My Little Ventrue Pt. 09 Ch. 01

Jack held up a hand. "Yeah, I get that Begotten are special monsters capable of getting all Cthulhu on me and going to different dimensions or whatever, but that doesn't mean you're the only ones that can. And Black Blood, I... there's something more going on with it, him, whatever. Don't think of him like other spirits."

Sándor spoke up, drawing a raised brow from everyone. "Black Blood is the reason I was able to break Jeremiah's ritual on Azamel. The entity wouldn't help us, if he was this threat Azamel's worried about."

"Unless he wanted you to owe him one," Jack said. "Or... some other reason. All I know is, Black Blood's already told me that a lot of the old tears in Dolareido, really old ones, are his. Whether he made them or someone else did and he claimed them, I don't know. But now there are new tears, and--"

"Um, the fuck?" Jessy asked, with a bit of bite in her tone and hands in the air.

Yeah, he knew that was gonna happen. With another groan, Jack looked over to Jessy, wincing the whole time. "You know some about it already, Jess. But shit's been going on for a while now, something we've all be trying to hunt down, something going on in the shadows and cracks of the world."

"Cra--"

"Literal cracks of the world. Like, dimensional shit. Something's going on out there, doing something, and we don't know what yet. But Azamel and others think it threatens Dolareido. So we're tracking it down. Avery thinks it's Maria. I think it might be Black Blood."

Jessy stared at him, eyes wide, before she threw up her hands. "The fuck did you tell me that for!? God damn it, now I gotta keep it secret! Holy fuck, I don't want Black Blood as an enemy!"

Despite himself, he laughed. "Come on, you had to have some idea, right? The mysterious meetings and shit."

Frowning, she paced in place and shook her head. "Plausible deniability, man. Fuck."

Sándor snorted, stepped closer to the edge of the stage, and glared down at Jessy. Glare was too strong a word, cause the man didn't put out much emotion, but the impact was still the same. Jessy met his eyes, and everyone went quiet.

"I'm new to the city," Sándor said, "but I've been given a home here. However brief my stay, I'd prefer to help as much as I can. So keep this a secret, vampire, or you might risk everything."

Jessy winced all the more, threw her hands up again, and paced around like an anxious canine. "God damn it."

"Sorry Jessy," Jack said. "But you needed to know; you're my partner. Normally it's me and Damien dealing with this, but, yeah, you're in the know, now. If it's any consolation, Natasha knows about it, too."

That got her attention.

"Natasha knows?" She frowned, but with less anger. He recognized that look. Hearing that hurt her. "She didn't tell me. I mean, she... she kinda hinted at some stuff, but..."

Athalia snorted, got up, and joined Sándor's side, glaring down at Jessy. "She didn't tell you because you have a big mouth."

"Hey, fuck you!"

Athalia shrugged and gestured to Jessy as she looked at the rest of them. "It wasn't a good idea to tell her, Jack."

"I've worked with her for years," he said. "I trust her. Besides, she's dating a werewolf, and sooner or later Eric would figure out something was going on, too. Avery's probably told Eric as much, he just doesn't understand the scope."

"So I can talk to Eric about this?" Jessy asked.

Jack sighed and shrugged. "Use your judgment, I guess. He is a werewolf. He's going to get involved one way or another." Eric was still a bit of a question mark. Sure, Jack wanted to trust the man, but he was an Uratha, and if Avery and her pack were any indication, the werewolves couldn't ignore their instincts. Those instincts evidently included dealing with the Gauntlet, like it was fucking existential for them.

"Ugh." She threw up her hands yet again, and paced around some more, eyes on the ground and face in a permanent frown.

Azamel laughed, and coughed, and laughed some more. "You trust people far too easily, Jack."

"Yeah well, friends at your back are worth the risk." He gestured to the three Begotten around Azamel. "Aren't they?"

The old woman smirked, and took a puff of her cigarette. "You're a vampire. What does a vampire know of friendship, and family?"

"Plenty." Jack leaned over Azamel's side and met her eyes. "Black Blood. I don't know what he's up to, but I have some evidence that proves he's either responsible, or at least has involved himself, in these new tears we're finding."

The old woman gestured to Sándor. "Then, Sándor, when you find the next tear, take the boy to it. If he's found a way to trace these tears to the spirit-not-spirit, let him prove it."

Sándor nodded. "Alright."

Nodding, Jack got up, and turned to leave. But, stopped, and turned back to face the old monster. "You know, you've been a pain in the ass for a lot of vampires in Dolareido, Azamel."

She grinned at him. "Good."

"But I never wanted this to happen to you. I... I'd be happier if everyone just fucking got along and found a way to coexist, you know? Even... even the hunters. Let them hunt the assholes, but not everyone, right? It doesn't need to be like this."

Athalia snorted again, but didn't meet his gaze. She sat with Azamel again, and sighed as she shook her head, looking down.

"Your naivety," Azamel said, "is heartwarming. And besides, your Prince is doing good work. I understand one of the hunters, Brace Harcourt, has been seen with Clara Moreno."

Jack raised a brow. "Really? When?"

"Two days ago."

Clara hanging with Brace? He had no idea how to feel about that, except, a little bubble of something tickled up his gut, something he didn't like the feel of.

Felt a bit like jealousy.

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Sándor took him and Jessy back through the tunnels.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me," Jessy said.

Jack shook his head. "Come on, you know why. The less people that knew, the better. Hell, you didn't want to know when I told you just now!"

"Yeah but that's a professional call! One I can understand. I know shitloads of things I don't tell you or other Invictus. Tash though, she's my best friend."

Jack looked to Sándor for help. The man kept walking, and avoided eye contact with all the smoothness of a statue.

"Well, you said yourself you didn't want to know."

"But this is big shit! And you didn't tell me, and neither did Tash, and... Arg, you not telling me doesn't bother me at all. Invictus being Invictus. Tash not telling me though, that stings. She's not even Invictus, she..."

"She understands this is a big problem, bigger than her, bigger than you, and didn't tell you at the risk of the friendship."

She winced. "Which sounds an awful lot like what Art and Matt did to her, doesn't it?"

Jack smiled. "There's a small comparison to be made there, yeah."

"Ugh. I suck at this shit. I just wanna go home, fuck Eric, have a snack, fuck some more, and maybe push around a few Carthians for being shortsighted assholes. I don't want to do this cloak and daggers crap! Do I look like a Mekhet to you?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"I don't want to play political games and move pawns against each other in this Danse Macabre shit. Do I look like a Ventrue to you?"

He laughed. "No."

"I don't want to paint or dance or sing or act in one of Isabella's stupid plays, I ain't no Daeva. Bitch doesn't even do musicals! I don't want to scare people with a BOO in the shadows, either. I ain't no Nos. I just wanna hang around and fuck and claim my shit as mine like any self respecting Gangrel does."

He nodded. "Perfectly reasonable. Unfortunately, not in the cards. I've officially pulled you into this cloak and daggers, pawns and secrets game. Now suck it up, princess. I need someone who can stick with me officially as a Right Hand, but also knows about this shit I'm sure Black Blood is up to, cause I know it's gonna come out of left field and fuck everything up somehow. Do I have your sword?"

She blinked at him. "My sword? What?"

"Lord of the Rings."

"Oh, right. Uh, no, but you can... have my axe? Fuck me, I don't know, you stupid nerd. Yes, I'll keep my mouth shut, and keep an eye open."

He grinned at her and pat her on the shoulder. Much as Jessy was a loudmouth, shit had grown too big for him to keep her out of the loop, especially now that Damien was out of commission for a while.

"Speaking of Black Blood," Sándor said, "what is Beatrice up to?"

Groaning, Jack shook his head. "Fuck, I don't know. She's doing something with Jacob, and it's probably not good. I know Jacob has Elen somewhere, and considering what Elen could do, and what Jacob can do with Crúac, it scares the shit out of me what he might be up to."

"You don't think that has anything to do with the threat Azamel warned you about?"

"No, or not originally. Azamel warned me about these new tears showing up in Dolareido, in the spirit realm and elsewhere, before all the shit went down with Jeremiah."

"What about the older tears?"

"Spirits called them verges," Jack said. "The werewolves didn't seem to be too concerned about them, far as I could tell. And they've been around for a damn while, from what the crow spirit I met said. So that's definitely got nothing to do with whatever Triss is up to."

Sándor sighed, which earned a shared, raised brow between Jessy and Jack. For Sándor to make any sort of expressive noise that wasn't words was strange.

"You want revenge on Elen?" Jessy asked.

"Elen is... a tool, a literal one. I don't desire revenge against her. I can't help but feel frustrated when I think of her, but revenge? No."

Jack smiled at the man as they resumed their walking pace. It was almost shocking just how much the gargoyle had managed to open up over the past few months. Azamel was such an influencing factor on the lives of the Begotten in Dolareido, it was mind boggling. She could be a total bitch toward vampires, but to the monsters, she was like... what, a nice grandmother? Maybe one of those super nice grandmas that could unite a whole, dysfunctional family, and have them sitting together at the table, getting along and getting fat on lasagna?

Hard to imagine that towering behemoth elephant monster being a loving grandma sorta character, but the fuck did he know?

"So," Jack said, "it's not Elen you're worried about, it's Triss?"

"I suppose. It's a matter of... concern, that a member of the Circle of the Crone has access to a woman with Elen's abilities. Like you said, Crúac rituals are a problem."

"Dealt with them before?"

"I have. In my younger years, I occasionally befriended a vampire who needed protection during the day. I'm good at... guarding." Well, he was a gargoyle. Standing around, guarding shit, fit him perfectly. "With Elen at her disposal, and after... your sire's death, I think she'll--"

Jack put up a hand. "Yeah, I know. But I trust her. If she's going to do some dark, witchy stuff, then I say let her. It's a horrible path to go down, and I know it's not going to go anywhere good; if resurrection was possible, I'm sure someone somewhere would have heard of someone having succeeded." And that was a strong statement, considering the person he was closest with was basically a five hundred-year-old scientist. If there'd been a single successful example, Antoinette would have it written down somewhere, in some form or another. "Maybe she'll... fuck, I dunno, not do what I'm worried about. Maybe she'll create a shrunken head she can use to speak to the beyond, instead?"

"That," Jessy said, "actually sounds kinda cool."

Jack facepalmed, but couldn't help but laugh. To Jessy it probably all sounded neat and interesting. To Jack, dealing with the dead was becoming a recurring nightmare in his second life. He had to visit Mary again, and see if she was willing to move on yet. Not a conversation he was looking forward to.

"Julias is dead," Jack said eventually, "and yeah, it really sucks. I miss him, and I can't even fucking imagine how much it hurt Beatrice losing him. But he's gone, and if she's trying to do something with Elen so she can talk to him again, or worse, that... isn't good."

Sándor nodded. "Agreed."

Jessy stepped in beside the gargoyle, opposite of Jack. "Really? I mean, yeah, I get that it's all pretty dark, nasty stuff, but damn Sándor, you lost your whole family, something I doubt any of us could appreciate. If Triss and Jacob are trying to maybe break the rules a bit, I figured you'd want them to?"

If it hadn't been Sándor, Jack would have shut Jessy up before she could have finished the sentence. But Sándor was old as dirt, and had seen more than Jack and Jessy combined, probably by five fold. Jack was less concerned about her hurting the dude's feelings, than he was Sándor uttering a single sentence of unknowable truth that'd shatter her mind or something. Or he'd just punch her super hard.

Sándor kept walking, and Jack could practically see the man becoming his stoic, gargoyle self, walling off emotions. But after a few more seconds, his expression softened to something vaguely resembling a bit of emotion, and he shook his head.

"I miss my family. Every day, I miss them. But they're gone, and only a madman would think it'd be a good idea to... break a law as old as time." He shook his head again, and managed a small glance for Jessy before he looked back to the tracks ahead of them. "The dead are gone, and the living are not, for now. It's what makes life worth living."

"Arg, yeah, I know. I get it, I do," she said. "But fuck, it must be so tempting, right? I mean, we deal with crazy shit all the time. Vampires are half dead already. You're a nightmare monster, and far as I know, you guys have hopped around realms and shit. And what about that weird ghost realm? I--"

"That's not where souls go," Sándor said. "They go somewhere we can't reach. There are realms we can visit in this fallen world, and something beyond we can't. It's blocked from us by some great abyss that..." Sighing, he shrugged, and dismissed the notion with a tiny wave of his hand. "I have visited many places in my time, and have found strange dimensions with strange beings, but life and death is something that things with souls must contend with. No one has managed to violate that, not without great consequence."

Whole shit load of things there Jack wanted to ask about. Fallen world? Great abyss?

"Vampires can do some nifty things," Jessy said. "But--"

Sándor shook his head. "A vampire's ability to occasionally raise someone as a vampire, even after they've fully died, is not the same thing. A soul doesn't run from the world within seconds of death, and..." He shrugged again. "I've seen things, but I don't really know anything."

Jack forced down a chuckle. The man knew a lot.

"Well," Jack said, "if you want to talk to Beatrice, go ahead."

"I'm... not sure I should."

Jessy laughed, and hooked an arm over Sándor's shoulders. For a second, Jack thought the man would throw her off, but he didn't. He did turn his head enough to look at her with a quiet glare that could cut through steel; Jessy's impulsiveness was stronger than steel.

"Cause Jen was trying to get into your pants?"

"Among... other things."

"Ha! Come on dude, let the witches show you a good time. If you want to check up on Triss and Elen, and interfere, you'd be in a pretty good spot to do it from that close. They'd treat you right." And with a wicked smile, Jessy looked at Jack, and he froze. "Way I hear it, Samantha's getting pretty cozy with a lot of those witches."

Jack frowned. "Oh you bitch."

"She's got your genes, Jack. I bet she's--"

"I get it, I get it." Before the conversation could run off course into typical Jessy territory, Jack put up his hands in surrender. "Sándor, do you know how... how much longer Azamel has left?"

"No. Weeks, I imagine."

"And could... could Elen do something for her?"

Sándor shook his head. "It's a wound to her Horror, and to her, down deep where the two meet. She'll be gone soon. I just hope I can... be the rock she's been, for the others."

Jessy blinked at the Begotten, and let go of him as she backed off. Yeah, depressing. Jack probably shouldn't have asked.

"You'll do fine," Jack said, and he touched the Sándor on his shoulder lightly. "If you need anything, anything at all, ask."

"I owe you, Jack, not the other way around."

"Yeah, well, I don't care. I'm serious. If something happens, come get me, alright?"

"... alright."

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~~Natasha~~

Two weeks after the incident.

"Just... just try and k-keep your head down. Please?"

Vivi shook her head. "Sire... Tash, Garry's attacked the Mirrden district. Michael isn't going to just let me sit around doing nothing, just because you used to be a Right Hand."

Natasha groaned and sighed, and looked up to the candles organized into a cross. Within the cathedral, young Invictus were safe from Garry's aggression, mostly. Maria was below, but still gravely wounded. Her elite ghouls patrolled the outside of the cathedral, but they wouldn't be able to do much if an ancilla decided to attack. Thankfully ancilla weren't exactly common in Dolareido, and Garry wouldn't risk his strongest Kindred on attacking the cathedral now, not with Maria out of the way for a while.

Damien, sat on the other side from Vivienne in the pew, managed a slow nod. "McDonald has already given orders for Kindred to take up defensive positions around the district. Skirmishes have been minor so far, but I expect damages in the future."

Natasha shook her head. "The P-Prince won't like damages."

"At this point Tash, I'm not sure Garry or Michael would let the Prince's disagreement stop this inevitable war."

That was true. It was beyond stupid, but it was true.

"She'll stop them," Tash said, "if she was to."

Vivienne frowned and looked down, twiddling with her fingers. She was a small woman, like Tash, though not as small. A quiet, thin girl with pale skin and black hair to her shoulders. Natasha sired her almost a decade ago, and immediately after, their relationship crumbled. She wasn't prepared for a childe, and not like a parent might not be prepared for a literal child. This was different. This was Natasha's greatest failure, her sheer ignorance over what it would be like to bring a human into the Danse Macabre and Masquerade, and how it changed Vivi's personality enough that the two of them clashed.

Since then, she'd come to understand and appreciate her own sire a lot more. Sire childe relationships were never easy.

Vivi had become her own person now, an Invictus with a growing future, and an interest in the Lancea et Sanctum, an interest that nearly got her killed during Lucas's return. Since then, Natasha and her talked on occasion, but not as childe and sire, especially now that Natasha was no longer in the Invictus. Damien kept an eye on Vivi for her these nights, and she appreciated it, but it was also great to have talks like this every so often.

Damien shook his head. "The Prince and the sheriff are two, against over a hundred, Tash. And since Antoinette reopened siring, we have reports the Carthians have embraced thirty new Kindred in the past couple years."

"Fledglings. B-Barely neonates," Tash said. "And the Invictus have done the same."

"You d-don't need to be as old or as powerful as you two," Vivi said, "to use a gun. And as strong as the Prince and the sheriff are, one lucky molotov is all it'd take to kill them. This... this isn't the medieval ages. We don't need to wait decades for Kindred to become strong, before we can do crazy things. It's making Garry and Michael confident. Too confident."

Impressive for Vivi to speak up like that, considering she was as timid as Tash used to be. And Damien was an imposing guy to be around, even with a leg missing. But then, the two had connected before, through their religion. Maybe her beliefs were becoming a foundation she could use to become more confident?