My Little Ventrue Pt. 05 Ch. 10

But, as much as he would have lit up like a Christmas tree fire in July, if she tempted him, she didn't. Maybe she was exhausted, too?

"How was your day?" he said.

"Horrendous, though while I had assumed I would be complaining to a listening ear tonight, I had not thought that your night would be worse."

"Oh, shit, sorry. Please, complain away!" He lowered his head enough he could feel the softness of her breast, near her collar bone. "I'm all ears."

"Ah, well then, I must take advantage of such an offer." Sighing, a lovely, deep, long sigh, she started to stroke the back of his head. Fingers, against buzzed hair. Euphoric. "Much of my day is spent managing the Masquerade, as you know. There are squabbles that occur between Kindred, or mistakes made by Kindred, which must be hidden. Today though, a rather... unusual event occurred, centered around that fellow, Eric."

"The kine? The dude with Beatrice when they saved me?"

"Indeed. In retrospect, I should have realized something was strange about the man. His inclusion into the affairs of the night was quite random, but no longer. Evidently, he is a werewolf."

Jack yanked his head up and blinked at her. "Really?"

"Oui. And now the man, once a small thorn, is a potential knife in my side. Julias has supervised cleaning of the man's awakening — apparently this was his first transformation — to make sure the fool's destruction is not known by the public."

"This happened tonight?"

"Mhhmm."

"Wow. Everything happened tonight." He smirked, laughing, and settled his head back against Antoinette's collar. Another werewolf, holy shit.

"Why do you laugh, my love?"

"Just... just find it... great, you know? That we're talking like this, talking about the shit happening in Dolareido. We didn't do this much before."

The goddess nodded, leaning forward enough to kiss his head. "I was afraid it would taint our interaction. When we first met, you were a shining beacon of wonder, joy, and honesty. I would have done anything to keep you pure, isolated from the dirty machinations of the city."

"Aw, come on, it's not that bad, is it? I mean, yeah, I'm not the same guy I used to be." And frequently, he was put into situations where he was forced to become like Julias, had to lie, or manipulate, or withhold information. On top of that, he'd discovered a new level of hate and anger inside him, sometimes to the point of paralysis. He'd confided in Tash, now he should confide in Antoinette.

Later, he could confide in her, later. For now, God damn it was nice to relax with her and talk about their day.

Antoinette got up. Jack raised a brow, watching; oh, she wanted to get them under the blankets. He rolled with her movement, making space for her to pull the sheets back, and soon the two of them were beneath the blankets, cuddling. Jack had not really cuddled with anyone, until Antoinette. It must have sucked, horribly, for two kine to cuddle; body heat alone made the idea nauseating. He'd die of heat stroke.

But two vampires? No heat issues to worry about. So, he hugged her tight, as her back fit against him. He got to be the big spoon. Which, of course, didn't work very well. He chuckled again, as his face pressed against her hair for a moment, before shifting his chin over her shoulder, instead. With the blanket over their shoulders, he couldn't see her body. But he could feel it, feel the way her large, curvy butt and legs pressed along his body.

Possessed by some evil spirit, or inspired by a sex spirit, his hand drifted over her hip, and up her flat belly, to caress her breast. Maybe one of those sex spirits he dealt with tonight had hitched a ride in his body? It wouldn't have surprised him, as the touch of Antoinette's skin against his body set him on fire, despite his exhaustion.

The best part was, she didn't stop him, say a word, or do anything to discourage him. All she did, was chuckle, as his hand slipped between her breasts, and began to cup and massage where the weight one pressed down on its sister, squashing it to the bed. The softness of it, combined with the weight of it, was the most pleasant feeling in existence, and he sighed joy as he softly squeezed her bosom.

"We have fifteen minutes before sunrise, little Ventrue."

"Yeah, don't mind me." No sex needed, but even without sex, there was no denying how great a breast felt in his palm. "If I had my own, I'd be cupping and massaging them all day."

"Yes, I do believe you have said that before." Chuckling, she brushed her hair with her fingers, finding a better angle for it against the pillows. "What will you do about Eric?"

"I... I don't know. That's really Julias's decision."

"Anticipate your superior's actions, my love. An important skill, to insure your future actions can be made swiftly, and in the correct context."

"Good point. I suppose Julias will want him to see Avery at some point, turn him into a known factor. I might be asked to be involved." His hand drifted down a bit, so he could hug her proper, arm cutting across the upper half of her stomach. "I... don't think we'll kick him out of the luxury suite. Jessy put him there, since he helped us out, helped me out. She trusts him, a bit, and since he works at Bloodlust, the arrangement made sense." Comfy and cozy, she sank into him as he pulled her close. Her arm found his, rested upon it, her fingers settling on his wrist.

"I will have to speak with him, again. The poor man was quite nervous, when we met." The tall woman chuckled, turned her head a touch, and waited. Message received; he leaned in, kissing her neck and cheek. "Fledgling Kindred have their sire to rely on, while this man does not. Whatever advice Avery gives him, I must give him context that it is my city, not hers, and that his decisions must be made with that in mind."

"I don't think Avery will use Eric to rock the boat, or do anything like that." Avery does seem to have the city's best interest in mind, even if that means wanting to do things her own way.

"Perhaps not on purpose, no. But I am sure she will attempt to convert him to her cause, and indirectly, that will create a barrier for me. Truthfully, I would be more content if he continued in his current capacity, as a bouncer for Bloodlust, and in his new living location. There, it is easy for us to keep an eye on him."

"A werewolf bouncer... watching vampires come and go, Kissing kine every night. That is an interesting idea." It was a good one too. "But, Uratha aren't like us, they don't create their own reasons for existing. They have a powerful reason built into them, hunting spirits and keeping the 'balance'." He struggled to raise his hands, to make air quotes. Not easy to do, lying on his side, but it was warranted.

"Long ago, there was an Uratha who hid within my city for a short while. She did not serve any of the tribes. I asked her what she called herself, if not a member of a tribe, and she answered: 'a ghost'." Shrugging, Antoinette brought his hand to her lips, kissing it. "Perhaps Eric will pursue the same fate."

"A ghost... a ghost werewolf?" What a strange way to refer to oneself. He nodded, and hid his face in the back of her neck. "Maybe. It'd be nice if he could create a little stability out of this. Can't go five minutes without something turning upside down."

"Indeed."

Exhaustion returning, he sighed, as the rising sun called for slumber. It didn't matter he was deep underground where its rays didn't reach him, Kindred knew when the sun rose or fell. When it started to rise, a Kindred's body and mind grew heavy, eyelids too, until there was no choice but to give in, close their eyes, and turn into a corpse, until the sun fell, again.

"Love you," he said into Antoinette's ear, as he drifted under. If she said it back, he didn't hear it, but she said it all the time anyway. He should say it more.

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~~Beatrice~~

The next night. She awoke, stretching her arms out and yawning, exposing her crocodile teeth. Back in the lair with her fellow members of the Circle, back in her small hole in the wall, with all the blankets. All of them. She smirked at the pile, sure some real fur was mixed in there; not a fan of killing animals for a fur blanket, but damn it felt snuggly. Maybe she could convince Julias to spend some time here with her. Fucking with the curtain pulled aside so everyone else could watch.

Her long tongue licked her huge teeth at the thought. Yummy.

She got dressed: combat boots, gray jeans, and a black tank top. Kindred were creatures of habit, after all. But, mostly, she just liked to show off her ass and abs. They pulled people's eyes down, away from her mouth; a habit she doubted would ever die. Jacob wore a bandage over his empty eye sockets though, so, she could justify drawing people's gazes to her better features. Not that Julias minded her teeth, but still.

She slid out of her cave, and hopped up into Jen's, expecting to find four extra legs in the girl's room. But, no, just Jennifer, alone. She was wearing a... Snuggie, one of those blankets with sleeves, designed for comfort above all else. A book was in her hand, and not an eBook reader, but an actual book.

"Whatcha reading?" Triss said, as she plopped down next to Jen.

The woman turned the page enough for Triss to see there were some pictures to go with the walls of text. "Manifestations of the Paranormal, by Terrence Moulovia." Nodding, Jen flipped back a page to show what she'd been reading a moment before; the picture was beautiful, if disturbing. A dissected crow, wings typically pinned, with its stomach peeled open and pinned apart, like the wings. "This book is a hundred years old, it has examples of myths, things witches were supposedly doing to sacrifices."

"The Masquerade isn't as well guarded as we thought, if this shit keeps ending up in books." She reached over for it, and Jen handed her the book without complaint. "Jacob showed me some inof his books from his collection. Similar stuff, but much older."

"Yeah, many cultures have been documented these rituals at different points in history. More surprisingly, the same rituals, but at different places in the world, often with an ocean separating them." Jen pointed at the dissected crow, then at the necklace Triss was wearing. "Makes you wonder what sort of... things, really exist."

"You mean Black Blood."

"Partly, yes. That thing... possessed a corpse, Triss. And it talked to us."

Triss nodded, flipping the page to another picture. "He's used different voices before. Seems like he's settled on the voice of a Texan now. I feel like he—err, it, would be right at home cooking us up a barbecue, or talking about cheese." She laughed, but it was a cover. Black Blood's jovial attitude, and undefinable nature, made the damn thing terrifying in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"I always imagined," Jen said, "entities like that, colossal in scope, wouldn't really talk. They'd exist, but do things on a plane beyond our understanding."

"Well, that Black Blood thing is a spirit from the Shadow World. Far as Fiona has told me, that's a sister world to ours. Things there can get... pretty... crazy." Dark, bleeding, black ooze, obsidian death fog, encompassing and overwhelming them. Something that could punch through to their side of the coin, in the most sick, twisted, macabre way. What other entities existed in that world? "I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the gods of myth and legend were spirits."

"Think they were all spirits?"

"Unlikely," a third voice said. Both girls looked up from the pile of blankets and pillows they sat on, to the pale Gangrel, Aaron. He raised a brow when his eyes caught sight of Jen, in the blanket-with-arms, before shrugging.

"You know something?" Triss asked.

"I do." He came in a little, and once Jen offered, he sat down on the blankets, facing them. "Jacob's interest isn't only in the Shadow World."

Jacob wasn't home. He was out, doing his usual sneaky sneak things. Probably sleeping in some hole in the ground he'd dug a century ago. It meant they could talk about him, if they kept their voices down. Jacob's ghouls could hear them, if they got too loud.

Triss slipped Jen back the book, and tilted her head to the side, squinting at the man. "What are his interests?"

"No idea. But I've been around him long enough, seen enough of his artifacts and overheard his rants, to know he dips his toes into other worlds." Aaron shrugged, reached out, and took the book from Jen's hand. "And you, Triss, already know he has an interest in nightmares."

Ah, yes, can't forget about nightmares being an actual place. Professional envy there, Nosferatu and their ability to bestow nightmares ultimately outclassed by literal nightmares walking around. Athalia, and her horror, that torso of bone and wings, was just too damn fucking cool.

Footsteps turned their heads, and the three of them offered a nod to Othello, as the beautiful man jumped into Jen's home.

"Talking about Jacob?" he asked, long hair falling over his dark, tan shoulders. Man never wore a shirt, showing off his muscles every chance he got. Fucking Daeva. Not like she was one to talk, though.

Triss nodded again. "We are."

"I've known him longer than the rest of you. I can assure you, his interest in other realms is nothing new."

"By how much?" Jen said. "How long has he been... well, tempting fate, calling on entities from across God knows what?"

Othello shrugged, sitting down beside Aaron. All the witches, sitting across from each other. If they had a ouija board, it would have been perfect.

"Since forever. I suppose he became more interested in it after Minerva's death."

"... that's a good point," Triss said. "You're pretty damn old, Othello. Been around longer than any of us. What was Minerva like?"

Her question hit him in a strange way. He lowered his gaze, and leaned back so his palms caught his weight on the blankets.

"She was nice, I guess. I never talked to her much. It wasn't every day a Kindred got to be on speaking terms with both the Prince, and the Joker. But she was nice, and sweet, to the point it was almost sickening."

Heh, Joker. Dude was far too old for comic book villains, but maybe Othello stayed up to date with pop culture. Daeva did that sometimes, obsessed with the material as they were.

"She talked with both Jacob and Antoinette?" Jen said.

The Daeva nodded, and adjusted his jeans a bit as he got comfortable on the blankets. "I get the impression she was involved in both their secret pursuits. We know Jacob's agenda includes... well, being an all powerful warlock," he said. Right, not witches, it was witches and warlocks. "The Prince is a dragon, so her pursuits are undoubtedly similar, only pursued in a different way."

Aaron leaned in, voice a whisper. "Operating tables and scalpels, computers and fancy tech, less chanting and blood rituals, more detailed notes and experiments." He flipped through some pages, stopping at a page showing a human in a coffin, being lowered into the ground. "While we touch on topics like... the meaning of life, or death, and which ancient gods drift among us, manifesting as unknowable concepts, the Ordo Dracul treat it like science."

"Yeap," Othello said, "and Minerva seems to have been interested in both worlds. Probably something to do with why Avery killed her."

Jen's eyes lit up. "Were you there for that?"

"No. Glad I wasn't. I saw Jacob the day after, and he was beat up bad." Smirking, the Daeva leaned back a bit, putting his shoulder blades on the cave wall. "Then again, so were Avery, Simon, and the rest of the pack."

Triss tried to whistle. No good, damn it. "Jacob against a whole pack of werewolves?"

"We did watch him beat up Arturo and Matthew, Tash's two boy toys." Chuckling, Jen reached out and took the book back from Aaron. The chuckle faded, and her eyes fell as silence buried them. The boys waited, looking at each other and the women with raised brows, until Jen sighed. "It wasn't pretty. Jacob really hates werewolves, that mindless sort of hate, you know?"

"Yeah." Triss collapsed backward as well, settling her shoulder against the wall as she looked at the cave ceiling. "It was impressive, seeing a small guy like that decimate two werewolves in hand to hand, like they were fucking children. But at the same time, he goaded them, and took advantage of the situation." Not doing the best job keeping him cool, Beatrice. Prince asked you to, maybe you should try a little harder. "I should talk to him, later." After you go see Damien. Been putting that off long enough. Ugh.

"Where your boys been lately, Jen?" Othello asked, gesturing to the cave around them. "Used to be you and me stinking up this place with ghoul sweat. Now it's just me."

"I... honestly... haven't really felt like enjoying them." She shrugged, the blanket-with-arms looking utterly hilarious, and cute, on her. "Been more than satisfied with Triss and Julias."

Triss winked at her, before looking back at the ceiling. Was Jen getting drawn into the lovey dovey romance Julias and Triss drowned each other in on the reg? Or was the sex that good, Jen didn't need it from anyone else? Either way, it made Triss chuckle a bit, and earn an elbow in the side from the Ventrue.

Othello smiled smugly, then let Jen's admission pass with a shrug. "I remember the way Jacob was, after Minerva's death. It wasn't pretty. He turned into a stone. It was a long time before the Jacob we know and love, and hate, came out again."

"It was true love," Aaron said. "Rare among us vampires. I can only imagine what it must be like, to know someone for years, know you could spend the next century loving them, and then someone else tears them away, like"—finger snap—"that. I wonder if Jacob even realizes the powerfulness of his life story." God damn, Aaron did love to over-narrate things. Maybe a repercussion of his unhealthy love of reading. Why read when you could watch the movie.

"He's had no one to talk about it with," Triss said.

The other three vampires looked at each other. The guilt on their faces was blatant.

"Correct," Aaron said. "Approaching Jacob about the topic isn't easy, as you can imagine."

"Since her death," Othello continued, "Jacob's been buried deeply in his rituals and research."

"Research?" Jen said. "You make him sound like a dragon, not a warlock."

Triss snorted, throat catching on a small laugh. The word witches sounded cool, bad ass, and very dark and mysterious. Warlocks sounded like nerds.

"He's being a bit more thorough," Othello said, "than I remember him being before Minerva's death. Not that I know that much; we avoided getting too involved in the crúac, Triss, until you called us out on it. Dolareido's been... easy living, for the most part."

Aaron nodded. "We just sit here and watch the Carthians and Invictus get on each other's cases, while our boss explores the depths of madness, and other dimensions."

"You had a good thing going," Triss said. "I can't blame you. It's not... well, yeah, I mean now that everything's turning to shit, monsters, werewolves, hunters, and fucking what not, I expected the you three to participate a more. But if Jacob's been hands-off with you this whole time, yeah, no wonder you haven't been involved." Leaning back in, she tapped a claw against one of her larger crocodile teeth, several times, as she looked at the others. "Within six months of working for the Carthians, Garry had me doing scouting missions on operations the Invictus were running. That bar over by Fifth and Darper Street? That was me."

That earned some oohs and aahs from the other vampires, and Triss grinned with the sound. Yeap, she'd done some damage that night, when she wasn't supposed to have. Broke some poor suit's arm too. Bitch had it coming, though.