

"Sorry?"

"Dolareido is my city. For hunters to hide within its walls and enact such cruelty, I am responsible."

The small boy shook his head, raised his hand, and took hers where it sat upon his stomach. He held it, squeezed it, and stroked her knuckles with his thumb.

"It's a city, not a fortress, Antoinette. And from what I know, it's one of the best cities for Kindred. You've managed to make a great place for both of us to live. But, yeah, it's not a fortress, you can't expect to control everything."

She frowned at the boy, but the touch of his fingers stroking hers settled the fire. The boy smiled up at her, lighter, and it melted her frown as she held his hand, while her other continued to stroke his head. Buzzed hair was a unique texture, and whenever she ran her hand against the grain of it, Jack's eyes closed in bliss. More than enough reason for her to continue.

"You are correct, my little Ventrue. Still, I cannot help but feel partly responsible. And worse, I cannot help but feel powerless. I admit a part of me would love to lock you up in my tower, so that you would be forever safe."

"... convince the Invictus and I'd love to hang out here for a few nights straight, at least."

"Good. Convincing them will be easy. And I would love to indulge you some more of my time than usual, my love, with these turn of events."

"Yeah?"

"Oui, mon amour. And... you said you wished for a shoulder to cry upon."

"I did... yeah." He sighed, and turned his head a little to face more toward her stomach. "I killed them."

"You had no choice."

"Yeah, I know. And you don't need to convince me it was necessary, I know it was. Just... I had to look into their eyes, you know? Crushed their minds, turned them into puppets. And then there were the rats, and—"

"I understand you summoned many to your aid?"

"Yeah, I used a bunch of them, swarmed the hunters, killed one of them just... gnawed him to death with rats."

That was gruesome, and terribly bleak. She felt the weight of his words pull at her, until her eyebrows drifted down to match it. She almost told him such cruelties were a necessity, to defeat your enemies with whatever tools you had at your disposal. But words were not needed here, only her ears.

"Horrible."

"Yeah, it was. And... fuck, getting my hands chopped off. I thought I could handle that pain, and I did, but..." He brought his hands up above his head to look at them, before he managed a small sob, and set them to lie upon his face. "I... didn't know... I don't want to do that anymore. I don't... want to deal with that anymore."

Oh god. If her poor little Ventrue was going to start crying, she would undoubtedly start crying, and that was not something she had truly done in centuries. She slowly pried his hands away from his face, and set them back on his stomach so she could resume touching them, while her other hand once again stroked his head.

"Sorry," he said, and he forced himself to smile up at her from her lap. "I'm being a baby. After what Damien and his group did to you? I still remember what you looked like, missing limbs, full of holes, and your voice didn't even waver."

"Jack, I am older than you can imagine, my sweet little joy. It is not a fair comparison. Never is a Kindred your age forced to deal with such hardships."

"... I take a strange pride in that, I guess."

"As you should. You have done and managed things that would have more than broken other Kindred of your age. Horrible things. And it hurts me to see you in such pain."

"I'll be fine." His eyes closed, and he leaned his head toward her stroking hand as he relaxed against her lap. "I have you."

She sighed, long, sorrowful and yet content, that the boy would put his heart in her care. "That you do."

This was what she wanted. This was, as far as her eyes and her instincts could tell, what Jack wanted as well. The boy simply lay there, resting, eyes closing more as she stroked his head, caressed his ears, and massaged his body with her other hand. Yes, little Ventrue, let your pain melt away.

It was twenty minutes, before she noticed the creases in Jack's forehead, and the hard clench of his jaw, completely fade away. Exactly as she planned, and all she could have hoped for, to watch his stress disappear, at least a little of it, as she held him, touched him, and smiled for him. For him to let himself be so vulnerable with her, so open, pain laid bare and misery exposed? She loved him, loved him for his honesty, loved him for so many reasons.

The wounded soldier fantasy. Such a cliche that it made her smirk to herself. Had she known that she would ever succumb to its juvenile but poetic allure, she would have denied it. But now, it was simply love.

"I trust Ashley and Julee helped fill your belly?"

"Yeah, thank you for that. I mean, I've been fed a few times since the incident; Julias took care of me. But... yeah, I was still feeling drained, and I greatly appreciate your help."

"You are most welcome, my love."

"... I love you." He shifted his head in closer, and rested his cheek against her lower abdomen.

"I love you." Such powerful, pleasant words, that always forced her old, withered heart to flutter with new wings.

"And... this is really soft." He turned his head slowly, slightly, just enough to rub his nose against where the robe covered her stomach.

"It is cashmere."

His head turned, and his nose pressed up against the underside of one of her heavy breast. "This is really soft too."

She smirked, chuckled, and leaned down to kiss the boy's forehead. Which of course, as the boy's head was pressed to her belly, squashed his face underneath her breast.

"Do you wish to make love, my little Ventrue?"

"I... not sure, really. Kind of torn. Part of me wants to do nothing but sit here, and just... rest, rest on you, rest with you."

"And I would be glad to have you rest upon me, little Jack."

He smiled up at her, a touch of life returning to his dead eyes. "Part me thinks, maybe, sex would be a great way to take my mind off of this stuff instead. And sex lets me be closer to you. I love being closer to you."

The desire to be closer, when already close enough to touch, was a delightful ache she knew all too well with her love. She raised her hand from his stomach, and tapped her chin a few times. "Perhaps you should do both? Please, lie here with me, relax, do nothing, and let me take care of you."

He sighed, each breath useless to a Kindred, and yet so important, so personal how each wavered slightly as the boy again crested on emotional strife. But after a few moments to think about it, he smiled as he handed control to her.

"Yeah... ok. That sounds perfect."

It was perfect. She smiled down at her precious little Ventrue, and slid her hand down his stomach to find his boxers. With a little cooperation, she slid them off and tossed them to the floor, so the boy lay naked across the bed, his head and back upon her lap.