My Little Ventrue Pt. 06 Ch. 15

When he opened his eyes, Daniel had unfolded his arms from his chest, and one looked ready to reach over his shoulder. He kept a sword back there, a very long sword, hidden inside the trench coat, and he was prepared to use it on him.

They didn't trust him. No, that wasn't true. They trusted him a lot, actually. They trusted him more than they should have, considering his behavior when Antoinette and Damien had found him. Seeing his mom had shattered its hold on him, like ice water to the face and spine. That was why Antoinette had brought her when waking him up, so he'd wake to her face. It was a good idea. It wasn't a good idea to trust Jack with talking to Sándor; but then, Daniel could kill him instantly if he started acting out, or at least stab him with a stake. Maybe.

If Jack was Antoinette, and a Kindred he knew had done what he did, summoned an army of crows, and had a personality shift, he'd have them locked up, hung them up, blindfolded them, and staked them, until he knew what was happening. Christ, the crows. That was a massive Masquerade violation, and it'd take a lot of media manipulation to pass that off as something natural or explainable. The Invictus were going to have his head for that.

He really hoped Scully and Mulder were fine. Would they even still trust him, after seeing what he did?

Daniel came forward, and walked past him before motioning for him to follow. He did, unable to look the man in the eyes. A flicker of the man's gaze said it all: Daniel was more than ready to kill him, and if anything, the man looked offended that Jack had put him in this position. Daniel cared about Antoinette above all, with the only exception being his childe. Jack was now an unknown factor, who spent every night in her bed. If he did anything to make Daniel think he was dangerous, the best he could hope for was a stake to the heart.

"Damien and Natasha are waiting for us, Jack."

"They are? I—oh, Mom?" He looked over his shoulder back at the two women. A moment of worry was on Antoinette's face, and he caught it; an arrow to the fucking heart, and not a nice, pink one in the shape of a heart. Antoinette was worried about him, very worried, and she was putting that conversation on hold so she could handle her new childe, and everything else. "Stay with Antoinette. She's your sire, and she'll be taking care of you."

"You're going?" She almost jumped out of her chair, until Jack motioned for her to sit.

"I sleep here basically every day, and spend a lot of my time here. I'll see you all the time, ok? I might leave the tower sometime tonight, but I'll explain the situation to my bosses, and I'll be back."

"Oh... ok... p-please, come back?"

And his heart shattered. The Beast inside him, demanding he be angry, growling and roaring and looking to unleash its hate toward Angela, went quiet. That strange voice in his head vanished. The sight of his mom's face, half panicked with the thought of losing the son she'd just got back, when the rest of her life was in ruin, buried the Beast and the rage it rode. Remember that face, Jack.

"I will. Don't worry." With a nod, he stepped out of the office, and joined Daniel in the elevator.

"Something happened to you," the sheriff said. Oh boy, a conversation with the sheriff, when no one else was around. This was bound to end well.

"Yeah. Something... did."

"You know what?"

"Kind of? It's... it's a blur. Trying to remember a dream." Sighing, he put both his hands against the elevator door, and felt the vibrations of its descent. "Something's inside me, and it isn't supposed to be there. It's... it's something, from the past, something that's been in my bloodline for centuries, I guess. Some... something... something fucked up." Something with a voice of its own.

Daniel stared at him, face as still and expressionless as stone, before he adjusted his glasses. "Does it mean us harm?"

"No. It means the hunters harm."

"I see." That seemed to alleviate Daniel's concern a bit. "Is this something you can control, or should we stake you?" Thank god Daniel didn't give two shits about being gentle with Jack. Antoinette might have wanted to avoid the hard questions, but the sheriff didn't hesitate.

"I can feel it, something underneath my skin, lurking, hungry."

"Sounds like the Beast all Kindred deal with."

"Yeah, except... except, now, it doesn't feel like some mindless animal, you know? Now it feels... feels like... like something else." Like something intelligent. Being hunted by an animal was a scary thing. Being hunted by an intelligent entity, on the other hand, was fucking terrifying. Made him feel like he was a helpless kine, in the middle of the woods, in the dark, being hunted by a monster that knew his name.

The elevator opened, and Damien and Natasha stood there, waiting. Damien took one glance at him, and sighed relief. Natasha, on the other hand, ran up to him, and hugged him.

"Jack!" She buried her face in his chest, and squeezed him. "Jack, oh god, I'm so sorry. I... I..."

He blinked down at the tiny woman. This was new, and he wasn't sure—

Jack, you're doing it again. A horrible death haunts you, and you close yourself off. Don't do that. Don't go backward.

Sighing, he closed his eyes, and hugged her back, before opening them again and looking to Damien. "Thanks, for helping the Prince."

"We ran into each other," he said, shrugging. "And you... you didn't need our help."

"Yes, I did." He shook his head, and pat Natasha's back a couple times. She was content to keep hugging him, which seemed very uncharacteristic of her, considering she was just as antisocial as he was. Then again, she'd changed, too. "If you guys hadn't shown up, I don't know if... if I'd... have snapped back."

Natasha lifted her head and blinked up at him. "What?"

Sighing again, Jack explained what he could to the three Mekhets. He left out the detail that he'd chosen to let this Beast out, that he decided to do it, and decided to let it off the leash. He also left out the detail that, apparently, it could whisper to him now. Everything else, he explained in as much detail as he could. The attack on the hospital, Julias's last stand, Jack's blurry dream, his cursed ancestor, and how Jack defeated the hunters.

"It's g-good you didn't kill Sándor," Natasha said, nodding and smiling as she stepped away from him, though he could see the weight behind it. Better to focus on their prisoner, than Julias's death, she probably thought. "We think he's b-b-being controlled, by Elen." She squirmed a bit when she looked at him, and her eyes fell. She knew about his rage issues, and when he returned her gaze, the glance was enough for her to realize the two issues were connected; likely connected.

Jack drew his head back. "Really? Controlled?"

"Mhmm. There's s-s-something carved into his back, b-by Elen. And... he's... he's like a zombie, when t-talking to her."

That definitely sounded like brainwash behavior. Daniel nodded, and began the walk down the stairs to the lower depths of the tower, where Antoinette kept her prisoners.

"Damien," Jack said. "Did—"

"I've already sent a message to Maria and Jessy. They know about the hunter attack, and... your sire's death." His eyes fell as he said it, but only for a moment. He knew better than to stew in the pain of it, or rather, to let Jack stew in it. "They also know you killed three hunters, and that you captured their Begotten enforcer. They... also know about the crows."

Jack winced. Masquerade violation, and a massive one. The fact he'd dealt the hunters a massive blow, and that he was the only Kindred who'd managed to do so ever, let alone thrice, meant he was valuable to the Invictus. That was probably the only thing that kept them from tying him to a rooftop and leaving him there for sunrise, for that degree of violation. It was the sort of violation that'd hit the media, and there'd be no other way to spin it than 'swarm of crows attack hospital'. It was the sort of media that went viral, and in this day and age, that meant within twenty-four hours of its occurrence, hunters around the world would read about it. Fuck, they'd get to see it on camera footage.

Damien told them, because it was bound to come out eventually anyway. Hell, the thralls probably reported it during the daily reports they prepped for dusk. Still, it was painful knowing his friend had told them, and not let him do it, no matter how justifiable it was.

"Mom's upstairs with Antoinette now. It's... it's pretty rough. She looks like she's ready to break down."

"B-But she was happy to see you, right?" Tash said.

"Yeah, overjoyed. But then I had to tell her about Mary, and that she's a vampire, and... it's a lot. I want to get back up there, be with her, help walk her through this."

"Trust in the Prince." Daniel guided the three of them down the hall, not bothering to look back as he spoke. "She can handle your mother's situation."

The hallway had a cell at the end of it, but unlike the cell they'd kept Jack in, no other cells lined the hallway. It was also a deeper level of the tower, one Jack had been discouraged from exploring. What sort of secrets did the dragons keep down here? What sort of strange experiments did they perform behind closed doors. Antoinette had made it clear in the past that, while she considered Dolareido her city, and enforced her policies, her role in the Ordo Dracul had nothing to do with it.

Other elders, Jack had learned from her, spent their wealth and power fighting to maintain power. They fought the other covenants, and they fought invaders, like hunters. Antoinette had created a different sort of city, a peaceful one, where she could pursue her dragon interests without having to devote her effort to wars or dictatorship. In retrospect, that was backfiring. No vamp in the city was prepared for this hunter threat, and even if they had been, these hunters were absurdly organized, skilled, and informed.

But the vampires would win. After what happened last night, Jack would make sure they'd win, even if he had to let out his inner monster. No way was he letting Angela, or Elen, or even Jeremiah get out of this city alive.

Yeah, that's what I like to hear. Find them, kill them. Have fun while you're doing it, too. Angela's a pretty thing, and I bet she'd scream and scream as we slowly rip out her entrails.

Jack grit his teeth, and ignored the voice; or tried to. He knew it wasn't him, and it was fucking sick and twisted. Ignore it.

Daniel pulled open the door. Like Jack's cell door, it was absurdly thick, capable of withstanding a nuke, or at least the punches of any paranormal. But once inside, the similarities ended.

Natasha and Jack gasped, Damien frowned, and Daniel stood as the statue he always was. The room, lit only by the hallway light, took a second to reveal its secrets, but Kindred eyes adjusted eventually. The walls were metal, the same sort of metal the door was made of, ceiling and floor included. Upon the floor was some sort of painting, or carving, or... engraving. Carved into the metal, was a circle, and a circle around that, and a circle around that. A seven-pointed star cut across the circle, and stars sat within their points, then symbols he didn't recognize, except that they looked mathematical. Patterns upon patterns.

The symbols and signs Elen used were less mathematical, and more blatant in their occult nature. Hearts, skulls, bones, things like that. Whatever the Prince had set up here, was very different. If there'd been a Fibonacci sequence on the floor, it'd have fit in perfectly.

Sándor knelt in the middle. Both his arms were out to his side, pulled out and raised higher than his shoulders. Metal cuffs wrapped his wrists, and chains connected the cuffs to high points on the walls, refusing to let his hands fall. His head hung forward, and a small pool of blood sat around his knees. A black bandage circled his head and covered his eyes. He was breathing, but it was easy to see each breath was labored.

Rage stirred inside Jack, and the voice came with it again, a whispering, dark voice in the back of his brain.

Rip his arm off, Jack. That'll make him talk. Better yet, you remember that book, 1984? Summon some rats, and have some fun. All sorts of interesting ways you can torture people with rats.

Jack shook his head again, and forced the voice down and out of his thoughts as best he could. He couldn't embrace it, couldn't let the rage well up anymore, couldn't feed the furnace. Not now, not yet. But later, when Angela was in his sights.

Daniel stepped around behind the man, and gestured to his back. "This symbol has been carved into his back, as Natasha described in her report."

"Report?" Jack said.

"I r-ran into Sándor, and Elen, and some hunters... not even an hour b-before... you..."

Wincing, Jack walked around behind the Begotten, and looked at his back. Sure enough, there was a symbol carved there, a circle with an upside-down pentagram, and various things cut into the corners, predictable things, like a realistic heart, and a skull. "Did they use some sort of portal?"

"Yeah! And, it... it took us int-to some sort of... flesh chamber."

A flesh chamber. Ok, that needed a little more explanation, but it could wait. Throw it in the 'Elen's crazy magic' category for now.

"That's what Angela did then. She opened a portal, using a sacrifice; killed one of our thralls to use her blood for the symbols. Sándor and Elen came out, and... that's what turned the tide," Jack said. Natasha's eyes went wide, but before she could say anything, Jack shook his head and raised a hand. "You know it's not your fault, Tash. No one knew how they were getting around."

She sighed but nodded. "We... we d-do, now. I have a report f-for... for the Invictus, to give you, or D-Damien, before you go."

Damien nodded, but his eyes were locked on the Begotten. "Is he awake?"

Daniel reached around the Begotten's face, and flicked him in the nose. As the man groaned, Tash squirmed, shifting her weight back and forth on her heels and toes. Yeah, flicking a man in his broken nose was a painful way to test if they were awake. A groan was all that it pulled from him though.

"He can't do some trick," Jack said, "and slip into a nightmare chamber from here?"

"No. This symbol creates a barrier between our world and the Shadow realm." Daniel came around, and squatted down in front of the Begotten. If he was awake, he was either refusing to talk, or Julias's last moments had been damaging enough to leave the monster borderline comatose; probably both. "We've discovered it causes interference for things that... attempt to cross realms, not just the Shadow realm. It should work on him."

That didn't sound terribly reliable, but since Sándor was still here, either it was good enough, or the Begotten couldn't escape in his current situation anyway. Fiona had said they couldn't simply go 'poof' and arrive in their nightmare chambers, certain prerequisites were required.

Jack squatted down beside the sheriff. A bit presumptuous of him, acting like he was going to be a part of this on even ground, like two detectives interrogating a suspect. But, Daniel had brought him. In fact, Daniel nodded to Jack, and waited. Considering the last thing Sándor got to experience was a swarm of crows killing his comrades, maybe Jack could strike a little fear into the fear monster.

"Sándor," Jack said. "We know you're awake. We know you can hear us."

The man continued to dangle, body wanting to fall but unable to with how his hands were out and strung up by the chains. If he was being controlled, and Tash seemed adamant that he was, then he wasn't a traitor. Hell, he was a victim, someone they should try and save.

"Damien, try cutting through the symbol on his back."

Without protest or hesitation, Damien walked behind the prisoner, drew his small sword, and deftly cut across Sándor's back. It earned another groan from the man, and a few shudders, but otherwise did nothing. Yeah, it figured. It'd have been great if that was all it took to break the spell holding the man, but then, it'd probably have broken easily in the past. However the symbol worked, it was more than skin deep.

Tash came around to stand beside Damien. Frowning, she leaned down and looked at the symbol carved between the prisoner's shoulder blades. "Elen said that she... she had to carve this m-m-multiple times. Said he healed from it t-too quickly."

Jack leaned in close, and gently pushed the man's head up by his forehead. His hair was buzzed short, like Jack's, and he had a build of lean, solid muscle, also like Jack. A lot of physical similarities, though Sándor was of average height, and probably had forty pounds of bone and solid muscle on Jack. It was hard to tell anything else about him without eye contact.

"Can I take off the bandage?"

Daniel adjusted his glasses, looked at him, then at the man in chains. "If I think the monster is going to escape somehow, I will cut off his head."

"How strong are the chains?"

"Neither Antoinette or Jacob would be able to break them."

Jack, Damien, and Natasha all whistled at the same time. Those were strong chains.

With a wince, Jack reached out, and undid the man's bandage, exposing his eyes. They were closed, and remained closed. Sighing, Jack pushed his head up by his forehead with one hand, and slid open one of his eyes with a thumb.

This fucker was the reason Julias was dead. If he hadn't had shown up randomly through a fucking Hell portal in a god damn wall, Julias would still be alive. It took every ounce of will Jack had, to not picture his sire on his knees, not picture the warm smile he had before a hunter shot him in the back of the fucking head at Angela's command. He frowned, squeezed his eyes shut, pushed the images down, and looked into the Begotten's eye.

"He's conscious," Jack said. "His horror won't let him die from these wounds. Though, from what I know, he won't be able to heal from them, not easily, until he gets back into his lair. I'm guessing he's not talking because of Tash's theory."

"What's the plan, then?" Damien said.

With a deep, useless breath, Jack put both hands on the man's face, holding his head up while also holding his eyelids up using his thumbs. A quiet growl rumbled in Jack's throat, as he forced the Begotten to look him in the eye, and he smashed his will into the man's mind.

Cold. Something ice cold stood between Jack and the creature's thoughts, like a gate of frozen metal. Touching it with his will sent pain back into Jack, the sort of shock pain jumping into ice cold water caused. And normally, that'd be enough to make Jack back off; who didn't scamper out of water when it was so cold, it made every nerve in your body feel like it was on fire? Tonight, it might as well have been a cool shower. He threw his will against it again, and again, and again, each slam hitting Jack in his guts, and sending more of that cold fire up his spine, but he didn't stop.

Something inside the Begotten growled from within his thoughts. In Jack's mind, in the connection he made with the nightmare incarnate, he could feel something stir beyond the icy gate, and it rumbled its frustration. It didn't like that Jack was trying to break through. Jack didn't care. He slammed his will against the gate again, and the monster beyond, hidden in the endless depths of mental chaos and undefinable darkness, snarled. But, through the bars, he could see — or feel — the horror awaiting him. A nightmare, a beast, a titanic gargoyle lurked beyond the gate, and it was ready to defend itself against anyone who managed to break through the strange barrier. Beating it, defeating this man's will, his very essence, would be difficult.