My Little Ventrue Pt. 07 Ch. 21

"It's not personal... mostly. Doesn't mean I won't take any chance I get to break Michael's nose in."

Sighing, Jack shrugged slightly, took another sip, and gestured to his boss with the glass. "Go ahead, if you want. All I care about is keeping people alive."

"You're still a Right Hand of the Invictus, Jack. If Michael tells you he wants me dead, what do you do? With that curse juicing you up, that's a problem."

"He won't do that."

"If he does?"

If he does, Jack could just say no. Much as Michael was still his boss, and had a thousand ways he could ruin Jack's second life, Jack was confident he--that the curse was stronger than him. But he had to be careful. If he pissed Michael off, it could lead to any number of problems, from having his account frozen, to having an Invictus sniper blow his brains out, then set his body on fire before he woke up. Strong as Jack was now, Michael was still a deadly man to deal with.

"Then... I'll fix that problem, too. Been doing that a lot, lately." More than he could tell the man.

"It's pretty fucked up that you've got this curse thing in you, kid. I already knew there was something to Viktor and Julias, but--"

"Don't," Jack said. "Don't... just don't."

Garry looked at him, and said nothing for a few moments, before he also grabbed a glass of blood from a passing waiter. "Either way, thanks for dealing with the hunters. They really were a huge problem. And for what it's worth, I'm glad you got Julias's killers. He didn't deserve to die."

"Thanks." Don't make me do to you what I did to them, Garry, please.

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~~Beatrice~~

She watched Jen's ass for a little while. Not like she stuck out doing that, when everyone else was doing it. Everyone was looking at Triss's ass, too. Well, Triss did have the bigger ass, and the dress, chosen by Jen, highlighted it nicely. It felt nice, having eyes on her, admiring her, getting horny for her. Some people noticed her freaky extra teeth where her cheeks should be, and the hunger in their eyes evaporated, the younger Kindred in particular. But, plenty of the Kindred -- and some kine -- didn't mind her extra teeth, or the snake eyes or short claws, and they watched her with brazen interest.

It felt good, to think about sex again. She knew she wouldn't be sleeping with anyone anytime soon, except maybe Jen, but it still felt nice. Lots of hunks standing around in really nice suits, many with chests showing or muscles highlighted in some way or another. Natasha's boys looked fucking great, with sleek shirts that really showed off their size. Lucky girl.

Garry looked good, too. Nice to see the old bastard playing nice, talking with Jack and not throwing any punches. Yet. She was tempted to go talk to him, but it'd probably feel kinda weird. He wasn't her boss anymore. She'd dumped him for a crazier boss, Jacob.

And Jacob, wow. The old bastard cleaned up good. He actually looked genuinely handsome, gorgeous even, with his salt and pepper hair combed back a bit so it had some body. He wasn't a muscular man, but he'd been in decent shape when embraced, and he filled out his suit well enough. And that suit, holy shit, she never expected her boss to have his own tailor. Dumb of her, now that she thought about it. Of course Jacob had a tailor. Much as he acted like he lived in the woods, the man had a bunch of connections in the city, thralls and ghouls she didn't know about, and probably a shit load of money in a bunch of different accounts.

Still, she didn't expect to see him wearing a suit that looked like it'd been made for a fashion runway last year. The odd, streamlined shape of the sash and skirt that screamed Greek or Roman, while still looking kinda like a suit, was great, and she smiled at the man's back as she admired it.

Admiration turned to nervousness, and she gulped down the lump in her throat as she made her way toward him. She had to ask about what Sándor meant, about Black Blood showing up. What happened? Why did he show up? Where the fuck was Elen?

People gave him his room, as expected, so catching him alone to talk... would be damn difficult, evidently. Avery walked over to the man, Noah at her side, and she stared coldly at the old Nos.

Beatrice came to Jacob's side, and met Noah's gaze. He met hers. The message was clear. Avery wanted to have a quick chat with Jacob, and Noah was there to make sure no one got in her way, someone like Beatrice. At least she didn't sense any direct hostility.

"Jacob," Avery said.

The old man glared at the old woman, and looked her up and down a few times. While Avery wasn't dressed to kill like everyone else, the white one-piece dress with the boob window looked great on her. If Jacob was going to insult her based on her looks, he gave up after a few seconds.

"What do you want, Avery?"

"To talk." Her eyes drifted to Beatrice, and she offered her a small nod. Yeah, the woman wanted a peaceful talk, but she knew Jacob didn't want to give it to her. At least at the ball, she had a chance of making it happen. Heh, good luck with that.

"Nothing to say to you."

"So you say. But I want to talk anyway."

Growling, the elder looked between everyone present, eyes hidden behind the bandage, and shrugged. "Yap yap, dog."

"Not going to work, Jacob. Not going to let you bait me. I want to settle the animosity between us."

"Us? You killed my lover, dog. And you still won't tell me why."

"You know she was fucking with the Gauntlet, Jacob."

"And? That tells me nothing. Still don't know why that's a bad thing, and I still don't know what exactly she was doing that warranted the assault you launched." Jacob stepped in closer, and glared down at the small woman. Didn't need visible eyes to see the glare, with how his neck muscles constricted and jaw clenched. "Was it a ritual? Did she figure out a way to bring it all down? Or maybe she was summoning something?"

"You know I can't tell you. The more people who know, the harder it makes my job, Jacob. Can't you just--"

"Just what? Take your word for it that it was a good thing, that you killed the most amazing person I've ever known? That you stripped away the best thing that'd ever happened to me?" His voice rose just enough that the Kindred nearby turned to look to them. Triss put a hand on her boss's shoulder, a soft touch, hopefully enough to warn him to lower his voice. It was. "Consider it from my point of view."

"You don't think I have? Come on, Jacob, I'm trying to work with you here. I didn't want to kill her, and Simon caused a shit load of grief for so many people. But he made the right call with her."

"Simon--"

"Is dead, Jacob. He died pissing off some fucking spirits he thought he could take on. I lost everyone because of that asshole. Christ, he's dead and gone, so can't you ease up a little here?"

Jacob stepped in even closer, and Noah and Triss both stepped up, in case they had to jump in. Not exactly a viable option, considering Jacob could kick Avery's ass, and Noah's, and Triss's, all at the same time.

"Tell me exactly what she was doing that warranted her death, and I'll consider easing off. But we know you wont, so I suggest you leave me be, mutt." And he was off. With a quiet scoff, the man stepped around Avery and Noah, and moved to the stairs that led to the second floor. No one was socializing on the balcony that circled the ballroom floor from above, and that'd make it a good place to calm down, Triss supposed.

"Beatrice," Avery said, looking to her, "can you help me out? The pack wants to stay in Dolareido, but we can't if Jacob's going to flip out and try and kill us randomly."

Triss snorted on a small laugh. "Try?"

Avery's eyes settled into a hard squint. "Yes, try. Don't underestimate the pack, Triss. Jacob may be one of the oldest vampires around, but he's a vampire. He'll always have that weakness, that solitude and inability to trust others working against him. If I send the pack at him, all of us, we'll win."

That was a terrifying image. Clara had been a serious threat to Sándor in the dream, alone, and even scarier, was how deadly the pack had been in the tunnels, fighting that spider monster months ago. Yeah, she had to give it to Avery there. Jacob might have an easy time kicking the ass of a couple werewolves, but if they all threw themselves at it him, especially the queen bitch herself Avery, it'd be a different story.

"Just, give him his space," Triss said, and before Avery could respond, she walked after Jacob.

She'd planned to jog after him, but the moment she put some real impact into the balls of her feet, she slowed it down to a walk instantly. High heels suck. High heels suuuuuuck. Catching up to Jacob took a little while, but thankfully the man came to a stop once he moved into the East balcony. He put his back to the wall, away from the balcony railing, and pointed his head down as he brooded. Even with his eyes covered, the brooding expression was obvious, frown chiseled into his lean face.

"Boss," she said. "How you doing? Haven't seen you for almost a week."

"I've been busy."

"Yeah, I can imagine." She stood next to him, back to the wall, far back enough that no one in the ballroom below could see them. "Lot of shit's happened, and you haven't been around. I've been wanting to talk to you."

"You want to know if I have Elen. You want to know if Black Blood helped me get her. He did."

Sighing, she nodded. "Did you really let me walk into fire, just so you could have a chance of getting her?"

"Yes."

Well, fuck. Nice of him to be honest about it, at least. "You couldn't have helped us?"

"I don't stick my neck out for stupid shit, Triss."

"The great and mighty Jacob, afraid he might get hurt?"

"The great and mighty Jacob, afraid he might miss his chance to get something that's got his attention."

"Elen. The flesh witch. Of course she has your attention. Sick bastard."

The man looked at her, and slowly formed a smile. "When I'm ready, I'll take you to her, Triss."

"Thanks, I guess. But I don't know what the fuck's going on. Why did you capture her?"

"Because she's a practitioner of arts similar to our own. And I know damn well you've been wondering what I've been wondering."

What she's been wondering? "Wondering... wondering if Elen could... help us perform resurrection."

"Exactly."

She shivered with the word. Resurrection. A fantasy. A dream. It was stupid to think about it, to consider it a possibility, but she'd be lying if she said it wasn't on her mind all the damn fucking time.

"You said... that you had to kill a lot of people, just to get a small peek through to the other side."

"Yep."

"And even if you could get a peek, how the fuck can you turn peek, into reaching into the... the beyond or whatever, to grab someone's... soul?"

"With a lot of experimentation and practice."

"... Black Blood. You're talking about Black Blood."

The old bastard winked at her. No eyes, but she could see the muscle of his brow and cheek flex.

"The Prince isn't the only one doing experiments with the crazy realms that lurk among our own, Beatrice. We've both been poking and prodding at the walls between realms for decades, centuries. This Elen woman is a unique opportunity."

"Because she manipulates flesh. You think she could... could..." Oh good fucking god. "You think she could be a regular Doctor Frankenstein."

"Exactly. You told me about her flesh lair, Triss. Imagine the flesh vessels she could carve. She could make any body you could think of, and then we, you and I, could reach out, pluck a soul from the beyond, and place it within."

This was a horrible place for Jacob to confirm all the things Triss had been suspecting. She couldn't freak out here, get excited or angry or anything. And there was a good chance someone might hear them. Course, if Jacob was willing to say it, it was because he didn't care if people knew, or he figured they'd have pieced it together already. Antoinette probably had.

"You think this will work?" she said.

"No."

"No?" Well, fuck.

"No. People older than me have tried this kind of stuff, Triss. Cults as ancient as mankind have tried to reach across the barrier, to grab souls, and put them back into bodies. And every mythos, when you dig deep, exposes the folly of this idea."

"Then..." She came around to look at him straight on. "Then why are you doing this?"

He grinned at her, reached out, and pat her shoulder. "Because, I want you to give it a shot."

"Me? You want me to try something that you're sure won't work?"

"Not completely sure, just mostly sure. I'm hoping you'll prove me wrong." He pushed away from the wall, and started to walk back toward the stairs. "It'll be a teaching opportunity. The best teacher is experience, after all."

She grabbed his arm. "Wait! Jacob, please, for fuck's sake, tell me what you're doing!"

"Don't worry about it for now. When it's time, I'll come for you, and you can start your experiments."

"My experiments? The fuck makes you think I'll be doing any experiments?"

Jacob turned around, and stepped in close to her. Too close. She tried to take a step back, but he stopped her, grabbing her arm and yanking her in close until they were almost kissing.

"Because I did. When Minerva died, it was all I could think about. Every fucking night, it consumed my thoughts, that maybe I could find a way to bring her back, that maybe the Crone would reward me. Every day, it's all I dreamed about. I know it haunts your thoughts too, the idea that maybe you can bring Julias back."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

"But, I... I spoke to her, remember? The Crone. She said it herself, to let him go." And that horrible, painful conversation was carved into her mind with a rusty knife. It'd be with her until she died, in every excruciating detail.

"And you'll let that stop you?"

Ah, fuck, the trigger word. 'Stop'. Someone 'stopping' her, getting in her way, blocking, preventing. It immediately made her want to fight, to be obstinate, to be a fucking child and bitch and whine until she managed to break through whatever it was stopping her. Stubborn, but not so stupid she couldn't recognize it.

Still too stupid to not let it control her, though.

"No, I guess I won't."

The old bastard grinned at her. "I'll come get you when I'm ready. I'm thinking a week or two. Depends on how long it takes to break her. Be ready."

Before she could ask what the fuck that meant, the old Nos walked away, and back down the stairs to rejoin the crowd. She didn't get to ask him about Mary. She hadn't even got to ask him about Avery, and if he was really going to let the werewolf get him so angry. It did sound like Avery was genuine, that she wanted to fix things between her and Jacob. But, until the old wolf told Jacob what Minerva was doing that warranted her death, Triss couldn't blame him for holding the grudge. Triss had been so consumed by revenge when Julias died, it dominated literally every moment of her waking life. And Jacob had known Minerva a lot longer than Triss did Julias.

Sighing, she walked over to the railing, and looked down at the crowd below. Christ, up here, it was just tits, tits everywhere. Big ones, small ones, tits tits tits. Most of the dresses the women wore had exposed necks and plunging cleavage, so, tits. And it was obviously affecting the kine they'd brought. Anyone with a heartbeat was doing their best to keep themselves under control, but as the night went on, and people got more comfortable, and drunk, it was easy to see they were getting aroused. Hell, she could smell it.

The female kine were looking at the female Kindred of course, but if Triss had to guess, they were looking at the men just as much. The male kine were mostly looking at the women, and some were looking at the men. She laughed and shrugged. Natasha would have found that interesting, the distribution of sexual preference. Triss, on the other hand, found herself licking her lips as she watched the kine grow more and more horny. It'd been so long since she'd fed and got off at the same time.

There was Vivienne, hanging out with some of the young female Invictus. With them was Carter, the older wolf dude who was staying at the same building Clara and Eric stayed in. Carter was a handsome, rugged, old man kinda dude, big and gruff. Damn handsome, in a 'I live in the woods, chop wood, built my house from wood, and can break wood with my bare hands' kinda way. There was exotic appeal in that, definitely, especially to a bunch of city girls like Invictus Kindred.

The female Uratha were getting a lot of attention too. Rumor was that Avery had a boyfriend, so they stayed clear of her, but the other girls were getting more attention than they expected. Triss knew some of their names. Erica and Brianna looked to be in their forties, but like all the werewolves, were pinnacles of fitness and athleticism. Monica, on the other hand, looked to be in her early twenties, and one male vampire was obviously hitting on her. The poor girl looked to be in a daze, and not from any Discipline. The air smelled of sex. Not gross sex, like a couple's bedsheets that hadn't been washed in weeks. It smelled of sex like a great cologne or perfume might. It was affecting the Kindred, and that meant it was probably affecting the werewolves ten times more, considering how stronger their noses were, and how they couldn't turn off their biology like vampires did.

She looked around her, and gulped down the rising sadness. She'd talked to Julias on this balcony. At the time, she'd worn a veil over her face to hide her mouth, because she'd thought her crocodile teeth were ugly. And, well, they kinda were, but most Kindred didn't mind. Julias had helped her see past her own infatuation with misery, and consider that maybe her second life didn't need to suck so much.

And then he died.

She growled to herself, grit her teeth, and shook her head hard. Stop it. Stop it, just let him go. The fucking Crone herself, or whatever that thing was, told you to let him go. Don't let yourself go down this road.

She looked around again, and the memories sucker punched her. It was this spot that brought it all back, the feel of his arms around her, the way he smiled, the god damn mother fucking sound of his voice.

If Jacob really was offering even the possibility that she could bring him back, then she had to try.

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~~Eric~~

Good fucking god.

"Good fucking god," Jessy said. "Look at these sluts."

Eric choked on a laugh, but nodded as he looked around. "Um, yeah, I guess people did get a little crazy. Like, you know, you did."

"I'm over fifty years embraced. I'm allowed to do whatever I want. But I see a bunch of neonates just putting their tits out like rotisserie chickens. And look at all these dudes, showing off their abs. No class."

Eric looked at Jessy's dress, which was just a bunch of horizontal black straps connected at the front by a zigzagging string, and a thong that hid her sex. Then he looked down at his own, slightly see-through black shirt that was unbuttoned down to his navel.

"Uh--"

"You're my date. If I wanted to, I could fuck you right there in the middle of floor, and no one except for five people could say shit. I have the power, so I get to flaunt! Them's the rules."

Five people? Antoinette, the sheriff, her sire Michael, and probably Maria. And? Oh, probably Jacob. Well, he was a scary bastard, and commanded as much respect as the Prince in his own, strange way. Eric was perfectly content staying on his good side.

"So the people at the top get to flaunt. People at the bottom should be more conservative?"

"Exactly."

"I get the impression Antoinette would disagree. I think she'd prefer everyone feel comfortable doing whatever they wanted, sexually speaking."