My Little Ventrue Pt. 07 Ch. 10

"I didn't realize before, how fucked up a person Angela was! We didn't know about those two women she stabbed, until it was mentioned at the hospital, when that shit went down, you know, where you killed a bunch of my friends? I looked into what you said about Angela, about the woman in the hospital and her daughter. And yeah, it lines up."

"And..."

"And it's more than just that. We've all seen how unstable she is, and Jeremiah doesn't seem interested in calming her down or helping her out. Hell, he pushes her to get more psychotic about shit."

Jack looked to his friends. Damien was in analyze mode, as per any Mekhet. Fiona, on the other hand, looked like she was trapped between fear and excitement, her eyes locked on Harcourt. Damien had mentioned she seemed to be a bit of a fear and excitement junkie; this situation would feed right into that.

"If you're lying," Jack said, "you know what I'll do to you."

"I do. I'm here because I'm serious about wanting to take Angela down. Jeremiah too. His crusade against Azamel is... fuck me, I feel like I'm working for a literal crusader, complete with burning people at the stake." Harcourt took a deep breath, clapped his hands together, and turned in his seat to face Jack more head on. "But you'll want proof. I know you're a Ventrue, so, make me tell you the truth."

Jack snapped his hand out, and grabbed the man by the neck. Even without the curse, Jack was still a vampire, over two years old, and had enough strength in his grip to kill this man. But with the curse, he could flay this man into strips with a fingernail. Harcourt's hands took him by the wrist, but as the man struggled, Jack let just a little of the curse flow out of him, flow through him, and into his fingers. The hunter froze as he felt the power of Jack's vise grip, and how his struggles did nothing to dislodge it.

"You saw what I did to your hunter friend with my bare hands?"

The man shook his head. He must have missed it, then, in the chaos of crows.

"I popped him like a grape, Harcourt. I squashed him until he split down the middle, with my hands. You fuckers awoke something inside me. That's how I summoned my army, and it's how I'll do it again if I find out you're lying. I'll feed you to the crows, alive, and I'll make sure they start with the fingers first, then toes, then your face, then your guts. It'll take days to die. Understand?" The man nodded desperately. Either he was overwhelmed with the immediate need to avoid having his throat crushed, knowing full well Jack would crush it a minute later once he'd discovered the truth, or he was telling the truth.

But Jack wasn't about to risk accepting a man's word. The hunter expected him to use Dominate, to dig up the truth, and that's what he was going to do. Jack leaned in closer to the man, pulled him toward him, and met his eyes.

The hunter's tattoos, or maybe it was the necklace, or the strange bracelet made of old string, but something the hunter had on created a barrier for Jack's mind. It reminded Jack of that time he was captured in handcuffs that had a magical property. He'd broken through them then, the magical, invisible barrier, and breaking through whatever protection this hunter had was going to be easier, now that Jack had the full might of the curse to back him. The issue now, was not accidentally destroying the hunter's mind in the process of getting through the barrier.

"Look... into my eyes..." Jack stared hard into the man, reached out with his vitae, and tried to find the balance. Was it like this for other Ventrue? It couldn't have been. They didn't have some extra force pushing and pulling inside them. He supposed most vampires had to learn to use their abilities like driving a car. Jack had to learn to ride a horse, or a better comparison: learn to ride a dragon. It wasn't just an extension of him, like a vehicle was, or any tool. It had a mind of its own, and unlike most Kindred's Beasts, this one had its own awareness that it was willing to throw at him.

If he fucked up this strange balance, he'd break this fool's mind, and then he'd be useless. Their one opportunity to get the hunters, to find a way to catch them, and if Jack screwed up, they could be set back months, years, or fucking decades.

Jack sighed relief as he felt the vitae connect mind to mind, an invisible tether that reached through the air. He could feel the man's mind now, something in the distance that he could touch, mold, and break.

"Are you being honest, about why you're here?" The man again nodded desperately. Jack's grip had loosened enough to let the man breathe, but only just. "You've told us no lies?" More nods. "And you aren't planning to betray us?" More nods.

Satisfied, Jack released the man's throat, and his grip on the man's mind. The connection snapped like a giant elastic band, and Jack had to take a second to not recoil from the power of it. His natural talent for Dominate paled in comparison to the power the curse brought to the table.

As his mind came back to him, Jack looked to Fiona and Damien. His friend was looking at him with obvious worry, but Fiona looked almost inspired by Jack's power, excited, and awestruck. She could see things Damien couldn't, things Jack couldn't see either. Maybe she could see what Jack felt, black tendrils reaching out from his core and into the man's mind.

The hunter, gasping for breath, managed to not give into his obvious fear and run away. This man had the scars of someone who'd dealt with fear the hard way, face on, and it hadn't broken him so far. He was a reliable man for his fellow hunters, then, or at least he had more courage than fear.

"Can I speak now?" he said. Jack nodded, eyes locked onto the hunter's face. "Right. So, you know that Jeremiah and Angela came here to kill Azamel, right?" Damien and Fiona slowly nodded this time. Jack kept his gaze on the hunter, eyes stabbing the man as he waited without patience. "I don't know where he met this Elen witch, and I don't know how she got that fucking monster Sándor under her spell, but I guess you know how Elen has been moving us around the city now, where you can't find us."

"A flesh chamber," Jack said, a small snarl escaping him. "Fucking sick."

"You're telling me." The man visibly shivered, with an exaggerated motion. He had a loud personality, this man, and if it wasn't for the dire circumstances, he'd probably be joking, laughing, and having a drink. "You have to understand, none of us wanted this. Jeremiah picked us up from a bunch of different cities, told us stories about this monster Azamel, showed us evidence, and recruited us. A few years later, we're neck deep in this shit, and now he's got this witch hag helping us, giving us tattoos, healing our wounds like a regular Frankenstein, while we get butchered trying to find a way to get access to this monster's lair.

"But like I said, you have to understand. We didn't want this, me and my friends. Hunters avoid Dolareido because you seem to be pretty good about keeping humans alive and happy. Don't get me wrong, a bunch of us would love to smoke you out and burn you down, but fuck me, you are so low on the list of things to give a shit about, no one comes here. We're drowning now, clinging to each other trying to float in this river Jeremiah's thrown us into."

"You're... asking me to spare you hunters," Jack said.

"Yeah."

"You have no leverage. I can force from you every detail you have to offer."

"Well, that's the kicker. If I fight, I mean really fight, I figure I can last an hour or two before you break me, right? Got these tattoos for a reason. Thing is, this tip I'm about to give you is only good for the night. After that, I'm borderline useless to you. You might be able to use me to bait some hunters to come out and meet me for a meeting or something, but you won't be able to catch the boss that way."

Harcourt was wrong. He didn't know about the curse, not truly, and how easy it'd be for Jack to smash through his supernatural defenses again, go deeper, and extract the information forcefully. Then again, the same problem presented itself, and Jack might destroy the man's mind in the process, rendering the hunter useless to him. If Harcourt fought Jack's Dominate this time, and Jack had to push harder to break past it and his supernatural defenses, it was a very real possibility.

"Perhaps," Jack said. "So, what exactly are you proposing?"

"I tell you how to get Angela, Jeremiah, and the witch, tonight, if you promise to let everyone else go."

Frowning, Jack looked to Fiona and Damien. The Begotten put up her hands, refusing to comment, but Damien leaned in over the table.

"The hunter is here on good faith, if your Dominate was successful. And if this tip is only good for the night, well... it's true, isn't it, that those three are our only true targets?"

Fuck, Damien was right. And Jack didn't want to take a gamble on getting the information with Dominate, especially if the information was only good for the night.

"I could have over a hundred vampires marching an assault on Jeremiah if I had time to prepare, Mister Harcourt," Jack said, glaring at the terrified man beside him. "And... you're putting me in a position where I can't use them."

"Exactly. I'm trying to save as many lives as I can."

"Sounds to me like you're trying to save your own life, while getting me and my kin to take Jeremiah off the map."

The hunter shook his head vehemently. "I got to sneak out here because we hunters don't spend time watching each other. If I wanted to, I could have run, just left the city. But I'm trying to save my friends."

Sighing, Jack leaned back in his seat, and rubbed his skull with his fingertips. Think, think. How to handle this. He could Dominate the man completely, control him like a puppet, and maybe—no, the same problem came up. If he fucked up, if the curse decided to go too far, too hard, this man's value would be lost. Jack hadn't spent nearly enough time learning to use the curse to risk it.

"Alright," Jack said. "You've put me in a difficult position. Tell us what you know, and me and my friends will take down Jeremiah, Angela, and Elen."

"How many vamps?"

Jack ran the numbers fast. "About ten friends, give or take." And not all vamps, but he didn't need to know that.

Harcourt sighed, looked down, and let several minutes go by in silence. Jack almost started yelling, but stopped himself. If the man was risking the lives of his friends on this, the least Jack could do was give him a second to think.

"Promise you'll do what you can to spare their lives."

It took everything Jack had, to not start screaming, break the man's wrist, several ribs, and rip into his mind. But that was redirected rage. As much as Angela didn't pull the trigger, she made the order, she killed Julias. The hunter who did pull the trigger was just a tool, and in the first place, this guy wasn't that hunter anyway.

God, it was hard to make that distinction. The anger boiling inside him, being fed by the curse like gasoline on fire, was blurring the faces of his enemies. Kill them all. Kill them all.

No, he wouldn't kill them all. He refused. He wouldn't give into this curse.

"My promise is worth something to you?" Jack said.

"Better than nothing. Vamps in Dolareido seem to conduct themselves halfway decently, and after what I saw in the hospital, I'll take your word over Angela's."

Jack looked to his friends again. They shrugged. This was the perfect opportunity, an amazing opportunity, if the hunter was telling the truth. And he was. Jack would have been a fool to not take advantage, but there was no way, no way in Hell, that this was going to go down without a problem.

"I'm killing Angela and Jeremiah," Jack said. "If your friends don't get out of my way, I'll kill them, too."

"And if they do move out of the way?"

"Then yes, I'll spare them, and I'll make sure anyone I bring with me knows to do the same. Promise." And he meant it. As much as the curse wanted to bathe the city in the blood of all the hunters, it was Angela and Jeremiah that Jack wanted. Hopefully he could steer the curse in that direction, when it came to it.

"Good. Great. We have a deal then." Harcourt looked left and right, groaned, and tapped his fingers on the table again and again. "Fuck, wish I had a drink. But can't get drunk. Need to stay frosty."

"Frosty?" Jack rolled his eyes. "Do you hunters seriously talk like that?"

"They don't. I do." Shrugging again, Harcourt looked around yet again, utterly convinced someone was spying on him. Maybe they were. Jack felt nothing though, and neither did his friends. "So Elen's portals, the active one moves around a lot, right? I know where it is tonight. Tomorrow it'll be somewhere else."

Jack clenched his hands until he felt fingers threaten to pierce skin. "Where is it?"

"I don't suppose you'll just, let me take you there, as insurance?"

"I'm already taking a huge risk by listening to this advice at all, Harcourt. Tell me where the fuck the portal is, and then I can decide on a course of action."

"Decide? This is a one-time thing! I don't know if I'll be able to just, walk back in after this. Angela and Jeremiah have... ways, of knowing things. Elen and her fucking sacrifices know things. She has ways of knowing if hunters have been affected by... monsters. I can't risk going back, now. I—"

Jack held up a hand, and again stared into the man and his fidgeting eyes. "I could make you go back, but I won't. I suspect you're right about Elen, and ultimately, that you're correct about a lot of things. This has to happen, tonight, but I'll only make that call if you tell me where this portal is."

Groaning all the more, rather loudly at that, Harcourt slumped back in his seat. "For tonight, the portal is active under the Dampheer Bridge."

Dampheer Bridge was a small bridge over an even smaller gap in the earth, one of the hundreds of roads that connected North and South Side. There was nothing there, just road, some brush, a few trees, and rocks. It was on the outskirts, before the Mojave-like desert that surrounded the city. It was such a boring place, that Jack had to laugh as he thought about hunters sneaking out of a witch's portal underneath the tiny bridge.

Jack looked down, and planned. They had six hours before sunlight. No way in hell would Maria and Michael, or Antoinette for that matter, let him launch an attack on the hunters in this circumstance, on such a lead. If he went to the Invictus, they'd stop him. If he went to the Prince, she'd stop him. And he couldn't blame them. This had reckless and dangerous written all over it.

"But," Harcourt said, throwing his hands up before slumping in his seat again, "the kicker is, I don't know how to get the portal open. Elen always does it from the inside. I wouldn't be surprised if we had to sacrifice someone, and that... yeah, I'd prefer to not do that."

"You came here," Jack said, "knowing full well that the portal you're telling us about, is closed, and you don't know how to open it?"

"I'm sure I could figure it out! I just... don't want to have to sacrifice someone to do it." He shuddered visibly, and Jack swore he could see the man reach for a drink that wasn't there. A lifelong habit, then. "In my mental plan, Elen opens the portal while you guys are hiding. Maybe you do a stakeout until Elen opens it for someone to come out. And then you do what needs to be done."

"And if she doesn't open the portal?"

"Then... you let me go?"

Good god, this man, was an idiot. Jack supposed that you had to be at least a bit stupid to become a hunter, but this man was a colossal fool; he had a strange sense of honor to go with it, though.

"Lucky for you, we have options. Time to assemble the team." Jack rubbed his hands together, and smiled as he felt the hunger growing inside him. Not a hunger for blood, since he'd already eaten, but a hunger for violence. He wasn't sure if it was the curse craving violence, or him, craving revenge, but it was a feeling he was glad to have.

He pulled out his phone, and called the most important person to bring on this mission.

"Yeah?"

"Beatrice, it's Jack. Meet me near the Dampheer Bridge in an hour. Say... on the roof of Robina's."

"Shit, really? You found them?"

"We just might have, but we have a time limit. We get this done tonight, or our lead goes cold. Are you ready with the ritual?"

"I am. I... am. I'll be there."

"Anyone else coming?"

"Jacob, as usual, is nowhere to be found, but the rest of us are here."

"Excellent. Round em up. We're going in swinging."

"Jennifer too?"

Right, Jennifer. A talented Ventrue and ten years embraced, but ten years old wasn't exactly old enough to be marching headlong into a bunch of hunters. She got lucky last time, very lucky.

"Yeah, Jennifer too. We'll need some people on the outside, where it's safer." He couldn't avoid putting some weight in those words. He knew what Beatrice was thinking, about the idea of risking Jennifer. She'd lost enough.

"Yeah, ok, I can agree with that. I'll be there."

Jack hung up, and started dialing another number, before Damien reached out and pushed down on the phone.

"Jack, are you sure you want to do this?"

Putting his phone down, Jack looked between the Begotten and his friend. Did he want to do this? Of course not. He was going to kill people tonight, and he was going to let the curse out, let it do its thing, let it run rampant and slaughter. Kindred might die, too.

But revenge could happen. Revenge was going to happen. Angela, Jeremiah, and even Elen, he'd have them all. Things could go back to normal, or at least more normal. And he could save lives if he pulled this off, prevent more paranormals from being killed. All they had to do was get over this hill. And the window was closing rapidly.

"We don't have time to think about this, Damien, at least not for long. Unless you see a better opportunity coming in the near future, we need to do this and do it now. You in?"

"Of course."

Tension that'd been building since he realized he needed to act tonight, melted away, as he met Damien's gaze. His friend was coming with him. He hadn't been sure he would.

For a moment, Jack had to force down a sob. It came out of nowhere, a harsh reminder that his best friend had died, and Damien was now his best friend. And damn it, he was a good friend.

"Thanks."

"Me too me too!" Fiona bounced in her seat, several times. Instantly, every man in the booth had to lift their eyes. Wow, what a dress. "Uh, I mean... I need to talk to Azamel first."

"That's why I told Triss we need an hour. We need to talk to Azamel, in person. But first, more troops." Jack lifted his phone, and dialed Jessy's number. No answer. He dialed Natasha's number. No answer. What the fuck? "Ok, so, no Natasha or Jessy." He wasn't sure he could convince Natasha to come, not with knowing the Prince would have both their hides for this absurd plan. But Jessy, he was sure would come to bat for him.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they were doing something with the Uratha," Damien said. Yeah, that made more sense than Jack's worst nightmare coming true, that two of his friends were dead and he didn't even know about it.

But if the Uratha were out on a hunt without their phones, or in the Hisil, that made this final call a desperate hope of a hope, then. He dialed Clara's number.

"Hello?"

"Clara, hey, it's Jack. Where you at?"

"In the fancy hotel you're paying for. I'm currently soaking in a giant tub, and I have to say, I look exceptionally amazing naked in it." Her words were a bit slurred, and emphasized in strange places. Uh oh.

Jack blinked at the three people looking at him, before putting his hand over the receiver. "Uh, Damien, can you and Fiona take our hunter friend here outside? I'll be with you in a second. And Fiona, can you transport us t—"