My Little Ventrue Pt. 08 Ch. 01

~~Jack~~

"It's been a long time," Michael said, and he pushed open the door.

Jack, Jessy, and Damien followed. The leader of the Invictus, and the three Right Hands, together, in the home of Viktor Honors, and then later, Julias Mire. A beautiful mansion, very Victorian, with its grand entrance room and big wooden stairway with fancy railings. Hell, there was a chandelier.

It was very Viktor. It was very not Jack.

Michael stepped over to the stairs, but didn't go up. Instead, he leaned back against a railing as he folded his arms across his chest, and looked at Jack.

"As you've probably already guessed, Mister Terry, your victory against the hunters has earned you enough status to own Mister Honors's home."

"Julias's home," Jessy said. She shut up pretty quick though, when her sire glared at her.

Michael was an imposing man, big, tall, strong, with a shaved head, a nose piercing, and hints of tattoos here and there hidden under his suit. Piercings and tattoos on someone like Beatrice made them look punk and new age; not on Michael. On him, they seemed more like battle scars. He looked like a strange mix of a street fighter, and mafia boss, especially in his expensive suit.

In the past, Jack was terrified of him. He could still remember the night he met him, the same night he met Viktor and Maria, the same night he'd died, and was reborn as a vampire. Well over two years ago, holy fuck. Felt like yesterday, or an eternity ago. Which made the contrast in strength he felt between himself and Michael now, all the more powerful. Back then, his Beast had cowered in the presence of the elders. Now, he knew, if he had to fight Michael, he could.

He could destroy his boss, if he had to.

But that wasn't how the game was played. It wouldn't help Jack in any way to kill Michael, and not only that, Michael had a million connections. The man was smart, and probably had several contingency plans for dealing with Jack, including plans that'd be set off if Jack killed him. It was a smart idea to still fear the man. Plus, it'd only hurt Jack in the long run to kill his boss. He was an ally.

Ugh, he hated thinking thoughts like this. Power corrupts. At least the ravenous, insane rage and malevolence of the curse no longer infected his personality subtly. Nope, now it rode around in his head as a second personality. Lovely.

"Thank you, Mister McDonald," he said. "I... I believe I know why you've been hesitant to give me this mansion."

"Oh?" A small smile graced the man's lips. "Do tell."

"I have no thralls or ghouls." The closest he had were Scully and Mulder. They waited on the mansion's rooftop as the vampires spoke, and were utterly useless in keeping a mansion in good condition.

His boss's smile grew. "That is the primary reason, yes. Do you plan to change that?"

"I don't know if I should. I've never given my blood to another." He glanced back to Damien and Jessy, who waited quietly. Damien didn't have any thralls or ghouls either, but Mekhet often didn't. They usually flew solo. Jessy, on the other hand, had four ghouls, and probably some thralls Jack didn't even know about. But she didn't have a curse to worry about.

Ventrue lent to thralls and ghouls more than the other bloodclans. Even the Daeva didn't rely on having an army like the Ventrue did. Until Jack started building up a host of thralls, and maybe even ghouls, he wouldn't really be a Ventrue.

"Your sire, and grandsire," Damien said to him, "had ghouls and thralls. Were any of them a problem?"

Jessy shook her head. "Nope. Regular dudes and dudettes."

Sighing, Jack took a single step, and stopped. "It's not the same. The curse was sealed inside them. It's not in me, not anymore."

The room went quiet, and they all stood there for a few moments. Yeah, much as they were all damn happy the hunters were no longer a threat, the curse still was. It made every conversation where it came up get kinda awkward.

"The mansion is yours, Mister Terry," Michael continued. "As much as Madam Turio and I don't think it's a good idea to give it to you, you've earned it. Now, see to it that you do not insult your station. Acquire some thralls or ghouls to maintain it."

Jack nodded, and did his best to keep the sour expression off his face. He could Dominate some people and turn them into thralls, but using Dominate, especially on an innocent kine, would be like using a wrecking ball to open a screen door. The curse was liable to really hurt someone.

But there was another way to create a thrall. A serving of blood bent the mind of anyone, kine or Kindred, to liking the owner of said blood. A second serving, and they adored the owner. A third serving, and they became bound in the Vinculum, completely devoted or obsessed with their new master.

To create a ghoul was a similar process, except he'd have to infuse his vitae into his blood, to give the ghoul their special properties. Immortality, great regenerative abilities, and supposedly, even some minor Kindred ability if they lived long enough.

Julias gently used Dominate to create his thralls. Viktor likely enjoyed breaking kine with the Vinculum. The stark contrast between them was a painful reminder of Jack's circumstance, and he sighed as he looked down at one of his hands. He wouldn't be able to do things the way Julias did, not until he got rid of the curse, and he had no idea if that was even possible. And doing things the way Viktor did might be dangerous. Who knew what his blood would do if he fed it to someone.

If he wanted to keep the mansion, Michael was right, he needed thralls. It would be very unbecoming an Invictus to own a mansion, and let it fall into disrepair. Image was everything to the Invictus.

"I will figure something out, Mister McDonald."

"See that you do." And with that, the big guy nodded, and left.

After a heavy sigh, Jack sat down on the stairs, a few from the bottom. Damien and Jessy joined him, sitting on either side of him, and before Damien could say anything, Jessy pat him on the shoulder.

"New digs! Sweet."

Jack frowned at her. "Your sire's right. I can't keep a big fucking mansion unless I'm willing to... you know." So much easier to keep a nice, big apartment in good condition, than a fucking mansion. He hired a cleaner to take a trip through his place once a week, and even that was unnecessary. A mansion was a completely different beast, and this one had some dark secrets that demanded it be tended by thralls and ghouls, not hired help.

The Gangrel shrugged as she looked around. "Is this an ethics thing? You know there's plenty of humans in the city you can convince to accept the Vinculum before they've even had a taste, right? Just dangle the carrot of immortality in front of them, and bam, you have a thrall. If they're good at their job, upgrade them to ghoul. If they're good at that, someday, sire them."

Groaning, Jack got up, and started down the right hall. Damien and Jessy followed, and he opened a door that led further into the house. He knew his way around the mansion, a little at least, enough to know how to find things like the kitchen, some of the reading rooms, guest rooms, recreation rooms. They were all absurdly fancy. Made him think of Disney's Beauty and the Beast, the interior of the castle in the cartoon movie.

"I can't say I really like the idea of doing that," he said, drifting from room to room. "I mean, yeah, I get it, I'm not human anymore and I need to stop thinking of myself as one. But even then, I don't know what'll happen if I give a kine my blood."

Jessy shrugged as she followed behind him. "You can just give it back, you know; the mansion, I mean. No one expects a vampire your age to manage a place like this. You're what, three years embraced?"

"Not even."

"Well there ya go. If anything, Michael gave you this mansion so you'd try and own it, fuck up somehow, and then he'd get to knock you down a peg on the social ladder."

Ah, right, the Danse Macabre. Michael wasn't his friend, not really, and Jack would be stupid to just blindly accept anything the man did for him.

"Yeah, you're right. I'll... think of something." He picked a random room, one with fancy couches and fancy tables and fancy curtains, and threw himself onto a couch, on his stomach, face down in the cushions.

"How did last night go?" Damien said.

"Yeah!" Jessy jumped onto the couch with him, and didn't bother to control her landing. Her ass drove straight down into his back, and he yelped as he flopped like a fish.

"It... it went well, I guess," he said, frowning up over his shoulder at her. She didn't move, and grinned down at him.

"Better than well, yeah? That Elaine chick was totally into you."

Damien smiled slightly, but shook his head. "I'm not sure it's simple attraction, Jessy. I got the impression she knew Jack, or maybe, knew something about him." Subtle smile unwavering, Damien crouched down by Jack's head. Pinned as Jack was, it almost felt like he was a captive, being interrogated. "And it looked like you knew her too, Jack."

Jack rolled his eyes, and let his cheek collapse against the arm of the chair. "Yeah, kinda. I recognized her from the memories the curse showed me." No point in lying to these two, not about this. "She's my great grandsire. Viktor's sire."

The other two Right Hands looked at each other, eyes wide, then stared down at him.

"Seriously?" Jessy said. "Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"Then, the curse?" Damien asked.

"She's not cursed. I don't know how she got rid of it, and she's not sure either. It was hundreds of years ago, and the best she has is some journals from way back when that might help us figure it out."

Jessy got up, and eyed him, like he'd said something stupid. "And you believe she wants to help you? Out of the goodness of her heart?" Ok, yeah, maybe he had said something stupid. If Michael gave him a mansion as a way of manipulating him into a bad position, Elaine helping him might fit the same bill. But, why would she try and sabotage him? Made no sense.

Jack sat up and shrugged. "She's Antoinette's closest friend, save for maybe Daniel. The Prince trusts her. But I'm not stupid enough to think she's come to Dolareido just to help me out. She's up to something. I don't think she's trying to ruin me or anything, but she's definitely up to something."

Now that there was room on the couch, Jessy sat down next to him, and her grin widened. "And?"

"And what?"

"And, how was last night? She looked like she wanted to fuck you."

"I--"

"Maybe fuck's not the right word. She looked like she wanted to tie you up and do sexy things to you, in that mothery way Antoinette does. Strict, but tender, I guess?"

"Hey! Antoinette does not mother me." He looked to Damien for support.

Damien offered no support.

"No no! It's cool, Jack," Jessy said. "Everyone's got their kinks. You know how many girls got a daddy kink? Hint: fuckloads. No one's judging you for having a mommy thing."

He facepalmed. This wasn't happening. "I don't have a mommy kink!"

"Come on, you can't lie to me. I bet Antoinette just loves to pamper the shit out of you, right? Smiles at you sweetly and strokes your hair while you fuck her tits? Or says you've been a bad boy, ties you up, and fucks you in a I'm-in-charge-but-I'm-gentle kinda way?"

He raised a hand, finger pointed. And, lowered the hand. "Let the record show, that at no point have I ever called her mom, or mommy, and she's never called me son."

Damien choked on a laugh, and Jessy didn't bother trying to hide her laughter.

"Ok ok," she said. "I believe ya. So, Antoinette's friend, Elaine. She join ya?" He rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Dude, that is epic. Two elders in the bed? The two of them combined have probably seen more sex than God. Or, you know, Satan."

Damien coughed, bothered by the 'God' comment, but watched and listened, evidently interested.

Jack offered him a knowing glare. If he wanted to, he could call out how at least a few dozen people had seen him fucking Fiona last night. The glare was enough though, and Damien coughed again as he looked away.

"Ok, yes, I admit it, Antoinette loves to pamper me. And she and Elaine are very similar, and... enjoy doing a lot of things together." A lot lot lot of things.

"Knew it," Jessy said. "Bet you spent the whole evening being smothered in giant boobs. Christ that Elaine is stacked. Makes a girl envious." She frowned down at her own boobs hidden inside her suit, and Jack rolled his eyes. Jessy had large breasts, especially for a woman as fit and muscular as her. Just, not as large as Elaine's.

He stuck his tongue out at her. "And you? Still failing to get more legs in your bed?" Welp, if Jessy was going to steer the conversation into sex, like she so often did, he was going to tease her about her own, failed attempts to corrupt Eric.

"... yes. The dude is just thoroughly uninterested in indulging those fantasies I know damn well every man has."

Jack shrugged at that. "I mean, yeah, not gonna lie, multiple girls with one guy is pretty awesome, but like I've said before, some of my best nights with Antoinette are the best specifically because we enjoy each other without Ashley or Julee... or Elaine now, I suppose. We can be romantic. Not that we're not romantic when they're with us, but it's much easier to be very romantic and intimate when alone."

"Ugh, I suck at this romance thing." She threw up her hands before letting her arms collapse on her knees with a slap. "Like, how the fuck do you... do the romance thing? I mean, I hang out with Eric all the time, but I don't really do lovey dovey."

Jack smiled. That wasn't true. Much as Jessy was a very outgoing hornball who struggled with the quieter aspects of socializing, and had a somewhat masculine personality, that didn't mean softer parts of her didn't come out. When Julias died, Jack had seen her express them in her own, strange ways. And Eric was a smart guy. He probably picked up on them, in ways Jessy didn't even know about.

"How... how do you know if you love someone?" she added. Both guys froze, and she threw her hands up again. "I've been seeing Eric for a while, right? A long while, longer than I have any other guy. I mean... fuck, I don't know. I don't do dating! I just know that I want to keep him. Hell, I'm even trying to help his dad get out of the hospital."

"How?" Damien asked.

"Gonna show him my tits if he manages to get his lazy, fat ass together."

Damien and Jack facepalmed, in unison.

Jessy frowned at them. "And Eric and I have said... like, almost said the words, you know? It's just hard! I don't know what the fuck to do."

Damien held up his hands and took a step back. "I'm the last person to ask. My relationship with Fiona is still new, and I know less about romance than you."

That left Jack as the only one with any experience in this area. Except his relationship was anything but normal, even relative to Jessy and Damien's, and for him to describe how love felt was like trying to describe a color someone had never seen.

"When I said the words to Antoinette, it was after I killed Lucas." He glanced to Damien, and caught the man's eyes looking down at the mention of his sire. "It was when I realized that I couldn't live without her. Antoinette and I have a pretty strange relationship. She's so much older than me, and we connect over odd things. No way we talk about the same things you two talk about with your lovers. But, that night, I realized that if she died, I'd be devastated. I couldn't let it happen."

"I nearly killed you," Damien said.

Jack shrugged. "Yeah, you did." That was then, an era past. "Bygones."

The Mekhet smiled, but before he could reply, Jessy jumped in again.

"I... haven't thought about what it'd be like if Eric died. I mean, I have, but I haven't, you know? When Julias died, I felt so bad for Beatrice, but I never really thought about it happening to me."

"It won't happen to anyone anymore," he said before he could stop himself. "The hunters are gone. And--"

Jessy got up, and headed for the door. "I'm going to see Eric. Dumbass is visiting his dad tonight. I should do a surprise visit, see how his pop is doing."

Damien and Jack smiled at each other, and followed after her. Jessy probably didn't realize what she was doing right now was romantic. To her, she was just being her usual, impulsive self. It was obvious Eric liked that impulsive, aggressive woman, and also liked it when she was being impulsive and aggressive.

Back at the front door, Jessy threw up her hands again, this time in a cheer as she opened it. "Hey! No more sweeps, right? I'm going to run to the hospital, alone, for the fucking fun of it." And before Damien or Jack could say anything, she slammed the door behind her. Thud. It resonated, shaking the whole house, and Jessy popped her head back in a moment later. "Holy shit, this thing really goes boom. Sorry!" She closed the door again, and was gone.

Damien and Jack laughed, and sat down on the stairs again. Jack could continue on the tour of the mansion, but he knew Damien didn't care. He didn't care, either. Just a bunch of empty rooms now, empty and meaningless. Part of him thought maybe he should have felt more attached to this place, but Julias hadn't owned it very long. All it was to Jack, was a big house that'd be a huge pain in the ass to take care of.

"Elaine is your great grandsire," Damien said, eyes on the door Jessy had just closed, and his elbows on his knees.

"Yeap."

"And she shares in Antoinette's... sexual preferences, and activities?"

Jack snorted on a laugh. "Yeah. The two of them are quite a pair. If I were human, I'd be dead."

"It makes me wonder how your relationship with Antoinette functions."

"What do you mean?"

The Mekhet shrugged, eyes still on the door. "Jessy and Eric have similar interests, and are at least somewhat of a similar age. Fiona and I don't, but that's mostly a case of me having done so little for half a century. She's exposing me to new things all the time. She enjoys doing it, and, I admit, I enjoy that. She has so much joy to share, and..."

And Damien had a reservoir of misery to shed. Jack smiled at the man, before he let his gaze drift to the door as well. It was easy to forget sometimes that Damien spent fifty years hiding and sneaking around in Dolareido, waiting for the day he could get revenge. When the opportunity had come, he'd become a lot wiser over half a century, and had seen past Lucas's madness. But, too late. The only reason he still walked the night, was Daniel and Natasha.

The man was racked with guilt, and plenty of self loathing. Fiona didn't know the meaning of those words, and was happy to pull the man up into a happier place.

"I getcha," Jack said. "With Antoinette, it's... it's strange. There's a lot of things you find in normal relationships you don't find in ours. She's not interested in having fun conversations where we could trade silly stories about our pasts. She's not interested in chilling on a couch and watching a movie, unless it's profound."

"Those are things Fiona and I do quite a bit. Jessy and Eric too, I imagine, trading silly stories and watching movies on a couch."

"Yeah, exactly. But, with the Prince, I can sit down and have a conversation about... storytelling techniques, and she's instantly engaged. We'll have a back and forth about it, comparing points, and she'll counter me with examples from history. Or maybe I'll get stuck on an existential thought, you know? And when I bring it to her, she doesn't just try and humor me or stare blankly. She engages, and challenges my mind. When I bring up music, she doesn't throw up her hands with enthusiasm and squeal about her favorite band. Instead, she talks about different musicians, different instruments, different playstyles, and we compare the things that strike a chord with us." He didn't stop to draw attention to the pun. And Damien didn't draw attention to it either. No friend in the world is as good a friend, as one who ignores puns.