My Little Ventrue Pt. 05 Ch. 11

She would have to speak to the spirit, and soon.

And then, of course, there was the squid-like spirit she had summoned, that had told them of Maria. A strange coincidence, for the necklace to summon such an entity with its resonance. Talk of Maria could have been a mislead, a goose chase, but she doubted it. Even if the necklace had been tampered with, and the results of the summoning a consequence of that tampering, it did not cast much doubt onto the spirit's words. Spirits were strange entities, and the dance of lies was not one she suspected they usually joined in.

Oh Maria. Please, do not destroy yourself in some insane pursuit of resurrecting your fallen lover. If Antoinette had to kill Lucas herself this time, it would be horrible for the Nosferatu, a blow to her soul twice. The Prince doubted any vampire of serious age could survive such pain doubled, in so short a span of time.

In addition, the concept of resurrection itself was foolhardy, insane, and liable to lead to the deaths of others. An old tale, and one that always ended in disaster. What dark corners of the world would someone obsessed with bringing back their lover go to, was forever on her mind. She half expected Jacob had walking, talking, fake Minervas in a basement, made of body parts the man had collected from graveyards. The two elder Nosferatu were at the top of the list, for such audacious courses of action.

If the spirit's words were not about a futile attempt at resurrection by Maria, but rather, Maria's attempts to determine the details about Lucas's death, then that was less a threat to the city, and more a threat to Terry. The details were unneeded, as Maria had no reason to not believe Damien's explanation: Lucas died at Antoinette's hand, and that was that. But Antoinette could not blame the woman for seeking more details about her love's death, either. If Jack had died, Antoinette would not rest until she had enough evidence to recreate the scene in its entirety, with exact detail.

If Maria was the cause of Azamel's warning, Antoinette would have no choice but to kill her, once she could confirm Maria was engaged in dangerous activity that risked the city. She did not want to do that. As much as Maria was a cold, harsh woman, she was one of the wiser Kindred Antoinette had dealt with.

"Thinking?" Daniel said.

"Oui, mon ami." She smiled at him, and motioned for him to follow. A small amount of strength was all it took, to send both Kindred flying through the air, back toward her tower. Once they were a few blocks away, they dropped down into the street, while Daniel's cloak of night kept their descent hidden and casual.

"While Jacob flirts with the other side," he said, "and perhaps, so does Maria, we ignore Michael and Garry. Those two dogs are bound to bite each other, sooner or later."

She sighed, and turned to watch the crowd they walked past. As they headed deeper into South Side, the dresses and suits returned, the lies that people wore on their skin, perpetuated with money, money, and more money. Prime real estate for any Kindred looking to trick, exploit, or flirt their way to a Kiss. Of no concern to any Daeva with some years under their belt, though, who naturally gravitated toward owning several ghouls, and only drinking from them.

She smirked at no one, and raised a hand to touch her lips. Her mind truly was wandering, drifting, as of late. The squabbles of Michael and Garry were low on her list of worries, but that was because her mind refused to focus on the real threats, instead, preoccupied with the invisible ones looming overhead.

"You do not believe Julias will keep the Carthians and Invictus from conflict?" she said.

"I don't. I admire the man's conviction, in dealing with the hunters, and the Begotten, and the Uratha, but he forgets the troubles at his feet."

Ah yes, another thing she had in common with the man.

"I wonder," she said, "if Garry will take advantage of the rising stress, and create a scenario the Invictus will lose territory or power in. Avery is his friend, to some extent or another, and if Maria is truly entering dark waters, then Avery and Garry may both have reason to confront her. And if they confront her..."

"Then the Carthians and Invictus might have a reason to restart the violence of old," Daniel said. If that happened, she would be forced to bring the two covenants in line; or worse, side with one.

"What has Michael done of late?"

"Some Invictus were seen in a Carthian bar, getting friendly with kine."

A precursor to feeding. It was an easy way to test the waters, to show up at a location, and through simple flirtation, see what kine responded. And, to see what Kindred responded. If no Kindred did respond, the Kindred encroaching on territory would feel emboldened to continue violating territory, and perhaps begin discreet feeding. Like cliques in high school, poking each other, or the machinations of warring Greek states, testing each other's borders. Juvenile idiocy that neither kingdoms nor people never dropped as they aged. Infuriating.

"As much as I would like to scare the children straight, please continue your search for the threat Azamel has warned us of. I will mention this in the next Primogen meeting. If something happens between the Carthians and Invictus, then I will insure they comply with my wishes from now on." Even if it meant smashing their faces in with her fists until they both agreed to be good little children.

"It's been a long time since we've meddled in their affairs directly. You sure you don't want to do this a little more hands off, like with Viktor and Tony?"

"Perhaps. Not Michael, or Garry, or Avery will handle their situations with delicacy. Jacob and Maria will, but I do not trust the outcomes they will create. I will have to predict their motivations, and set them on a path of failure."

"You could let them be."

She stopped, and looked at the man. His face was still as always, almost cold, and he adjusted his glasses as he stopped as well. To let them fight would mean damage to her city, and moreover, a threat to her little Ventrue. But at the same time, it could be a way for the two covenants to settle differences; violence, despite conventional wisdom, was a profoundly effective means of settling many problems.

But it was not without its problems. The two covenants might find themselves in situations where they could damage the Masquerade, on a whim of self preservation. Or they could damage her city, in order to gain advantage in their idiotic cold war with each other, elevating it from cold into something far worse. In the modern age, that meant a combination of both cyber warfare, and tools of war beyond the easily controlled. Flamethrowers were easy to construct from any kitchen in the new world, and not her primary concern. She was far more concerned about the explosives that could be attached to the underside of vehicles, or new age sniper rifles that could be fired from miles away.

She longed for the days of old, where the worst she had to worry about was a musket, and maybe a torch. Back in such a time, she, Jacob, Daniel, Tony, and Viktor had found this quaint little village, and had had no trouble setting up their plans. She broke the minds of the men and women with silk words and the majesty discipline, turned their leaders into doting servants, and created safety for her fellow Kindred. They built their underground tunnels over years, and created a quiet utopia where their different covenants could co-exist. When Carthians came, she accepted them. When the blasted Lancea et Sanctum came, she accepted them. It was a utopia for all.

Sometimes, she wondered if that was a mistake.

"You're going to think yourself into a hole," Daniel said.

"Oui, mon ami, c'est vrai. But it has served me well. These are... difficult problems, not only in complexity, but philosophically."

The sheriff shrugged, and they continued along. Just two people, drifting amongst the growing crowd of citizens walking the sidewalks, with cars driving by at slow speeds, and with bright lights from casinos and clubs lighting their way.

"You and I could wipe the Carthians out," he said. "Only Garry would pose a challenge, and I think I could take him out before he realized anything was up."

"Do not hurt the man, Daniel."

"What about Michael MacDonald? He's just as much a mindless mutt as Garry. They'll be at each other's throats, despite all these problems falling down on us."

"If we cannot keep the peace between the covenants, then we... then I will have failed in my greater mission, old friend."

The sheriff frowned. For a stone statue to frown was as powerful as a sword cutting through metal. "Or they'll have failed you."

"That... may be a detail of truth, but one that reality does not care about. It is on me to insure these fools cooperate, and I will see it done, one way or another."

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~~Julias~~

"I killed a child."

The two women stared at him, and gulped. As Kindred got older, they dropped that reflex; not so with Jen and Triss, not yet. The two women were young enough to gulp, and stare, and look terribly uncomfortable by the reality of what he'd just said.

Two secrets down, three to go.

"H-How did that happen?" Triss said.

The three of them were in his mansion again, but not the negotiation room. This time, the descent into pain and misery would be had in one of the living rooms, where softness could do its job, and lighten blows. His thralls had changed the curtains, moved the couches, changed some of the chairs, so now the room was gold and white motif. He sat on the couch with Jen, and Triss sat in a chair backward, facing him, only a few feet away.

"I was young, and trapped in a cellar. I had to hide from the sunlight, and I'd suffered serious wounds in a fight with the Carthians." The memory ran up his spine, like fire with a vengeance. It wasn't Garry's fault, but the man hadn't done much to prevent the incident either. "Healing during the day drained me to almost nothing. When the sun set, a kid came down into the cellar around the time I woke up. I went into a frenzy, and jumped him." Eyes. He could remember the eyes, more than anything. Shock, fear, rising into a climax of terror, as he sank his fangs into his young neck.

Fiddling with her crow necklace, Triss looked down, and stared at it. Easier than looking at him, he supposed.

"Never killed a kid," she said.

"Good." He leaned forward, and let his arms dangle over his knees. "Took years to let that go. And I never really can."

Jen tilted her head to the side. "Why?" She was wearing something more conservative than usual, a suit with a skirt, but with the blouse fully done up. The body language was different, too. She didn't lean forward as much, no longer showing off her impressive bosom. And her eyes held a little anxiety to them, as if something had spooked her. Something probably had. Maybe Julias's words, but he suspected it was more so something Jacob had done.

"Sometimes the memories start to cut, especially when I get very hungry. State-dependent memory, maybe? Probably not, being undead and all, but..." He shook his head, and looked down. Everyone was looking down at this point, and it made it easier to let the words resonate. But he didn't let the silence sit for any longer than a minute. Any longer and the air would turn to ice. "It was a very long time ago, and, time heals all wounds, right?"

He chuckled. They didn't.

"I hope it does," Jen said. "So, um, my turn?"

The Nosferatu shrugged. "We really don't have to do this, you know."

"No no, this is good." Sighing, Jen reached out, and pat him on the leg. "I've killed a youngling as well. But, not a human. A Kindred."

Well, shit. "When did that happen?"

"Five years ago. A Kindred, not even a year embraced, had recently come to Dolareido, alone. They were testing the waters, learning about the covenant balance here." She put a fingernail to her lip, and nibbled on it. "She cornered me. She had a problem with the Circle, and thought she saw an opportunity to... impress the other covenants, I guess, if she took me out." Shivering, she got up, and started to pace the room. "It got ugly. By the end of it, we were tearing chunks out of each other with our fingers. It... it lasted a while, and killing her was... was brutal."

Triss got up, got behind Jen, and hugged her, setting her chin on the woman's shoulder and looking at Julias. "That doesn't sound like you."

"No, it doesn't. It stuck with me for a while. I can still remember her begging for her life, when I finally got the upper hand. But, I could tell she was just looking to make me hesitate, find an opening to take advantage of. I... bashed her skull in, with a pipe."

The unfortunate truth about killing a Kindred: it was a messy, brutal affair. They had a nasty habit of surviving ordeals that would kill a kine a hundred times over, as long as their body was mostly intact, and the head was still attached. Jack had gone through such trials, and he'd seen first hand Antoinette being put through much worse, at Damien's hand. If Jen's first experience with the amount of punishment a Kindred could take, was bashing in another Kindred's skull until they were dust, a young Kindred's too, he could sympathize. That was a painful lesson to learn.

He smiled as he watched Triss. The girl was hugging Jen from behind in a protective manner, chin still on her shoulder, and the side of her jaw rubbing into Jen's neck. It was terribly cute, and Julias doubted Triss realized she was doing it.

The two of them looked to him again. Yeah, his turn. Secret number three.

"I hate the Begotten." Just tear it off, like a band-aid. A giant band-aid stitched into the skin.

"You do?" they said.

"Yeah. I can't shake it, I can't get rid of it, and Jack called me out on it. The Invictus are treating the Begotten more harshly than the Uratha, and not without just cause. But it's more than that, and the more I analyze it, the more I have to agree with Jack on this, that I'm being unfair. I really can't stand the Begotten."

Triss shook her head, pulling it back from Jen's a bit. "But... but you're Julias. Silver lining guy, right? Superman. You look for the good in everything."

"Sorry." He leaned back on the couch, and offered his best apologetic shrug. Hollow. Sighing, he ran his fingers back through his hair, and let the motion roll his head back until it rested against the back of the couch. He could stare at the ceiling, that was less painful than the look they were giving him. 'What, Julias, hating someone?' Yeah.

Still a long way's away from Viktor's capacity for hatred and malice, but the path was there, in front of him. He didn't like it.

"Why?" Triss said.

"Because they're the worst of what we paranormals have to offer. They're devoted to one thing and one thing only: their hunger. Azamel will destroy this city if she had to pick between it and her hunger. Much as everyone likes that Fiona girl, I'm sure she would, too. And Athalia, her inability to manage who she is, her hunger, led to this situation with Angela; a child abandoned by her mother, after exposing her to the darkest pits of horror this world has to offer." He forced his head back up straight, and made eye contact with the two women. "We struggle, and we struggle, to stay above our blood lust, and to be better than the mindless, hungry predators these hunters think we are. We're nothing but a plague of leeches to them, feeding on humans, and... and we're better than that. But no one will ever believe that with creatures like the Begotten showing just how bad paranormals can be."

It was their turn to sigh. The secret about killing a child was easier to let go; it wasn't his fault, it was a vampire's instinct to frenzy when starving. But the comparison to a monster was there in that frenzied action, and his hatred for the monsters made the hatred for himself, and his inability to stop himself from killing a child, poignant. He couldn't escape the self loathing, no matter how much he analyzed it, defined it, or intellectualized it. Such a horrible cliché.

What was the expression? Nothing's a cliché when it's happening to you.

"Superman is human after all." Triss let go of Jen, stepped around her, and sat down on his lap, legs to the side. "Well, vampire. You know what I mean."

"Thought you'd be upset with me," he said. "I know you're friends Fiona."

She shrugged, leaned in, and rested her forehead against the side of his neck. "You make good points, and I'm sure a lot of Kindred feel the same way. I don't, and I know Jack doesn't, but we've been seeing them from a different side. So I get it, but maybe you should talk to Jack about it? He'll be more upset than we. And maybe talk to Fiona too, so she can show you it's not all bad."

Nodding, Jen came over and sat down on the couch as well. "I wouldn't feel too guilty about that secret, if I were you. Legitimate concerns."

Well, color him surprised. It wasn't in his nature anymore, to be hateful, to hold grudges, or to discriminate. He forever strived to accept others for who and what they were. Kind of had to, to not drag himself down a path that led many Kindred to suicide. But, he just couldn't do that with the Begotten. As per usual, he was being over-dramatic, and turning his thoughts into comically sad compulsions.

Maybe Triss was right, and he should change the paintings he kept around the mansion. They were all dark, melancholy, somber, or otherwise depressing to most people. He thought they were peaceful or interesting; maybe he kept them around because they were familiar and comfortable to his psyche, instead.

"Three down, each," Triss said. "I think that's enough confessions for today." Shivering, she raised a leg, and gave Jen a kick in the shin, earning a yelp from the Ventrue. "This is your fault! You two stubborn fucking oxes have to make a god damn game out of... of private shit! You know this is the sort of stuff people slowly learn about each other through intimacy, not fucking poker?"

Jen and Julias shrugged, in unison. "Fair game."

"Yeah, uh huh, sure it was. Fuckers." Rolling her eyes, Triss set her forehead back to his neck, and sank against him. He reciprocated, setting his hands around her, one for the small of her back, while the other sat along her lap. "Jacob got into a fight with the werewolves, last night. Art and Matt."

"He did?" Shit, of all the trouble he needed growing in Dolareido, Jacob's tense truce with the werewolves was not something he wanted ruined. "How'd that go?"

"They lived, and walked away," Jen said. "Tash stopped them. It was very cute, and endearing, seeing that little girl hold off two Uratha. Transformed Uratha, I might add. Very... sexy."

Julias laughed, but he noticed the glint in Triss's eye. "You two got a thing for wolves?" he said, smiling.

Busted. The two girls looked at each other, and then away in random directions. Jen whistled, and Triss tried. The poor crocodile woman couldn't whistle worth a damn though, and Julias laughed again as he stroked the small of her back.

"I don't know about Beatrice," Jen said, "but, seeing how colossal those beasts are, and knowing some men are inside those giants of muscle and animal aggression? Arg, so tasty."

"I dunno." The Nos got up, and slid into the groove between Julias and Jen on the couch, so she was squished between them. "I mean, I looked, and I didn't see any place for a penis. Just fur, and a pelvis groove."

Julias choked on a laugh, and buried his face in his palm. "Maybe I should ask Jack to ask Avery if Uratha are capable of sex when transformed."

"Could always ask Natasha, too." Jen winked at him, and reached out for the Kindred between them. Triss chuckled, and leaned back, giving clear access for Jen to start feeling her body. Triss was in her usual tank top and jeans, so Jen had an easy time lifting up the shirt to expose Triss's breasts.