My Little Ventrue Pt. 07 Ch. 03

So, he pulled the pillow out from under her, let her flatten on the bed, and climbed over to lie beside her. "Fiiiiona." No response, eyes still closed, but breathing. "Fiiiiiona." He reached out for her, pushed her closer shoulder up, and rolled her onto her side, facing him.

Which, of course, put her breasts on display, one half flattening to the bed sheets with its size and weight, the other pressing down on its sister. For a split moment, it made him want cover her up, hide her nudity so that he couldn't see. And then he remembered that, not only did they just have sex, they'd been dating for a little while now, and had had sex a couple weeks ago, sort of. Plus, she'd sent him plenty of pictures of her topless, with full intent on showing off her bust. That meant, he could be more forward, especially since that seemed to be the thing she liked.

And, his stomach was full, flooding his body with energy. The womans' strange blood was empowering, intoxicating, and he could feel it clouding is thoughts. Not drunk, not high, but the waves of tingling energy blood sent through a Kindred's body, didn't normally hit like this. The Kiss was extremely pleasurable, and satisfying hunger was always enjoyable, but Fiona's blood made him want to explode with energy and desire. It made him want to grab her, hold her down, slide his cock into her wet, tight, dripping insides, and keep going.

Fiona was still awake, and sensitive, still trembling with orgasm aftershocks. If he fucked her again, now, she'd cum easier than paper took fire. And his growing erection loved that idea. So, he scooted down a little, got closer, and as he hugged her waist with one arm, he set his lips to one of her breasts. Some more mewls followed, and he smiled into the softness as—

As his phone rang.

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~~Jack~~

Damien had a bounce in his step, and that was weird. Damien didn't bounce. Damien stalked, sneaked, walked with quiet steps, and basically never bounced. Apparently Fiona was rubbing off on him. Or maybe...

"You slept with Fiona, didn't you? I can smell blood on you."

Damien froze, reached up with a gloved hand for his mouth, and ran a finger along his lips for a moment. Well, that reaction was telling.

"I did. Was it obvious?"

"You're radiating joy." And it was kind of irritating. Course, Jack didn't say that, but seeing his friend being so damn happy, when everyone else in Jack's world, including Jack, was miserable, was grating. He was happy for his friend, but circumstance made it difficult to not also be annoyed, and envious.

The two of them were underground, walking the tunnels to Azamel's path. Jack would have gone alone, now that he had the power of the curse at his disposal, but it would have annoyed his bosses to break the rules. And, much as he could feel the power coursing through him, the strange and wicked curse ready to unleash its visceral desires on whoever it felt deserved it, he wasn't a god. He almost felt like one, knowing what he could do if the situation demanded, but the elders of Dolareido never stuck their heads out for a good reason: even elders died quick, if you caught them off guard. He was no exception.

It annoyed him, that the elders refused to do things themselves. All that power, and they did nothing but hide in their towers or whatever, telling other Kindred what to do. It also annoyed him that, whenever he broke it down tactically, he couldn't disagree with them. Elders wanted to stay alive, and he couldn't blame them for that. Elders wanted to control their environment, and he couldn't blame them for that. The role of general was the best way to accomplish both those tasks, out of the fight while also controlling it.

One mistake was all it took for any vampire to die, no matter how old. Tony and Viktor were perfect examples of that, dying to something as innocent as a dry fire in an old factory.

That meant that, while he may have gained access to strength that rivaled an elder Kindred, he still had to be careful. And it wasn't like he didn't want to bring Damien, it was just that, a part of him wanted to brood, be angry, and mope. It was hard to do that with his friend vibrating on the happy frequency.

"I... I've been... dating her, for a while, I suppose you could say. We just didn't have time to get physical, except for that time with Vrall."

Ah yes, the oddly beautiful spider monster, Fiona's horror. Damien hadn't given him many details, but had given him enough hints for Jack to piece together what happened. Fucking a gorgeous-but-terrifying spider monster in her web, would have been not unlike the times Antoinette had sex with him, when she tied him up so he couldn't move. Except, Jack got to do those things in a nice, quiet, luxurious basement, with lots of soft things to lie on, usually. Sex in a spider web, in a sweltering jungle, in the black of the canopy, with corpses hanging from nearby trees? Eesh.

"Judging by what I'm seeing, I'm guessing your first night with normal redhead Fiona went well."

"Very." Damien nodded, smile beaming; at least, beaming by Damien standards.

Jack laughed, reached up, and stroked the breast feathers of Mulder. A caw from Scully drew his hand, and he scratched the back of her head a few times, as he continued walking.

"Jacob visited my apartment."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and he met my mother. Hell, part of me thinks that was half the reason he went there."

"And the other half?"

Jack groaned and looked down at the old tracks beneath his feet. "He wants me there, when Triss and him do... do something, I guess."

Damien mirrored his groan, shaking his head as he slipped his hands into his trench coat pockets. "That sounds like it could be messy. There's already been an unusual amount of disappearances in Devil's Corner. The police are likely going to get involved soon."

"Not like they'll catch Jacob in the act." And, now that Jack and Damien knew the weird sex statues in Devil's Corner were there because of Jacob, it was easy to put two and two together. "I wonder what other sort of hooks that man has in the city."

"Plenty, I'm sure, of all sorts," Damien said. "He's been here since the beginning. Getting leverage on Vicky and Parker is probably an afterthought to him."

That was the problem with dealing with elders. They played the long game. Jack, and even Damien, could unfortunately only appreciate actions that had consequences within the year, or decade at most. Jacob had undoubtedly made decisions like sewing seeds, or better, planting trees. Trees took forever to grow, and took centuries to truly grow into towering behemoths, but an elder like Jacob could plant dozens of them, knowing they'd eventually be useful to him.

Sighing, Jack shrugged, and winced as both Mulder and Scully cawed in annoyance at the sudden movement. "He is on our side, I guess," he said.

"Is he? I assumed Jacob was on his own side. No one else's."

"I don't know. There's more to Jacob than that. And besides, these disappearances are to fuel his efforts to find the hunters. I can't fault him for that."

Damien shook his head. "You mean, to fuel Beatrice's efforts. She's not a fledgling. If something goes wrong, she gets blamed. Or, considering the nature of her pursuits, if something goes wrong, she'll probably be the one to die in some Crúac ritual gone bad."

"Then I better do a good job helping her. I'm not letting her die, or get herself killed." It was the least he could do, considering his sire died helping him, leaving her alone and miserable. He felt responsible. Hell, he partly was.

That feeling of guilt was going to haunt him for the rest of his eternal life. Fucking lovely.

"Hey," Jack said. "Sorry for calling you in on this meeting, since you were—"

His friend waved a hand through the air, dismissing him. "This is important. Besides, Fiona's asleep now. It was a good... great night."

Jack smiled. Ashley and Julee always went to sleep after Jack or Antoinette had had their fun with them, draining them. And occasionally, they continued to do things to the two girls, while they were trapped in that post-Kiss bliss. Fiona likely had a great night.

It was more than just Jack needing a partner for this meeting, though. Damien came because a chat with Azamel and the other Begotten meant the conversation could swing to include the mysterious threat Azamel had warned them about. Damien was in on that, so was Fiona, and Jack wouldn't be surprised if the other nightmare monsters knew too.

The goal of the trip was simple. He had to get an update from Azamel, to see if she had anything to contribute about any of the ongoings. The Invictus and Azamel didn't get along, and it was in everyone's best interest that Jack try and head off any disagreements before they escalated. He also wanted to know if she had any updates about the mysterious threat, because Jack didn't, Damien didn't, and that was nerve wracking.

But, most importantly, he wanted to talk to them about the thing inside him, the thing whispering to him, asking him to kill and slaughter, with far more verbosity than his Beast had ever shown before.

It was always quiet, this deep in the tunnels. Vibrations from the city above, and the sounds they created, were well below what a human could hear, and his Kindred ears struggled to pick up on it. Lights flickered, forever unable to ever be fully maintained by repair crews. At this point, he assumed the nightmare monsters liked it that way, and were thwarting any Kindred attempts to repair the lights. It certainly made things creepier, deep down in the cold, dark depths of the Earth.

Damien looked around, and reached above his head behind the neck.

"You almost look like you could be the sheriff's childe, dressed like that," Jack said. And hey, it was true.

"I... noticed, that many people consider me in the same light as the sheriff. Perhaps, not with the same fear, but many consider me an assassin nonetheless." Damien shrugged, tapped the spot behind his neck, inside the large neck of his trench coat, and offered Jack a smaller smile. "I'd be a fool to not at least consider his approach to combat."

"He keeps the whole city under his thumb, I guess."

"That he does."

"I... I never did ask, about it."

"It? I—oh, the Purge. Right, because the sheriff... yeah."

Wincing, Jack looked ahead, one hand idly stroking the back of each crows' neck, while he did his best to keep a neutral expression. "People refer to it, talk about it, mention it, but I don't know much about it."

"It... it's a painful memory."

"Don't talk about it if you don't want to. But, you are one of the few who's seen the sheriff in action." And if there was one thing his second life had taught Jack, it was the value of information.

With a long sigh, Damien nodded as he put both his hands back into his coat pockets. "You saw him in action, didn't you? After... you know."

Right, after Jack forced Damien to kill his sire. What a lovely bonding experience for the two of them.

"Using Dominate like that left me completely drained. I barely remember a thing."

"I see. Daniel is... able to combine speed with the Cloak of Night, to degrees other Kindred can't. Fighting him is like fighting a ghost." The Mekhet shuddered, and rubbed his forearms through his coat. "The Prince rarely fought, when she enacted the Purge. Most of the damage was done by Garry, the Carthians at large, and... Daniel. The sheriff handled the bishops, most of them, and they could do little. Too fast, too difficult to catch, or even see."

Mekhet didn't have the brute strength of Nos or Daeva; that's why they liked swords. Speed and swords worked well together, and Jack did have a faint memory of the damage Daniel did to the remaining Kindred under Lucas's control, after Damien had cut off Lucas's head. The sheriff had slaughtered Lucas's crew like a scene from a fucking anime, dashing around, a blur of speed and Cloak of Night hiding him from even Kindred eyes, until he was too close to be stopped.

If that was the sort of person Damien wanted to emulate, at least in combat effectiveness, it was a tough goal to reach.

"And," Damien continued, "I was... thinking about asking the sheriff for training."

Pieces snapped into place, and Jack nodded as the image became clear. "Because, if Antoinette's sheriff is deeply involved with you, it'll make your rebirth of the Lancea et Sanctum go smoother."

"Two birds with one stone."

"Maria's idea?"

"Yes."

"She's too damn smart."

Damien chuckled. "She's... she's smart, but not the bastion of cold reason and burning wrath people think she is. She wants to cooperate with the Prince to get the Lancea et Sanctum up and running again, because she's a believer."

Maria was Jack's boss too, but Jack never got personal with her, or Michael. Right Hands in the Dolareido Invictus were the only ones to get personal with the council, and usually one on one, Right Hand to their designated council member. Jessy had her sire, Michael. Damien had Maria, two believers of Longinus. And Jack, had no one.

Jack grit his teeth, forced down the rising bile in his guts, and sighed. "Then I hope she's not the one Azamel warned us about."

"As do I. I'd... I'd hate to kill her."

That, was not the response Jack expected.

"Do you think you can?"

"If I catch her off guard. But again, I do not wish to harm her. She's taught me much, about music, economy, psychology. I have a hard time thinking she's willing to harm the city to revive Lucas, or for any other reason." The Mekhet slowed for a moment, eyes wandering down as his mind dug through his thoughts. "She's well aware Lucas was a menace, and his... aggressiveness had only grown worse after his torpor."

"I'm still worried. Love makes people do stupid things."

Sighing, Damien started walking again, but his eyes were elsewhere, probably drifting through memories of Maria. "Agreed."

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Stepping into the lair of monsters was always a frightening affair. It wasn't as scary anymore, now that Jack had the curse, but that didn't change the memories he had of Athalia and Azamel.

Perhaps more frightening, was the inevitable conversation he was going to have with Athalia. It was Jack's job to keep the peace between the groups in Dolareido, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to do that when he saw her. Losing his sister because of her daughter was bad enough, but losing his sire because of her as well, was absurd.

Would Athalia be afraid? Would she care? The only vampire she gave a shit about was the sheriff, and him, supposedly. Did she feel bad about what her daughter did?

He wasn't sure, but he knew how he'd respond if she treated his situation callously. He'd get angry, and he didn't know how that'd go. Maybe anger would trigger the curse, like it had in the past? Maybe he was like, the Hulk now, and he should have been in a monastery or something, somewhere where he could meditate and learn to control his anger.

He sighed, rubbed his head a few times, and stepped around the corner. Stop thinking about the curse. It only ever came out when his life was threatened. There was no reason to think the curse would jump out in a different circumstance. Right?

Athalia sat in a chair on the stage of concrete, not far from Azamel, who sat in her rocking chair as usual. Mark wasn't on the stage, but he was in the room, sitting in a corner by himself with a book in his hand. The room was quiet. They'd heard him coming.

The three monsters looked at Damien, then him, and their eyes went wide. Mark and Athalia both shot up to their feet, and their hands tightened into fists at their sides as they stared at him. Azamel, for all her usual calm demeanor and imposing presence, froze. She put her cigarette down, staring at him, eyes locked and looking at him from head to toe several times.

Damien raised a brow as he looked at him too. From what Jack had seen from other Kindred, since his curse thing awakened, they were able to tell he was different. They could tell his strength had grown, that his Beast and its presence had grown, but he'd never garnered a reaction like he was getting from the Begotten. The monsters were able to see other paranormals in a way Kindred couldn't understand. Whatever it was that made paranormals paranormal, there was no hiding it from the monsters of nightmares.

And the monsters of nightmares were looking at him like he'd just dropped a bomb at their front door.

"Jack," Azamel said, clearing her throat as best she could without breaking into a smoker's cough. "You... you are different."

These nightmare monsters see far too much. Don't trust them.

Jack winced, and snapped his head to the side.

I trust them more than I trust you.

Because you're an idiot. What I want is obvious. These monsters have desires so much bigger and disgusting.

Don't give me that shit. I remember what my Beast showed me, the memories of Susanna and the carnage she caused with you.

Because she wanted to. These monsters? They do similar because they have to. It's who they are. You remember what Azamel said, about the villages she controlled. You don't think she spun that story to make her sound a bit less horrible? You don't think she slaughtered innocents, hundreds of them, to feed the nightmare inside her?

Jack sighed, and looked to Damien. His friend was dating one of those monsters, and having the time of his second life. It wasn't like the whisper in Jack's ear was entirely wrong, but just as Azamel had probably twisted her story of her past to make her sound less horrible than she was, the curse in Jack's ear was probably doing the same thing. But, it wasn't like the Begotten were horrible. Fiona certainly wasn't. Was she? She'd been killing people as a part of how she hunted before she was told to control herself, and Damien said she had corpses hanging from trees in her jungle nightmare.

Don't throw stones in glass houses.

"I am different," he said. "I assume you've seen the news."

"I did," Athalia said. "I... I didn't know what to think. What happened to you, Jack?"

Jack stepped forward, and Athalia stepped back. The sight of fear in her eyes sent a thrill up his spine, but he didn't let it make him smile. He wanted to, though. A dark, evil, sinister smile would have gone a long way toward putting her on the defensive. It would have felt good to make her be afraid, to make her fear for her life from the Kindred who'd suffered such atrocities at her daughter's whim. But he wouldn't. That wouldn't help anyone.

Grinding his teeth into powder, Jack stopped walking, and glared. "I wanted to ask you."

"Me? Why? I don't—"

"Did you see anything... strange, about me, or Julias, or Viktor? I know you Begotten can see things we can't."

A glance to Mark showed the man didn't want to get involved in the conversation. Jack met his eyes, and the man recoiled a little, lowering his gaze back to his book. Another glance to Athalia showed the same thing. They didn't want to meet his eyes.

After a few seconds of silence, Athalia spoke up. "I'm not sure. I didn't see much of Viktor, but you and... Julias, you both seemed normal."

"Are you sure?"

Azamel started coughing, and everyone looked her way as they waited for her to rip her lungs to shreds.

"There has always been a subtle difference, young Kindred, in your bloodline," the old woman said. "I saw it as... chains, bits of metal lost in the shadows of your Beast."

Jack stepped toward the stage, and Athalia took another step back. But after a moment, she came up to stand beside Azamel, setting a hand on the monster's chair. She was shaking.

"You saw that my bloodline's Beast was different than others?" Jack said.