My Little Ventrue Pt. 05 Ch. 02

He raised a brow at her, and looked for the joke, the smirk. Not a one. She meant what she said, and despite the messenger, it was advice he had to admit sounded plausible, and useful. Tracking down the hunters, building relations with the neighboring monsters, cultivating the kine into a manageable food source, and establishing defensive measures against all the above, was work, but also not. It was life. Becoming good at it was becoming good at what Kindred did, at their second lives. It's how you got to live to be five hundred years old.

"That is a pretty awesome way to think about it," he said. "Guess... I still think about shit like this in terms of my old life, work as a barrier to get out of my way so I can get back to living."

"Ha, yeah, you're a real product of the new world. Well, you'll get in the groove eventually. It is so god damn satisfying to see your efforts bear fruit when it's your life we're talking about. The money is just a nice bonus, the real reward is knowing you can rest easy and drink of the kine, because you defended your territory."

"Speaking of defense. Any new developments?"

"Not a one. Those hunter fuckers just vanished. Sometimes I wish we lived in a smaller city."

He nodded, and rubbed his head at he considered it. "Smaller city means this many vamps would draw attention more easily though. We could sire a bunch more vamps here instead; city could handle a thousand or more."

"But then we're at each other's throats fighting over kine. You think it's tense with the Carthians now? Mob mentality is a ruthless, fickle bitch, and she grows more ruthless and fickle the bigger the crowd."

"Which reminds me, I should visit Garry."

Jessy quirked a brow, downed her drink, and got up to get some more. Girl acted like she lived there, but he didn't mind. "Why?"

"He's friends with Avery."

"Yeah but, we're trying to get around that, not use that. The deal was to give Avery a treat so she'll like us too, right?"

He dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. "She'll see through that. The council knows it too. They're trusting me to think up something better, some way to get her involved, get her on our side, and get her out there looking for those hunters."

"... and Garry's the key?"

"Sort of. Wanna be friends with someone? Be friends with their friends."

She sighed, but shrugged. "I don't see that happening, but, whatever, you're the voice. You gonna arrange a meeting with him?"

"Eventually. For now, let's take a trip back to where Barry's den burned down."

"What? Why?"

"Need to recruit a couple friends."

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"Where is Damien anyway?" he said. The two of them were standing on the building Jack had used, when he talked to the two crows. It wasn't so long ago, and he knew crows had good memories.

"Hanging out with Maria, doing churchy things, I assume." Sounded like she didn't care for the Lancea et Sanctum either.

Jack looked up at the sky, and around the nearby buildings, the old antennae, the vents, steam exits, and the crows that made their living up here on the city's rooftops. Rats and cockroaches too, but they stuck to the insides of buildings, while the crows perched and made the outdoors their home.

"So, uh... what're we doing?" she said.

"Waiting."

"... uh huh." She shrugged, folded her arms across her chest, and waited. Sometimes, he really liked her simple mind.

It took a little time, but eventually, two crows took off from some nearby power lines, and flew over to perch atop a jutting vent over their heads. But, once he looked up to meet their gaze, they flew down to land on the building roof a few feet away from him. The two crows hopped over to him, cawed a few times, and fluttered their wings a few times more. He crouched down, and motioned with them to come closer. Without hesitation, they closed what little distance remained, and hopped up onto his arm.

"Careful of the suit," he said, clicking his tongue to articulate that he meant his clothes. And they obeyed, claw grip growing softer as they hopped higher up. Though, defeated by the lack of space, one of the crows hopped off, catching flight and turning around to land on the other shoulder.

"You're good at animalism," Jessy said, "damn good for a vamp your age."

"Thanks." He looked to his right, and smiled at the crow, made eye contact with it, looked into the black gaze it offered him. She offered him, apparently. He looked to his left, and nodded as he looked into its eyes too. His eyes. A male and female, the two crows cawed at Jessy, who came closer and leaned in to click her tongue at them a few times as well. She could speak to them as well, anyone who knew animalism could; Ventrue and Gangrel, specifically.

"They recognize you."

"Mmhmm. They tipped me off about the four hunters scouting this place out. I had them watching the ball too, watching me."

"Smart."

He nodded, and looked at each crow once again, taking turns. "Did you keep track of me when I left the ball with Damien?" They nodded. "Good. Show me."

The mental connection required vitae, required him to tap into a part of him inside, animalistic, a creature that spoke in body language, smells, snarls and howls when angry, or purrs and gentle bites when pleased. He didn't do those things, the beast in his guts did, silent but there, and with his vitae acting as the bridge to connect with these creatures, they could hear the beast.

And his beast was stronger than it was when he talked to these birds the last time. They fluttered a little, cawed a few more times, and looked past him at each other with frequently tilting heads. They were asking if this was the same two-leg walker from last time. Looked the same. Smelled the same. Didn't feel the same.

"I am the same."

The birds shrugged, as much as a bird could shrug, and continued the mental story. An alley. Dark. Damien walked out of it. Jack was still in there. They flew in closer and watched Damien walk away in the direction of the Cathedral. When they landed on the building above the alley where Jack was stabbed, they looked down, but he was gone.

"Didn't see anything strange? Like, anyone stepping out of thin air? Or something stepping out of shadows when there shouldn't have been anyone there?"

The birds shook their head, and cawed thrice more. They showed him again, the blackness of the alleyway, and hints of him, hands grabbing him from behind, stabbing him through the heart from behind, and dragging him away. Well, it was another point for Damien; not that Jack still suspected him, but more evidence that the man probably hadn't betrayed him was good.

"Hey... you two, you want a home? Easy access to food?"

"Jack, are you turning these two into pets?"

He turned to face her, shrugged, and nodded toward each crow. "Why not?"

"Because you're controlling them with animalism."

"I am not, I'm communicating with them, and asking for a favor. Just... slightly influenced favors."

Jessy rolled her eyes, but shrugged. "Plenty of Ventrue and Gangrel raise pets, in smaller towns and stuff. Feed them some vamp blood and they'll be loyal, and addicted."

"I don't think that's necessary." And he found it a bit cruel. Forcing the blood vinculum on humans, turning them into thralls or ghouls, was a bit cruel as well. But sometimes it was done with good intent, with permission, like with Antoinette's ghouls. Sometimes it was done simply because Kindred were higher on the food chain, and knew how to use the resources available to them.

Maybe one night he'd have a thrall or ghoul of his own, but not tonight. The two crows looked at each other, then at him, then at each other, and went around and around for a little while, until he pulled out some rolled oats, and tossed them on the ground. He squatted down as well, and smiled as the birds hopped down his arms like a diving board, jumping off, and began poking at the oats.

"I've noticed," he said, "a lot of the Kindred in this city rely on thralls and ghouls for their reconnaissance and labor. Hell, almost overwhelmingly."

"Viktor didn't only use thralls, and neither does Julias. Both used animals frequently."

"Guess I'm continuing in their footsteps. There's a goldmine of information to be had by making friends with animals."

Jessy frowned, for a moment, before wiping it away and shrugging. "It's not easy managing a bunch of thralls. You think you'll do better with a bunch of crows?"

He looked into the crows' eyes, and as they poked at the rolled oats until satisfied before eating them, they looked back at him. Something there, something that clicked, something that made sense, something that worked like the right cog to fix a clock.

"Just call me Poe."

"... Edgar Allan Poe? Dude, that was a raven in the poem."

"... shut up." Ok, maybe she wasn't so simple. "Alfred Hitchcock then?"

"Better."