My Little Ventrue Pt. 07 Ch. 22

"He doesn't reciprocate?"

"He does not reciprocate with anyone." Shrugging, Antoinette stepped around him again, and smiled down at him. "You believe Elaine wishes to learn more of your curse."

"I assume you told her about it. Or that she's here to look into whatever summoned those crows that showed up on the news."

"I did tell her, weeks ago. I trust her with much, my love. Though, I would trust her with my life, before I trusted her with all my secrets; professional rivalry, you see. Many in the Ordo have dealt with strange phenomena, such as this curse that plagues you."

"Yeah, I would have told her too, if I were you." Sighing, he looked down, and stared at his shoes. How to handle this? What to do?

"Something bothers you, my love, something to do with Elaine. What is it? If she is being too direct about her desire to partake of you sexually, that--"

"No no, that's not it. Er, well, I mean... I got the impression she enjoyed making me squirm." He couldn't help but smile as he looked up at his love. "Easy to see how you two get along."

"Ah oui. Birds of a feather." She leaned down, and kissed him proper, lips to lips. And of course, she didn't close her eyes when she did, keeping them open a crack, until he eventually closed his. "If it is not her sexuality that has frazzled you, what has? It seemed as if you knew something, something I do not."

He could keep it a secret. Antoinette wouldn't even hold it against him if he did, not really. The Danse Macabre was played by everyone, and that meant he should always make decisions with that in mind. But now that Julias was gone, he didn't have anyone to come to with this. Everyone else was a friend, but Antoinette was a genuine force, a powerful figure in the Danse, and most of all, someone whose motivations he trusted.

"It can wait. Tell you later tonight? She can come, too." Might as well tell them both, since Antoinette trusted Elaine so much.

"I suppose I must acquiesce." Laughing again, she kissed his ear, and started to walk. He was expected to follow, and he did. After all the shit that'd happened to him the past few months, he was damn happy to shut off his brain for a while, and do whatever Antoinette wanted.

Except, he couldn't stop thinking about Elaine. And sure, some of that was because she'd basically offered herself up to him and Antoinette, sexually speaking. But his thoughts kept pulling to the elephant in the room: she was his great grandsire, and her curse was gone. Great grandsire! Curse, gone!

He settled his mind for a moment, and waited for the twisted thing in his guts to speak up. Nothing. He was sure the curse would start talking, but it said nothing. Afraid, maybe, of Elaine? She was a walking, talking example of someone from his bloodline who no longer had the curse; assuming it was the woman from his vision, and not some identical twin. It damn well better be afraid. Now that the hunters were gone, he didn't need the curse.

He looked to Elaine again, who had found Daniel, and was proceeding to get up in his face until she was almost nose to nose with him. Daniel wouldn't back down, but it was clear he wasn't interested, or his poker face was amazing. Considering how gorgeous Elaine was, Jack bet on the former.

Antoinette did her rounds. She always made sure to check up on every single Kindred she could whenever she hosted, or came to a ball. Maybe it was to personally insure every vampire in her city was afraid of her; a little fear was healthy. Maybe it was so she would always be able to identify people by their faces if the need ever arose. Maybe it was because she genuinely enjoyed getting to personally meet every single Kindred in her city. He couldn't imagine it being that, but the fuck did he know, antisocial as he was.

They found his mom after a while, Ashley and Julee sticking with her like cute bodyguards. Natasha, Arturo, and Matthew were introducing her to the rest of the Uratha. And the Uratha, were getting quite drunk.

"Jack!" his mom said, joining him in what seemed like an effort to escape some heavy gazes. While the Kindred at the ball weren't Blushing Life, so they could keep their hormones out of the picture, the Uratha had no such option. When a woman in a revealing dress starts talking to you, he couldn't blame any dude -- or gal -- from kinda staring.

"Mom. I see you met Avery, Matthew, Arturo, Monica, Brianna, Caleb, Noah, Clara, Erica, Carter, and Mason -- and Tilly." Tilly, dressed in a red dress that hugged her body so tight, every curve was visible, stood with Mason, a grin on her face. At least, until she saw him. The grin vanished, replaced with a mix of trepidation and concern. Another vampire who was afraid of him.

There were a few more in the pack, but they weren't there, out mingling with the rest of the crowd.

Avery smirked at him. "Think you can charm me by memorizing our names?"

"It's a start, isn't it?" He returned the woman's smirk, before looking to Antoinette.

"Avery," the Prince said, "I hope you and your family are enjoying the ball."

"We are," she said. "Jacob's still being an asshole though. I'm trying, Prince, really trying to make nice and play nice, but that fucker's going to throw a punch eventually."

Frowning, Jack looked around until he spotted Jacob. He was speaking with Beatrice again, and the rest of his witches, who'd left the hunters now. Sándor wasn't far off, but Jen had let him go, probably so she could speak with her fellow witches and her boss. That might have been a mistake, considering several women had taken the opportunity to approach the Begotten now. Jack would have been tempted to save him, but it was clear that the women were getting nowhere, unable to break the man's cold exterior.

He looked around until he found Damien. He was with Jessy and Eric, and he looked a bit sad. No Fiona yet. Maybe no Fiona at all. Much as that'd suck, he was glad Athalia wasn't--

"Now arriving, Begotten Fiona Young, and Begotten Athalia Gardner."

Antoinette threw up a hand, and somehow, someone somewhere saw the cue, and stopped the band. Everyone froze and turned. Just like when Antoinette arrived, the silence was deafening, the only sound the rubbing of fabrics as everyone looked at the front door. Athalia, and Fiona.

Damn it.

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~~Damien~~

He raised his head, looked to the door, and smiled.

Fiona came down the stairs a little faster than was probably expected. No slow, sexy walk for her. She bounced the whole way down, which of course, was damn sexy in its own way. In the tight red dress, it meant lots and lots of jiggling. Red? Darker. Burgundy? It contrasted her pale skin and freckles beautifully, and her big mountain of frizzy red hair matched it nicely as her curls sat on her bare shoulders. The dress had ruffled off-shoulder straps, and the chest hugged her breasts tight with cups of the thin fabric that showed the shape of her nipples. The skirt was long, but the split nearly reached her hip. She had burgundy shoes, too.

No way did she have clothes like that lying around. Someone had to help her get those. Maybe Athalia? Fiona had worn a purple dress to the last party, something classy but with plenty of cleavage, and an open back. That dress had hung loosely, but the burgundy thing she was wearing was a lot tighter, and was actively pressing her breasts up and together. As she practically hopped down the stairs, her breasts bounced up and down on top of their cups, to they point they almost leapt out of them. Lord, give him strength.

"Damien!" she called out, fully ignoring the fact the ball had gone quiet. She jogged over to him, nearly tripped in her heels, recovered, and continued. Once she got to him, she threw her arms around him and pulled him down for a kiss. Not a small peck on the cheek, but a big kiss, long, dramatic, and one that demanded he hug her in return, half just to keep from falling over. His hands found her naked back, and he groaned quietly into her lips.

"Fiona," he said once she released him. "I'm glad you came. Did Azamel get in the way?"

"Nae! She was angry, sure, but nae angry enough to stop me. We're late cause I had to convince Athalia to come."

Damien slowly lifted his gaze from her, to Athalia, and did his best to keep a frown off his face. He succeeded, but he knew Fiona could see the coldness set in his eyes. He felt it, too.

Athalia wore a black dress, and while Damien would have expected a black dress on Athalia, something meant for mourning, this one was not. It was gorgeous, a strapless, tight thing with some ruffles along its front and cleavage. The skirt reached her ankles, no split, and the cleavage wasn't ridiculous like everyone else's tonight. Modest, by Dolareido standards. Her long black hair was tied into a braid behind her head, and her eyes were just as cold as Damien's felt.

She didn't want to be here.

With a slow breath, Athalia took a step down the stairs. The clack of her heels echoed in the silence. With each step, she glared around at the crowd, as if daring them to say something, daring them to confront her, daring them to make something of her arrival. No one said a word. No one moved. The only movement was Daniel, who stepped away from Elaine, and joined Athalia at the bottom of the stairs. For a moment, Damien thought his fellow Mekhet might attack her, cut her to bits, or kick her out. But, a small glimpse of his eyes past his glasses showed something Damien had never seen on the man, ever, except when Lucas had held Tash hostage. Compassion.

Daniel held out a hand for her. With a heavy sigh, she took it.

Just when everyone started to relax, someone else stepped out from the crowd. Samantha. Oh no. Damien stared at the young Daeva as she made her way across the ballroom floor, dripping of anxiety and fear. Jack came up behind her, but she turned and glared at him. For all her obvious fear, she wanted to do this alone, that much was clear. Poor Jack. The kid backed off, and stood with Antoinette again.

Antoinette. Damien had almost forgotten about her in the moment, but when he looked at her, he could see a small smile on her lips, her eyes locked on her childe. Pride, in her childe and the courage she'd mustered. All Samantha's courage did was make Damien expect the worst, but he was Mekhet, that was his nature. But, that awareness didn't mean he was about to lower his guard, as the fledgling Daeva approached the shadow monster.

"Athalia," she said, once she was close enough. She had to look up to meet the monster's gaze. "I'm Samantha Terry." The ballroom was completely silent, no movement, no music, and everyone could hear their words clearly.

"... I see." Athalia's gaze lowered for a few, long, painful seconds, before meeting the vampire's again. She opened her mouth, ready to say something, but the words died in her throat. Eye contact died seconds later, and her eyes fell again as her shoulders slumped.

Ten seconds went by. Ten long, horrible seconds, the only sounds the breathing of those with working lungs in the ball. Ten seconds of Athalia, frozen, staring at the floor, while Samantha looked at her.

Samantha spread her arms, reached out, and hugged the woman.

The tension in the room melted away. A lot of held breaths released, and people began to stir around, quiet whispers turning into murmured conversations, as people watched the strange scene. Samantha whispered to Athalia, and combined with the returned noise, Damien couldn't make it out. But the look of palpable relief on Athalia's face said more than words ever could.

Samantha was too nice, way too nice, nicer than even Fiona, and that was saying a lot. But, maybe that's what the city needed, because after what happened less than a week ago, it was amazing to see Samantha crack Athalia's rage and sorrow with nothing more than a hug. After a few seconds, Athalia returned the hug, and blinked away some rising tears.

"I thought so," Fiona whispered up to Damien.

"You thought so?"

"Aye. After what we saw at her home, with Mary and Jack, I knew Samantha was a kind lass. Took a while to convince Athalia it'd be awright to come."

Damien smiled down at Fiona, and pulled her into a half hug beside him. If it'd been him, he'd have told Athalia to stay away. There was no reason to risk something like this. Except, there was. It never crossed his mind that maybe, by having the two women interact, that closure could be found for both of them, or that he should even be concerned about that. But seeing the two meet and speak with each other, seeing something meaningful happen, seeing -- practically feeling -- untold tensions he would never be able to appreciate, dissipate before his eyes, was moving.

He looked to Jack again, and smiled. The kid looked back to him, rolled his eyes, but smiled too. No need to say it, Damien could tell what he was thinking. His mom's niceness worked, this time. It might not work the next time.

The crowd resumed their conversations. The heaviness that had hung in the air was gone, and Damien could feel how lighter everything grew, how free. Like a bunch of children with no cares or concerns for tomorrow, people started talking louder, laughing, and smiling. The band started playing again, and picked a happier classical piece.

"La finta giardiniera overture," he said.

"What?" Fiona said.

"Uh, a piece by Mozart."

The redhead beamed up at him. "Ye listen to classical music?"

"Maria makes me. There's a lot more depth to classical music than modern, and she insists I develop my ear."

Fiona swooned, an exaggerated and playful, half sarcastic sound. "Yer so deep."

He rolled his eyes, took Fiona's hand, and made his way toward Jack. A glance to Samantha and Athalia showed they were still talking, and with Daniel next to them, Damien figured he could relax. If something happened, the sheriff would deal with it, and judging from the expression on Athalia's face, nothing would. Her rage was broken, defeated by Samantha's kindness and compassion. For now at least.

"My Prince," Damien said as they arrived. "Mister Terry."

"Mister Burksen," Antoinette said, eyes settling on him with a balance of disdain and appreciation. Yeah, she didn't like the Lancea et Sanctum, and him by extension, but she appreciated his existence. Better than nothing. "Miss Young, I am glad you could come. I see that you brought Athalia under better circumstances than I could have imagined."

"Aye! I convinced her to come, but 'twas Athalia who calmed down on her own." Sighing, the young girl shook her head and shuddered a little. "She was so sad, ye ken? When I told her 'twas Samantha who invited her, she didnae know what tae do! But," Fiona scooped a glass of red wine, did a quick sniff test to make sure it wasn't blood, and took a deep sip, "but she came. I'm glad. Maybe the two of them can become friends?"

Antoinette looked doubtful, but she looked to her childe and the shadow monster on the ballroom floor with consideration, before looking down at the tiny redhead. "Perhaps. My childe could become friends with a stone, if the stone was willing to share a word with her. The question is, will Athalia be capable of doing so."

Jack laughed, nodded, and took a sip of his own drink. "I'm glad I was wrong. I'm glad I... I'm glad."

"Should ye talk to her?" Fiona said. "Athalia, I mean. She might--"

"No no, no, bad idea." Shaking his head, Jack downed his drink, and grabbed another one as a waitress came by. To Damien's surprise, someone had undone a few buttons of the server's shirt, exposing a black bra underneath the white fabric. Good Lord, it was happening already. "I... I think we should give Athalia her space. The fact she came is a miracle, and after... after what happened, I'm sure it'll be weeks before me or Triss can say a word to her, without it escalating."

Damien nodded. "Makes sense. Let's leave her be, and--"

"Who tae fuck is that lass?" Fiona downed her drink, and stared off into the crowd. "The tall one, with the tits!"

While Antoinette laughed and rolled her eyes, Damien saw the wince on Jack's face. Damien had noticed before, when Elaine first stepped into the Black Hall, that Jack had reacted to her presence differently than Damien figured he'd would. Considering the woman was Antoinette's close, personal friend, it probably meant Jack would get to see Elaine naked in short time, and likely more. Something to be excited about, considering the sexual Olympics Antoinette enjoyed. But Jack hadn't looked excited. He'd looked shocked, and worried.

"That is my friend, Elaine of the Ordo Dracul," the Prince said. "Elder, and Ventrue."

"Does she know we can see through her dress?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Awright then." Fiona grabbed another glass from a waiter, did a double take at the waiter's exposed chest, and downed half her new glass of red. "I see we're having one of thoooose parties."

"Do pace yourself, little Begotten." Antoinette made a small gesture to the glass in Fiona's hand. "I will throw you to the street if you vomit on my floors."

Fiona scoffed, but didn't down the other half of her drink. "Awright awright."

Damien laughed. Too cute. Poor girl looked heartbroken.

Jack looked past them to Elaine again, and Damien followed his gaze to the Ventrue. She really was utterly gorgeous, a tall blonde with large curves despite her thin waist. If it wasn't for the rumors about her, about how dangerous of a dragon she was, Isabella probably would have been over there already to recruit her for her show.

"Antoinette," Jack said, "do you mind if I speak with Jacob?"

"Hmm. Be careful, my love. The old snake has been missing quite a bit, since the incident. I am sure he is up to something."

"Yeah, agreed. Damien, back me up?"

Damien nodded. "Fiona, can you--"

"I'll take her," Jessy said. The Gangrel came up to join them, slipped an arm over his girlfriend's shoulders, and grinned down at her. "Fiona and I haven't talked in ages."

"I saw ye at Bloodlust a week ago!"

"Ages." Nodding, Jessy took Fiona with one arm, Eric with another, and guided them in the direction of Isabella. If Damien had to guess, Jessy was going to show Fiona off for her fellow Invictus. And based on the looks Isabella gave Fiona as they approached, it was working.

"Your girlfriend is gorgeous," Jack said, smiling at him as the two of them made their way toward Jacob.

"She is. I'm very lucky." He was tempted to compliment Antoinette as well, but it seemed pointless. They'd talked about her absurd beauty before, and considering how Antoinette was dressed, any compliment seemed almost like an insult. The Prince was beautiful, unnaturally so. The white hair, red eyes, and unusual... proportions, weren't natural. Bringing up her beauty always felt strange to him, as if broaching a subject the Prince might find offensive.

She certainly was beautiful, no doubt about that, like some mythical entity from a bygone era. But Damien preferred the very real, lovely Fiona, to the almost monolithic presence of the white-haired dragon.

"Think Isabella will recruit Fiona?" Jack said.

"Potentially? I hadn't thought about it."

"Isabella's plays can get pretty sexual. And I'm sure she'd love to have a tiny, curvy redhead in her crew."

A hint of something Damien had rarely felt, but instantly recognized, shot up his spine, hot and unwanted. Jealousy. It was not a sensation he was used to. Thoughts of Eric and Fiona being together before Damien was with her did spark the feeling, a little. Thinking of Isabella doing things to Fiona also sparked the feeling, and the feeling increased as he thought about the crafty Daeva manipulating his girlfriend.

"I trust Fiona," he said.

Jack laughed and shrugged. "I didn't think it was a matter of trust, at least not Fiona's. Isabella, on the other hand... well, she is a Daeva, and I wouldn't put it past her to try a little Majesty on Fiona."