My Little Ventrue Pt. 09 Ch. 07

"Yeah, but it wasn't about the money." He shrugged as he sat on a stool, and left it at that.

Natasha nodded as she sat beside him. "I need your help."

"Need my help?"

"Er, well, want."

"Not sure I understand."

"I've been going into the Hisil lately. You... know about what happened with M-Matt and Art?"

He nodded. "Jessy filled me in." He threw the two men a glance, and they looked back at him. Yeap, that was shame in their eyes. Guy shame, subtle, hidden in a cold, sad gaze. So Eric put up his hands again. "And I don't plan on taking sides on anything, including whatever Avery's pack is up to." Neutrality may have been a boring hill to die on, but he already had a grave plot there and everything.

The boys managed some small smiles, but again, in typical manly fashion, the sadness was hidden in the eyes. Not sad about him, sad about Avery.

"This isn't about that. It's about tracking d-down whoever, whatever, is leaving these scars in the city. And I know you can help us."

"Me? Cause I'm Uratha?"

Art raised a hand. "Well, that, and because we know you've been sneaking into the Hisil and being a dumbass, tracking down and killing spirits."

Eric winced. Those spirits were a menace, spreading influence for things like hate and greed. He'd been slipping into the Hisil at some loci in the city. Finding them wasn't that hard, once you knew what to look for, people behaving strangely and odd behavior cropping up almost unprovoked. Devil's Corner had more than a few small ones.

"I've been in Dolareido my whole life," he said, eying the other two wolves, "and apparently, some mystical moon bitch decided I'm gonna be a werewolf and deal with the crazy shit out there. Spirits, crazy spider hybrid monsters, whatever." The more he talked, the less he sounded like his usual reserved self, and the more he sounded like Jessy. "So if I want to take a trip into the Shadow Realm, and do a little spring cleaning, in my town, I will." Everyone in the room looked at him, faces hunting for more. Eventually he shrugged. "Not like I've been hunting big game. Not yet, anyway."

"Eric," Matt said. "It's not Avery you need to be worried about, if you step over the line and fuck something up. It's not even the Prince. It's Black Blood."

Eric gulped down the rising lump in his throat. For months now, he'd been avoiding Avery and going on these hunts, learning what it meant to be a werewolf in a spirit world, how to hunt and even eat spirits, and he'd killed a few spirits old enough to have names. The name 'Black Blood' came up frequently. So did the others, Red Tide and Street-Tail King, but Black Blood was the spirit that had the city feeling like a monarchy.

"I'm keeping my head down enough to avoid Black Blood. It's not going to care if I deal with a few spirits that got uppity."

Eric hadn't run into it Black Blood yet, or any of the three warring assholes in Dolareido's Hisil half. He planned to keep it that way. Just like how he wasn't getting involved with the Invictus or Carthians. If the Invictus wanted his help dealing with werewolf-y things, then he'd help. But the war? No chance, not unless they put a gun to his head.

Natasha wasn't Invictus, though. If she wanted him to get involved in shit, he had every right to say no.

"You know the city, right?" Natasha asked.

"So do you."

"Yeah, b-but not like a werewolf would."

He sighed. "You want me to help you track down these tears."

The question hit her hard, and she looked down as her little hands fidgeted on the counter for a few seconds.

"Sorta. Matt and Art already know where a new one is. We scouted nearby, but it's... it's dangerous. They w-want to inspect it, but there are red wraiths nearby, and... and..."

"I've seen a tear before."

"Y-Yes."

"So's Jessy."

"And I'd take her! B-But, she's busy, like I said."

Which sucked. He didn't get to see her as much as he used to, and when he did, she was angry. Angry about Amanda, angry about Garry, angry about Michael, even angry about Jack and the kid's refusal to go on a killing spree on some 'punk ass Carthians'.

"Talk with the Begotten yet?"

She shook her head. "No. That's another reason why I came to you. You, um, you know them b-better than we do."

"Ha, do I? Azamel offered me a job. I said no."

"Better than us," Art said. "We tried to kill one of her pack."

Her pack? Uratha did think of pack as family; they essentially were. And Fiona was a part of Azamel's strange, messed up little family. Eric had trouble thinking of anyone in that context though, except maybe Jessy.

"I don't know how much help I'll be with Azamel."

"And you helped rescue Sándor! From that g-g-ghost place. And you w-went through a tear to do it."

That was true, much as he hated to admit it.

"Guess I am kinda involved. I hate that."

Matthew laughed, and everyone raised a brow as they looked at him. "I mean, come on. You're dating Jessy. You really think you coulda said no to her best friend? She'll kill you. Jessy, I mean."

That, apparently, hadn't crossed Tash's mind, cause she looked back to Eric with a big beaming, mischievous smile. He'd seen that smile before. That was Jessy's smile. Damn woman rubbed off on everyone.

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Another trip into the tunnels. Dust, dirt, concave walls of concrete, flickering old lights, ancient railroad tracks, a bygone era of technology abandoned for taxis. Fuck taxis.

He wasn't exactly sure why Dolareido stopped using the subway; it was before his time. Maybe the way it was built just didn't match up with the way the city evolved. Maybe the vamps wanted to keep the tunnels empty for new vamps to live in. Probably a mix of both.

He sighed, taking a sniff. Both Art and Matt did too.

"Smell something strange," Art said. "That blood? Smells like... you?"

"Yeah. Athalia and I got into a tussle down here. She helped me snap out of my..."

"Kuruth." Art said.

Eric nodded. Somehow, the gray matter in his brain understood the word, and it sent a chill down his spine. He'd never shared the word with Jessy, but it was the reason he hesitated when she wanted him to transform for sex.

"You know the B-Begotten more than I thought," Tash said.

"I guess."

"Kuruth," Matt said. "It... it's strange."

"How's that?" Eric asked.

The man crouched over the tracks where Eric had fought Athalia so long ago. "You've felt the berserk rage in you... once."

"Twice. I fought Caleb and--"

Matt shook his head. "Caleb told us what happened. That wasn't Kuruth. That was... Kuruth-lite."

Art choked on a laugh. "What he means, is when you're in Gauru form, you can't not attack something. You have to fight. Not attacking while in Gauru is like holding your breath. You can't do it forever." Most definitely not Eric's experience. "And if you completely lose control, you kill something. Doesn't matter what, doesn't matter who, something has to die. That's Kuruth. The urge to hunt consumes you. All you can smell is blood. All you can see is blood. It grabs hold of you, and... well, you know what you did to Pitt."

Yeah, he knew. That's what it'd been like the first night he transformed. When he got into a fight with Caleb and then Michael, he'd lost control again, but it hadn't been anywhere near as bad as that first night. He'd still been in a little control, and had felt other feelings than just blood lust.

"I get those feelings," he said, "when in Gauru, but never... never that bad, never something I can't control. I mean, yeah there's an animal drive when I'm with Jessy, but I've never wanted to attack her, when transformed."

The two men nodded.

"Last week," Art added, "Tash had us test our control. It went well. It went too well."

"Too well?"

"Yeah. It felt strange, you know? Normally if we go Gauru, we get consumed with a need for violence. What I expected to happen, was Matt and I would basically have to hold our breath, suppress the urge to fight until we couldn't anymore, and go to a different form so we wouldn't. But it didn't happen."

Matt stood up, nodding. "Something... something in Dolareido, maybe? Something told me to stop trying to suppress the urge, and instead, just... breathe through it."

"Not like we haven't breathed when in Gauru form before," Art said, "but here, in this city, each breath was... unusually calming, I guess?" He shrugged and gestured to Eric. "I'm guessing this has something to do with you."

"Uh, not with me. But I know what you mean, yeah. Avery said I have Cahalith dreams, and... I mean, I know my dreams have been visited by Sándor. Fucker got into them and really screwed me up."

Art nodded. "But..."

"But, before him, something else has been in my dreams. Something... grand, I guess. Something that really wanted to give me the impression she was the moon." And of course, his brain auto used 'she', cause something in him insisted 'it' very much thought of itself as 'she'. "I dunno. Just, every so often, she gets into my dreams. Not much lately, and not to say anything important when she does. But back then, she... she thought it was imperative, I guess, that I learn to breathe through the rage. Like... like she wanted me to get to somewhere on the other side of a river I had to swim through, or something."

The two boys looked at each other, before smiling back at him.

"Cahalith," they said. In unison.

"Yeah, I know, I just said that's what I am."

"And Clara and Avery," Art said. "But they haven't said anything about any sort of presence visiting them."

"But..."

"But," Matt said, "sometimes they do have strange dreams. Visions and stuff."

"Ugh. I'd prefer to just be left alone. Let me do my thing. I wanna hunt some nasty spirits? Let me hunt some nasty spirits. I don't want some moon presence visiting my head." He didn't feel comfortable talking about himself this much, not with these people anyway. With Jessy, sure. But Jessy trusted Tash, and Tash trusted Matt and Art. "Can't a guy just be left alone?"

All three of them shook their heads, and he sighed.

"Come on, we're almost there," Tash said, and she offered him a sympathetic smile.

She wasn't wrong. Another twenty minutes of casual walking, and they came to the large room Azamel called hers. A concrete stage covered in furniture, with plenty of open space around it, including a railway that cut through the room along the stage; probably for carts, not actual trains.

But no Azamel. Her chair was there, and the smell of cigarette ashes was powerful, but no old woman. Mark was there, and Athalia. Sadly, no Fiona. The redhead was fun, and a hundred times easier to talk to than anyone else in her family.

"H-Hi," Natasha said. "Um, we came to talk. B-But, where's Azamel, or Sándor?"

Athalia, sitting in a chair on the stage with a book in her hand, shook her head, but didn't look up from its pages. "Azamel's in her lair, resting. And before you ask, no, she doesn't have much time left. She's surprised she's lasted this long."

"Old people can be stubborn," Eric said. "I should know."

Natasha looked at him, confused, but everyone else knew what he meant. Even Athalia, who'd probably had the most fucked up life of any of them, smiled. She didn't like the vampires, or Avery's pack, but she didn't seem to mind him. Maybe even liked him, if the woman was capable of it.

"You're still welcome to join us," Athalia said. "We can't pay you, but your old man is feeling better, isn't he? I bet you have plenty of money saved up for him."

"Yeah."

"Then you can ditch the vamps and sleep in our lairs. You won't need your gilded cage anymore."

That was a tempting offer, a lot more than it had been, with the vamps pushing on each other hard enough to break something. Now that he had money and his dad wasn't sitting in a hospital costing him an arm and a leg, Eric could be free of the Invictus chain around his neck, and just do his own thing.

Except, he knew that was ignoring the future. It'd only be a matter of time before the vampires got him involved in the war, one way or another.

But, he trusted Jessy. And hell, he trusted Jack to do something about the war before it ruined everything. Maybe he wouldn't have to get his hands bloody with vampire ashes?

"I'll pass."

Athalia smirked. "Knew you would. Sucking at vamp tits really that good?"

It was tempting to make a crass comment about Jessy's tits, but he just shrugged and shook his head. "They haven't done wrong by me yet."

"Yeah, well, just wait until Michael shows up at your door and demands your help."

"I'll say no."

"That'll be hard if your dad ends up in the hospital again, under mysterious circumstances."

"Jessy wouldn't let that happen, and neither would Avery."

"Last I checked, you're not in Avery's pack. She won't go to bat for you. She--"

"P-Please," Tash said, stepping forward and putting up her hands. "Jack will do something about the war. This isn't about that. This is about the... mysterious threat." She air quoted the last bit. "It was the B-Begotten who first told us about it. We're here because we want your help."

"Want?" Athalia said. "Sounds to me like you need our help."

That earned a growl from Arturo. He took a step forward, and Eric didn't have to look to know the man had shifted his weight onto the balls of his boots.

"Uh, no, want. You're not the only things around that can jump between realms. Matt and I can handle whatever we--"

Natasha looked back at the man, and Art shut up immediately. Damn. If Jessy were here, she'd probably make a comment about the man being whipped. Well, not comment, she'd just make the whip crack sound.

"I d-don't like to do things unprepared. After seeing blood wraiths scouting the tear, it's obvious that something strange is going on. I'm n-not going to risk making a mistake when we don't have to." Nodding, she managed a small smile. "Or at least mitigate."

"So, what, you want our help investigating the tear?"

"Yes please."

Eric almost laughed. Natasha had grown bolder since he'd known her, but she was still a cute, tiny, soft, and quiet thing, and hearing her soft voice make some very heavy requests was funny. She wasn't asking for help moving a couch. She was asking for a Begotten to risk their lives.

Athalia groaned and shook her head. "I--"

"I'll go."

Everyone looked to the opposite tunnel as the sound of footsteps rang. A few seconds later, Sándor joined them, face its typical neutral. Eric didn't know the man very well, but the fact the guy was reserved, quiet, and stereotypically stoic told Eric enough. Sándor was not the sort of man you wanted to fuck with. What was that line? Beware the fury of a patient man?

"Sándor," Athalia said as she got up and hopped down off the stage. "You don't have to. Azamel dumped this problem on their laps for a reason."

"Azamel will be dead soon."

"And--"

"And I am not Azamel." The man slowly shook his head as he stepped up beside Athalia, touched her on the shoulder once, and smiled. A tiny smile, like it was something he struggled to do. She frowned, looking away, and Sándor's smile faded, before he walked past her. He spared a glance for Mark too, but Mark -- the damn man smelled like rot and death -- shrugged, indifferent.

"You'll help us?" Tash asked.

"Yes."

"Um, n-not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but... why?"

"Because there's something here worth defending."

"Here?"

"Dolareido." He nodded toward Eric. "The Uratha must have felt it by now. There's... something going on, in this city, something more than just these tears. Something... good."

Maybe he was talking about Luna. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, the man wasn't wrong, but it was a damn hard thing to notice when vampires were triggering wars around them, and everyone was convinced the tears popping up around the city were sinister in nature.

The three werewolves nodded, earning a confused glance from Natasha.

"I d-don't know about that," she said. "But... b-but if there is something happening, I suppose vampires probably wouldn't notice, would they?"

The werewolves shrugged, but Sándor managed a small nod.

"Probably not. Except, maybe, the Circle."

Natasha looked down and squirmed. Talk of the Circle always made vamps nervous, even more than talking about the Ordo Dracul. Much as vampires thought the dragons were creepy in a Frankenstein kinda way, weird scientists doing crazy shit, it was the Circle of the Crone that seemed to really make vamps anxious. Witches, warlocks, blood magic, insane stuff any normal vamp avoided.

Maybe Eric should take a trip to visit them? Talk to Triss or something, and see if they knew anything about the weird entity that sometimes talked to Eric in his dreams.

"W-When would you be ready, to um, come help?"

"Now."

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

~~Natasha~~

She knew Sándor could take them into his lair, and then take them into the Shadow Realm through one of his tunnels, but they decided to let the werewolves take them. Matt and Art insisted. The Shadow Realm was their territory, and they didn't have any delusions about the boldness of that claim.

As much as the werewolves were unique for their strange ability to hop between the physical and spirit realm, the nightmare monsters could go anywhere. Absolutely anywhere! She shivered as cold memories ran through her mind, of the strange things she had seen whenever the Begotten or Black Blood were involved. Sure, she'd seen some strange things when she dealt with the Uratha, but it was whenever the monsters or that crazy spirit were involved that things got bizarre, and terrifying. Cosmically terrifying.

Sometimes, she wished she could go back to when she thought the only things out there were vampires, and maybe some other paranormal creatures like werewolves. Even spirits and ghosts weren't all that weird, compared to Black Blood -- Jack insisted it wasn't a true spirit -- and the other things she'd seen in the... the... cracks of the universe, or however one could think of it. No more of that, please k thanks bye.

They walked Devil's Corner. No need for Cloak of Night to keep them hidden, they weren't doing anything any vampires would care about. And they wouldn't be bothered by people on the street, not with four fit guys walking with Tash. Of course, sometimes she kinda liked it when kine tried to push her around, so she could push them back; a guilty pleasure for any vampire.

"Natasha."

Natasha almost jumped. Sándor's voice. He'd come closer to her as they walked, and had started walking beside her without her noticing. Sure, she'd been lost in thought, like usual, but the man could be damn sneaky when he wanted to be, evidently.

"Y-Yes?" She scanned around, doing a quick check for the boys. Matt and Art followed behind, eyes on Sándor, and Eric led ahead.

"I wanted to talk about Beatrice."

"Oh. Um... I'm n-not sure what I can tell you. Triss and I don't talk a lot."

"No, but you knew Julias well."

"Oh... oh." She rubbed an arm as she looked down. This was going to be a painful conversation, for the both of them. "Sure you d... d-don't want to ask her about him?"

"I did."

Of course he did. The man's attitude could break down a concrete wall if he put some force behind it.

"Then I'm not sure w-what I could say."

"I'm worried about Beatrice."

"We... we all are. We know she's d-doing something, something witchy, and... yeah." No one talked about it, but they all knew she was probably trying to resurrect Julias. Everyone conveniently pretended to not know that.

"I know what she's doing."

"You d-do?"

"Yes, but it's private. That's not what I want to talk about."

Ok, apparently Sándor knew more about this than she did.

"Then I'm not sure w-what I can tell you."