My Little Ventrue Pt. 10 Ch. 13

"Jack."

Mary the ghost looked a thousand times worse than she had the last time he'd seen her, and she'd looked like hell on wheels then, destroying the ball. Now, she had a mouth that made Beatrice look tame, and her eyes were straight up demon eyes. Her clothes had changed. They'd gotten more and more torn and tattered the last few times he'd seen her, but now they were dangling strips of wrinkly sheets that were half merged, like some sort of cloak or robe that hid her legs and turned into mist. And she had claws.

"What happened to you?"

"I was scared before, but not anymore. I'm going to protect you. Okay?"

He blinked a few times, before looking down at himself. The pain hit him like a wave, and he sucked in a useless breath between clenched teeth. He dug deep, and poured vitae into his limbs as best he could. Now that he had a second, the wounds managed to seal enough that his insides weren't visible anymore, bones and muscles hidden. If Avery had hit him with her claws when they had the weird red glowy thing going on, it'd have taken multiple nights to heal from, and that was with the power of the curse. But the other wolves and their magic-but-not-super-magic claws, plus the fire, he could heal that in a single night with the curse's power.

He didn't have a night. Some scar tissue thin enough he could still see the dents in his body was good enough for now.

He reached up and touched Mary's hand. One of her hands was on his shoulder, and she smiled at him with her crazy mouth.

"Protect me?"

"Those other ghosts, and that horrible Sabrina! I got them. Killed them. Ate them." She floated away a few feet, and held out her claws in front of her. "I... ate... them."

Sabrina was dead? And the other ghosts? He gulped on a dry throat as he stared at his sister, or, some thing, some monster, that looked like a twisted version of his sister.

"You can do that?"

"I... I didn't know. I just... I just did it."

Sándor let out a quiet sigh, and everyone looked to the man as he lowered his hands.

"I've seen other ghosts do this," he said, "deeper in the Great Below. Old ghosts. Angry ghosts."

Mary snorted and shook her head. "I'm not old."

"True. But your circumstances are special." The poor guy winced and clutched his skull again, but managed to recover before Triss could touch him.

Which was when people finally realized Beatrice was here, as in, Jacob's student, the enemy. They all slowly looked at her, even the werewolves and Damien, who managed to stumble their way over.

Jack forced himself to look at them. And they forced themselves to look at him. The Ripper getting out when it did was the worst possible thing that could have happened, they all knew it, and they all knew they couldn't let it stop them.

"I'm not letting him out again," Jack said, "even if that means..." He half expected someone to say something, maybe something like 'no way, you can't kill yourself'. But the looks on their faces, even their werewolf faces, said it all. They were terrified of him, and they didn't disagree with his plan.

Sándor gave him one hard look, but he turned and faced Athalia. "What's going on? I thought you were going to stay in the physical world, in case something happened."

"Something did happen," Athalia said. "You idiots let your guard down and got locked down here, and it looks like one of those azlu things's webs was blocking you from tunneling out."

"How'd you find out?" Jack asked.

"Your birds," Triss said, offering a tiny smile and tinier wave. "They realized you were trapped down here. They went looking for help. Couldn't find any. Eventually Scully came to me."

Scully and Mulder, taking the initiative? He'd given them specific instructions to stay out of harm's way, especially where Jacob and Black Blood were concerned. But, he had encouraged them to think for themselves. Good thing he did.

"Okay," he said, "let's take a few minutes here to recoup. I... The Ripper did a lot of horrible shit, after the ghosts and azlu showed up. Let's... figure out... who's still alive."

Beatrice and Athalia stared at him, only now the reality of what happened sinking in.

Damien managed to join them on his own, but his face wasn't doing any better. It was taking everything he had to not fall into torpor on the spot. The werewolves transformed back into human form, and all of them managed to get back up on their feet, too. Barely. They joined the group, and every one of them kept Jack in the corner their eyes.

"Carter?" Jack asked. Avery shook her head. "Fuck." Nodding, head sagging like the old anchor was back, Jack found a big rock to sit on, and winced every second it took to get on it. His insides were on fire, and he kept flexing his right hand, feeling the tendons fight against wounds.

Sándor moved from person to person, and helped them all sit on a nearby rock. They needed it. The werewolves were stubborn, but even they accepted the man's help, and sat or leaned against the big rock a little ways from Jack. They refused to have their backs to Jack, even as they tried to hide it.

Damien sat down on Jack's rock.

Jack couldn't help but laugh, and it sounded a little choked. "Damien you fucking idiot."

The man shrugged, and of course regretted it immediately. Everyone was fucked up, beaten and broken, but Damien couldn't heal as well as Jack or the wolves. His jaw was still fucked, and every motion he made, he took care to not put any momentum into it that might make his jaw move. Give him another twenty or thirty minutes and he might be able to heal the bone enough to get the jaw working, but that was it.

"Okay, elephant in the room," Jack said. "The curse is under control again, and will be for the rest of the night. Even if something happens, I'll take back control immediately. You saw me do it, and I'll do it again."

The wolves, Sándor, and Damien all looked at him, eyes heavy. They knew what he meant. For now, he'd found the will he needed to bring the curse under control, by trying to kill himself. And it fucking sucked.

Cry later. Fix the problem now.

"Second elephant. Uh, Athalia and Beatrice and Mary are here."

Triss threw up her hands. "If you're worried I'm some sort of sleeper agent, don't be! I had no fucking clue what was going on, that Jacob and Black Blood were up to anything, and fuck you guys, I resent being kept in the dark."

Jack smiled at her. "Yeah, we figured. But if you knew, you really think you'd be able to keep the secret from Jacob? That he wouldn't sus it out?"

Flailing hands turned into limp arms, and she grumbled as she slipped them into her jean pockets.

"Well fuck me."

He almost apologized, but they had no time.

"You here to stop us?"

"You fucking kidding me? I'm here to save your ass! You and Sándor and everyone else."

You and Sándor. The gargoyle glanced her way, and she glanced his. Just quick glances that didn't mean anything to anyone else, but Jack knew Triss pretty well, and after the shit he'd seen in Sándor's mind, he knew him well enough, too.

"Once we're past the azlu webs," Jack said, "Sándor can take us through a tunnel down deeper, where Black Blood is performing the ritual. We expect resistance, especially if Black Blood's convinced a bunch of ghosts to help him."

"Sabrina was unstable," Sándor said. "Easily manipulated." Mary snarled at the man, but Sándor didn't react. Probably for the best. "I don't think Black Blood will so easily manipulate the ghosts deeper in the Great Below."

Jack raised a finger. "Before we get going, I need some details. What happened with Scully and Mulder?"

"After Scully came to me, bitching and whining," Triss said, "we realized everyone was gone. Everyone except maybe the Prince, or the Begotten. Since everyone's convinced Jacob's behind all this, I figured, hey, Prince might not exactly trust me, you know? So Jen and I went to see Athalia. She told us what was up."

Everyone looked at Athalia, but she just shrugged.

"Jennifer and Beatrice were in the dark, and if not for her, I wouldn't have come, or have Mary for backup. And those ghosts and that Sabrina girl would have killed Jack, and probably the rest of you, too."

"Yeah, so don't you fucking judge us." Triss pointed a finger at Jack, and twisted it around a few times. "Shit is going down, and I want to talk to Jacob before everything explodes. You all think he's going to start an apocalypse. I think the man deserves a chance to talk."

Everyone looked to Beatrice, listening, before looking to Athalia again.

"Hey, I told her the plan was to stop Jacob and Black Blood, no matter what."

"And that's bullshit. Jacob may be a lot of things, but my boss is not some fucking psychotic murderer out to kill everyone." Triss pointed at Jack again. "And I've seen him with your mom. You might not like to think it, asshole, but Jacob's been great with her. Fuck me, he might even love her."

It was like someone stabbed him in the ass with a red hot poker, and he ground his teeth as he forced down the reflex to cringe.

"I know."

"Well then, what the fuck? Y'all just gonna hunt him down and kill him? I want to hear what he has to say! And you fucking owe me."

He let out a slow sigh before nodding. "Jen--"

"Went to go see Bitch McBig Tits. And now your asshole girlfriend is holding her hostage."

"And Jen--"

"Told her what was up, about all this." Triss gestured around her. "I asked the Prince for her help, but she said she was too busy."

Too busy meant she was doing something directly connected to the situation. Rescue? Maybe. But more likely something to do with stopping Jacob and Black Blood. She didn't tell Jack what sort of stuff she was up to, explaining that it was better they didn't all share with each other every secret, in case Jacob managed to figure out what someone was up to, he wouldn't figure out everything. Not putting all the eggs in one basket, and shit like that. It made Jack feel like he was working for the government, and vomit inducing as that feeling was, it did make sense.

Nodding, Jack rubbed his head a few times. Pain. Still not enough new skin to protect all the bits. He looked back to Sándor, and watched as the man checked in with everyone.

Athalia, Mary, and Triss had come down to save their asses. And they'd succeeded, mostly. He did owe Triss for that. The idea of bringing his sister along terrified him, but Mary wasn't Mary. It was her ghost, a remnant, something not her. And at the moment, she was the scariest one out of all of them.

Which pretty much sealed the deal on whether or not they were coming.

"I know Sándor and Athalia are coming. And I can't stop you two." He gestured to Triss and Mary, but all that got him was a couple frowns in return. Triss's frown was scary, and Mary's was utterly horrific. He moved on. "Damien, Avery, Clara, David, Mason, Erica, Noah. I... don't think you should come. You're injured, and--"

"It doesn't matter," Avery said. "Even if we were missing our fucking arms--"

"Hey," Mason said, and he gestured to his half arm. The werewolves laughed, though they regretted it immediately, each of them groaning and clutching their ribs.

Every single werewolf looked like they'd been through hell. Bleeding, faces smashed in, visible dents in their bodies, broken limbs they'd managed to get together enough to function, barely. It was a mess. And every time Jack forced himself to look Clara's way, she looked back at him, and for some reason neither of them looked away, until it started to sting.

Jack only had one eye, and while he'd managed to heal some of his face, he knew it still looked pretty fucked up. The fact a werewolf had raked him straight across it was probably still blatant. And she looked like someone had smashed her face in with a hammer. If she had any teeth left, he couldn't see, since she could barely open her mouth and her lips were swollen. One of her eyes refused to open, even more swollen. Her cheek bone looked broken, and from how her arm dangled, he knew that was worse than broken.

But that wasn't the worst of it. The Ripper, never satisfied with just a physical beat down, taunted her, found what he thought were the best words to hurt her, and used them. It was a good thing Harcourt wasn't here, or the Ripper would have ripped his guts out and worn them like a hat, all for Clara's sake. Anything to hurt her. Anything to hurt Jack.

So they stared at each other for a little while, just long enough it made things worse, before they finally looked away.

"Then, I guess we get moving," Jack said. "We continue on, get out of the range of these spiderwebs, and Sándor pops us open a tunnel to the center tear, a few levels down." And to seal in the imagery of how fucking scary that was, he pointed down, at the endless mist beneath their feet.

Mary hovered over to him. He almost recoiled, but forced himself to meet her empty black gaze as she gently poked one of his wounds. Gently enough to not hurt him, thank god.

"I'll protect you. And Mom."

"Mary, I--"

"I'll protect you. And Mom! I won't let anything happen to you. Mom won't be alone! It won't happen! Won't! Won't! W--"

"Mary," Sándor said, "the ghosts deeper in the Great Below are extremely violent, and their age has made them inhuman. They won't be..." His voice trailed away as Mary slowly turned her head, a full one eighty degrees, and glared at him. It was enough to have everyone squirming.

"We believe you," Triss said, hands raised placatingly at Mary. "Just, everyone's a bit beat up, and maybe a little crazy right now. We need to be smart, right?"

Mary drifted away from Jack and joined Triss's side. The two of them continued talking, but Triss managed to sneak a glance Jack's way, and a nod. She was on Mary duty, then. Thank god someone was. If Jack had to play chauffeur to his unstable, and apparently crazy psycho strong, and mutated sister's ghost, it wouldn't end well.

"Jack, a word? In private?" Sándor asked.

"Uh, sure, yeah." He looked to Damien, but before his dumbass friend could get off the rock to give them privacy, Jack hopped off instead. After giving Damien a small pat on the knee, and an eye roll, he walked off with Sándor maybe fifty feet. Everyone watched them, except Mary. No doubt he wanted to talk about her, and she was the only one who didn't have the presence of mind to realize that.

"Your sister's ghost has changed."

"Yeah, you said that."

"I've seen ghosts like her before. Ghosts evolve as they age, especially those in the Great Below. It only gets worse the deeper you go."

"But she's never been in the Great Below."

Sándor nodded slightly as he looked down, before taking a quick peek at Mary through the corner of his eye.

"She's... on an accelerated path. Likely because--"

"Of all the shit she's been through. Getting resurrected, dying again, all the other shit, I can't even fucking imagine."

"Indeed. I've seen ghosts like her before. Some places called them the moroi, or moroaice. They were devourers, and that included living things."

"Jesus..."

"Other places called them banshees. They are... violent ghosts, Jack, and hungry."

A banshee. That'd certainly explain the constant screaming and wailing she did when fighting or breaking things.

Jack rubbed his buzzed hair. There were a slices through it where skin had grown over but hair hadn't, and he frowned down at the mist as he rubbed it some more.

"We'll run into more ghosts like that, when we go deeper?"

"Maybe. The ghosts down there evolve into many strange things, often abandoning human shapes. We'll avoid them, as best we can. But..."

"But we might need Mary's help to deal with them, right?"

He looked Jack in the eyes, face solid steel.

"Yes, and it could get her killed."

They looked at each other for a few uncomfortable seconds before Jack looked down and rubbed his head more. Her dying wouldn't necessarily be the worst thing, and they both knew it. And holy fuck, Jack felt like fucking dogshit for thinking it.

"It's a good thing she's here. We need her help."

"I know, and I don't disagree. But I thought you should know... I've never seen a ghost as... degraded as her, not get worse."