My Little Ventrue Pt. 05 Ch. 20

~~Damien~~

Damien looked over at Amanda, and she smiled at him before offering a small wave. She seemed like a kind little creature, dark skin and long black hair. Damien did not care for her sire, Gloria Jenning, who had a far larger mouth for gossip than any Mekhet should have, but Amanda seemed alright. Perhaps a little ditzy, but then, after being around Fiona, ditzy didn't seem to bother him so much anymore. Ditzy people had the amazing ability to be happy and enjoy themselves. For people like him, Jack, and others that fit into the stereotypical vampire definition, they did not.

Case in point, Jack was standing outside a forbidden window, the two Mekhet behind him keeping him and them hidden in their cloak of night. His hand was on the window ledge, and his eyes were locked onto the two women within. His mother, and his sister.

While Amanda stood back some ten feet, Damien eventually walked forward, and stood by Jack's side, maybe a single foot back to stay out of the boy's peripheral vision. It'd be disrespectful, to interrupt what was clearly an important moment to him, but at the same time, it was important to Damien to stop him from letting this blatant ghost of his past devour him.

"They look... content," Damien said.

"Time heals all wounds, right?"

The boy didn't believe that. It was obvious in the bitter growl in his voice. But even if Jack didn't believe it, it was plain to see the two women sitting on the couch together were—oh, maybe not. The two women were looking at a picture album, and their looks of contentment faded as they turned the page. Only now did Damien notice they had tears all along, and their previous looks of contentment were from the memories the boy's family was walking through.

"Why are you watching this, Jack?"

"Glutton for punishment." He nodded his head back toward Amanda, before returning to his self torture. "Amanda's helped me out a few times, spying on them."

It must have been frustrating, to have to rely on others in such a circumstance. All Kindred could learn the cloak of night, though the Mekhet and Nosferatu knew it naturally and instinctively. A young Ventrue had no chance of using it, not to the extent that would allow the boy to spy on his family through their living room window. In Jack's case, it was probably for the best, lest this masochism destroy him.

"But why—"

"Your family still alive, Damien?"

"I... don't know. Lucas and his church became my family, and I didn't look back, even after the purge."

Jack nodded to his family, sitting on the couch in the living room. TV off, the two women had a blanket wrapped around the two of them, shoulder to shoulder.

"When Dad died, things were pretty rough for us. Mom never got over it. And Mary, she did all the things a more social person probably would. Drinking, sleeping around — way too young — and probably trying a lot of drugs. And I... became a cold, distant, critical asshole."

This was unexpected. Damien didn't know what to say to people most of the time, let alone during an emotionally heavy conversation; unless it were matters of the Lord and the Lancea et Sanctum. But then, maybe the boy didn't want a conversation, he just wanted someone to listen to him. Antoinette could listen, but perhaps the nature of their relationship made such a conversation difficult, or impossible. Julias? Maybe, but while sire and childe shared a connection, it was also a barrier, not dissimilar to parent and child.

So he said nothing, and waited.

"I never emotionally connected with Mom or Mary, not really. I was comfortable with them, though, and I did miss them a little when I moved out. Now? It's been slowly dawning on me, how much I fucked up, and missed out on something so damn important."

Damien raised a brow, and glanced Jack's way, before he focused his gaze on the two women. They wiped their tears, and flipped to another page in the album.

"I guess, with all the shit that's been coming my way lately, it's nice to remind myself I used to be a... a human being. A normal human being, who didn't spend his days figuring out how to kill people, and help monsters." The boy set his forehead to the glass, and sighed. A Kindred wouldn't leave any marks behind, no skin oil or particles, and the boy took advantage, weight dragging his head down an inch along the glass. "And reminding myself of my past only makes me feel like shit, because I wasted it."

It was clear there was more going on, and Jack was struggling to explain it. Something about Angela, and the rescue mission, had put the boy in a weird, analytical, depressed mood. Something was caught in his soul, and was struggling to make itself known. What that was, Damien couldn't guess. Jack had asked him for information about Viktor not long ago, was worrying about becoming Viktor, and it struck Damien as likely that Viktor was emotionally distant from his own family, as well.

The boy was struggling to reconcile his past and present. It was a unique thing, and Damien couldn't begin to understand the nuances of it. But, there was something the boy could do.

"... you can change that."

"What?" Jack lifted his head, and blinked at him.

"You can turn both of them into ghouls, or embrace them. Either way gives them endless life. The Prince has opened siring, hasn't she? Get permission from her, and bring your family into your new life."

Glass shattered, plain on Jack's face, and the boy turned back to look at his family with new eyes, wide eyes. Had he never considered that before? Evidently not.

"You think... she'd give me permission?"

"You've done a lot of things for the city, and have earned respect, and gratitude." Damien looked down, and then at his hand. Touch the kid's shoulder? No, no, too far. Leave such emotional contact for Antoinette or Julias. "I'm sure she'd give it."

"I... I don't think... I could handle seeing them as ghouls. Ghouls are so infatuated with vitae, and brainwashed to love their owner."

"What about Antoinette's ghouls. Do you take issue with how they think of Antoinette?"

"That's different. They weren't family to her."

Nodding, Damien looked back over at Amanda. The Mekhet had already stepped out of listening range; must have picked up on the social queues.

"Then you could embrace them."

"And ruin their lives?"

"... has your life been ruined?"

"I... I... I don't fucking know. It's been such a roller coaster, Damien. One minute, I'm having the best time of my life, with the best woman, swimming in money. Next minute, I'm handcuffed to a chair, getting tortured, and then I'm killing people. Next, I'm promoted to one of the most powerful positions in the city, and have massive freedoms. Next, I'm in a firefight, and people are getting torn up around me, and dying, and... and... and I hate myself."

"Hate yourself? Why?" That was a powerful statement, and one he figured the boy would have dismissed in the past as cliché. Of course, nothing was a cliché when it was happening to you.

"Because I didn't shoot that damn woman when I had the chance. Like a fucking idiot, I let Athalia make me hesitate. And... and the expression on Angela's face, it was like... like... like I'd be doing her a favor, shooting her. Christ I want to kill her, I want revenge, I want to rip that bitch in half and make her watch her guts fall out. And I let it slip away."

This was turning into a confession, and Damien had to wonder how a normal priest would handle this. The Lancea et Sanctum did not look for confessions from its Kindred. Kindred were to be God's monsters, and were already damned. Sins against God were irrelevant and immaterial to Kindred. All that mattered was that they served their role. Damien had, on occasion, offered advice to the congregation, been a minister, but it was nothing like this, like listening to a man pour his heart out.

And as Jack looked at his family, the conflict between his sorrowful memory, and his present hatred for Angela, was cut into his face with a serrated knife.

"I'm a god damn trope. I let her live, and—"

"Jack, only a Kindred with decades of unlife and hundreds of kills to their name, would have taken that shot without at least a moment's hesitation. Only a Kindred who no longer thinks about the family they once had." After gesturing to the window and the painful past, he reached out, and touched the boy's shoulder. He almost expected Jack to pull his shoulder away. He didn't. Maybe a little contact wouldn't be so bad, after all.

"If I was more of an asshole, she'd be dead, and we'd be better off."

"Perhaps. Or, Jeremiah would have realized his partner was dead, and killed us all, instead of monologuing like a fool." Nodding, Damien lowered his hand, and nodded back out toward the streets. "Come on, before this trip down memory lane ruins you."

With a nod and sigh, Jack came with him, and Amanda fell in step beside him opposite of Damien, as they began the trek back to the richer side of South Side.

"Julias used to tell me I was handling my transformation well, too well, and for a lot of Kindred, staring at the past like this led to... suicide."

Amanda reached out, and put a hand on Jack's shoulder. Either she decided to mimic Damien, or the girl's attitude leapt over that hurdle without any of Damien's hesitation.

"I don't see you doing that," she said.

"... me neither." Sighing, Jack slipped his hands into his pockets, and glanced over his shoulder, back at the family he left behind over a year ago. "But maybe I am playing with fire."

"Maybe. But, every vampire has to go through this stage, Gloria says." Shrugging like all the misery was nothing, she pat him on the shoulder again, before she nodded back to the house they left behind. "They look great, by the way."

"They do?"

"Mhmm. Your mom's looks like she's been hitting the gym, and taking Mary with her, from last I saw them."

Both boys raised an eyebrow at each other. It had never occurred to either of them to analyze the physical state of Jack's family.

"Maybe she's trying to move on?" Jack said.

Amanda nodded, and added a little bounce to her step. "You've been gone a long time. I bet she's getting over it, and finally moving on. Or, you know, trying."

To become nothing more than a cherished memory to your own family, while you are still alive. It was an alien concept to Damien, but Jack smiled, and nodded.

"I bet she is."

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~~Antoinette~~

Her love looked beyond depressed.

With a sigh, she set her chin on the boy's head, and hugged him from behind. The two of them were in her shower, the lavish one meant to emulate the feeling of showering in a waterfall. They had cleaned each other already, and she expected to find some sort of smile in the boy's actions. But, no, her love was morose, and perhaps a little silence and physical contact was what he needed.

"I nearly got everyone killed," he said at last.

"While they may have taken your words for guidance, everyone there was an acting individual; you were not the captain."

"Yeah... I guess..." Sighing, his head dropped, and she looked down at the boy in her arms as the water fell over his buzzed head. "What was I doing, giving orders? I was the youngest one there."

"You are talented, and a Ventrue. It is not unexpected."

"And... and I let Angela live."

"From what you tell me, you were going to shoot her, non?"

"Yeah, but I hesitated. Like a shitty movie, I hesitated and let the villain escape."

"Her mother was only several feet away, little Ventrue, begging you to spare her life. And you are far too young to be killing anyone without hesitation." Words that would fall flat, but they needed to be said, nonetheless. "You may be a Right Hand of the Invictus, and for good reason, but these are trials that anyone your age is expected to fail. And you did far better than others would, in your circumstance."

"I guess. But... but if Julias hadn't gone to Jacob, and gotten that... that thing's help, there's a good chance we'd all be dead."

How painful, for the boy to summarize her dilemma so succinctly. If she could not control this spirit entity, then if similar circumstances rose, what could she do?

She could tie the damn boy to her bed and keep him there for all eternity. That was always an option.

"And everyone will learn from that mistake. It was an error on the council's part, to send you and your crew. An error on everyone's part, to underestimate these hunters."

"I know. I know."

He knew, but he would not let the reality wipe away the emotions he was feeling. He was young, and such lack of control over his mind was an unfortunate circumstance of his age. It was also endearing, that the boy's soul still had such power over his mind, and she hugged the boy tighter to her as she kissed his head.

"Now that the hunters have proven far more prepared than we could have ever dreamed, I hope the Invictus, and others, will act with less haste, more discretion and prudence, from now on."

"Yeah, no more crazy runs into nightmares without proper precautions," he said.

"Mercy beaucoup." Nodding, she turned the boy around, lifted his chin, and kissed him. It was enough to earn a small smile from him, one she could feel on her lips, and she returned it as she lowered her hands down his back. The feel of his hard body against her breasts was delightful, and she closed her eyes as she hugged him a bit tighter.

Something was bothering the boy, more than his words suggested. Kindred his age often went through a phase of identify crisis, as their new life as a vampire took form, and started to break down the walls of old. She knew the boy had a habit of visiting his living family, and had done so recently; her network of thralls missed little. No doubt that was part of what bothered him, but she did not see the connection between the mission, and the boy's past.

But she would not pry. She was sure, with time, he would tell her more.

His own hands found her back, and her ass. With a little time, a longer kiss, the boy's hands started to caress her skin, massage the meat of her buttocks, and tickle up and down her spine. It earned another smile from her, and she lifted her head so she could show her joy to the small man in her arms. If he was able to feel aroused by her, then his misery was not permanent.

She nudged him into the wall of black marble, and got down on her knees. The sight of her beneath him, with her hands on his hips, was enough to break the boy's gloomy expression, and earn eyes of lust and desire.

"Blush for me," she said, as she blushed. Color came to her skin, and the joyful warmth of arousal tickled along her spine.

"I thought we were going to go hang with Tash and her two werewolves?" Despite his weak protest, the boy blushed, and his shaft lifted with life in front of her eyes. Delicious, how the hard thing stood out and up, his skin shaved smooth, and the muscle definition of his lower abdomen showed his inviting iliac furrow to great degree. Hopefully, Julias had instructed the boy, in how dangerous the Apollo's belt was; what woman could resist? She traced her fingers along its lines, from where it led from his hips, and down at a V ship toward his shaft and underneath it.

"We are. But, I will be wearing something quite... uncomfortable, and I fear it will lead to your wandering gaze." With a devil's smile, she gazed up at him with her red eyes, as she leaned in, and set her lips upon his cock. Immediate, quiet groans from the boy, enough to send her heart fluttering. The look of sheer, rapturous joy on the boy's face, as she slid his foreskin back, and gently encompassed his swollen glans with her lips, was euphoric.

"I doubt... you can... ever make that stop."

She smiled around his cock, and suckled upon the tip, as one of her hands took his testicles to massage, and the other took his shaft around the base to massage as well. The boy had mentioned in the past he found wet hair attractive, and she knew her hair was quite wet, soaked in the falling water, and flat to her head, neck, and back. To show off for him, to let him drink her beauty, as she gently milked his length, was too delicious a moment for her to ever pass up.

Time was of the essence. The plan was for a shower, and then to relax at her pool, perhaps swim. Natasha and her boyfriends were coming as well, and she was curious to see how they would react to the sight of the Prince, and Natasha as well, in swim wear. If she guessed right, flaunting her body would lead to Natasha being ravaged by two aroused beasts, and Antoinette could not pass on the opportunity to give her Tash a delicious night, whether she wanted it or not. She had earned it.

Jack did not last long. Of course he did not, she did not wish for him to, as she set her goal to make him climax as quickly as possible. He reached down, and set his hands on her head, as she circled his swollen glans with her tongue. Her expert, tight, and consistent working hand on his length, would have any man cumming in minutes. But before he did, she pulled her head back, knelt higher, and guided his cock onto her breast. She lowered the hand around his testicles, and instead used it to cup her own left breast, so she could more easily press his swollen glans onto her nipple.

The poor boy set his hands on her shoulders, and shivered, struggling to stay standing, as she caressed her engorged areola with his hot glans around, and around, and around, until the first gush of his cum splashed over her breast. Jack's moans broke through his attempts to quiet them, and she smiled at him before looking back down at his shaft, as she guided it around her nipple. The hot cream flowed up and around her breast, coating it in his cum as another gush squirted up to meet it. She kept out of the falling water for now, purely to let the boy enjoy seeing the sight of her bust covered in his cum. And, with the large amount of ejaculate the boy's adapting Kindred body was happy to produce in so little time, it was quite easy to soak her breast in white, until heavy drops of the thick liquid trickled down the underside of her breast, and dripped onto the shower floor.

She leaned down to kiss his glans, licked away the final drop of his cum, and smiled up at him as she began to massage his cum into her breasts. It was hot, and thick, and felt delightful on the skin. But that was not the reason she put on such a display. It was to see the boy's entranced gaze, that she took the time to spread the thick fluid over her breasts, under them, between them, and massage the white into her skin. With both hands, she cupped the undersides of her heavy bosom, and worked her fingers around her nipples, earning little sparks of pleasure into her core, as she caressed the engorged nubs.

She continued her devilish smile, well practiced and mastered, and stood. Hot water washed away his seed, and once she had cleaned the white fluid from her fingers, she ran them back through her hair as she lifted her elbows. Raised elbows tugged at her breasts, and caused them to jiggle lightly as she soaked them in the downpour of hot water. A dance she had perfected long ago, and she sighed bliss as she felt her insides warm with how her love gawked at her, paralyzed.

"If we had time," she said, "I would take you to the bed, where you could return the favor. But, I look forward to time with Natasha. Come, let us be off." She ended the blush of life, and walked back to the bedroom, her hand behind her, and Jack's hand in hers.

Holding hands. How naughty.

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~~Natasha~~

The three of them each sat on a pool lounge chair, and sighed happy sighs, together. They were in the Prince's tower, and had decided to take the night to do absolutely nothing but relax. Pools were relaxing, and Antoinette had a giant pool with a hot tub and everything. Perfect place to relax where it was safe. Tash and the boys didn't bother with swimming though; instead, they were happy to just lounge around. Swimming took effort. Lying around took none.