My Little Ventrue Pt. 09 Ch. 04

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"We do," Art said. "We do. I... staked you, because I knew you'd get involved, and--"

"And didn't w-want to see me hurt." She glared up at him. Getting staked hurt, but ultimately, it was an effective way of keeping her out of harm's way. It only took a single night to recover from it, and they knew that. Still...

Matt nodded. "Avery can get pretty scary when she's transformed. And Maria... We knew things were gonna get bad."

Art winced even more, looking away. "And it's more than that. It's because you're too much of a threat, Tash, and Avery knows that."

She raised a brow. "I'm n-not that strong."

Art shook his head. "Bullshit. You're damn fast, as fast as that Damien guy, and he fucked us up pretty good. If it'd been one-on-one, Damien would have had us with his silver. And you could have done the same. Avery couldn't have that."

Sighing, she came close, and pet them both on their chests. "And now, you know you... you sh-should have talked to me, right?"

They both nodded. She almost made a quip about how they looked like two dogs, nodding in sync for their master. Probably a bad time to say that. And it made her feel a little bad. She didn't want them to think of her like some sort of master giving orders. Though, that was basically what she'd be, until the weird stuff happening in Dolareido was dealt with.

And now, it was time for the big word, the word she was terrified to say, the word she knew she had to say. Especially after seeing them go up against their leader, for her. God, it scared her, scared her so fucking much, but she had to say it, had to get it out before it tore her up anymore.

"And you know... know that I love you t-two, right? And... that's why it hurt so much?"

She couldn't have hurt them more if she'd tagged them both in the crotch with a silver crowbar. She didn't mean to! Just, it was the truth, and it had to be said.

There went her dreamy fantasies of a proper love confession after an epic battle, or lengthy session of lovemaking.

After a few moments, both boys squatted down; couldn't squat very well in jeans, but they managed, weight on the balls of their toes instead.

"I love you, too," Art said, and he took her right hand in his.

"I love you, too," Matt said, and he took her left hand in his.

She sniffled. Not like she needed to sniffle, not Blushing Life, but she did anyway, and her hands shook a little too.

"R-Really?"

"Really," they said together.

She gulped, and came in closer. Before she knew it, they had their arms around her, and she let them. Pain, gone. Terror, vanished. Oh god, it was really happening.

"Jack," Art continued. "He visited, a week ago. Kinda dropped some truth bombs on us. Kid can be a real asshole, but, he's good at cutting through the bullshit and getting to the truth of things."

Was that all it took? For someone blunt to talk to them? No. They didn't give Jack the credit he was due. If the man told them something harsh and scathing, it's because he knew it was the only way to make things work. He was a lot better at the job the Prince had given him than he realized. Julias had taught him well.

"I'm glad he d-d-did."

Glad, so very very glad. Part of her knew she should be angrier, that she shouldn't give in so easily, but she just didn't have it in her. Maybe that was sad. Maybe it was pathetic, and Antoinette would scold her for not being more stern. She didn't care. Being in their arms again, feeling their chests against her, feeling their warmth around her, it filled her with butterflies.

Cozy. Safe. Warm. With these two idiots she loved.

Love. Jessy called it the L word, like it was something naughty, despite how much she was in love with Eric. When Jessy had told her she and Eric had said the 'L word' to each other, it took Tash a second to figure out what she meant, but the unending joy pouring out of her gave it away. And it hadn't stopped. Now Tash could understand why.

With both guys squatting down on their toes, she was taller than them, making it easy to kiss one, and then the other.

"He also kinda spoiled things for us," Matt said.

"Spoiled?"

Art nodded, kissing her on the cheek. "He told us you loved us. And basically figured out that we love you, too."

She laughed. "That... d-does kinda spoil the surprise. Well, thank you, for letting me s-say it without knowing."

"Thanks," Matt said, "for giving us a second chance."

Art shook his head. "But, you have to know, we're not against what Avery did either, about Maria I mean. Avery's never steered us wrong, and she's been hunting for longer than any of us. We did what she wanted because we believe in her, and... and we still do, you know? What we did to you was stupid and wrong and horrible, but... but it's gonna take some serious work to convince us she's wrong. We owe Avery that much."

Sighing, she leaned into Art and rested her forehead down against his. "I was angry at m-myself too, you know? I couldn't blame you completely. If the situation had been... r-reversed..." She might have done the same thing. Maybe not stake them; they weren't vampires. If she had to take them out of the equation, she'd find another way, involving either distraction, or maybe tricking them into Antoinette's cell meant to hold monsters. She liked to tell herself she'd have talked to them instead, but maybe she wouldn't have.

Speaking of cells.

"And I'm sorry, for leaving you locked up in the P-Prince's cell, for a few days."

Matt shrugged. "Doesn't even... It doesn't matter. Really." He kissed her cheek again. And then her neck.

Every inch of her wanted to melt into their arms. Not even Blushing Life, and she could feel tingles working through her. Every breath, she could smell them, scents she'd long started to associate with comfort and joy and bliss. The powerful beats of their hearts, the hardness of their muscles, even Matt's damn whiskers. She melted into a sea of memories.

Sighing, she put a hand on Matt's forehead, and gently pushed him back.

"Not... n-not right now. We have stuff to do." Self control! Success.

"You want to get to work tonight?"

She nodded. "Yes. Important things are happening, but everyone's so focused on the C-Carthians and the Invictus, n-no one sees it." Sighing again, she leaned forward, gave each of them a long, proper kiss, and stepped out of their warm embrace. Her insides screamed at her to get back in there, hug them, maybe Kiss them, maybe more, but no. She had a job to do.

Art frowned. "Into the Hisil?"

She met his frown, and nodded. "Into the Hisil. Is there a p-problem with that?" The boys blinked, and shook their heads. "Good. This deal isn't just to p-placate the Ordo. I have a job to do, and you two are going to help me d-do it. Understand? If I say jump, you say how high."

They both groaned, obviously disliking the idea of her going into danger, but they nodded eventually.

"Yes mistress," Art said.

"Yes mistress," Matt said.

She tried to keep a stern face, but she couldn't. Giggling, she hugged them again, and kissed them both again. Mistress? She kinda liked the sound of that.

Antoinette probably loved it, too, being called by her Prince title, or maybe even other things, like mistress, or queen? She could ask later, and she knew the Prince would tell her, in vivid detail.

Not now, focus.

"Ok, let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~Jack~~

"Mary, you there?" Nothing. The darkness said nothing.

Jack sighed, and walked through his old home, admiring the couches and the memories they sparked. If torpor ever wiped his mind of those memories, he'd feel sad. Hell, sad wasn't a strong enough word. Destroyed? Wrecked, ruined? Or would he just, not care? Antoinette had no memories left from her time as kine, but she didn't let it stop her.

But, after a few hundred intimate conversations with the woman of his dreams, it'd become apparent that the Antoinette from five hundred years ago, was dead. Whoever Antoinette was now, wise, intelligent, and self aware to the point of surrealism, she hadn't been that person back then. Whatever gave her her unusual body, probably experiments she performed on herself using the Coils according to her, that was just the tip of the iceberg for how different a person she was now. How much would Jack change as the years went by, and he had to go into deep torpors?

He ran a finger along a wall, and moved upstairs. Downstairs, the place had been repaired by some Invictus cleaners during the day when Mary wouldn't bother them. But he wasn't here to watch TV. Upstairs, the hallway pressed down on him, dark, and cold.

The cold only grew when he opened his sister's bedroom door.

"Mary. It's Jack. I wanted to talk." Again, silence. But the cold, the shadows that fell on him like a lead blanket, the mist that coated the floor, he knew she was here.

He stood at her vanity desk, admiring the jewelry, none of it particularly expensive. Mary didn't care about expensive, she just liked colorful things. She'd sooner wear bright green socks with cartoon frogs drawn on them, than pantyhose or whatever. And pink earrings with little words on them, like 'love'. But she had some other things too, more subtle stuff like silver and gold bracelets and necklaces, thin and quiet. His mom's new necklace was from this desk.

"You always loved to touch my stuff," the darkness said.

Jack smiled, and turned around. He'd felt her coming, like a deathly cold breeze that bit the skin. It was hard to see in the shadows, but movement came from above, swirling mists that betrayed the shape of a woman's face. She was mostly in the ceiling, but her head came through, and she looked at him with empty eyes.

"I was a kid. Just thought my older sister's stuff was shiny."

"You ate one of my earrings, once."

"I did? Wait, you didn't get your ears pierced when you were young enough for me to do that."

His sister lowered herself a little more, exposing her shoulders from the white ceiling.

"It was a clip-on."

"Ah, right. I can't remember."

"You were three."

"Well I don't think anyone should be held accountable for what they do when they're three."

Mary smiled. Not a creepy, scary smile. A normal girl's smile. Her eyes didn't look nearly as large either; he couldn't see into her skull. She floated down out of the ceiling, but stayed up high as she hovered around, like a fish near the surface of the water.

"You don't visit often," she said.

Jack sighed, and sat on her bed. "Mom visits you a lot."

"She does. I like it. It's like... like nothing's changed."

He raised a brow. "Um, what?"

"When you disappeared, Mom and I got close. We talked often. You weren't around. It's like that."

Muscles clenched in his jaw, and he took a deep, useless breath. She was very lucid; probably cause of his mom, talking to her all the time. A lucid ghost was easier to talk to, but it also meant she could think reasonably, come to conclusions she couldn't otherwise, and might freak out over something not obvious. It'd almost be easier to deal with her if she was insane.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's ok. I'm dead. You shouldn't spend all your time with dead people."

"Technically I'm undead. Vampire. So, you know, it's kind of a gray area."

She laughed, a weird, raspy sound. "You shouldn't worry about me, Jack. I'll be fine."

He was, and wasn't worried about her. She was dead, and she made a good point that he shouldn't be spending his time with dead people. But she wasn't gone yet.

"I'm worried about Mom, more than you."

She nodded. "Me too."

"She been telling you much?"

Mary nodded, and slowly lowered herself down to sit beside him. It took a lot of effort to not shift away from her. This close, he could feel the unnatural coldness, and the unnatural death. Like, as if someone had given a cemetery the ability to speak.

"She's told me a lot. Apparently she's dating a vampire named Jacob?"

"Ugh, don't remind me."

The ghost giggled. More of that raspy noise. "She told me you don't like Jacob."

"Jacob is dangerous. He's old as dirt, and--"

"Isn't your girlfriend the same age?"

"Yeah, but that's different!" He threw up his hands. "Antoinette isn't a creep."

Mary laughed harder. Now, the laugh was definitely inhuman, both raspy, and strangely paced, exaggerated and weird. Eerie.

"I'm... happy, that Mom and you are getting to have so much fun."

"It's not--"

"I know, I know. Mom's told me about all the bad things that have happened. But, it's still a lot of good things. Even all the sexy things."

Jack groaned and rubbed his face with his palms. "Please tell me Mom isn't sharing all the details of our sex lives with you."

"Not the details. She's my mom," she said. He scrunched up his eyes nose as he eyed her suspiciously. She laughed. "She did tell me you're a pretty lucky guy."

"Lucky? Cause--"

"Of all the women."

He rolled his eyes. "I mean, I guess."

"You guess? Two tall, busty super models, two ballerinas, and now you're making your own harem."

"D-Did Mom tell you it's a harem? It's not a harem! They're going to take care of my property, and they'll be trained in weapons and... stuff..."

Mary giggled some more. Yeah, it was a strange sound, but it probably wouldn't sound so bad if he got used to it. With his mom visiting all the time, she was probably very used to it.

"I remember when you used to be so awkward around people."

He shrugged. "Still am."

"Not what Mom says. She says you've gotten very good at talking to people."

"Talking to people is a skill. I've always been good at it, but it's draining as fuck. Nothing natural or fun about it for me. Just... these days, I don't have a choice, so I guess yeah, I look less awkward to her."

"Can't be too draining, if you seduced four women."

He threw up his hands, again. "That is not what happened!"

Giggling some more, she floated off the bed, and drifted around the room over to her closet. With a swipe of her hand, like she was pushing back against a tidal wave, the closet door opened with a loud thunk, hard enough to make Jack almost jump.

"Sorry. Hard to... to do things gently. Hmm, all these clothes, and I can't wear any of them." She moved into the closet, and floated through the clothes. They didn't move.

"Mary, I wanted to talk about... about that thing, that you told Antoinette."

The ghost snapped her head, glaring at him, before her body disappeared in the closet. Shadows fell on it, like a waterfall of darkness contained within, with only her head sticking out from its falling black.

"It's still out there."

"The thing that comes from the dark?"

The ghost nodded. Her motions weren't smooth anymore, snapping like breaking branches.

He went on. "And you think this thing is what's tearing up... the world, here in Dolareido?"

She nodded again, eyes going wide, inhumanely wide. Panic mode.

"It is! It's there. It's tearing at things, at the seams. I can see other worlds, bleeding in, and this world, bleeding out! It's... it's like staring into a crack from a barely open door, and getting a peek at things beyond."

He managed a weak smile. The Shadow Realm, the dream realms, the Great Below or whatever it was, so many places out there that the physical world was sealed off from, and sealed off for a reason. Might as well call it an apocalypse, if the worlds started opening those cracked doors wide for each other.

"I'm here to talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it! It's out there. It might be listening."

Jack leaned forward, and whispered. "You're right. I've been hunting this thing for a while now, Mary. I don't have proof, but I have a sneaking suspicion I know who's causing these tears."

"Who? Who who who? It can't be a who! Has to be an it! It."

Well, she was right about that. "I don't disagree. But it, he, goes by the name Black Blood, and he likes to pretend he's a he. Been using a Southern accent lately, but it's not something he... it, just has. He picked it."

"I've never talked to it!" Her voice was piercing, but quiet. No one outside would hear them, but Jack could feel the shrieking sound cut through his brain. "It's... it's darkness. It sneaks through the streets, and I can't... see it."

"Can't see it?"

"I can, but I can't." She lowered herself to the floor, body disappearing into the mist and shadow, so all he could see was wisps of flowing movement. "It's sneaky. It drips around... everything, like shadow."

That sounded a lot like Black Blood, or at least the form he used when moving around. Jack had seen the giant skeleton that seemed to be his true form, and so had others, but that didn't seem to be what he usually used.

"I've been trying to figure out what he's up to, Mary. But I don't even know if it is Black Blood." Though at this point, it'd be stupid to not consider the spirit monster to be the most likely culprit. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

She shook her head frantically.

He put up his hands. "That's ok. It's still a great help, knowing that you can sorta see this thing, and that you think it's responsible for the tears."

Her eyes shrank back to a more normal size, and the jittery motions settled. "Be careful Jack. Whatever it is, it's... it's cold. Colder than me."

He winced. Even without eyes, the fear on her face was blatant. A terrified ghost was a freaky image.

"Jack," she said after a time, "do you know a Sabrina?"

Oh shit.

"Sabrina? You've met a Sabrina? When?"

"Last night."

Oh shit oh shit.

"You mean, a woman came into the house?"

"No. She... she came up from the ground, from the floor, from below. She said she was drawn here, following a trail. She asked if I knew you."

He groaned hard enough his voice tore up. "Did you tell her anything?"

"No! She scared me. She pushed into my home, without my permission, so I pushed her out. It's my home. Mine!"

"Good, good. Don't let her in."

"Who is she?"

He opened his mouth, and closed it. Tell his sister? It could be a mistake. She wasn't stable, by any means, and if he told her something there was always the chance she'd repeat it to someone else in a fit of madness.

"It's complicated. But she's very dangerous, even for ghosts. Especially for ghosts. Don't let her in. I met her in a... strange place, somewhere beneath us, but not really. She... helped me."

"If she helped you, then--"

"Don't, ok? Don't let her in, and don't talk to her. I saw her do things to ghosts, Mary, other ghosts, and it was horrific. Don't let her in." He rubbed his arms as he looked around. If Mary could defend her home from other ghosts, that was great. But Sabrina not being stuck in the Great Below was bad, bad for him, bad for everyone. She thought he was her friend, because he was Viktor's grandchilde. If she ever found out what he did, the psycho would probably creep through every wall, through the Prince's defenses, and cut his head off while he slept.

Could ghosts move around in the day? Could they enter any house uninvited? Could a ghost just, wander around? No, no way. There had to be limitations.

And he wasn't going to use his sister to learn more about those limitations. Much as he loved Antoinette, and he knew she'd love an opportunity to perform experiments on a ghost, he wouldn't let it happen. Not to Mary. Even if Antoinette said it might keep her around longer, to persuade his mom, he wouldn't let it happen. This had to stop.

"Mary. Do you ever think about leaving? About crossing over."

Slowly, she hovered out of the mist, and sat beside him again. He'd expected her to freak out, maybe throw him around, but she didn't. She sat there, half sitting, half hovering, head aimed down, and shivered.

"I can't leave yet, not until Mom is safe."