My Little Ventrue Pt. 06 Ch. 10

His phone rang.

He sat up with a jolt, and practically threw himself away from her. Landing on his ass, he stared at the small woman, her beautiful pale skin sweating a little, and her breasts heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Facing her lying body from side on, he stared at how her long, frizzy red hair sat upon the concrete, and how her heavy breasts pulled to the sides of her ribs with their natural weight. She was panting, and trembling, pleasure and exhaustion blatant on her face.

She turned her head enough to look at him, and he could see she struggled to keep her eyes open. Smiling. The beautiful creature was smiling.

He wasn't. He'd taken a lot of blood from her. A lot lot. He'd fed on plenty of kine, and he knew how much to take to leave them drained but alive; less than what he'd taken from her. She was alive, thank God, and she'd probably heal considering she was a Begotten. But that didn't change that he'd taken it too far.

He looked down at his body as his phone rang again. His erection pressed against his pants, and he grit his teeth as he glared at it.

"You... you ok, Fiona?"

"Mmhmmm," she said in a deep haze. "I... didnae think ye'd... be..." She shivered again, and tried to lift her hands to press them on her legs. Best she managed was a light touch before they collapsed at her side.

"I'm sorry, Fiona. I... took way too much, and... and..." He gulped and looked at his good hand. Her juices had coated his fingers and palm, and he could smell sexual need, hers and his own; though, hers were in far greater supply at that particular point. "I have to answer this."

She blinked at him, and tried to sit up again. Surprisingly, she managed, and she got her weight onto her elbows as she blinked at him. "Ye do?" Sitting up like that, it made her breasts half squash to her ribs, and half weigh down with their size. He stared at them for a second longer than intended, and shook the thoughts out of his head.

"Yeah, it's Maria. She wouldn't call unless it was important." He looked up and around. The signal must have been able to reach them from here, where the subway platform sat directly underneath the streets. "I... uh... here." He forced himself in closer to Fiona, did his best to not stare at her breasts and stomach, and leaned in. He hesitated, afraid to get in too close, before he pushed through it and offered her neck a couple licks. The puncture wounds healed over, and he got away from her with a jump and hop.

"Da... mien?" she said.

"I... I have to go." He reached into his pocket, did his best to adjust his erection, and pulled out his phone as he looked around. "Have... have to go. Can... c-can you, umm... do you need me to..."

Fiona groaned, and pulled her bra and shirt back down. For a second, he thought she might have been recovering quickly, but instead she fell back again, and let out some weak giggles. They didn't sound like her usual giggles though, almost as if they were annoyed.

"It's happening again."

"Again?" he said.

"Nevermind, dinnae worry about it. Go on, talk to yer boss."

"You'll... be fine?"

While still lying down, she reached down for her pants and did up her fly. "I can get home from the tunnels no problem. I need a change of pants, though."

"Um... I... y-yeah. I'll... yeah." He ran away. There was no other way to think about it. Not even fancy ways of dressing it up, like tactical retreat or strategic withdrawal, could hide how much of an asshole and coward he was in that moment. But, he had to. For reasons.

Once he was topside and on the Dolareido sidewalks, he answered the phone.

"Mister Burksen. You took your sweet time answering."

"S-Sorry, Madam Turio, I was preoccupied." He'd almost drained Fiona into a coma, or maybe even killed her. What happened? How had every bit of control he'd mastered in fifty years of his second life evaporated?

"I received a rather poor summary of the situation from Mister White, and I understand you are gravely injured."

He looked down at his bad hand. Now that the immediate high of Fiona, her blood, and her naked skin, was settling, the pain of broken bones and torn muscle returned. His hip hurt, his ankle was barely holding together in its web cast, and his busted hand was almost paralyzed with dysfunction. But he was in far better shape than he was before he Kissed Fiona.

"I'm... injured, yes. But Fiona was kind enough to let me feed from her, and I've managed to heal enough to function."

"You fed from a Begotten?"

"... yes." And it was great. It was amazing. It felt like he'd been drinking something naughty and wrong; not in the sinful sense or religious sense, but in some other way he couldn't put his finger on. Whatever it was about her blood, it was delicious, but overwhelming, and within moments of having it inside him, he'd become blood drunk.

"I understand that feeding from Uratha provides blood of most potent effect. Was the Begotten's blood similar?"

"I'm... I am not sure, Madam Turio. I believe it was." He squirmed, and forced his body to turn off the Blush of Life. It'd only been a minute since he fed, and he'd fed a lot. Turning off the Blush took time, and he used angles to keep his erection from public view.

Thoughts of Fiona's body didn't make it any easier. Her heavy breasts had been so soft, and her tiny stature and red hair were terribly appealing. He wanted to go back down into the locked subway platform, and finish what he'd started. The giggles she made, the way her breasts jiggled with her motions, the way she beamed at him, the way she'd invited his touch, it all seared desire into his soul. God, he wanted to go back down there, get inside her, feel her walls of flesh squeeze on—

"Mister Burksen?"

"Ah, uh... sorry, Madam Turio, I believe there was interference."

"I said, come meet me at the Grand Cathedral. I wish to discuss recent developments."

"About Begotten blood?"

"No, about your partner, Mister Terry."

"... oh."

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

He sighed as he stood at the entrance of the Grand Cathedral. Walking up its stairs, grandiose and imposing, did not strike him with fear; he'd been worried it might have. His sexual act with Fiona still sat in the front of his mind, getting in the way of every thought, every attempt he made to center himself and prepare mind, body, and soul, for the journey into God's building. It wasn't the sinful nature of the act that was bothering him, as God's laws were for kine, not the monsters that preyed upon them. It was how... debased he'd become in that moment. A mindless savage, concerned only with sex and sustenance. He—

His phone beeped with a message. He'd yet to step into Maria's den, so he'd yet to set it to airplane mode. Sighing, he checked it quick, and groaned as he realized it was Fiona.

~ Damien, you ran away! Big scaredy cat. Come find me when you can, so we can continue. ~

That pulled a smile from him. She was conscious, not comatose from the Kiss, despite that she should have been. He should have trusted that a Begotten would heal quickly, or at least quicker than kine. Even better was that she wasn't angry with him; at least not overtly so.

His smile turned into shock, as he looked at the picture she sent. With her shirt and bra pulled up, jacket on but open, she held her phone away from her in one hand in classic selfie position, while her other hand blatantly squeezed one of her breasts. The heavy shape of it, and how its teardrop weight was more ample along its underside, meant her nipple stuck outward naturally, as the soft mass filled her palm. Nipple between finger and thumb, she was pinching it lightly, as she smiled at the camera.

He gulped, and put the phone away. Fiona was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. She wasn't thin, but not fat or chubby either, just enough fat on her to give her skin a softness that demanded to be touched. Combined with her enormous breasts and curvy legs, he knew he'd be helpless to resist her the moment she decided to get flirtatious with him. He just, hadn't expected it to ever come, and especially not so aggressively.

This was Jessy's fault. Reminder to self: confront Jessy later. Confront her about what? That the beautiful woman he was drawn to was attempting to seduce him, likely because of Jessy's influence? Or that he was disturbed by his own sudden aggression. Fiona didn't seem to mind, but she didn't realize how close to death she'd come.

If he told Jack, he knew the boy would tell him to not play to a cliché, and not hold Fiona at bay in some self-defeating attempt to protect her from himself. In the moment, he could understand the cliché, but thinking about it, he could also tell it was simply him being afraid of the strange impulse Kissing her had brought.

He'd talk to her about it. Yes, talk to her. Just talk. No more Kissing, only, perhaps, some kissing.

Unless she wanted a Kiss again. And given how adventurous she was, she probably would.

He gulped and shook his head. How easily temptation defeated a hardened mind.

Sighing, he stepped forward, stopped, checked the picture of Fiona's breasts once again, licked his lips, and again put it away before he stepped into the church. Candles were lit, and, to Damien's surprise, Vivienne Maiorie sat in one of the pews, along with Amanda Pol. They were chatting, and as he came closer, he saw they had the Book of Longinus, the summarized version, with them.

"Miss Maiorie, Miss Pol," he said.

"Mister Burksen," they said in unison.

"I... was unaware you were interested in the teachings of Longinus, Miss Pol."

She shrugged, but nodded as she turned a page. "Just a little. Maiorie is the more interested one."

He offered Vivienne a smile. Vivienne Maiorie was Natasha's childe, and while the two had never managed to reconcile the gap that had grown between them, he could see the ex-Right Hand's influence on her. Vivienne would go far, given time to grow. The short time she'd spent with Lucas and the Lancea et Sanctum agreed.

"Madam Turio mentioned the Cathedral was open for those who wished to speak of the Testament of Longinus, and perhaps pursue an interest in the Lancea et Sanctum," Vivienne said.

He smiled at that. Maria had been making progress with the Prince then; or was doing this in secret. It was innocent enough, to simply talk about their religion and covenant. Hopefully the Prince would not mind.

"While I can't excuse the behavior of my sire," he said, "feel free to ask me questions about Longinus, whenever you wish. Except, perhaps, right now." Smiling, his old bishop reflexes returning, he nodded toward the dark end of the cathedral where the pipe organ sat, and around behind it, a wooden door. "Madam Turio wishes to speak to me." He nodded, and each offered a return nod, almost a bow, before they returned to their talk of Longinus. He wanted to join them, but he needed to speak with Maria.

He found the wooden door by the pipe organ, with the crucifix upon its face, and forced it open. It was thick enough that even the explosives the hunters seemed to have in spades would struggle to break it. Past it, a stairway awaited him, and he descended into the darkness.

The first few times he'd been down the stairway, he needed light, but he'd been through it enough times now that he could navigate it with only subtle, almost invisible dashes of ambient light that filled it. When he reached the tunnel though, there was plenty of light by Kindred standards, and he smiled as he admired the gigantic, concrete channel. Braziers hung on the walls of the massive tunnel, covered in spikes, and dangling from chains. They were lit, Maria no doubt having sent her ghouls to light them in preparation of his arrival.

Upon reaching a gate of thick metal bars covered in spikes, a ghoul on the other side opened it to let him in, before resealing the gate with some sort of electronic lock that kept a thick bar of some metal upon the gate's entrance. The second gate offered the same protection, and so did the third, each with a ghoul, and each ghoul wearing a suit that hid their body armor and guns.

Some Kindred wondered why the elders didn't handle the troubles Dolareido faced on their own, when they were often capable of doing so. The myriad of gates blocking his path explained why rather succinctly. Elders were paranoid, and justly so. Lucas had told him of the games elders played, forever looking for ways to kill each other so they could claim dominion of their chosen city. A single mistake, a single exposed flank, a single moment of complacency, and an elder was liable to perish to another, or to a courageous — or stupid — ancilla. Even in Dolareido, where the covenants, other than the Second Estate, lived in a more-or-less peaceful coexistence, the elders could not let their guard down. For all the Prince's power, Lucas had defeated her with a combination of speed and leverage, and the other elders could be defeated in the same manner.

Plus, they really did spend all night, every night, devouring mountains of information, and making decisions that managed complicated networks of thralls, money, subterfuge, deceit, and everything related. He did not envy them and their mastery of the Danse Macabre.

Once he was past the many gates, the enormous tunnel of concrete opened up into a massive room, a dome, with hanging drapes on the walls. The drapes showed imagery of history, swords and crusades, the Crucifixion, Longinus stabbing Jesus on the cross with a spear, and many other images of such moments. Braziers hung from chains in this room as well, candles within the braziers managed by her primary ghoul Matthias. Hunched back, mangled face, Damien could only assume he'd worked as a bell ringer in a cathedral for a twisted archdeacon in a previous life.

He walked to the back of the room, where a grand piano sat, with a coffin nearby, upright and ready to hold an old-fashioned vampire looking to sleep for the day. Maria sat at the piano, and was playing some classical music. He did not ask what it was. Maria knew how to play every piece of classical music he'd ever heard, and a hundred score more of pieces he hadn't. At a certain point, asking was pointless.

"Do your lessons go well, Mister Burksen?" she said.

"Lessons? I—oh, the piano. Yes, Madam Turio."

Nodding, she got up, and motioned for him to sit. He did, and began to play the piece she'd been asking him to play. Beethoven's Fur Elise was, compared to the works of Chopin Maria seemed to love, easy. But it was difficult for him, to command his fingers to dance in such a flowing rhythm, and he could not play it at full speed. Even harder, with his hand only partly repaired. He could play it though, and that earned a smile from his teacher.

"Good." With a nod, she took the seat back, apparently satisfied. "I wanted to ask of Mister Terry, and I believe you know why." Without skipping a beat, she started playing as she talked. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, third movement, a far faster and heftier piece than the more known first movement. She played it as easily as one might walk.

"His attitude, since his sister's death, and mother's assault."

"Indeed. You of all people know that Mister Terry is unusually strong for a Kindred his age. What does your Auspex see in him?"

That almost earned a twitch from him. If she ever learned it was Jack who killed Lucas, it would not end well for the boy. But, of course, Maria assumed he was using Auspex on his fellow Kindred to see if he could spy potential threats in their Beastly auras. He was, of course, doing just that, regularly.

"Mister Terry himself seems a devoted soul to the Invictus, and to his companions. He himself is also... painfully honest, with himself and others. I—"

"That is not what I asked, Burksen." Skipping the honorific meant she wasn't interested in dancing around the topic.

"If... when I evaluate him as a vampire, I do notice that there's an edge to him, something sharp and dangerous. Whatever it is, it is not on the surface, where I can see it." And, it no doubt played a role in the young man's ability to dominate Damien's mind, in that particular incident. He recognized the same edge in Julias, but the man never let it surface, whereas Jack had, multiple times.

Viktor had let that edge surface, but at the time, Damien had only ever looked at the man from a distance, from well behind Lucas, and he hadn't been old enough recognize the signs, or use Auspex to sense the true, animal deadliness in him.

"Indeed. And today, he did something he's never done."

Uh oh. "What was that?"

"He abandoned his mission, and left his sweeper team, in an apparent fit of frustration."

"He—" Damien stopped himself, and raised a brow. Jack was an analytical, cynical sort, but he didn't throw temper tantrums, especially not the sort that would interfere with work, and above all, work that affected others. "He is stressed."

"Do you know what Viktor Honors did when he was stressed, Burksen?" She didn't bother waiting for his response. "He indulged his baser desires, and killed, or destroyed, or tortured, or..." Sighing, she stopped playing, and frowned at him. "Keep an eye on him, Burksen. Honors never let MacDonald or I close enough to help him, and after his torpor, he kept even his childe Mire at a great distance."

"I fear Terry may do the same, as these hunters now seem determined to ruin his second life."

"Indeed. Watch him, Damien, and watch him closely. I trust you to do what is needed if the need ever arises."

That, was dangerously close to a kill order. Assassin, indeed.