My Little Ventrue Pt. 05 Ch. 03

Ok, if she wanted a feel for the situation, he could help with that. "Invictus are worried about your relationship with Garry, as well. The situation is a little tense between us and the Carthians lately, and if push comes to shove, it'd be bad for us if we found you on their side."

She raised a brow, and looked over at Clara, who shrugged at her. Laughing, Avery shook her head again, and smiled at him. "Christ, you vamps are ridiculous. You think because Garry and I get along that I'll ever, ever let it affect my decisions with shit like that? Your political games are idiotic and self destructive."

"I... don't disagree that they can be pretty stupid." The Danse Macabre was a painful lesson to learn, but it was the way of things. At a certain point, it was time to accept that vampires were immortal creatures, loners by nature, and forced to share resources; the environment bred deceit and manipulation. "But like you said, you're friends with Garry. If we showed up at his door one day, with intent to kill him, you're saying you wouldn't get involved?"

"If it ever got to that point, I'd have to be more than buds with Garry to risk my family in a full-on war." She got up, and stepped around behind the couch. Pacing. He understood pacing well, a way to let the mind function more smoothly. Never once in his life did he manage to talk on the phone, without getting up and pacing around. "So calm the fuck down. I'm not going to go to war with the Invictus unless you guys do something that would deserve us slaughtering you." Confidence dripping out of her pores, she ran her fingers back through her black hair, before pulling the long ponytail around her waist to hold it in front of her. Reminded him of Antoinette, and how she liked to play with her hair when she was thinking. "... you'll still talk to Jacob though, right?"

There it was. He smiled back at her, a subtle one, one that spared her some face, instead of calling her out on it. "Yeah. Apparently peacemaker is my new role here in Dolareido, and... well, I'm down for that. Gonna talk to Garry too at some point. But..."

"But?"

"It'll be hard to convince Jacob to do anything, if you're not going to spill the beans about Minerva."

"... you understand what werewolves do, right?"

"You... kill spirits. And other things, from... that other place." Learning anything about what the Uratha did was tough. The witches and dragons both kept their secrets about their mystical pursuits, like the Invictus and Carthians kept their secrets about their tactical decisions. But with the Uratha, it was like trying to piece together a mystery, using the evidence left at the scene of the crime. It wasn't that the Uratha were actively hiding what they did, they just didn't bother to share the details, and the Kindred were hopeless to piece together anything from the aftermath.

It must have drove Jacob and Antoinette both insane.

"We prevent the two worlds from fucking each other up. Mostly, the Shadow world wants to get its claws into this one, and most spirits do all they can to worm their way over here, and spread their influence... you know what? I'll show you."

"Um... what?" Uh oh.

"I'm not going to take you into the Hisil, relax. I am going to show you the sort of shit that happens on this side of the wall, though."

"Uh, um... sure, but uh, what about Damien and Jessy?"

"They can wait here. We'll keep an eye on you."

"I'm not sure that—"

"Either they wait here, or I don't show you shit. Your choice."

"And the Prim—"

"You can talk to your Primogen about this; it's nothing they don't already know, if only a little. But, you'll probably want to keep this to yourself, Jack. I'm giving you a peek of what's out there, what's in this city you're ignorant of, and your elders are barely aware of."

He sighed, looked down at the scuffed and dented floor, rubbed his head back and forth, and juggled words on his tongue. He needed to get Avery on his side, as per his Invictus orders, and get her to commit to helping with the hunters. He also needed to be an information exchange point with the Primogen. But, if this information let him make better decisions in pursuit of any of those things, then...

Do it. Get the information, figure out what to do with it later.

"Alright."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damien and Jessy weren't too happy about the arrangement. He wasn't either. But, no risk no gain, supposedly. He wasn't a fan of that philosophy, and would argue that risk was a great way to get yourself fucked; he knew Antoinette would agree. But, Avery liked him, far as he could tell, and she wanted to throw him a bone.

For the love of god, don't make a dog pun out loud.

Clara and Avery were with him, leader and second-in-command. She had a lot of faith in her pack to be able to monitor and guide themselves, keep themselves in check and under the radar while she was gone, considering the circumstances they were in. But then, she was also willing to split some of them up, and let two of them live in the Invictus territory. Almost sounded like a student exchange program, considering he was currently neck deep in werewolf business, and soon Clara and Carter would be neck deep in the Invictus half of South Side. Hopefully they knew that meant they'd be monitored even more than they were now.

The three of them headed to Devil's Corner. Jack left his jacket and tie at their apartment, not wanting to attract the attention of muggers. It'd really suck for the muggers, to try and jump him and the two women with him. Would the Uratha kill kine that easily? It was better for everyone if they didn't, and besides, the less eyes on him the better. His mother and sister were still alive out there, living their own lives, and one fuck up had already nearly broken the Masquerade.

They stopped in front of a hotel. Except, not really a hotel. A brothel, sort of. Restless Nights was one of the few places in Dolareido that sold sexual services, that had worked out a deal with the Invictus to avoid legal ramifications. Far as he knew, it was a pretty sweet deal for everyone involved. The kine who sold their bodies were kept in good health, provided with health care and such, and the management staff weren't abusive pimps. And those doing the fucking also got to pick their clients; but considering it was commission work, and everyone in Devil's Corner was poor, he was sure they usually said yes.

Course, no one knew about all these details, the broken laws and the hidden dirt, except for the higher ups and the Invictus. And, of course, Vicky and Parker, the two Invictus who ran the joint.

"You ever been here?" Avery said.

"M-Me? No, course not."

Laughing, she took them around back into a dark alley, and around behind the building. "It has a very low turnover rate, so I've learned. Turns out, the whores who work here, actually like working here."

"... maybe it's because of the benefits? Parker and Vicky keep it in good shape." They kept other joints in good condition as well. At this point, knowing that Kindred were running brothels in 2018 was almost quaint.

"Maybe. But that's not everything." Avery knocked on the back door, no doorknob. It was the sort of back door you expected to find on the back of a suspicious building, the ones that hid their contents inside their basements, making meth or selling children. The latter, definitely not in Dolareido, but the former, probably lots.

Someone opened the door, a portly woman, big cheeks and frizzy black hair. "Hello? We don't have any appointments with—"

"Take us to the room," Avery said.

"W-What?"

Ah, the stutter, the classic sign of someone being both surprised, and finding themselves in need of hiding a secret.

Jack waved a hand. "I'm Jack Terry."

"Oh... oh! Right, the Master Terry." The woman nodded, and backed away to let them into the building. "Didn't know the Invictus were making a visit. Madam Goldman and Mister White aren't here, but—"

"No no, it's fine. This isn't about them, or anything like that." He nodded a little as he and the two werewolves stepped in, and he leaned forward to look around. Vicky Goldman, Parker White, neither were here, so he could take a peek. A couple of offices, and around the corner, a small hall leading to the front desk. An old, rundown building, like it belonged in the Carthian district, but Devil's Corner was harsher, meaner, dirtier, than the Carthians like. No money to be had for the Invictus, and no loyalty to be had for the Carthians. But, there's always money in sex. Maybe not a lot, considering the locale, but there was some.

"Right this way, Master Terry. The room, right. I'm surprised you know about it. Five of our girls and one of our boys is down there now. Looking to meet someone? Of course you're not, not with that Prince as your arm candy. Good lord, you're so small, I have to wonder what that's like. Sorry, never been to any of the meetings myself, I—"

Jack raised a brow as the woman prattled on, and on, and on. A thrall, and one Jack could tell her sire kept out of the loop. But she knew who he was, and knew he was dating the Prince, so, either she knew at least a little, or he was famous enough for all the thralls to be talking about him. And, he had to admit, that kinda stroked his ego a bit.

Instead of taking them into the lobby, she took them into the other office. Old, half-rotting wood, white walls dented or stained, desks with piles of papers on them. A computer with a CRT monitor running Windows Vista. Good god. He looked back at Avery and Clara, and laughed, louder than he meant to, at how the two of them looked around at the place like someone might when entering a lovely wood cottage for the first time. They probably thought the place was homely.

The thrall opened a door, and started down the stairway. The smell of weed and other drugs wafted up into the air. He expected old wooden stairs, damp and scratched concrete walls, and exposed wiring, maybe a dehumidifier sitting on the floor, trying to keep the place from collapsing into a swamp. But, the room greeted him with white walls, cleaner than the ones upstairs, and as they descended, high ceilings showed dangling bits of... beads? Dark beads, hanging like curtains, hundreds of them, ends connected to the ceiling of polished metal grating, so they came within inches of touching the floor with curving lines.

The sound of moans filled his ears before he could spot the source.

He looked down. The stairs weren't wood, but soft carpet, thick shaggy carpet, maroon and clean. When they got to the floor, the same sort of carpet greeted them; wait, there was a door mat with a bunch of shoes on it, before the door. They should have taken off their shoes. He reached down, but the thrall laughed and shook her head.

"Don't worry about it Master Terry. You and your friends can do whatever you like of course. We'll clean up any dirt, don't you worry none."

"Thanks."

"Can you leave us alone?" Avery said.

"... um, if that's what the little Master wants. Not sure the Prince would appreciate this though, Master Terry."

"W-What?" He raised his brows, looked at Avery and Clara, who were laughing like a couple of jackasses, before he looked back to the thrall. "No, they're my friends. They wanted to show me something, and it's... kind of private?" Yeah, now that he took a second to consider the situation, it did seem like he came here to fuck, didn't it. Shit. "I'm not here for anything sexual. This is business."

"Well, whatever you say Master Terry. Just come get me if you need anything." The big woman smiled at him, offered a small bow, and started back up the stairs. Slippers. Big, fuzzy slippers.

Clara started her way through the beads, though she slipped off her boots before she did. Avery too. Heh, well, if they were going to, he might as well. He slipped off his dress shoes, and smirked down at the feel of the thick carpet giving into his weight. He smiled more at the sound of beads knocking against each other as Clara and Avery started to move them. What sort of secret wonder would they find?

They'd find... an orgy.

He rolled his eyes as he stepped into the center of the room, the hanging beads creating thick walls around them. Blankets and pillows of all shapes and colors covered the floor, and from the ceiling hung by a white cable, was a small, dangling statue of a naked woman and naked man, wrapped around each other. Shining like silver, it gently turned in spot, as if nudged by the rising smoke of the humans beneath it.

Like the thrall had said, five women, one man. The man was on his back, laid out upon a purple blanket, hands behind his head, while another woman sat on his pelvis, fucking him. The four other women were interacting with the couple, touching, massaging, caressing, suckling, kissing. All of them were smoking, smoking various things as far as he could tell.

They all turned to look at Avery, and froze.

"Uratha!" one of the women said. "We... we have not spread! We have not devoured or consumed or infected! Only gentle, only urge. Please, you do not need to—"

Avery raised a hand, came up to the orgy, and squatted down beside the group of people. Course she took a peek, smirking as she eyed the veritable feast of flesh before her. Restless Nights kept their workers in good health.

"Not here to send you back, spirit. You've shown a lot of self control."

"Yes, self control!" another woman said. "Do not need to hunt us."

"But, I do want you to show yourself. Present yourselves to the vampire here. Or I will send you back."

The six kine looked at her, and then, like a choir, turned their heads together to look at Jack. One by one, they all started to drift to sleep, bodies slipping into a restful coma on top of each other, chests rising and falling with their dozing. They were all attractive and fit. Restless Nights knew what it was doing, and Jack couldn't help but admire their bodies. No sweat, and the room was a pleasant temperature; must have preferred slow sex. Maybe they—

He jumped back, and opened his eyes wide, as a pink fog began to seep out of their bodies. What in the ever fuck. He froze, stared, and glanced Avery and Clara's way to see what they were doing, if they were going to freak out like he was. But the two of them didn't move, Clara with her hands in her jeans pockets, and Avery only moving enough to get up from her squat. Just watch and wait then, he guessed. They may have been used to seeing strange, bright, gaseous blurs rise up from the sleeping bodies of kine, but he sure wasn't, and he found himself reaching for his knife, kept under his pant leg. Clara stopped him though, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking her head, while keeping her eyes on the pink display.

Pink began to form into something solid. Six figures, hovering a foot in the air, each about five feet tall. Arms began to form. Hands, fingers. A waist, hips. No legs though, as if he was looking at six genies from a cartoon. Faces formed upon heads with slender necks. And, as he stared on, he found one of his eyebrows lowering, the other raising higher, as breasts began to solidify on their chests. Some small, some large, and one spirit displayed a set of breasts big enough to dwarf Antoinette's; almost comical, and yet, not, considering the spirit was floating around with no legs. All the curves, the hips and waists, the shoulders into the arms and neck, the back curve into shapely asses, all were emphasized or accented.

Their faces lacked defining shapes, except for solid, glowing blue eyes, and glowing blue lips. Seductive lips, some thick, some thin, but all with small smiles and subtle grins. The pink skin of their forms was see-through, like looking through stained glass art, thick enough it was hard to see to the other side. But as they finished... coalescing, or whatever it was that they were doing, he gulped at the sight of their nipples, blue like their lips. The obviousness of their sexual nature was almost palpable.

"As you can see Jack," Avery said, stepping over the sleeping kine and between the slow hovering spirits, "Vicky and Parker have stumbled onto something they may or may not understand." She reached up, and grinned at him as she flicked her fingers against the small, dangling statue of the two lovers. "This place, one of those 'sex holes' I've heard about, is frequented by sex spirits."

"Sex spirits?"

"Mmhmm. Spirits that live on, feed on, the essence that resonates with sexual pleasure. They're everywhere in the Shadow, in Dolareido. Slut City, right?" She gestured to one of the hovering pink things, and set a hand upon her—its back. Pushing it toward him, Avery laughed, and the spirit, eyes wide with fear upon being touched, grinned after a moment, and let the werewolf push her into him.

Physically touching a spirit. What? He looked at her—it! It, and it put its hands on his shoulders. Without irises or pupils, solid blue eyes were hard to read, but from the slanted squint, and the curling grin, it looked like the spirit was having fun. She dri—it drifted around him, came up behind him, and pushed its breasts into his back. Soft, so very soft, and it felt like human skin, human tenderness, human heat.

"Spirits spread their influence," Clara said. "It's what they live for, it's why they exist. They'll do anything they can to do that, barring getting themselves killed. They pursue it with total one-mindedness."

"But, we do not... spread needlessly. Understanding, yes? We have understanding." The spirit behind him put its chin on his shoulder, and hugged him all the harder. "Much sexuality from this little one. Can taste it. But, you are dead thing. The Parker, and the Vicky, they can... blush life, it is called? Join us. We will pleasure, prove we do not overstep."

Avery rolled her eyes, but Clara smirked at him. Yeah, being called out as having 'much sexuality' by a sex spirit was a little strange, and if he was blushing life, he'd be blushing until his face bled lava.

Clara must have been thinking it too. "Much sexuality? Hearing that from a sex spirit, call me impressed," she said.

Another spirit floated to him, one of the thinner ones with small breasts. And then another, the one with the absurd breasts, both reaching out and taking his hands. They tugged on him, tried to pull him toward the sleeping humans, and they giggled as they did. Such lovely sounds, very feminine, very siren. They were very stereotypical too, bleeding sexuality in such obvious, ridiculous ways, to the point it felt surreal. They felt surreal.

"... why do they all look like women?" he said, doing his best to ignore the beautiful creatures tugging on him. Their tugs were gentle enough he could resist them, and dig his socks into the carpet.

"The form spirits take when they manifest isn't always specific. For a lot it is, but some look different or change in certain ways." Avery shrugged again, and gestured to one of the spirits. The spirit, on queue, changed forms, adopting a very masculine figure, with the classic V shape for the shoulders to hips, thick arms, defined abs, and... a penis dangling down almost a foot long. Well, shit. Still a pink, floating genie looking entity though, partly see-through, with glowing blue eyes and glowing blue lips.

Both werewolves licked their lips at the same time, at the sight of the spirit, and its new, masculine form. Clara laughed, and stepped in closer to the 'ideal' male specimen, almost like she was going to kiss the man. But instead, she grabbed hi—it by the shoulder, and pulled it in close.

"You better not be ruining these humans' lives, right? If people start dying to drug overdoses here, or fucking till they starve, we'll—"

"Not! We are not. We do not claim, do not harm." His new, deep, manly voice came through, such a jarring juxtaposition to the feminine giggles of the others. These spirits were ridiculous.