My Little Ventrue Pt. 02 Ch. 02

Jacob gave a slow nod. His face turned serious, very serious, which was so very odd on his almost constant Joker expression.

"Lucas has risen from torpor, and that means there will be conflict soon."

"Lucas?"

"An old friend from long ago. When the Prince was finally at the end of her patience, she expelled the Lancea et Sanctum, and killed the Bishops and Priests. Lucas, the Archbishop, disappeared, and no one was able to find him. We had simply assumed he left Dolareido, even me, but I was wrong."

She just listened, and as he talked, her mouth dropped more, and more. He talked about it like it were the most casual thing, but he was talking about the purge of the Second Estate. It was well before Beatrice's time, but she'd heard the stories. She knew about the Prince and the Sheriff, and the killings and the blood hunts. It was the the story Garry told them, when they questioned if they really needed to bother with any of the covenant bullshit.

"So he was in torpor?"

"Yes, deep in the bowels of the city. Only his childe Damien knew where."

"How the fuck do you know all this?"

Again with the Joker smile. "This is not just the Prince's city, as many would believe. It is also mine." He shook his head then, and gave a long, slow, psychotic chuckle. "I like you. You're fun."

Every conversation with this insane Nosferatu elder was like some twisted vision of her future. If she lived another four hundred-years, would she be this ridiculous? She'd be strong enough to do whatever she wanted, but Jacob was so hard to follow.

"So your test is to confirm something for me. I want you to sneak into Tony's underground network. I am sure that is where Lucas has set up his new nest. Then I want you to determine what you can about this childe of his."

"You don't know him?"

Jacob frowned, turned, and started to pace his altar of blood. "I don't. This Damien, probably his new Bishop, is a sneaky creature. A sneaky Mehket is something to worry about."

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

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

~~Julias~~

Sometimes, it disturbed Julias, how quickly he adapted to his new role.

Maria Turio and Michael McDonald seemed happy with him, at least. The Nosferatu ghost woman, and the big brute of a Gangrel slid into a rhythm with him that felt quite natural. They talked as a council, shared views, debated with intelligence, and even wisdom. His two fellow council members did not preach of meaningless values or views like a zealot would, like Viktor sometimes did with his mindless devotion to the Invictus.

It was pleasant. They could argue sometimes, but he was arguing with equals, and that was satisfying.

"Miss Amanda Pol and Master Jordan Leval have both disappeared." Michael made a grand, sweep gesture to the giant touch screen that covered the wall. They were in their primary meeting room, at the top of the Xnomina HQ, and the three of them were standing and looking at the screen's display of a map of Dolareido.

"They were only a few years embraced, still young neonates," Maria said. "Perhaps they were caught unawares by sunrise?"

Julias shook his head. "I'd thought as much, but I've already asked their sires. They'd looked into it and both agreed it was highly unlikely. The two are simply gone."

Michael grumbled, adjusted his tie, and leaned forward until he'd placed a hand against the wall, beside the wall display. "Last seen here." He reached out with his other hand, and drew a circle on the display around a chunk of South Side. The display app circled it in red for him.

"Near Tony's district." Julias got up and stood next to Michael. They were both tall, broad guys in suits, but Julias standing next to Michael felt like standing next to a barely-contained wild animal. He was a Gangrel though, so Julias was just going to have to get used to standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Tony's gone, and Rebecca's gone. We know of no one else in his flock of covenant-less fools who would be both strong enough, and stupid enough to kidnap or kill our Kindred."

"Then perhaps something else is going on?" Maria walked around the table to join them. Now the ghost woman was on his other side, looking like a freshly dragged river corpse as usual. Just being near her was enough for Julias to feel the unnatural cold pour off her. "We've seen unusual activity from the anarchists. Even without their leader, they are doing something. They scout their area like it were still their territory."

Michael grunted. "Without Tony or Rebecca to stop us, why don't we just march in there and stake them? Put them out for sunrise one at a time, one kill a day, until one of them tells us what we want to know. They have no covenant to claim them, so the Prince will not mind."

Julias shook his head. Staking a vampire in the heart paralyzed them, forced them into torpor until the stake was removed, so Michael's plan would certainly work. But hell no. "They're all neonates, Mister McDonald. Tony was the only elder, and Rebecca their only ancillae. They are just children."

"No, they are not." Maria was the one to frown this time, and the tiny corpse looked up him from behind her flat, black hair. "Do not let your new role as sire cloud your judgment, Mister Mire. Unless I am correct, your childe was quite thorough in undoing the damage of an error on their first night. Beheading the kine corpse, I believe, of someone he'd killed in frenzy. Not childish behavior."

Invictus had good memories. "... he did, yes. Master Terry is not as easily broken as most fledglings though."

"Perhaps, Mister Mire. Perhaps. But the fact remains, we should not underestimate them, or be lenient simply because they are young. They had every opportunity to join the Invictus, even the Carthians." Then she gave a small smile, which was all sorts of disturbing on her quiet face. "Even if they'd joined the Circle of the Crone, at least they would have been a known factor."

"Then I suggest we investigate first," he said. He stepped closer to the screen, and drew several lines along rooftops and subways. "We send two or three Kindred we can trust to handle themselves. They can report back, and we can make an informed decision then."

"It's a smart choice," Michael said, "but it delays action by a night. Maybe two."

Julias gave a small nod, and looked to the animal on his right. "We do not survive centuries by jumping to conclusions. "

That earned a small smile from Michael too. Julias always knew what to say to make them happy, and get his way. He really did have a knack for this; Viktor would have been proud.

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

Natasha and Jessy walked in, and Julias gave them both a small nod. He was leaning back against the table of the meeting room, while Michael and Maria sat further back at the table. They were there to listen, nothing more, he hoped.

Little Natasha, the Mehket, and Maria's right hand. A bit short, with long black hair and dainty features, he worried she'd one day wake up and find her skeleton had cracked in half. She really was too thin, but she was fifty-years embraced; it was far too late to tell her to eat a sandwich. She was in a casual gray business suit, pants and single-button jacket over a white shirt. It was so plain, so Mehket. She reminded him of the sheriff.

Then of course there was Jessy. Short blonde hair that, he had to admit, looked pretty sexy on her boxer figure. She was almost as tall as him, and had no trouble meeting his eyes and trying to stare him down; she reminded him of a panther. She too was in a suit, black, but her jacket was open, her shirt unbuttoned enough to show some of the black bra underneath, and a pair of sunglasses hung in the pocket. She even had a gold necklace that trickled down between her breasts, and long gold earring chains.

Thirty-years out-of-date fashion sense, but that was alright. He knew what that was like.

"Madame Vola," he nodded to Natasha. "Madame Herrington." Another nod for Jessy. Using titles of address was proper for Kindred in the Invictus, whenever discussing things in an official capacity, but for the moment, he just wanted to rub their noses in his success. What good was there in being on the triumvirate if you couldn't tease your old comrades.

They both give him back their own, weird, slightly embarrassed nods.

"M-mister Mire. You summoned us?" Natasha said.

"Indeed. I have a mission for you two." He walked over to the digital map on the wall; for a second, he reminded himself of Viktor, strategizing and giving orders. "Miss Pol and Master Leval have gone missing. Last we heard, they were hunting near Tony's old grounds." He circled the large chunk of South Side where Tony used to nest. It was prime black market territory, with a lot of bars and a lot of dark alleys that made the alleys of the business district seem tame.

Natasha took a tiny step forward. "T-that..."

"Madame Vola?"

"Yesterday, my childe Vivienne... Miss Maiorie... she did not report in. I had assumed she had simply forgotten, lost in her w-w-work." Natasha looked down, then to the side when worry painted itself on her face. "Her apartment is near there."

Julias looked back at Michael and Maria. Now things were personal for one of his chosen, but the two of them dismissed it with a slight wave of their hands.

"Keep an eye open for Miss Maiorie then, but understand your primary objective is to determine what happened to Miss Pol and Master Leval. We know Tony and Rebecca are dead, but he had a lot of underground networks built over the centuries. There are entire labyrinths we should get mapped, later. For now, we just need to know what's going on that's caused our young neonates -- three now -- to go missing. The moment you can answer that question, return here."

"And if we find out they were killed?" Jessy said. Growled, practically.

"Return here."

"Come on Julias, you can't expect us to—"

"Did I stutter, Madame Herrington?"

Cold did not do justice the tone of his voice. Jessy was a powerful, willful Gangrel, but her impulsive bullshit was a liability. He could nearly feel Michael smiling behind him; Jessy's sire was more than happy with his approach to crushing Jessy's juvenile stupidity.

"... no, Mister Mire."

"The operation is to begin tomorrow night, two hours after sunset. You have the rest of the night to prepare."

"Are we expect-ting a fight?" Natasha said.

"Something happened. I trust our Invictus neonates to be more than punctual with their check-ins. So if they're not checking in, then..." He shrugged, and gestured to the map on the wall again. "Just be prepared."

"Yes, Mister Mire," the two right hands said in unison. After a small nod, they both turned and were gone.

Julias sat back against the table, and kept his eyes on the map. What was going on? There were no attacks against Xnomina lately, no trouble with the Carthians on Invictus borders. Everything was quiet. Even Jacob, or his Circle of the Crone group, hadn't caused any trouble lately.

"What do you think you'll find?" Maria said, her elbows on the table, fingers netted and chin on her knuckles.

"Honestly? I've no fucking idea." Julias ran his fingers through his blonde hair, slick backed against his head. "If it were werewolves, there would be a lot more damage than a few missing neonates."

"The Seven? Perhaps the Strix are connected?" Michael said.

But Julias and Maria both shook their head.

"I can't see a pattern. Until we have one, we can't push forward on this," he said.

"Indeed," Maria said. "In the meantime, I would like to discuss the ball the Prince has planned. The Carthians will be there, Garry will be there..."

Julias tried to listen, but his mind wandered to thoughts of Natasha and Jessy. Normally he'd be going with them, and he kind of missed the thrill of going on a mission. He'd been in dozens of fights with Tony's anarchists, and sometimes the Carthians when they got rough. Deaths were rare, but they happened, and the last thing he wanted was his old partners coming back in urns.

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

Part of his promotion was getting Viktor's old mansion, and now that he had it, he had no idea what to do with it.

It was a classic thing, something built a ways out along the edge of South Side where only the most filthy rich lived, where there was actual space for roads, small hills, and grandiose buildings. There was no official name for the district, but most simply called it Rich Side, and the multitude of hills it was built on were enough to raise the heights of his mansion so his window view saw over much of the city. And he did find himself staring out that window on a regular basis, with both hands netted behind his back.

He'd seen Viktor stand like this a million times, but he never imagined himself doing it.

When he looked down behind him, he got flashes of the Victorian era. Massive, curling stairways lead down into spacious rooms with classic furnishings. There were no TVs here, all electronics were hidden and subtle, and his front door was a giant pair of wooden doors. There were pillars of white, carpets with ornate patterns of red and gold, and all sorts of extra rooms that were useless. He did not need six bathrooms. He barely needed the one.

And when someone knocked, they used a door knocker that sounded like a club against a church bell. With a groan, he stepped away from the window, walked down the stairs, and headed for the door. He'd seen the car pull up, but his mind was wandering, and his body just went on auto-pilot mode to open the door.

It snapped back to awareness with jarring effect when he found the Prince at his door. The tall, gorgeous woman was dressed in something white and furry, and it matched her white hair and red lips well. Her red eyes made her look like she'd stepped out of a movie.

"Prince! I, uh... how can I help you?"

"I was hoping we could talk, Mister Mire. May I come in?"

"Yes ma'am." He stepped back and held the door for her. She returned his words with a nod, a smile, and walked into his abode. She paused for a moment to give her driver a small wave, and when Julias peaked his head out to see, he bit his cheek at the sight of the sheriff.

He could count on one hand the amount of times he'd had a direct conversation with the Prince, and now she was at his place. At his actual place, and her sheriff was waiting for her when she was done. He tried to suppress the aching fear his beast was emitting.

"Would you enjoy a drink, Prince?" Be kind, be courteous. He had the leeway to be an aggressive negotiator in a primogen meeting, but he had no such room to maneuver when it was just the two of them.

"Thank you, but I am fine." She gave a small dismissal with one of her hands; she was wearing white, elbow-length gloves. "How is your new home, Julias? Viktor's old-fashioned taste must be quite boring for you." She gave him a devilish grin before she walked over to one of the couches -- some sort of massive, Victorian lounge chair, he believed -- and sat down. "It does remind me of my previous home, oh so long ago. Such faded memories."

The lounge chair had plenty of room, so at least it didn't feel awkward when he sat down on its other end and angled himself to face her. "I forget sometimes that you are from Europe, from a different time. Your Elysium tower, and most of the architecture in Elysium seems much more modern."

"Ah, Mister Mire, I do strive to ride the waves of fashion as best I can. It can be hard, when you are as old as I."

She was a master at manipulation. She'd adjusted the conversation so he knew how old she was, ancient even, while making it seem like it was a weakness, instead of something that gave her massive power. He wasn't about to simply ask her what she wanted though. It'd borderline on rude, even though it was all he could think about.

"Viktor made no effort to change with the times. I had no idea he was so obsessed with the past until I'd inherited this home. This entrance lobby is just the tip of the iceberg. He has rooms dedicated to reliving ages past," he said.

"Has he now?"

Julias nodded. "I'm sure there is clothing and jewelry here worth more than this house, and he has them on display in glass casings."

"Oh Viktor, you always had your eyes to the ground." The Daeva gave Julias a knowing glance, and even a soft smile, like she were apologetic about something. "I am sorry for this talk of Viktor. I did not come to discuss your sire past. I came to discuss your childe."

You mean that you're dating my childe and basically have me by the balls because of it? He almost said it, too. "I... am not sure that is my business, Prince."

"Of course it is your business. He is your childe. You wish to protect him. He is also a member of the Invictus, while am I Ordo Dracul; our relationship is highly peculiar and you deserve to have any concerns voiced, or questions answered."

Well, this was going to be a weird, painful conversation. He'd planned on approaching her about this, not the other way around.

"... this is all true, Prince, but I can only be so frank."

"Say whatever you wish, however you wish. I grant you complete freedom of speech, Mister Mire." She raised a gloved hand to her red lips, and touched one of her fangs while she looked at him with an analyzing eye. "For now."

Was she trying to get him to talk himself into a corner? Those red eyes of hers were so damn hard to read. She just held his gaze, and each time her gaze shifted from one of his own eyes to the other, he could practically see the thousand possibilities she was calculating. If he said the wrong thing, he could make a powerful enemy. But on the other hand, her proposal seemed genuine enough, logical, and he had no reason to distrust her motives other than her impenetrable veil of secrecy.

Damn Dragons.

"Alright, if that is true. Then... may I ask... why?"

"Why what?"

"Why Jack?"

She raised a brow. "... why Beatrice?"

God mother fucking damn her. Did she know everything? He hadn't brought the relationship up to anyone, and the Nosferatu was good at the shadow arts.

"Beatrice... why Beatrice." He raised a hand to his hair, and let his eyes drift to the carpet. He'd never really thought about why. Can you put into words what draws a kine to gaze into fire? "She's captivating. She... she's so different than me. She cares nothing for politics, or Kindred webs. Brutal, genuine, direct, all those things I've forgotten how to be, if I ever was.." A smile forced its way onto his lips. He tried to hide it, but he couldn't. Just the thought of that damn shark-mouth and her brazen attitude, calling him out on his bullshit and forcing him to... to be alive, it was something he wanted more of.

"There is a secret, Julias dear, that I have told no one." She leaned forward then, and folded one leg over the other. He hadn't noticed her white high heels; she really did have great fashion sense. "You and I are much alike."

"... I'm sorry?"

"I first met Jack when he failing at something that came naturally to you, or me. Failing to manipulate kine for an easy meal. And when he saw me, he froze in fear as many do." She gave him a grinning wink then. He was one of those people who froze at the sight of her too. "How many fledglings do you imagine could suffer the fear of meeting someone nearly five centuries their elder?"

"... none. You are a scary creature, Prince." Careful Julias.

But his words just made Antoinette chuckle, and she looked to the floor while she traced a finger along her knee. "Jack did. He sat next to me in that booth, and it was then I noticed a strange thing. Something I'd never seen in another Kindred."

Julias blinked, and tilted his head to the side.

"Jack was afraid of me," she said, "but he was also intrigued. It was all over him, every gesture, every glance, every noise. His eyes spoke volumes, honest and open, and it was indeed captivating. He has a spark in him, Julias, that you found when he was still alive. The boy has an honest soul, and a determined one." She chuckled again, but followed it with a longing sigh that had Julias shocked. "And I know you see similar in Beatrice. The reason she despises our webs of deceit and control is because she too is an honest, determined soul."