My Little Ventrue Pt. 07 Ch. 18

That sent a shiver up Damien's spine. Elen was still alive. And it wasn't Antoinette who'd got her, Jacob had. Knowing that psychopath had a flesh witch to torture secrets out of, was not a pleasing thought.

Jack didn't mention Clara. And he didn't mention how Athalia hadn't helped them like she was supposed to. Damien noted these. Last thing they needed right now was holes in their story. Jack wanted to protect Clara, and he wanted to protect Athalia. If Athalia had truly betrayed them in an effort to save her daughter, Damien was surprised he felt that way. But, he didn't know the details of what happened at the end, and judging by the somber look on Jack's face, and everyone else when he'd woken up in the nightmare for that matter, it hadn't been good.

"Let me get this straight," Michael said, sitting back against the office table edge as he folded his arms across his chest. "You did not contact either me or Madam Turio. You did not even contact the Prince, someone you have sway with, Mister Terry. You did not contact the Invictus at large for aid either. Instead, you decided to trust witches, and this curse that you still do not fully understand." His voice rose until it was booming. He didn't yell, but he came close, and Damien found it growing more and more difficult to hold still.

"Yes, Mister McDonald," Jack said. "I had no time. Harcourt's offer was legitimate, and the time frame small." Sighing, Jack looked to his boss, and met the man's gaze in a way Damien never would. "And I knew this curse was strong enough to deal with them."

Damien winced, and finally looked down. Yeah, it was strong enough to deal with the hunters, and Sándor, and maybe both at the same time. If, instead of fighting inside alien and unusual places, the fight had been in Dolareido itself, he bet Jack would have had an even easier time beating them. A vampire, in a city, with walls and shadows and nigh infinite creatures to summon, was a far more dangerous creature than one in a strange place, like a fish out of water.

"And where were you during all this," Michael said to his childe.

Jessy stood up straight, ripped out of her shocked expression that'd been locked on Jack for some time. "Uh, I was out with some of the werewolves, and Natasha... sire."

And if Jessy didn't join them, that meant whatever it was she was up to with the werewolves, had prevented her involvement. Considering how important dealing with the hunters was, that put a sign over her head saying she was doing some shit with the werewolves that was either a big deal, or involved the Shadow realm. Either way, it was clear Jessy hadn't told Michael about it, and her sire growled as he glared at her.

Throughout all this, Maria watched, and glared as well. Michael was content to wear his rage on his surface, but Maria kept it buried, only leaking out through her eyes.

"The hunters are defeated," Maria said at last, standing up from her seat at the huge table. "I am sure you realized as you launched this assault, that Mister McDonald would not approve, Mister Terry."

The boy nodded. "I did, Madam Turio. But there was no way I could convince you that this curse was strong enough to succeed, except victory." His voice rose as well, a little louder than Damien thought smart. "I had to make a decision, where only I could be fully aware of the elements involved. I knew I could do that, that the curse could do it, and we did."

The two elders aimed their stabbing eyes at the boy, but Jack did not back down. Jessy and Damien both inched themselves away from him, just a little, afraid he might spontaneously combust under the power of their glares.

But, after a few moments of painful silence, the two elders looked to each other, and sighed.

"You speak truly, Mister Terry," Maria said. Damien sighed as he felt the tension melt out of him. "While your actions were extreme, it is true that these are unusual circumstances. The Circle and the Ordo acquiring new toys to fuel their experiments does not bring me joy, but knowing that the majority of the hunters have been defeated, does."

Michael nodded. "This is a great thorn out of our side. As much as I'd like to be angry with you, Mister Terry, you've beaten an enemy, and secured your own revenge. Now, we can focus on the Carthians, and their infuriating need to disturb the balance."

Michael went on, talking about the politics of Dolareido, how the Carthians were pushing against the Invictus, using Terra Den to fight Xnomina, and how Garry Tones was a loose cannon. Maria, on the other hand, was happy to let the man rant as she looked at Damien. The knowing glance traded between them was plenty. She did not like what she'd heard about the curse, and was reminding Damien that it was his responsibility to deal with Jack, if it came to that.

After tonight, it didn't seem like a such a ridiculous notion, that he might have to kill Jack. He prayed he wouldn't have to, but unless he found a way to reseal the curse, the possibility of Damien having to do something was very real, and sickening.

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"Can't believe it," Jessy said as she stepped onto the elevator. "You fucking killed them all?"

Sighing, Jack shook his head. "No. Like I said, Elen killed most of them."

"But, you would have killed most of them, if she hadn't done it for you, right? Hell, you had them on the run."

"I did... it did." The boy shuddered and shook his head again. "It was nasty, Jessy. Not like, a great war story I want to share, ok?"

"But, you won! Julias is--"

"Yeah, I know. And I get it. But later, ok?"

She put her hands up in surrender. "Sure, sure. But, I mean, you must be a little happy, right? Angela's dead! Jeremiah's dead. Christ, you got em!" Laughing, she clapped the man on the shoulder. "Julias avenged! No more sweeps every fucking night. No more worrying about that fucker blowing us up during the day. Parties are back on the menu?"

As much as Damien was trying to appreciate Jack's rather sober and serious attitude, Jessy got Damien smiling. Him, and a moment later, Jack as well. Perhaps the man wasn't as depressed as he seemed. Jessy was right, after all. They'd won.

"Yes, parties are back on the menu, you fucking dumbass," Jack said, throwing his hands up not unlike Jessy had moments ago. "The Prince is going to be hosting a party soon. Or, you know, ball."

"Ooh, like the last one? I got this new dress that--"

"Not like the last one. Well, maybe a bit? My mom's going to be there, and this will be the first, real social thing she's gone to since her embrace, except for a couple trips to Bloodlust for drink. So, you know, lay off fingering and blowing the kine that come?"

"Agreed," Damien said. Social gatherings, parties, balls, they weren't things he enjoyed, and seeing kine being stripped, Kissed, and sexually pleasured, only made said things more difficult for him. Now that he had a girlfriend, maybe it'd be different? Fiona would be there, and being that she wasn't a vampire, she couldn't simply turn off her body's desires. It'd be a night of her trying to get into his pants, because everything around her would be lighting her blood on fire.

In retrospect, maybe it wouldn't be so bad?

"Well, I won't be enjoying myself that way, anyway. Eric doesn't seem interested in getting more legs in the bed."

Damien shrugged. "Perhaps he's happy with your relationship, sexually speaking? Not all relationships need to include wanton sex orgies."

"Of course he's happy, I'm fucking awesome. And I'm damn happy with Eric, too. But I keep thinking, man it'd be hot to have some more legs in this bed. Like, I'm thinking he'll really love it, too. He's a guy, right? What guy doesn't want two, or three, or five sets of lips sucking on his cock?"

Rolling his eyes, Damien gestured to Jack. "Does having more legs in your bed make your nights with the Prince more enjoyable?"

The kid shook his head, without hesitation either. "Honestly? No. I mean, I enjoy Ashley and Julee's company, and I enjoy that Antoinette enjoys their company. The sex isn't better with them there, but it certainly is different." He tapped his chin then, and Damien and Jessy waited for his growing thought. "It can actually kinda ruin the romance sometimes, you know? Antoinette loves her ghouls, but it's not romantic love, and when she and I want to be romantic, it can be a little hard to do that with them around."

That got Jessy thinking. "Romance, right. I... I guess I don't do the romance thing very well. Never been in a real relationship, you know? Not good at this whole 'hey I like you, we should be friends and fuck, but also emotionally support each other' thing."

Jack laughed. "Eric's divorced, right? He's probably got a bunch of triggers you're setting off, warning him that you're not taking the relationship seriously when you propose having more people in bed."

"I am taking it seriously!" Like a child throwing a tantrum, she stomped around the elevator as it continued its descent. "Like, really seriously; by my standards at least. I don't normally let myself get all... mushy, you know? But I do with Eric."

Nodding, Jack leaned back against the wall of the elevator. It was a long way down, and they had a little bit to talk. "I'm sure if you keep trying, you'll have more legs in your bed eventually. But in the meantime, I'd suggest dialing down on the orgy pushing a bit, and dial up the romantic lovey dovey stuff."

"Bleh. Bleh!"

Jack and Damien laughed, and Damien leaned back against the elevator wall next to his friend. He said nothing though, this particular topic well outside his expertise. Better to let his friend talk, and he could absorb and learn. Jack didn't seem like the sort of guy to be well versed in social romance constructs, but then again, he was very smart, and had Antoinette for a lover.

"You were out with him tonight?" Jack said.

"Yeah, with Tash, visiting the Shadow realm. Scary shit! Those spirit things are fucking weird. Some of them look like they came out of a Dr. Seuss story. Some of them look like they came out of a nightmare. And now that we've all literally been inside nightmares, I can say that with authority."

"Learn anything useful?" Damien said.

"Nah, just that the werewolves have a spirit, Flowing Sanctuary, and she won't let us stir up trouble. Black Blood wasn't around either, but if Jacob has Elen, then I'm guessing that's why."

Before Damien could ask what sort of trouble the damn Gangrel was attempting to cause, the elevator door opened. Fiona jumped in place at the door, several times, wearing her usual leather jacket and jeans, and helped Damien out of the elevator. Much as he'd been holding up well for the last minute meeting, truth was he desperately needed to lie down and sleep. He insides ached, and Clara hadn't given him enough blood to fully recover; even if she had, he still needed sleep to use it.

"Fiona," Jessy said, "ball happening in a few days. Gonna celebrate! The boys here are suggesting we vamps tone it down, you know, sexually speaking, compared to last time."

"Well fuck that! Ye want to celebrate, right? I say, more sex than last time!"

Damien, who'd just finished hooking his right arm over Fiona's shoulders, facepalmed with his left. Of course Fiona would agree with Jessy. She'd have agreed to skydiving without a parachute, if someone suggested it, especially Jessy. Those two were not good for each other.

"Please don't," Jack said. "My mom's gonna be there, and she's not exactly, uh... a slut, like the two of you?"

Damien winced, expecting a backlash. But Fiona and Jessy laughed, shrugged, and stuck their tongues out at him. At the same time. Had they been hanging out together?

"Only one man in my life, ye wankstain." Rolling her eyes, she leaned in and put a kiss on Damien's cheek. "Now, I'm gonna take that man home, and take care of him."

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They went to his apartment. The sun would be up very soon, maybe twenty minutes, and there wasn't time for a visit to her place to drop her off. His apartment was a typical expensive apartment, except that he hadn't decorated it, at all. Nothing but cold steel colors, with plenty of blacks, including blackout curtains. While he'd slept here before, he'd mostly slept in Maria's den, with the rising threat of the hunters.

Now, with the hunters shattered, no leaders, no special flesh chamber to hide within, the chances of them attacking was minuscule; attacking his apartment building specifically, beyond minuscule. And with the reinforced walls, extra locks on the door, blackout curtains, and bedroom with no windows, the chances of someone or some sunlight managing to reach him while he slept was extremely low.

Dolareido had been built from the ground up to house vampires after all. Only the elders slept in places more secure, and perhaps the witches and their cave.

"Victory!" Fiona said, and she giggled openly as she set him on his bed. Black sheets, black pillow cases, white walls. His girlfriend couldn't help but laugh when she looked around, shrugged, and sat on the bed with him. "The hunters are gone!"

"Not completely gone."

"Na, but close!" Nodding like she understood the world and its secrets, she started to undress him.

"You don't have to--"

"I want to. I was so worried! Ye coulda died, and I wouldnae 'ave been there! Athalia, she... she tricked me, and--"

He shook his head, and set a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know what happened exactly. Do you know the details? Of what happened between Jack and Athalia, at the end, with Angela."

"Na." Sighing with a big, heavy sound, she turned to face him, and flomped on him. Flomped, like a big dog not aware of its own size. He was flattened to his bed, and he groaned as the impact of her body awakened his wounds. "Fuck! Sorry. I'm such a dobber."

He smiled, and hugged her as she cuddled into his chest. Sunrise was coming, and they didn't have much time for anything. He doubted either of them would really be in the mood for sex anyway, not after tonight. Even monsters could only look so much death in the eye before it made them sick.

"Athalia..."

"What?" he said.

"Athalia, she'll be... sad. She talked about her daughter, ye ken? Blethered on about her, about how... how much it was her fault, that Angela turned out like she did."

"Everyone's responsible for their own actions."

"Aye, but it's nae the same! Athalia's Horror couldnae help it, and it... it really hurt Angela, ye ken? She grew up with nightmares, all the time. And Athalia, she was so... so..." Sniffling, Fiona nuzzled her face into Damien's neck, and sighed louder, straight into the side of his throat. The warmth of her breath was pleasant. "I'll talk to her, but I know she'll be so sad!"

"Sad enough... that she'll want revenge?"

Fiona shrugged into his body, and kissed his neck once before growing still again. "I dinnae think so, but... I dinnae know. She'll be..." Sad. Fiona couldn't find a better word for it. It was a sadness Damien knew he'd never be able to appreciate it, but he didn't need to. For the moment, his concern was whether Athalia would be a problem, and if it was a good idea to leave her alive.

He could kill her, he knew he could. He wasn't Daniel, but that didn't mean he couldn't sneak up on Athalia and end her, or snipe her from a distance. All these events had been driving him to be better, faster, sneakier, and with Daniel to train him, he knew he'd be good enough to kill the monster if he caught her in the physical world.

Good Lord. It was frustrating that he kept framing his problems with 'could I kill this person?' First Jack, now Athalia. Who next?

He kissed Fiona's hair, wrinkled his nose as the frizzy mane tickled his face, and hugged her. "Can you get home from here? Or should I--"

"Aye, I can, easy. Ye rest. I'll burrow home from under yer bed, once ye're down."

He laughed at that. It was a sound he didn't make often, but a lot more when she was around. He was dating a monster that came from under the bed, literally.

"Can you get into places the same way?"

"Kinda. Getting back to my lair is nae the same as opening a door. If I've been there before, I can burrow there, if there's some darkness around. But I cannae take others that way. I need to open a door for that, and that would need a lot of similarities between a place in my lair, and where I'm opening up to." She kissed his neck again, and nuzzled in close, as if she was going to sleep. Maybe she was?

He was lowering his guard down quite a bit, having someone else in his bedroom while he let sunrise come. Vampire instinct told him he should go find somewhere safer to sleep, somewhere where people didn't know his location, or at least do it alone. But, he trusted Fiona, far more than he figured he'd ever trust another. She was too damn sweet to do anything to betray him.

And, there was a painful reality he and the other Kindred had trouble accepting: Begotten could get almost anywhere, go almost anywhere, as long as they'd been there once before. They were the Houdinis of the paranormal world, evidently, and if you were unlucky enough to get pulled into their lair, they were insanely powerful.

One of those inescapable monsters, someone that could get you from under your own damn bed, now hated Jack and Beatrice. Jack with his curse could take her in a straight fight, sure, but Athalia didn't have to play nice. She could strike out from the shadows in a way that'd make any Nos or Mekhet jealous. No wonder Antoinette wasn't happy they were in her city.

Well, Damien was happy they were, or at least, happy Fiona had come. As sunrise came, and he let Kindred instinct pull him down into the deep slumber of his daily coma, he indulged in the sensation of Fiona's body on him.

They'd won. No more hunters, mostly. They could take a moment to relax, and worry about other problems now, problems that seemed less liable to blow up buildings in a reckless attack. But, for the second life of him, he could not completely relax. Something or someone was out there, creeping around in Dolareido, sneaking, cutting holes and creating portals, according to Fiona. As much as Damien knew he'd have to deal with the Carthians, and potentially Jack, and maybe even Maria or Jacob, as least they were known quantities. Knowing something else was out there, maybe harmless, maybe not, was itching at the Mekhet half of him.

He had to learn more.

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~~Antoinette~~

The next night, she awoke, and without a word, began to fuck her little Ventrue. First for his pleasure, and then for hers.

Antoinette relaxed into the mountain of pillows against her back, bed beneath her, and grinned at the boy between her legs. With her ass on her blankets, her knees were raised, and thighs hooked over Jack's shoulders. His mouth was wrapped around her sex, completely, and his tongue lapped and massaged her clitoris. His weight was on his elbows, left hand hooked around her leg to rest on her stomach, while his right hand stretched her open with several fingers, and pressed up against her g-spot.

Oh, how she had taught her little Ventrue well. After burying her clitoris in rough, almost frantic licking for several seconds, and nearly bringing her toward her second orgasm, he slowed down. He switched to a gentle suckle, drawing her lips with his own, before doing the same for her clitoris. No longer did her lover dedicate his efforts simply to making her orgasm. As his skills had developed, he had long learned how to insure each orgasm was teased out of her, so each was powerful once it finally arrived. He had learned to trust his skills, trust in her arousal, and build the pleasure.

She smiled down at the buzzed head between her milky white thighs, and offered him a small moan. She did not need to moan of course, despite the coursing bliss she felt sparking outward from her swollen clitoris and aching depths, but the sound not only elicited joy from her lover, it also added to the art of the experience. Her moans were, after all, honed, and masterful.