My Little Ventrue Pt. 06 Ch. 07

"There," it said, and an inky limb reached out and pointed to a building in the distance, down the road. "The red place."

Red wasn't the right word. Bricks. It was an old building, some sort of shop, with brick walls and a sign over a glass door. A convenience store, maybe. Sign said 'Danner's Stop' so, he bet convenience store.

"I go now... no follow? We traded?"

Eric shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, we're good."

It offered something like a smile, which was creepy as fuck. And it offered a giggle, childlike, and full of black bubbles that fell and popped when they reached the street. Jonah and Hella stepped out of its way, as if the spirit were contagious with the plague, but it didn't seem to care. It floated by them, and went back into the prison.

"Same sort of thing as Black Blood?" Jessy said.

He shrugged again, and started walking, sighing as they passed under a street light. "I guess? It was a weird spirit, and I know fuck all about spirits. So either all spirits are weird and I don't know any better, or it's really a fucking weird thing."

"Dolareido's a weird city," she added. "So, I mean, I guess it fits right in."

He laughed as he shrugged again. Maybe she was right, and what would be a weird spirit elsewhere, was normal for Dolareido.

"I really should pay Avery a visit," he said. "Just so I can learn a bit more about this sort of shit, what I can or can't do. I—" This late at night, this far in North Side, there shouldn't have been anyone around. But, of course, there was.

His group stopped, and watched as another group stepped around a building on the street corner, jeans and t-shirts and piercings on display. Didn't take a genius to spot a bunch of Carthians, but his nose told him anyway, a draft bringing with it the hint of ash. It was more than the smell, it was in the way they walked, steps confident but quiet, the way their eyes looked around with a little more focus, less blinking, the way they didn't look at each other directly as they walked so they could keep their vision available. Every motion they made was a siren, announcing they were predators.

"Joe," Jessy said.

"Jessy," Joe said. From the way the man carried himself, leaning forward a bit with lips raised in a snarl, Eric guessed he was a Gangrel. Behind him were two more vamps, but without any telltale hints about what they were. A woman with tan skin and long black hair, another woman, black, with short black hair, curly.

"Eric, that's Joe, Debby and Kathy."

Eric nodded, managing a small I-don't-really-care-but-I'll-play-nice shrug. He didn't want to deal with these vampires right now. Thankfully, they didn't set off any danger bells in his head, no more than the younger vamps he'd run into had. Dangerous, but not so dangerous he was worried for his life.

It was the other, the fourth, that had Eric's attention. This man was a werewolf, that much was obvious, and he looked like a young man. A white dude, short red hair, average height, with a fighter's build, like all the werewolves had. But, he didn't have the mass of Arturo or Matt, he had slimmer build, something agile.

Jessy growled. "The fuck you guys doing out here, Joe? And who's this wolf?"

"Doing the same fucking thing you're doing. And that's Caleb." The man shrugged, and nodded his head toward the prison. "Guess you took a peek. See anything?"

"Nothing."

Joe raised a brow, and looked across the street to the open gate. "Nothing eh?"

Caleb snorted, glared at Eric for a few seconds longer than appreciated, and started toward the prison. "I smell something."

Eric got between him and the path to the gate. "There was a spirit. It gave us some information, in exchange for being left alone."

"What kind?"

"Dunno," he lied. Seemed like the thing to do, based on Jessy's reaction to their presence.

"No, of course you don't. Why would you?" The man shoved him aside, and continued on. "Well, you promised. I didn't. I'll deal with it. Consider it a favor."

Eric reached out, and set a hand on the man's shoulder, stopping him. "Favor? It was harmless."

"No spirit is harmless." Caleb shrugged him off, turned around, and glared at him. Lip sneering, some teeth exposed, the man stared at him, growling.

Eric raised a brow, looked back at the others, and found only confused looks. Yeah, ok, no one got why this guy was being aggressive with Eric. Good to know.

"It seemed harmless."

"So do many spirits, you dumbass. A little water spirit is adorable, splashing around, giggling as it gets papers wet, or fills a glass to enjoy the shape. Give it time, and it becomes a spirit of the Great Storm of the Thousand Waves. It rolls over through the Shadow Realm, unleashing tsunamis and monsoons, crashing and destroying with glee, whatever allows it to bury more things in water. It crosses the Gauntlet and does the same, spreading the only thing it cares about: water. It could create a lake, and it won't care if has to sink a city to do it."

Eric gulped. Ok, yeah, that made sense. And if that thing was similar to Black Blood, it certainly made sense to stop it from becoming that. Except, what bad had Black Blood ever done? Fuck if he knew.

"Sounds pretty bad."

"Yeah, so I'm going to check it out. Now fuck off." And just like that, he was gone, walking into the prison.

Grimacing, Eric watched the man leave, before turning back to the crew. "Hope he doesn't hurt it."

"It was a floating blob of black ooze, Eric," Jonah said. "Why the concern."

"We made a deal with it." Shrugging, Eric resumed his walk toward the building it had originally pointed out. At least, until he realized Jessy wasn't following. She was eying Joe.

"Ok, you can follow your doggy, and run along now," she said.

"Fuck you, Jessy."

"Yeah, fuck you too, Joe."

Eric took a step back, and looked between the two Gangrels. That didn't sound like friendly banter, despite how often Jessy would say things like 'fuck you' in a playful way. The harshness in their tone was telltale to some real, seeded aggression. Good a time as any to stand beside Jessy, fold his arms across his chest, and glower. Like a bouncer.

"How about you leave?" Joe said.

"We were here first."

"You know that don't mean shit."

"Doesn't it?"

"Course not. Besides, you were going... here, was it?" Joe nodded toward the building they'd been heading toward. Lucky guess.

"Serious, Joe. Fuck off."

There was history in their exchange. It wasn't just flat anger, it was implied nuance, and unsaid details. They glared at each other with intensity, far more intensity than people without grudges or a nasty past glared. And nothing got people fighting like a grudge.

Debby and Kathy stood at Joe's sides. Far as Eric could tell, both were too young to be deadly but strong enough to be threats, strong enough to be a cause for concern, to warrant his attention. Joe, more so, but none of them made him want to run.

That was strange, wasn't it? He'd only been part of this paranormal nightlife for a month. He should be afraid of these vampires who had decades on him. He wasn't. Deep down, where the wolf inside growled and howled, it knew if push came to shove, it could tear these fuckers apart. As long as the vamps came at him head on, fought him straight on, he'd rip them to bits.

But vampires didn't do that. Vamps came at you sideways.

Joe came in closer, sneering, and got in Jessy's face. Part of Eric wanted to do the manly thing, step up, get between Jessy and Joe, and push him off. If Jessy was human, he'd do just that. She wasn't.

"Looking for a fight, Joe?"

"Looking to get you out of here."

"You know we're supposed to be working together on this?"

"Like the Valor bar, or the Martels?"

Jessy returned his sneer, and shoved him away. "Not our fault Carthians don't know how to be smart with money, or businesses, or contracts."

Eric winced. Invictus being dicks and using lawyer speak to be snakes and fuck over the Carthians sounded about right. But, it wasn't like the Carthians would be so bitter as to—

Joe punched Jessy. The hard thud of a fist colliding with a face, with bone, resonated with Eric. It was an old song, the thud of knuckles on skin, the deep thunk, like punching wood. Movies always got that wrong.

It was a hard enough punch to send Jessy back and onto her ass, rolling a little, and hitting her shoulder.

"Oh fuck! My suit!" She hopped up onto her feet, and snarled at the man. "You really want to take me on, Joe? Think you're strong enough to take on a Right Hand?"

"Just giving you what you deserve. Invictus have fucked us over too many times, and I'm sick of it. I'm not going to forget all the shit you've done to us just because hunters are here."

Jonah stepped up, but so did Joe's buds Debby and Kathy. Oh shit. Hella growled, and came in closer, but Kathy got in her way, as Debby did with Jonah.

"Guys, come on," Eric said, stepping in closer to try and get between Jonah and Debby. "We're hunting hunters, not arguing about covenant shit, right? Maybe—"

Debby swung for him. He'd had people take swings at him thousands of times, and he knew how to read the movement. The way the muscle of the shoulder moved, the twist of the hip, the anchoring of the foot, all obvious signs. What wasn't so obvious was the amount of speed that came out of the punch.

He fell the same way Jessy had, but the sound of getting your own face punched was much louder, especially when it made your brain bounce around in your skull.

"Shut up, wolf. You're a newcomer to all this, and you don't get to say shit."

"Oh hell no." Hella threw a punch back at Debby, but the woman ducked underneath it, and slammed her fist up into Hella's jaw, hard enough to send her up a foot into the air, and back a few feet to go with.

Recap time. Jessy had given him a basic rundown on the abilities vamps specialized in. Super fast, and strong? Probably a Daeva; or as Jessy put it, the true sluts of the vampire world.

Eric rubbed his jaw where she'd hit him. Blood on his fingers. He breathed in the smell of it, the iron, the life, and he licked it off his lip. Fact of biology was that girls didn't have the same muscle mass as guys, even when both trained similar routines, and that was especially true for upper body mass. Girls didn't punch very hard. Apparently, being Kindred changed all that, cause the punch she hit him with didn't give a shit about muscle mass, testosterone, or other normal factors in calculating force. Something inhuman, something beastly threw that punch.

He got up, and began to change. Not all the way, didn't need to go insane. Five forms to pick from, and he knew just the one to choose. The strange, alien words in his mind knew what to call it, too. He was currently in Hishu, and if he wanted to put someone in their place, become Dalu. Bigger, stronger. He grew a few inches in height, and grew almost a hundred pounds in muscle. Felt like fucking Mike Tyson. Felt like speed, and power, and aggression, and... and hunger, for a little payback.

"What the fu—"

He drove his fist into her face, same way she did him. A little part of him told him he shouldn't hit a girl, not like this, not with all the power and weight of his body. A much larger part reminded him she wasn't a girl, she was a vampire, and was fair game to have her face broken in.

He looked down at himself. His clothes were filled to bursting, like a good pump at the gym times a hundred. Hell, Jessy laughed and gave him a wink when she looked his way, and licked her lips, too. Of course she'd like it.

Her friend Kathy came for him next, and her speed was also a blur. But, instead of going for a punch, she reached behind her, and pulled out a knife.

"Whoa, whoa!" Jessy said. "The fuck do you—"

Eric stepped in, elbows in, arms up, and unleashed. Kathy wasn't expecting him to go on the offensive, which gave him every advantage. The knife didn't look silver, so he had nothing to worry about as long as she didn't stab him in the brain. Fearlessness, or stupidity, he anchored into a proper punch, and drove his knuckles into her face as well, straight on. Her own forward momentum helped drive her nose into his fist, and combined with the speed and weight of his punch, her head went back while her legs kept going. Clothesline. Her skull crunched against the concrete, bouncing twice, before the vampire unleashed a howl of pain.

Joe snarled, bared his fangs, and took a step toward him. But, the stupid man wasn't so stupid, and thought twice.

"Four on one. Not a fair fight," Joe said.

Jessy threw her hands up, growling. "It's not supposed to be a fight, Joe. Fuck off. We're looking for these hunters, same as you. Now beat it."

"Like I'd trust an Invictus to not use this as an opportunity to try and fuck over the Carthians."

"Of course we will! And you'll do the same. That's how it's always been!"

The two bickered and roared about their covenants, while Eric forced himself to breathe. The Dalu form was empowering, enthralling, and it pumped a myriad of hormones through his blood. He wanted to fight. He wanted to tear into someone. He wanted to sink his teeth into something that wriggled with life. Vampires had no life, but they sure as hell would wriggle if he bit into one. And—

He shook his head. Breathe. Calm down. His heart was pumping, each beat coursing an ocean of blood and desire through him. It wasn't the same madness that took him the first time he turned full werewolf, Gauru, but it was getting there.

"The fuck is going on out here?"

Everyone turned as Caleb emerged from the prison to join them.

"Find what you were looking for?" Hella said, rubbing her jaw.

"Only the trail. The spirit is gone, and I'm not going to chase it. No point, yet. I'll tell Avery and see from there." Caleb marched up to them, and looked down at Debby and Kathy as the two vampires got up, both of them snarling and rubbing their faces. Kathy's nose was broken, and—crack. She twisted it back into place, and the split skin healed over in moments. No blood. Vamps didn't bleed like living things did, he knew, but the fact she healed a broken nose that quickly was impressive. Then again, it may have only been surface level, a show, to look tough.

"We're just settling some old debts, Caleb," Debby said. "Invictus are a bunch of corporate scumbags, fucking over everyone and everything."

The other werewolf raised a brow, and looked at each of them in turn. "You serious? We're kind of busy, aren't we?"

Joe sighed and shook his head. "The hunter issue is a big deal, and we are working to deal with it, like Garry told you. But, we're concerned with more than the immediate." The stupid man shrugged, and stepped in closer. "Side-effect of being a vampire, always looking to the future. And the future? Terra Den is going to put Xnomina in its place."

This guy liked to talk, that much was obvious. Big mouth, obnoxious, rough sort. Every word out of his stupid mouth had Eric aching to cave it in.

"I don't give two shits about Xnomina," Caleb said. "But..." The man reached out, grabbed Eric's shoulder, and turned him around to face him. And, like Eric, the man adopted the in between form, causing his height to grow, his muscles to grow, and body hair too. A mirror image of testosterone, aggression, and a hint of fangs.

Caleb didn't go for the sloppy punch. No, this fucker ducked in quick, arms up and elbows in, and sank a right hook into Eric's face, hard enough he had to take a step back with the momentum.

"You," the fucker said, "made a deal with a spirit you know nothing about. Fucking with shit you know nothing about, just like Avery said you would." Again, the man came in quick, the speed of a trained boxer guiding him. The heft of his new body, combined with the pure, insane speed of his punch, forced Eric into the defensive. Arms up as well, he took the punch in the forearm, and the sickening thud preceded the pain, like an explosion and its shock wave.

Eric backed up, out of reach, and growled. Part of him wanted to apologize for stepping out of bounds, making deals with spirits. A much larger part of him wanted to beat this fucker into the ground for being such a colossal asshole.

"The fuck is going on over here?"

Everyone jerked their head again, as another voice added to the cluster fuck of stupid bullshit. Three more vampires came around the corner, out of the darkness and into the glow of a streetlight. A girl's voice, with two dudes beside her. Tattoos, jeans, piercings galore, every one of them had a bit of the poser attitude the grated on Eric. Except, maybe, they weren't posers. If what Jessy told him was true, and it likely was, Carthians really did live on the streets, embodying a punk rocker's dream of fighting the machine. For better, or worse.

They came in closer, smirks on their faces, and each punching a palm in a classic action movie sort of way. Ridiculous, but not so ridiculous, when backed up by strength.

"Carl," Jessy said, "you really want to do this now? I got to put you in the ground again?"

One of the men, a larger guy, white, bald head, enough muscle mass to make everyone step around him, offered Jessy a smile. "Garry's not here, and I'm itching to pay you back."

Ok, if this situation was any indicator, the Carthians really were universally stupid. And, right now, he didn't mind breaking a few stupid people's noses.

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~~Jack~~

People were giving him space. That was good. Part of him wanted to try and be sociable, maybe let a part of him be vulnerable, like other people supposedly did when they were grieving. He did it with Clara, when visiting his sister and mother; a little, anyway. Doing it more would be impossible. Christ, it was so draining just being around other people normally, let alone now that he was a walking, talking, ticking time bomb. Every word had to be carefully calculated, or he'd snap and piss someone off, burn a bridge, or worse.

So, he kept his eyes on the tunnel floor, and his hands in his pockets as he walked. Isabella and Clara were ahead of him, Athalia and Gloria were behind him. Keep the young one protected from all sides, he supposed. Whatever.

"I really have to wonder," Clara said, "if we're wasting our time in these tunnels. It's not like we've ever found the hunters down here."

"Everyone hides down here," Isabella said. "Azamel as well, their target."

The werewolf shrugged, and stopped, last step ending with weight and preparation for an argument. They all stopped to match it. Oh great, wonderful.

"And yet, they've never launched an attack against her."

Athalia shrugged, and took the opportunity to take a break, leaning against the concrete wall. "Because they know we'd slaughter them if they came at us head on."

"Is that it?" Clara said. "Because, these hunters seem pretty well equipped, more than enough to go head first into any confrontation. In fact, I'd wager they have enough information to launch a direct assault on her, but refuse to."

"What are you saying?" Athalia said.

"I'm saying, something is not what it seems. Jeremiah wants to kill Azamel, but if that was true, he'd have launched a direct attack. Something else is going on between them."

That was true. The hunters weren't being too smart about their maneuvers. Unless—

"Unless," he said, "they are blind. Could very well be they don't know where Azamel is. They were trying to get that info from me, right?"

Clara shook her head, frowning as she paced around. "They have a witch that can use some sort of weird occult magic to divine understanding by sacrificing people. And based on what she was going to do to Eric, she was going to do more than just... get a location. I'm sure they could find Azamel and go for her straight on, if they wanted."