My Little Ventrue Pt. 07 Ch. 09

"It was more like, ten thousand, but—"

"And that you defeated a couple dozen hunters in that hospital."

"It was, like, six, and—"

"The point is, Jack, that everyone thinks you're here as an enforcer, that the wonder kid with the big bad curse is here to bully me." Sighing, Garry leaned back in his chair and hooked his hands behind his head. "That's not good for business."

Jack ground his teeth until his jaws hurt. Good for business was a nice way of putting 'not good for his image', a very Invictus way of putting it. Calling Garry out on it would have guaranteed an argument, but that wasn't his reason for being here. He had a job, to keep the peace between the paranormals, and at least attempt to do so with the covenants in a capacity Primogen meetings couldn't.

"I'm not here to push you into anything, Tones. This is a mission of peace."

Apparently, he'd said something funny. The two guys playing video games stopped, paused the game, and looked at him with a raised brow. The woman stopped reading her book. Garry himself raised a brow, like he didn't believe a word he was hearing. God damn it.

"It's a good thing I trust Antoinette, at least a little," Garry said, "or I'd call bullshit on this curse thing."

Jack saw where this was going, and he didn't like it. "I'm not going to prove to you the curse is real. I'm sure you can feel it."

"I'm not sure what I feel, kid, but I don't make grand decisions without knowing exactly what's going on."

"Nothing's going on." Tempted, so damn tempted to start yelling. "This thing with me, the curse, it has nothing to do with why we're here. I'm here because it's my job to play liaison. Damien's here because he wanted to meet you face to face, and show that he's sincere."

"And I am sincere," Damien said. "I'm not your enemy, Garry. All I want to do is teach the word of Longinus to those who wish to learn."

"Pfft." Garry got out of the chair, stepped around his desk, and sat against its front edge as he folded his arms across his chest. Defensive stance. "You stormed the Prince's precious tower, and tried to kill her. You expect me to believe you're just going to sit around and play preacher, boy?"

"It was mistake, and one I'm glad to have survived."

Jack glared at Garry, but kept his mouth shut. The underground tunnel, the fortress Tony had built, had had a strange power to it supposedly, sucking people in and bending their minds to the will of the group and leader. He wasn't sure if he believed that, but it wasn't like it was impossible. Tony had swayed a lot of Kindred to his weird, pointless cause, and after his death, his Kindred had dispersed, left Dolareido, or joined the other covenants. Lucas had taken over the underground fortress, and history repeated itself, with Kindred flocking to him.

Now that Jack knew a thing or two about spirits, he had to wonder if they had a hand in that. Maybe the fortress had been affected by spirits, and that was why it had a strange power. It made sense, considering the brothels in Devil's Corner worked the same way. Either way, it was rubble now, destroyed, and no longer exerting its influence on anyone.

"That doesn't mean jack shit, Damien. My concern is that you're a dangerous asshole who's willing to kill to spread his religious bullshit. Don't forget, you entitled little fucker, that I dealt with Lucas for years before you were embraced. I watched that fucker twist words, bend rules, break minds, and spread his cancerous garbage through the city. It was decades in the works, with me bitching and whining about it every Primogen meeting. I was ignored, until it got so bad that Lucas outright started fighting. Finally, the Prince and I went to war against him, and your fucking sire killed without discretion. He fucking killed the Prince's ghouls, a couple of young, innocent girls. And this psychopath, this deranged lunatic, picked you as a childe. So how about you give me one fucking reason I should ever, ever, trust a damn thing you have to say."

Before Damien could say a thing, Jack stepped up to Garry, and got close. Very close. In a second, only two feet separated him from the dangerous asshole, close enough Garry slid off the desk and brought his arms up, ready to fight. The three ancilla in the room got up, and Damien reached behind his neck, ready to draw his longsword.

"Did you like Viktor, Garry?" Jack said.

"What? Don't fuck with me, kid. I'll—"

"Did you like Viktor? Did you like that asshole basically running the Invictus?"

"Course I didn't like that mother fucker. He—"

"Viktor sired Julias, my sire. And Julias was the best of us. My sire did more for covenant relations than anyone, and you know he was a good man. Don't judge a childe by the sire." In the corner of his eyes, Jack could see the three ancilla, dressed in jeans and t-shirts, ready to jump him. Two Gangrels and a Mekhet. They probably had knives hidden in their pants, and other weapons hidden in the room.

It didn't matter. If it came to it, he was confident he could handle them, or that Damien could. They may have been a bit older than Damien, but his friend was a skilled Kindred, very skilled, and Jack trusted him to watch his back.

Unfortunately, even if Jack was strong enough to take on Garry, and Damien could hold off three ancilla, that didn't change that they were in the heart of Carthian territory, surrounded by Carthians, and any fight that broke out was bound to summon more people.

Garry glared at him, but lowered his hands after a few painful moments of silence. "Fine. You make a good point." Once Jack backed off, Garry turned his sights to Damien. "I'll be watching you. Get me? Do anything even remotely out of line, and I'll put your ashes on Maria's doorstep. The Prince won't interfere over me killing a fucking bishop, and you know it."

Sighing, Jack stepped away, and looked at Damien. The Mekhet visibly relaxed, arms lowering, but his eyes stabbed at Garry like he was trying to kill him.

"Understood," Damien said.

And they left. Jack nodded, Damien nodded, and the two of them left the room. Jack didn't want to entertain Garry's threat with a response; doing so with anything less than violence would be an admittance of weakness. So they left, glancing at the ready-to-fight Carthians, who were staring at them like Jack and Damien were going to attack them first. Wow, they were wound up tight.

All things considered, that went worse than Jack figured it would. He'd underestimated how aggressive the Carthians had become in the past couple years, and how comfortable Garry was becoming making his desires known. With the death of Viktor and Tony, there was little reason for Garry to not become more aggressive, if he had plans to expand the Carthians and their control.

The moment the hunters were dealt with, the Carthians were going to become a problem. Fucking lovely.

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~~Eric~~

A knock at his door summoned him from his nap. Where was he? Couch. Time? 8:00PM. The sun had just set. He was still having some trouble getting used to working at night, and now that he was involved with the vampires, sleeping during any hour of the night was a thing of the past.

The rattling of keys announced who it was. Jessy walked in, dressed in her Invictus suit, complete with a tie, a hard contrast to him wearing only his boxers.

"Jessy, glad to see you're making yourself comf—"

"You know, I think I'm in the mood for some normal sex. Don't feel like getting stuffed like a turkey right now." Without ceremony, she threw off her suit, as if she'd had a long day at the office, gave Kat a kiss on the head, and dragged him off to the washroom. With each step, she kicked off more clothes, tossing pants and socks, then underwear and bra, all over the hallway floor. Far be it from him to stop her, considering how her large, toned ass bounced a bit as she half walked, half hopped toward the washroom.

Eric choked on his laugh as he turned on the water of his shower. "It must hurt, doesn't it?"

"What, having sex when you're transformed?" Jessy shrugged, stepped under the hot water, and sighed bliss. "Dude, we talked about this. Those parts can stretch, a lot."

"Still, it—"

"It's fucking awesome when I'm struggling to handle it. Fuck me, I love the god damn feeling of... like... I'm about to burst, from how much I'm filled up." Shrugging, she reached for the lube hooked on the wall of his bathroom, and Blushed Life. It was easy to see, with how her pale skin darkened slightly, and suddenly he could smell the odors of a living person, not ash. "I know not every girl does, but let me tell you, a lot of us want to feel overwhelmed with how much is fitting inside."

"But not right now?"

"Not right now. Right now, I want my boyfriend to come into the shower with me, hug me, kiss me, and have tender sex with me under the hot water." As she said it, she faced him, smiled a flirty, silly smile he wasn't used to seeing on her, and started masturbating. She used full hand strokes, burying her clitoris and her folds in exploring fingers, far rougher than most woman would want straight off the bat.

As confusing as her proposition was to him, it was more than enough to get his blood running. Plus, watching the fit, curvy woman start to masturbate under the hot water of his shower, would be enough to get anyone's blood pumping down between the legs.

"So you come over, and at the drop of a hat, you want romantic sex?"

She frowned at that, and tapped her chin several times. "What if I make it anal?"

Rolling his eyes, he kicked off his boxers, and joined her in the no-wall shower. With two of them under the spray, the hot water went everywhere, splashing over the expensive tile floor of his enormous bathroom before draining away.

"I think we can just keep it vanilla, if you want romantic."

"Aw, vanilla." Laughing at her own 'that's so cute' noise, she squirted a load of the water-resistant lubricant into her palm, and started to masturbate with it, rubbing it into her clitoris and insides alike. "Ok, vanilla it is. So, we go into typical missionary position, we're not allowed to touch my clit, the angle sucks for hitting anything good, and I don't get to cum?"

"Pretty much."

More laughter. "Deal, but after, I get a drink of you."

"Deal, but only if you don't take too much. I was planning to visit my father later. Late visiting hours today."

"Oh? Sounds interesting. I'll be there." Nodding, as if joining him on the trip was obvious, she reached down and started to rub the lubricant along his hard length with one hand, while still masturbating with the other. She did this for a while, mostly touching herself, with him as an afterthought, as she warmed up her body.

Of course, an attempt at vanilla sex lasted maybe ten seconds before Jessy got bored, and demanded standing doggy, complete with hands on shoulders, and a rather rough pounding. Maybe some night they'd have tender vanilla sex, but it wasn't tonight.

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Being Kissed was always an exhilarating experience, and he couldn't blame kine for flocking to Bloodlust and wherever else, to enjoy its secret pleasures. He'd cum once, before Jessy kissed him, and that had immediately led to a second orgasm for him, the sort that make men see stars. Following that, a nap, because even a small drink of him had left him tired.

Jessy may not have wanted to cuddle during sex, but she enjoyed it after. She climbed into bed with him, got in close as the big spoon, and woke him up thirty minutes later. A good power nap followed by a quality meal, and his energy started to return. The joys of his Uratha body, near limitless endurance.

Then it was off to the hospital.

"So, they pretend like that event with the crows didn't happen?" he said.

Jessy shrugged as the two of them walked through the hospital parking lot. "The crow incident is still in the news, but the Invictus and the Prince did a decent job of spinning it as an unusual phenomenon. Bird flocking, sorta? There's some crazy shit out there in the world, animals doing weird things like flocking together in strange ways. I guess they did a spin on that."

"Scared the shit outta Dad. He won't say it, but he was trapped in his room, when all that was going down, scared stiff. And you know how old people get when they're scared."

"Angry, loud, and stupid? I don't think old people have a monopoly on that behavior."

"True enough. But I'd bet good money they take it to an extreme others don't, and the only reason they don't start a stupid revolution or civil war, is because they're too old to do so."

Jessy laughed, but it didn't have the same bounce it usually did. "You don't like your father, do you?"

"I... love him. He's my dad."

"You don't have to like the people you love, you know, at least not when it's family. If your dad's an asshat, then he's an asshat."

He stopped outside the sliding glass doors of the front of the hospital. It wasn't the sort of conversation to have in the lobby, where people could hear the rather depressing topic. The conversation would probably mirror the thoughts of a lot of people in the building, though. The hospital was a stressful place, stressful as fuck, and people who loved each other could tear each other's head off, when one of them grew resentful that they were dying, while the other lived.

"Yeah, he's an asshat, but I think he did a decent job raising me. Didn't he?"

"I think so, yeah." Nodding, she hooked her arm with his, and together, they walked into the hospital, and followed the colored line on the floor.

A couple minutes later, they knocked on his dad's door, and after rather annoyed 'what?' from inside, they came in.

"Hey Dad. This is my girlfriend, Jessy Herrington." Eric knew his dad had seen Jessy before, but no reason to not repeat the name, reintroduce with Jessy's new title as girlfriend, and see where the conversation went. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted to let his father know about his romance life, but Jessy seemed to think it was a good idea.

"Uh huh." His father eyed him closely, and then looked at Jessy. "... how do ya know my son?" Oh thank god, for a second Eric thought he was going to ask her why she wasn't black.

"I work for Xnomina, and Bloodlust is just one of the clubs we own in this city." Jessy sat down in a chair, folded her legs, and smiled at the old man in the hospital bed. "One of my agents recognized your son from his career, and gave him the job you're familiar with."

"That knee not troubling you no more?" his dad said, looking to Eric. Eric was already sitting down, wearing his casual suit he normally wore at Bloodlust. Jessy was dressed in a similar suit, no tie anymore, and pants. If she'd been wearing a skirt, his father probably would have liked it more.

"It still hurts," he lied. "But I don't need to do any running at my new job, just stand around, and sit if my knee starts bothering me."

"That's good. Don't screw up this job now, or let this lady go; if she's your boss, you know the position that puts you in."

Jessy laughed, despite the implication, and leaned forward, putting her elbows to her knees. "Don't be an asshole, Mister Tanverson, I've been handling businesses and moving around millions in personnel and equity, for a decade. I'm not stupid enough to fire someone just because they stop sleeping with me."

Eric grinned. She'd been doing it for a hell of a lot longer than a decade.

"Alright lady, alright." His dad also grinned at her. "I like a woman who knows a thing or two."

"I know more than that." Jessy leaned back in her chair again, and pat Eric on the shoulder. "Your son's a dumbass, Mister Tanverson. He told me about Sheryl, and any moron could have seen the signs. But don't worry, I like this dumbass, and I'll keep him from being too dumb for his own good."

"Ha! That he is." And for the first time Eric could remember since the man had entered the hospital, his dad turned off the muted television with a smile, not a frown. "Thank you Jessy. I can't do shit for my idiot son trapped in this bed."

"Trapped?" Jessy leaned forward, and slapped his dad on the leg, hard enough to make the man do his ow-this-hurts laugh. "You'll be feeling fine eventually, I'm sure. And I ain't gonna preach, but I can tell by looking at you that if you got your dumb old ass into shape, you'd look sexy as fuck, like your son here."

Eric blinked, several times, as he slowly turned his gaze from his dad to Jessy. She was treading some dangerously thin ice, ice Eric had fallen through before. One wrong word and she'd send the man into a one of his angry fits, which for his dad, was always expressed as closing himself off after a nasty argument. It was the problem with his dad, that Eric couldn't have a hard conversation with him, since he'd just block Eric out.

But he didn't block Jessy out. His dad chuckled again, and smiled at the woman.

"You think so, do ya?"

"I do. Hell, get healthy enough to get out of this bed, and I'll show you my tits."

Before Eric could say anything, and he definitely wanted to say something, his dad burst out laughing.

"Alright pretty lady, deal."

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"So you're... gonna show my dad your tits."

"Yeap." She winked at him as they walked down the hospital hallway.

"And you think that'll work?"

"Probably. Different people get motivated by different things. Your dad seemed like the sort you can melt with booze or sex. No booze in a hospital, so, a little nudity should do the trick."

"Uh huh..." Well, if it worked, and his dad started taking care of himself, he would be adding another ten or twenty years onto his lifespan. That, as much as Eric tried to deny it, was something he wanted to happen. He'd be sad once the old man was dead.

"So, were you gonna do it tonight?" she said

"Do what?"

Laughing, she slipped a hand around him, hugging his waist as they walked out of the hospital. "Visit the Shadow place."

"Oh, right. Um, I don't know. I kinda feel like I should, right? Use this gift I've got to give something back to the places I grew up." He was almost tempted to ask her to just waste more Xnomina money on those goals, but that was crossing a line. At a certain point, it was time to stop asking for handouts, and do something himself.

Look at him, pulling out of a pit of depression like he had a rocket on his back. No longer did he want to spend his time alone, miserable, bitching about life. He had a girlfriend who was awesome, and money, and a place to live, and a future. The werewolf thing was a mixed bag, but it gave him tools, tools he could use to give something back to the streets he grew up from.

Heh, like a crap movie, kid from the street comes back to save his shitty neighborhood. No, it wouldn't be like that. No inspirational music would play when he walked into an old school of his, with the recipe to save it from going under, nothing like that. That didn't mean he couldn't at least get some fucked up shit out of the picture, take them out in the Hisil, and have the influence die in Dolareido and Devil's Corner.

"That's hard for a Kindred to wrap their mind around," she said. "Everything a vamp does, we do to save ourselves first, and our own kin second. You really want to help a bunch of strangers?"

"Yeap. Because, fuck me, I like Dolareido. Born here, grew up here, plan to stick around, and I'd like to make it a better city."

"Bleeeeeeh." She rested her temple on his shoulder as they walked, heading back toward the center of South Side where he lived. "Don't start getting virtuous on me."

"Turn off?"

"A bit, yeah."

He kissed the top of her head, and laughed. "I'll be doing it against the wishes of my supposed Uratha superiors. Does that help?"