My Little Ventrue Pt. 08 Ch. 16

"He is a loving man who seeks to save all those he can. You have not seen him, as I have, Madam Turio, racked with grief."

"You honestly expect me to believe Jack regrets killing Lucas?"

Ah, there it was. To get the Nosferatu to admit the true nature of the conversation, and abandon subtext, was the first chip in her armor. To convince her, Antoinette would need more.

"I expect you to use your eyes, consider what you know of Jack, and to combine that with what I am telling you. The boy--"

If Maria had arms, she would have slammed them on her desk.

"You! You, who first attempted to take Lucas's life, fifty years ago. You, who set a purge upon the Lancea et Sanctum. You, who slaughtered Kindred old and new alike, because they had the nerve to believe in God! You expect me, to listen to your poisoned words?"

Antoinette leaned back, and let the woman's wrath pour over her. It was a familiar rage, one Antoinette knew from many strifes in her past; the details were lost, but the emotions were unforgettable, seared into her mind. Maria felt rage she could not reconcile, rage that fought against her reason and judgment, against her wisdom and experience. Rage that had burned for decades, and would not be crushed without struggle.

As much as Antoinette felt more than confident she would win a battle against an armless opponent, even one as strong as Maria, that did not mean a battle of wills would end the same. Maria's Nightmare was renown, and terrifying. Of course, the woman was seriously maimed, and such damage left her in extreme disrepair. For all the elder's posturing, she was likely barely able to remain out of torpor for this conversation. A stiff breeze could defeat her in this state, but that did not mean she could be so easily managed in the future. Antoinette had to choose her words well, lest the elder's Nightmare be a true concern in the future.

And for all the frustration the blasted woman provided Antoinette's life, Maria did not deserve death.

"Yes, moi, Maria." Enough games. "And yes, I despise your religion. I despise fools such as yourself, so void of intelligence that you latch onto a feeling, an emotion, and call it faith. The fact you have the audacity to act upon faith as if it were proof itself of a higher being, and worse, that a higher being condones and encourages your behavior, disgusts me. How dare you." Before Maria could retort, Antoinette put up a hand. "But that is not the reason I enacted the purge, and you know that. Lucas vied for power, and plotted my demise. He wanted Dolareido for himself, and his methods became brutal, and savage. I hunted him, and killed those that protected him and served him, because it saved the lives of Kindred and kine, and my city. And..." She leaned forward again, and met Maria's anger from mere inches away. "And he had become unstable, as you know Viktor had before his death."

"He..." Maria glared at her, but it was clear Antoinette had won the joust. Sighing, Maria sat back and sank into her chair, defeated, but not by Antoinette. Defeated by her own wisdom and understanding of the reality Antoinette described. She had merely needed a push toward it. "He was not always so savage, Antoinette. He did not always desire to rule, or to crush others under his heel. He did not always dream of... He..." Her eyes fell, and fell, and her soul fell with her.

Antoinette matched her sigh, and set her hand on the woman's desk. The implication was clear: if Maria still had her arms, they could have exchanged a touch.

"I know, Maria. Tony was not always a bitter, resentful man, either."

"You killed him, didn't you?"

Antoinette smiled. The woman was dangerously intelligent, when she wished to be.

"A misleading word here. A touch of bait there. Viktor and Tony clashed, and to my delight, both died to their own foolhardiness." No need to bring Jack's involvement into the conversation.

"I can't imagine doing that to someone you loved."

"I... did not enjoy it, Maria, but it had to be done. And we had loved each other, many years before, but not by then. His descent into cruelty was a process of decades. For Lucas, I am sure you would have felt the same way, if given time, and if you had not been given fifty years to--"

"To look upon my memories of him with rose-tinted glasses?"

Antoinette sighed again, and offered the Nosferatu a weak, knowing smile. "No one is immune to the influence of time, Maria. I am lucky, in a way. Tony became my enemy, leaving me with few options, and with years of the man antagonizing me and my city, I did what had to be done. But, it hurt, Maria. Not a night goes by I do not blame myself, at least in part, for the Kindred Tony eventually became."

"And Elaine? Viktor's sire?"

"I suppose that secret has spread throughout the city, at this point."

"Of course."

After a heavy nod, Antoinette sat back and shook her head. "She knows it was my plan that led to his death, and she feels as I did about Tony. A childe we both created. A childe that grew and evolved into something horrible. Failures both, and we are partly to blame."

Maria snorted on a laugh, and Antoinette raised a brow.

"Sorry. It's just, three women, elders, all who've had the men in their lives devolve into cruel, savage beasts? God has a sense of humor."

Antoinette laughed. "I suppose she does."

Maria blinked at her, and returned her laugh, though it was short lived, ended by a harsh wince of pain.

"Jack is safe from my wrath, Antoinette," she said, and Antoinette again sighed, this time in relief. "Though it may be in his best interest to avoid me. I... was more comfortable, when I thought you or Daniel had taken Lucas's life. Knowing it was Jack, I'm still not sure how I feel. Are... are you sure it was Jack, and not the curse?"

"It was Jack, Maria. Lucas had won that battle, thanks largely due to you giving him permission to abduct Natasha." As predicted, her words made the elder frown, half in anger, half in shame. "Jack managed to surprise Damien with his fortitude and strength of will. And... and that was that."

She nodded. "As I surmised. If... if you would leave me now, Prince. I must think on this."

Nodding, Antoinette stood, and offered the woman a half bow. "Thank you, for listening, Maria. And now, I must... deal with another problem, for another."

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"Natasha dear, could you come join me?"

"Um, s-sure. Where are you Prince?"

"I await in cell 16."

The pause in her student's voice spoke volumes. She had informed her student of what was to be done. Now it was Natasha's turn.

"On the way, Prince."

Nodding, Antoinette ended the call and lowered the phone. "She will be here soon."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" her sheriff asked. The uncertainty in his voice was quite out of place. "She won't respond as well you think."

"I do not think she will respond well, Daniel, but she will respond. This is an important moment in her growth, and an important moment in our balance with these wolves." She gestured to Matthew and Arturo.

The two men stood there, arms apart and over their heads, held up by chains. Both were conscious, though both were in terrible shape, riddled with injuries that had obviously been caused by silver. For all Damien's faults, she knew firsthand how dangerous the Mekhet was. It did not surprise her he had managed to inflict such damage upon Avery's pack before his defeat.

The men were clothed, typical jeans and t-shirts. She had been tempted to strip them, to rob them of dignity as well as their freedom, but such crass methods were unnecessary for this action.

"You don't think we could transform and break free?" Arturo said. He pulled on the chains idly, causing his body to pull into the air a few inches, but the chains holding his ankles soon halted the movement.

Antoinette gestured to Daniel. "My sheriff does not need a silver sword to decapitate you, fool, transformed or otherwise. And..." She stepped forward, and set her fingers against the man's chest. Tall as Arturo was, they matched heights. "I need no sword to rip you in half, stupid man." Before he could respond, she waved the hand and took a step back. "Enough. This bravado is pointless. You are trapped, and Avery does not know where you are."

Matthew sighed and shook his head. "She can track us."

"If she realized you were missing. She does not, yet." If only these wolves understood how meaningless their words were. "Do not worry. Your fates rest not in my hands, but Vola's."

Both men winced, and looked down. If guilt were a spice, the two boys could be ground for ample supply.

After a couple minutes of silence, save for the panicked heartbeats of the two wolves, Natasha appeared in the hallway. And in her hand, she carried a stake.

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~~Natasha~~

She stepped into the cell, and forced herself to look up at her boyfriends. They managed to meet her gaze, but only for a second, before they both looked away.

"Can... can I speak t-to them alone?" This wasn't the cell they'd once put Sándor in, with powerful chains capable of holding true monsters. If the boys transformed, they'd be able to break free, even with their injuries.

But they wouldn't. If they did, Daniel would open the door and cut them into ribbons.

"Yes, Vola. Do be careful," Antoinette said.

"They won't--"

"Not of them. For them." The Prince smiled at her, and once Daniel stepped out of the room, she closed the door.

A few LEDs built into the ceiling lit the room, enough she could see the boys' faces, and how uncomfortable they were. Physical pain, yes, but it was shame and guilt that had them looking so... defeated.

It made her feel good for a whole two seconds. Satisfaction melted away, replaced with only sadness, and a desire to hug her stupid boyfriends. But Antoinette taught her well, taught her to recognize those emotions, accept them, and ignore them. Maybe after a chat she could listen to them, but for now, those emotions would only blind her.

She slowly walked around the two boys, and her footsteps echoed softly in the cube room. She looked down at the strange stake, and tapped it lightly in her hands as she came around to stand in front of them again, before continuing to circle them.

"Tash," Art said. "We're--"

"Shut up," she said, startling herself. More venom slipped into her words than she meant to. Channeling Jessy a bit there, maybe.

She walked around them a few more times, tapping her stake intermittently as she juggled possible conversation threads. What would happen if she started yelling? She ran a few scenarios through her head. What would happen if she softly asked for an explanation? She ran a few more scenarios. What would happen if she started crying? She ran a few more scenarios again, and frowned at herself. That last one was dirty, emotional manipulation.

Eventually she stopped in front of the two boys, and held up the stake.

"This w-wood is treated. There's a very thin coating of something on it, just enough so that it d-doesn't smell like wood." She stepped up to Matthew, and lightly pressed its tip against the huge man's shirt at the navel. "Do you have one, too?"

Matthew met her gaze, and nodded, before lowering it again.

"How long have you h-had it?" she asked.

Matthew turned his head, looking away. He'd only do that if this was pack issue, which meant Avery told them to get these.

Natasha reached underneath her suit jacket, and pulled out her silver knife. Both boys pulled their heads back instantly, and she quickly held up one hand palm forward.

"I'm n-not going to hurt you. Do you... d-do you really think I'd do that?"

Art grimaced as he stared at the blade. "I did stab you, Tash. I... wouldn't exactly blame you, if you returned the favor."

She rolled her eyes, took a step back, and leaned back against the wall. "I think D-Damien and Jack got enough revenge for that." She gestured to them and their bodies. Their t-shirts didn't do a good job hiding the nasty bruises, car-crash level bruises, or the nasty tears in their flesh. The particularly nasty wounds were wrapped in gauze, and she could smell the blood and damaged skin. Silver had done that.

"Yeah," Matt said. "Damien's fast. But... honestly, Jack was the bigger problem. Sure, we'll heal faster from what he put us through, but if he'd wanted to..."

Art groaned. "We'd be rat shit by now."

Tash expected such a remark to be laced with sarcasm, but Art's voice had been solid, and he met her eyes with a rigid stare. Jack had scared them, badly. Not even their violent encounter with Jacob in his cave had left the boys this unnerved.

"Jack is..." Sighing, she shook her head. "Is not your concern. As long as you leave K-Kindred alone, he'll leave you alone."

The boys looked at each other, and then to her, obvious disbelief in their eyes. They weren't simply afraid of Jack, they were concerned about him, the way villagers would be concerned about a nearby volcano about to erupt.

"The Prince," she continued, "didn't capture you to t-talk about Jack. She captured you, b-because you assaulted one of the Ordo Dracul. She has exercised her right as P-Prince of Dolareido, to take revenge on transgressions against her covenant. Against... m-my covenant."

Matt sighed and let his head droop. "Tash, we--"

"I know. You didn't want to hurt me. Avery t-told you to keep me out of the way, and you knew you only had one way to... t-to do that." She stepped up to them again, and looked up at each of them. Each managed to hold her gaze for a few seconds longer this time, before they both looked down. "You attacked me, a dr-dragon. And you... you betrayed my trust, your girlfriend. You d-don't get to do that! Ever!" Heat shot up through her, and she poked the tip of the stake against Art's stomach.

Art pulled back enough to stop the wood from penetrating skin, but bound as he was, he didn't get far. And slowly, as silence settled on them, the two boys lifted their eyes from the floor and looked at her. Sadness, sadness she felt, and understood.

This wasn't just an issue about their relationship. Worse, it had almost nothing to do with that. As much as a part of her wanted to make it personal, to make it sting even more so she could be angrier with them, that wasn't analyzing the situation accurately. They did what they did because they were a member of Avery's pack, a group with their own motivations, same as any covenant. And when it came time to decide between their relationship with her, or their pack and their pack's goals, they picked their pack.

And that hurt. It hurt so damn much, because she knew, if the situation had been reversed, she'd probably have done the same thing. If Antoinette told her the city was in danger, that her friends were in danger, and that she had to trick and lock Art and Matt up for a night so she could do something they didn't want her to do? Yeah, she'd have done it, and she'd have hated herself every minute of every night from thereon out.

That's what the boys were feeling now. The sadness, shame, it was carved into them in big bright letters, made even worse because their mission had failed. They'd lost everything.

Maybe if she was Antoinette, or Elaine, she'd punish them. Maybe if she was Jessy, she'd hurt them. Maybe if she was a witch, she'd cast a spell on them. Maybe if she was a Carthian, she'd wreck their car; they didn't have a car, but still. Maybe if she was Invictus, she'd seize their assets and leave them living on the street; even less of a concern to them than a car.

But she was Tash. She just didn't have that kind of hate in her, and she knew it. Even now, she wanted to free them, apologize for what Antoinette and Daniel did, even apologize for what Damien and Jack did, and take care of their wounds. She wanted to snuggle up on her bed with them, cuddle, have lots of gentle sex, then rough sex, and Kiss them to end the night in bliss. She wanted all this stupid pain to go away.

"I... I carried a silver sword, b-because I had to. Because I was told to. I bet it made you nervous, knowing I always had that. But I never hid that from you! You knew I had it! I..." Sighing, she shook her head. Avery probably told them to keep the stakes hidden; that explained why they were treated so vampires wouldn't be able to smell them.

Every way she looked at this argument, it always ended on how the boys chose to listen to their boss when push came to shove.

"You'll... b-be staying here tonight," she continued. "And maybe longer, until I say otherwise. If Avery c-complains... fuck her." She glared at each man, frowned her best frown, and left. Once the door was closed behind her, she leaned back against it and hugged her arms tight to her, body shaking. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"Natasha?" Daniel said.

"Sire. The boys will be staying here t-tonight. If that's acceptable?" Her best official voice wasn't doing too good either, wavering.

"Yes, Natasha." He looked at her, adjusted his glasses, and did nothing. Or that's what she thought he'd do, cause that's what he always did. Her sire was reliable, but had all the empathy of a stone; it still boggled her mind he sired her. But after looking at her for a moment, his expression softened a little, and he sighed quietly.

He looked sad.

"W-What?"

"Natasha, I... I'm hardly one to give advice about this sort of thing. But, take it from someone a lot older than you, someone who's made a lot of mistakes in this department. If you love them, make it work."

She stared at the stranger in Daniel's skin, jaw slowly dropping. "Sire?" Thank god the cell door was soundproof when closed.

"We're not kine, Natasha. We live a long time. You can't make an excuse about career, or even a covenant getting in the way, because what do those matter to immortals? If you genuinely love them, make it work. Because, in a hundred years, they'll be gone, and you won't be. You'll spend a hundred years more hating yourself and the happiness you could have had." He cracked a tiny smile, before wiping it away with the thumb of his glove. "The memories are worth it."

Daniel didn't like to talk much. He preferred to let people come to their own conclusions, and that included how he handled his role as sire. At this point in Natasha's second life, Daniel was sire in name, but there was no dependent connection between them. She was her own vampire, and Daniel was her superior in the covenant, nothing more.

To hear him talk like this, like a sire would to a fledgling, struck her still.

"They... they attacked a dr-dragon. I--"

"And they should be punished for it. But if they love you, they'll take that punishment with a smile if it means they get to stay with you."

"They betrayed my trust!" She stomped her foot and glared up at the man, fists clenched.

"You know why they did. Is it something you can put behind you, and something they'll apologize for, genuinely? Or not?"

"I... I..."

He put up his hands lightly, palms toward her, and shook his head. "Like you said, they'll be staying here tonight. Think about it."

"I will. I... w-will."