My Little Ventrue Pt. 07 Ch. 19

"Hear me, filth," Antoinette said, and she brought the man in close to her face. "You are not invited to my ball, and for this transgression, neither is Azamel. One more misstep from her, and I will have the Invictus detonate the explosives placed in the precious tunnels. Go back to the old crone, and give the shadow creature Athalia a message. If she behaves, she is invited, and will be safe under the protection I give all those who enter my walls." After a quiet growl, Antoinette threw the man back, and everyone spread apart to let him crash into the office floor.

Mark got up, looked around, eyed the sheriff with what Triss could only guess was professional rivalry, before glaring at Antoinette again. But, he said nothing. He turned, and walked out of the room.

"Uh... you invited Athalia?" Triss said.

Antoinette snapped her a look, and she froze. Ok, yeah, talking without being asked to talk was not a good idea right now.

Once Antoinette calmed down in a second, she nodded. "Indeed. Samantha wishes to speak with her, or at least see her once for herself."

Triss winced and looked to Jack. His mom wanted to see the mother of Angela. Fuck, what was that interaction going to be like? Hell, what would any interaction with Athalia be like, after the death of her daughter?

"Can Mo--Samantha be trusted with such a decision?" Jack said.

"Yes, she can." Antoinette gave the small Ventrue a harsh glare not unlike the one she gave Triss, before she stepped around her desk to sit in her chair again. "We may discuss your mother later, Mister Terry. For now, understand that all are invited to my ball. All, except for that... thing"--she gestured to the door--"and his master. If last night had not gone as it did, if Azamel had lied to me, or deceived me, Mark would be dead, and I would personally see to killing Azamel myself." As she said it, she looked to Fiona, as if daring the woman to challenge her.

Fiona did not. She put up her hands, an exaggerated surrender, before putting them down and doing her best to disappear by holding perfectly still.

"Miss Moreno," Antoinette continued, looking to Clara, "I understand that Avery may disagree with your actions last night. Should I not mention you at the ball?"

"Um, the boss already knows, the sneaky bitch. So I guess it doesn't matter. But, mention?"

"Oui. I will be making an announcement at the ball, of who defeated the hunters." Her eyes fell to Sándor, and she looked at the quiet man for a little while, probably trying to gauge how the gargoyle would react. The problem was, the man barely reacted at all. His eyes were locked onto her, and the room as a whole, obviously paying attention, but Mark and Daniel's sudden appearance, and Antoinette's aggression toward his fellow Begotten had barely made him move. He just, stood there, like a gargoyle.

Which the Prince took as a silent yes, apparently.

"Excellent. Dolareido has come unto strange times, and I expect that, by explaining the different forces involved in this act, I can nurture an atmosphere of cooperation. The assault was a joint effort of many groups, after all."

Ah, politics, the worst reason to do anything. But Antoinette was smart, and good at the Danse Macabre, better than Triss would ever be. Better to just do what she said. Not like Triss had a choice anyway, since only the Uratha and Begotten were optionals. Everyone else was just expected to do what Antoinette wanted them to, and they would, too, unless they wanted to get on her bad side. No one wanted that.

"Dress well. Suits, dresses, and do not be afraid to show some skin. Some, mind you." Nodding, Antoinette waved a hand, a tiny gesture, motioning for them to go. "Jack, please explain the rules of my city to Sándor."

"Me?"

"Oui. I trust you, and I am pressed for time."

Jack nodded, and everyone left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, your mother is coming to the ball?" Jennifer said to Jack, in the elevator. In it were Triss, Jen, Jack, Clara, and Sándor. Othello, Aaron, Fiona, and Damien took another one, not wanting to crowd.

"Yes, she is," Jack said, and he glared at Jen with a hard squint. "Please don't wear what you wore last time."

"Jack! A woman never wears the same dress twice. Not to a ball, at least."

"You know what I mean. Can you cover up a bit? Mom's been single since my dad died years ago, and now she's getting hammered in all directions by"--Triss snorted on a laugh, and Jack glared at her as well--"by changes."

"She's Daeva!" Jen said. "Daeva love new experiences."

Jack jammed a finger in the girl's shoulder. "New experiences does not necessarily include an orgy buffet."

Orgy buffet. Well, Daeva did have a habit of becoming addicted to sex, and lining up kine like a buffet to drink, and then fuck. Or fuck, then drink. Or drink fuck. Triss could understand Jack having trouble imagining his mom doing that, but then again, the kid basically got to do just that, frequently.

So, she elbowed him in the side a bit. Half of her said don't do that, don't touch the demon, but the other half won over. This wasn't Jack the psycho. This was Jack, kid Jack, growing up far too fast but still her friend Jack. She could feel the curse, but it felt like it was asleep or something, or lurking under the surface. Strangely, she managed to relax around him, a little.

"Jack, come on, your mom's an adult. If you can survive a foursome on the reg, I think your mom can, too."

The kid cringed, and she laughed. Yeah, that was Jack, young Jack who could still get caught off guard by aspects of Kindred life he never predicted. Orgies and whatnot was one hurdle most Kindred dealt with; not her, considering she was Nosferatu and had a stick up her ass, but still. The hurdle of a family member also becoming Kindred, and then getting involved in their own orgies? It happened to a lot of Kindred, she supposed, those who got their family pulled into the Masquerade.

"Seriously Jack," Jennifer added, "you let go of your issues with sex, didn't you? That should extend to your mother, and I'm sure she'll let go of hers, with a little incentive." Smiling, Jen combed back her shoulder-length black hair over one ear, and took a step toward Sándor. "Mister Sándor, I... what is your last name, if I may ask?"

The man, who'd been watching them with an unreadable, muted expression, softened his stone gaze. Or at least, softened a little, as if he was making an effort.

"Pavel."

"Mister Pavel! I know your life has been quite hectic as of late. You've only been a free man for a single night, and the ball is in several days. Would you like some help finding clothes?"

That sneaky, crafty bitch. She was roping him in, giving him reasons to want to lean on her, and trust her considering she'd given him the location of their base. Not that it was a secret base, but there were plenty of Kindred who didn't know where it was; not exactly widely circulated info.

"I didn't plan to go." Again, deadpan face.

"You must come!" She came in closer again, until she was only a foot from him, fluttering her eyelashes up at the man. "Everyone will be there, and it will be the perfect opportunity for people to meet the Begotten who killed Jeremiah."

Mentioning Jeremiah managed to get a reaction from the statue, but it passed quickly.

"I'm only here because I know Dolareido is a safe enough place for me to rest this body. Once I... feel well enough to move on, I probably will."

Jennifer stood up straight, and frowned. "Move on? Why?"

"Because... this place is not my..." He didn't need to say it, he'd said it before. His wife and son were dead, and they were his home. His human half had been a slave for four years, too, so if he went back to his old life, the result would be obvious. He'd be accused of killing his wife and son. Christ, that'd suck.

"Well," Jennifer said, "I think Dolareido could be your new home. It's a huge city, with endless indulgences and interesting distractions."

"I don't have--"

"If you need money, I'm sure Jack will help you. Invictus are all rich. And they can create a new identify for you."

That earned a raised brow from the man, some of the largest expression Triss had seen from him yet. He looked to Jack, and the little guy nodded.

"Yeah, that'd be easy. There are Invictus in every branch of government, keeping information under control. It's the least I could do. And money, too."

Triss grinned at the Begotten, not having to say a word as the two Ventrue, predictably, handled the negotiations.

"Something tells me the Prince--"

"Nonsense," Jen said. "The Prince will be glad to have you in the city. She... may not be happy about the Uratha and other Begotten, but you seem a good deal more civil. And it is civility that the Prince seeks in others." She came in even closer, and held out a hand, just as the elevator door opened. Planned, no doubt. "Come, let us help build you a wardrobe."

Stoic as all fuck, the monster looked down at her hand, back to her, all without moving his head, and stood there. But even as Jack, Clara, and Triss walked out of the elevator, Jen remained where she was, waiting, smile unwavering. Damn, she was relentless.

The man sighed, and nodded. "Very well." He took her hand, and Triss watched him suppress a groan as Jennifer beamed.

"Excellent. Triss, coming?"

"Yeah sure."

"But I don't--"

Jennifer waved a hand, letting go of Sándor's but obviously implying for him to keep following. "You're in the company of vampires now, Mister Pavel. The city is our banquet to take from as we see fit. You won't need any money tonight."

Triss glanced to Jack. Yeah, he saw it too, that Jen was obviously manipulating the man because he'd be a powerful ally. But, she knew he knew, Jen was also earning the man's trust because she was trying to get Triss to open up more, since Julias's death, and she was going to use Sándor as catalyst. And Jen knew Triss knew, too, but she did it anyway, because she was a Ventrue, and that's just how Ventrue rolled.

"I'll walk with you," Jack said. "Gotta explain to Sándor about the rules, and... well, he probably knows most of them, and--" The other elevator opened, and Fiona came out, arm hooked with Damien's. God damn it, she was so cute. And the way she clung to Emo Boy like he was her everything, was sickeningly adorable. "Damien, Fiona, wanna walk with me for a bit?"

Before Damien could say anything, Fiona threw up a hand, jumped once, and dragged Damien over to him. For a moment, Triss thought Jack might ask Clara to follow, but Clara had already started walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fifteen minutes later, Sándor, Jen, and Triss were in a men's wear store. It was open, which was insane considering it was 3:00 AM, but hey, it was Dolareido, with a bustling nightlife that any smart company would take advantage of. Rich morons with cocaine in the blood did love to waste money on expensive suits, especially when they had a half naked gold digger to admire it, or mimbo dumbass on their arm to wear it.

Triss was getting better at Obfuscate, particularly Face in the Crowd. It no longer took as much effort to blend in, be unnoticed by the kine, and basically be a fly on the wall. She knew Sándor could tell what she was doing, so she didn't need to explain it to him. The man was a lot older than he looked, based on what he said, so he probably knew plenty about vampires anyway.

"May I help you?" the man behind the desk said.

"Yes you may," Jennifer said. "My friend here"--she gestured to Sándor--"needs a suit in two days."

"Two days?" The man, a tall, skinny fellow with a mouse face, squinted through his glasses at Sándor. "It cannot be done, Miss. Even minor alterations will require several days to move through our queue."

"Two days," she said, and she leaned over the glass counter at the man, over the various mens' jewelry. Her eyes met the man's, and his breathing stopped for a moment as Jennifer grabbed his mind. "We will try several suits tonight, black tie, and the alterations will be ready two days hence. Understood?" No theatrics, no explosive battle of wills, just a Ventrue dominating a simple, unsuspecting kine.

Deadpan, obviously brainwashed, the man slowly nodded. "Yes Miss. Come this way then, and I'll show you our selection." Not once did he glance Triss's way. Perfect.

Jennifer picked out three suits, each of them 'black tie' or whatever, lavish, practically tuxedos, with enough modern flair that they looked more like really nice lawyer suits. Sexy, the sort of suits Julias wore when he was feeling fancy. Triss frowned at Jen until she noticed, but Jen rolled her eyes, took the suits, handed them to Sándor, and took him to the changing room.

"Why are you doing this?" Sándor asked, eyes solid as he looked at the doting Ventrue.

"Beatrice told me what happened in the dream, about how you saved everyone."

"I didn't save everyone. I saved myself. Everyone else just happened to be there."

Jennifer grinned at the man as she leaned in toward his face. He didn't move. Hell, Jen probably could have kissed him and he wouldn't have moved, or blinked, or showed any expression.

"I don't believe you," she said. The Begotten raised a brow slightly before lowering it again. "And I heard about what happened to your family. Horrible. The least I can do is help you get adjusted to Dolareido." And, without asking, she started undoing his shirt buttons. So damn forward, but Sándor still didn't react.

"It's a city, like any other."

Triss snorted from her corner of the changing room. "Yeah, uh, no it ain't."

"Indeed," Jen said, smile growing wider. "The Prince and Jacob built this city to be a haven for vampires. I don't know how much you learned from Jeremiah, but paranormal beings are quite safe here, usually. The only problems we get are the ones we give each other." She slid him out of the blue shirt, and reached for one of the white ones she'd picked out for him.

"Yeah, Jack gave me the rundown on the way here," he said. A snarkier person would have said 'remember?' since Jen had been beside him the whole time while Jack explained. But Sándor didn't say it. He just stood there, and let the woman cross every personal boundary the man had. Yeesh. Either he just didn't mind, or was too broken to care. Maybe both.

God damn, that body. Yeah, those were muscles, lots of muscles on his slightly pale skin. He wasn't as big and bulky as some other guys, but shirtless, it was more obvious that half the reason for his leaner shape was he didn't have any fat on his body. Like, shredded, good lord. The fuck did this dude do in his human life to warrant a body like that? Or was it an effect from his Horror?

Heh, look at her, objectifying him based on his looks. Maybe Jen was right, and she was healing, sexually speaking.

Of course, Jen took his stoic attitude as a challenge. She started undoing his belt, while Sándor put on the white shirt.

"Jen, for the love of god, ease up."

"I'm just helping him undress. Calm down."

Triss wanted to say something, like 'good fucking god he just avenged his dead wife and son, leave him alone' but it'd have sounded dumb as fuck, especially coming from her. Besides, Sándor was an adult, and older than either of them. Dude must have had the balls to tell a pretty girl to back off if he wanted to.

He didn't say a thing, though he made sure to keep his eyes on Jen as she did her thing while he buttoned up his new shirt. "I'm not used to being... doted on."

"Well, get used to it," Jen said. "I did nothing last night but babysit a couple hunters, who'd surrendered already. You saved my girl's life breaking that ritual, and many of our friends' lives. I feel indebted, and a bit guilty for not participating." Nodding, she handed the man the black--charcoal, Jen had insisted--pants, and stepped back, watching.

"Be careful using words like doted," Triss said. "You're going to be famous after the ball, and I can guarantee a lot of girls, and a few guys, are going to want to fuck you. Hell, if you want to, just ask someone and they'll lend you their ghouls, or enthrall a few kine for the night for you."

Of all the reactions she expected from the man, she didn't expect him to look at her with the most quiet, smidgen of a frown ever.

"No thanks." He finished with the pants, and reached for the jacket as Jen handed it to him.

"No?" the Ventrue said.

"No."

Jen persisted. "Not interested in sex?"

Triss almost jumped in. Yeah, Jen was crossing some lines. The man had had a wife and a son. The chances of him not being interested in sex were pretty small. Combined with the subtle odor of masculinity Triss could smell with her vampire nose, she doubted he had any biological issue, especially considering Begotten could heal from quite a bit. Maybe not as much as Uratha or Kindred, but far as she knew, their human bodies did heal better than kine.

Sándor's gaze hardened, but only for a moment. Triss recognized that face. She'd seen it in the mirror. Something had triggered a memory in the man, but he let it go, realizing it wasn't fair to hold onto it.

"I am. But not with strangers."

The Ventrue laughed, came up behind Sándor, and turned him to face the mirror. With roaming hands, she adjusted his suit for him, tugging on his shoulders and reaching around to help slide his shirt into the pants. He let her, face emotionless and looking into the mirror. The fact he was being so standoff-ish to Jen, instead of straight up telling her to back off, was probably triggering every instinct Jen had to try and break him. Poor guy, playing hard to get and not realizing it.

"Shoulders are a bit tight," she said, "and you can't trust a tailor to fix that, in my experience. Let's find a size larger, and we'll trim down on the waist. And the sleeves, of course." Nodding, she grinned at Triss over her shoulder, before leaving to find the suit jacket in a larger size.

"Your friend is... indecent," Sándor said, voice a touch quieter.

Triss snorted on a laugh, and shrugged. "She is, but she's great. Her heart's in the right place."

"Is it?"

"You don't think so?"

"I... no, that's not what I meant. I'm just... not used to someone being so familiar with me."

Triss nodded, walked over to the man, and stood beside him to look at them both in the mirror. "She's the only reason I'm not in a cave somewhere, crying over Julias."

"I see."

"Plus, you said it's been four years since your life was fucked? That's a long time. Jen's probably thinking you're ready to move on, and get you some pussy. Because, well, Jen thinks that's how you heal any man's wounds. Good pussy."

The word pussy earned the smallest twitch of one of his eyebrows, and she snorted on a laugh again. Ok, yeah, he was a perfect straight man, and it was just too damn fun to try and crack his shell. She owed Jen an apology.

"I don't think I'll be comfortable in this city," he said. "I... I lived in a smaller city, miles from here, when Jeremiah came. A normal city."

"You're safer here. And your human half needs a place to go to eventually, right?"

"Yes."

Shrugging, she sat down in one of the fancy chairs, because everything had to be extravagant in the overpriced store, and she gestured to the man in the mirror. "Stick around for a while, at least a few weeks. The vamps will take care of you, as thanks for what you did. Kick back, relax... grieve, you know?" Four years of being brainwashed probably meant he'd never had a proper opportunity to do that. "And, once you have, move on. It's been four years. Have a little of Dolareido's primary export."

She knew she was really talking to herself, not him. Jen, you crafty slut.

His expression softened just a bit, and he looked at her through the mirror as well. "Which is?"