My Little Ventrue Pt. 02 Ch. 06

He was damn proud of his childe, but he wasn't about to shower him in praise. Not yet.

"So, we need to talk to Garry, and get some more information," he said.

"You think I'm ready for this?"

"You think every sire takes their childe to multi-million dollar business deals? You think every neonate can dominate half a dozen kine?" Julias reached out and gave his childe a hard punch in the shoulder. Maybe a little praise.

Jack almost fell over, but kept walking and rubbed where he punched him. "Antoinette said I had a talent for it."

"I sired you for a reason Jack. I said I needed you to watch my back, remember? So hey, I'll let you in on a secret." He leaned down then, but kept walking. No need to draw attention. "I'm young. A hundred years for my position? Very young. And you are in the same boat. We're young, and when things go bad, people will underestimate us." He chuckled and ran his fingers through his blonde hair. "Never underestimate a Ventrue."

That got the kid walking with a little confidence in his step. Good, Jack deserved it. He had the drive, the obsessive drive to master and overcome obstacles of a Ventrue, now all he needed was the confidence it deserved. As long as it didn't inflate his ego to disastrous proportions, as had a tendency to happen with Ventrue. Like Viktor Honors.

The neighborhood only grew more urban and downtrodden. It wasn't like the city underbelly, filled with vice and disease. Instead it was just hard working folk with no time or money to waste on frills. There were far less people on the sidewalks, and the buildings were often brick and stone, painted horrible ugly colors. The streets were cracked, patched, and all the road surface markings were faded. Taxis and buses and old cars that sounded like they ran on coal.

The kine here were hardened, tough, loyal. The Carthians probably thought of themselves the same way. Maybe Garry was, and Beatrice too, but Julias had been in enough tussles with the rebels long enough to know better. Like all the other covenants, the Carthians had their own agenda, and weren't above underhanded bullshit to get it. The Invictus had clashed with them for centuries in more places than Dolareido. Grudges die hard.

So two Invictus walking through their half of South Side, even with the peace, was not exactly welcome company. Eventually they got to a part of South Side that was pretty empty, even quiet, and that's when the Carthians started to come out like locusts. The damn rebels were always looking for a fight, to the point it was printed on their faces. They stood leaning against street lights with arms folded across their chests, t-shirts with skulls, tattoos of chains, and baseball bats or tire irons in hand.

And then there were even more them. Some in front, some behind. One of them sat on a car's trunk, a pistol in hand and a big smirk on his face. He was a big guy, thick, bald, built like a bear.

"The fuck is Julias Mire doing this deep in Carthian territory?" He dinged the trunk a couple times with the handle of the gun.

"I need to talk to Garry." He kept his hands in his jacket pockets, but didn't back down. It was all just posturing, and this Carthian Gangrel postured like an animal, like some bird puffing up.

Julias postured like a king, with a straight back and a knowing smile.

"Then fucking call him. You don't just show up unannounced, Mister Triumvirate."

More Carthians started to gather. Steel-toe boots, jeans, and miscellaneous weaponry abound. They had formed a loose circle around Julias and his childe, but they kept their distance. Jack looked around, over his shoulder, and back at the growing crowd, but Julias managed to catch a glimpse of the kid's eyes.

Jack had a small grin too, and was standing the same way Julias was. The message was clear: the two of them were businessmen, not thugs.

"It's pretty important, and I'd rather not do it over the phone."

"... uh huh." The big guy hopped off the car and started to walk toward him. "And you couldn't call to make an appointment?" He said appointment with enough emphasis that it was practically spat at Julias.

"Who says he didn't?"

Like a choreographed dance, everyone turned and looked to the apartment building across the street. An old, abandoned thing, with paint peeling off the walls and cracked windows. In the open doorway stood Garry, with a buzzed head and a short scruffy beard. He wasn't tall, and he wasn't huge, but he had all the markings of a man who grew up splitting his knuckles fighting bare-fisted. His hard face had a lot of scars on it too, and considering Kindred healed wounds when they slept, it meant they were from before his embrace.

"Boss, you knew these guys were coming?"

"Yeah Joe. Rest of you, fuck off. Joe, get in here."

With some obvious groans of disapproval, everyone dispersed. Joe walked into the building after Garry, and Julias gave Jack a wink before following him.

Once everyone was inside the lobby of the apartment building, and Julias had closed the door behind him, Garry snapped his hand out, caught Joe by the mouth, and forced the much bigger man down to his knees. Jack was dumbstruck, but Julias had to keep from smirking. Maria had done the same thing to Jessy not long ago. Except Garry had actually put three of his fingers into Joe's mouth, and was squeezing the man's jaw hard enough to split skin.

"A member of the fucking Invictus triumvirate shows up and you have the god damn nerve to get lippy with him? Joe, give me one reason I shouldn't rip out your tongue. That'll take a few days to regrow."

Julias did his best to not laugh. He was pretty sure Garry wasn't Joe's sire, even though they were both Gangrels, but Garry was just that sort of hands-on kind of guy.

Joe made some muffled noises.

"Fuck it." Garry let go of him with a backward push, and Joe was forced to get to a knee before standing up. "Start trouble with the Invictus just one more fucking time and I'll stake you and let Mire here decide what to do with you."

"... sir." Joe lowered his head and walked out, but not before both Julias and Jack gave him the most subtle smirks.

"Mire, this better be fucking good. The fuck do you want to talk about that you couldn't talk about on the phone?"

"Lucas."

"The fuck do you want to talk about Lucas for? Dude showed up and basically painted a bulls-eye on his forehead. The Prince or the sheriff will have his second death, sooner or later." The Gangrel just shrugged.

"Can we... talk somewhere a little more private?"

"And the kid?" He pointed at Julias's childe.

"Master Terry is my partner in this," Julias said, and gave a head nod in the boy's direction. Jack affirmed with a nod of his own. "Besides, it's not secret information, just sensitive."

"... fine." Garry went for the stairs, and the two Ventrue followed.

Only after ten flights of stairs did Julias notice how long it had been since he'd last taken the stairs in a building. It was no trouble for a Kindred, but the direct comparison of an Invictus in a suit riding the elevator, versus a Carthian in jeans walking the stairs, was poetically accurate.

A minute later, they were in one of the rooms. It was just a regular apartment room of a low-rent building, except the furniture had been removed and replaced with a desk and chair for Garry to sit at. He motioned for Julias and Jack to sit, and Julias reached for one of the equally unimpressive chairs. Jack looked around, devouring the information with his eyes, before also sitting.

"K Mire, you got your fifteen. The fuck do you want to know?" Garry leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on the table, all the while picking at his fingernails with a knife.

"Lucas. You and him were at each other's throats for a long time."

"You make it sound like a juvenile spat, Mire. Kindred died."

The dark look Garry gave him put a dent in his composure, until Julias was forced to lower his head in apology.

"I understand. My question is about his new behavior. No one knows what sort of tactics he used better than you."

"Be specific."

"The Lucas I remember was meticulous and careful. He had a dozen Bishops and churches he used as bases and he slowly expanded. But now he just... he just showed up, and is squatting in Tony's old nest with his ass exposed."

"Yeap. And I agree, that is very weird." Garry brought the knife up to his teeth and picked at them idly. A pointless habit for a vampire, but more than enough to catch Jack's eye at least. "Kind of pulling a Jesus, isn't he? Rises from the grave and just plays nice. Far as I've heard, he's just sitting in Tony's underground network and preaching the good message." The Gangrel choked on the words with a harsh chuckle.

"Can you give me any insight into why?"

Garry stabbed the knife into the desk hard enough that it made Jack jump in his seat, but the elder didn't even look the boy's way. He kept his eyes on Julias, and Julias did not break his gaze.

"Invictus sat on their asses and watched me fight that fucker for years. Why the fuck do you care what he's doing now?"

"I wasn't on the council then, Mister Tones. My sire may have had no issue with the Lancea et Sanctum, but I do. I am not about to let Lucas ruin the peace, and I am trying to make up for Viktor's mistakes." It was like staring down a raging bull; he had to be careful. Garry wasn't just a Gangrel, but a Carthian, and that was a frustrating cocktail of unpredictability and violent tendencies.

"Heh, you got balls. Not even an elder yet and trying to play with the big boys."

"You did the same back then, and held your own against Lucas and his army of zealots."

"Touché," Garry said. "So, Lucas... never seen a Mehket so comfortable talking to crowds. Your typical Mehket is meticulous and careful, like you said, but Lucas was more than that. He had the patience and intelligence, but also the belief."

"Belief?" Jack said.

"Yeah kid, belief. We're talking about a covenant of religious types, right? Well, unlike your typical religious fuckwad, Lucas really fucking believed in that Testament of Longinus shit. A lot of elder Sanctified just use the covenant to pursue power -- which is typical and expected -- but Lucas was not that sort. He really bought into his own sermons."

Julias leaned back in his chair and put a couple fingers to his chin. "Do you think fifty years of torpor could change that?"

"Not a chance. I've seen long torpors do fucked up shit to an elder, like Viktor." Garry threw Julias a harsh glance, but continued on. "But Lucas would die for his beliefs, and bring everyone else down to hell with him for them."

That made Julias sit up straighter. Kindred were selfish creatures, normally. They cared about blood and the safety to see another night, and that was it. It was a rare thing to deal with a Kindred who fought for other reasons.

"You think he'd sacrifice his flock if it meant achieving a goal."

Garry chuckled, gravelly voice and all, and started rolling the knife along his knuckles. "I know he would, Mire. And if history is any indication, a long torpor would only drive a crazy man crazier."

Each time they mentioned torpor, and the effects it had on sanity, Julias noticed Jack wince. By now, Jack's eyes had wandered off, and he was rubbing his buzzed head with his usual nervous ticks. He must have been thinking about Antoinette.

"Indeed." Sorry Jack. Antoinette would have to go through such a torpor in the future. Julias just hoped, for Jack's sake, the Dragons and their hidden talent for suffering torpor well would save her from such a fate. "So if there is one thing we know, it's that Lucas's goal is to further the Testament of Longinus above all else, and now with such a long torpor just past him, he may very well take that to the next extreme."

"Yeap. So, what are you going to do about Maria?"

"You know about Lucas and Maria?" Shit, the conversation was going in a direction he didn't want Jack to know about. The less he knew about such behind-closed-doors behavior, the better.

"Better than anyone, Mire. More than once I had that ghost bitch on my ass. She tried to kill me a few times, and did every dirty, underhanded trick she could to kill me so save her precious Lucas."

Shit shit shit. Julias looked to Jack, but the boy was listening intently with fingers netted in front of his mouth and nose. He was devouring information again, and when he looked back at Julias, he could see the awareness on the boy's face. He knew what he was hearing was deadly.

"But hey," Garry said, "she failed, and then the Prince lost her patience and ended things herself. Bygones, right?" He rolled his eyes and started flipping the knife in his palm. "I fucking wish. Keep an eye on her, Julias. You may have a good head on your shoulders, but that bitch is fucking vicious. If Jacob and her were trapped together in a room and had to fight it out, I'd put my money on her."

Julias groaned audibly. He dealt with Maria all the time. She was intelligent, self-aware, capable of making reasonable decisions, and extremely talented in the Nosferatu disciplines. Normally she'd be the one he'd rely on over Michael, but now that Lucas was in the picture, that would have to change.

And Garry's faith in her was not expected. Fear her over Jacob? The witch had almost two-hundred years on Maria. Sure, Maria Turio was terrifying like most Nosferatu; she was basically the ghost girl in the well. But against Jacob?

"Alright, thanks for the info, Mister Tones. I hadn't realized Lucas was a little... different, than most elders. I'll see what I can do to stop this fire before it burns down the city." He got up, gave Jack a nod, and turned to leave.

"Mire, about Beatrice."

Julias looked over his shoulder. Jack was in the middle of getting out of his chair, but stopped halfway. Garry was sneering at the kid, and his eyes drifted between the two of them.

"Yes?"

"She's neck deep in some serious shit I doubt she's told you about. She likes you though, and I expect you like her." He leaned back in his chair again, and idly rotated the knife along his knuckles. "Keep her out of trouble, would you?"

He half expected a Dad speech about Garry hurting him if he broke her heart.

"... I will."

He gave a small whistle, and Jack resumed from his freeze position to stand and walk after him. Garry said nothing else, not even a dismissing hand gesture. He just looked at the knife in his hands, and went silent with thought.

Fifteen minutes later, they were back in the taxi. Jack and Julias gave each other occasional glances, but were silent. He'd just dumped a lot of dangerous info in the kid's lap, and Jack knew it. He was processing it, breaking it down and analyzing it, just like Julias was.

But unlike Jack, Julias's mind kept wandering back to Beatrice. What sort of shit was Garry talking about?

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

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

~~Damien~~

Natasha was the sheriff's childe.

That was where he recognized her personality, her character, her movements. It all held just a hint of the monster's taint. The quiet and stillness of cold, and then the sudden action of brutality.

He put a finger up to his forehead where she had shot him. It was a hazy memory, and a weird one, the feeling of a hole in the skull, and then darkness. She'd been so... timid seeming, and then before he even realized what was happening, she'd put a hole through his face.

As if a cold stone could strike out with lightning. Just like the sheriff all those years ago.

He moved fast. He took the telescope with him, scooped up the components into his bag, and took off with as much speed as he could muster. All the Mehket speed in the world, all the shadow tactics and cloak of night he could muster, every bit of silence he could get from each step, he poured his vitae into it and vanished from the tower. He couldn't leave a trail, and he couldn't take his time.

He covered miles in minutes. No one spotted him, no one stopped him, and before long he was deep underground and tearing through the sewers. A hidden doorway there. A hidden hatch here. A winding tunnel. The Prince may have owned the city's surface, but its underground was his home, and no one knew it like he did, not even that witch Jacob. Navigating the underground tunnels was as natural to him as playing an instrument.

And before long, he was back in Tony's abandoned tunnel network. As he approached, he could hear Lucas, and the chorus of a hundred voices agreeing between bits of sermon.

He walked in, and everyone turned to look at him. It was the largest room of the complex, with massive walls that echoed every noise. Huge metal walls created interesting acoustics, and the sudden silence made every motion ring loud. He set the pack down, careful of the sensitive bits of a telescope, and headed up to the podium. Everyone watched him.

"Sire, we must speak."

Lucas tilted his head to the side. "Is it urgent?"

"Yes."

"Then, I am sorry children. Bishop Damien and I have business together. Take the message and keep it inside, and use it to control that beast in your chest. We are damned, and only by serving God's plan is there a place for us."

"As Longinus," they said, together, as an army.

Damien smiled and nodded to each Kindred that made eye contact with him. He saw that look in their eyes, that look of fulfillment, and satisfaction. They had a place to call home, a belief to drive them, and a man to look up to. They looked up to Damien, true, and he preached the word to them with patience and knowledge, but Lucas was different.

Lucas was like Jesus Christ to them. As the congregation filtered out of the hall, Lucas walked among them, patted them on the shoulder, knew their names, and gave each of them specific advice. Knowledge was a Mehket currency, and Lucas wielded it well. Combined with his quiet, wise demeanor, they flowed around him like a school of fish.

"Bishop Damien, I...." A fellow Mehket walked up to him. Vivienne, Natasha's childe. A tiny, frail thing just like her sire.

For a moment, he considered taking her hostage, and using her to control Natasha, and in turn perhaps control the sheriff? No, too distant a connection, too risky. It'd give him no control over Invictus repercussions.

He shrugged off the exhaustion that made his bones tremble, and forced a smile. "Vivienne?" He was Bishop Damien now, in these tunnels and halls. The children did not know of his nightly exploits, and it was best to keep it as such.

"I wanted... to apologize for my sire. She was only—"

Damien held up a hand. "Don't worry, Vivienne. She was only trying to protect herself, and you. I was in error to try and detain them."

"Jessy was in error!" The tiny thing had some bark to her. "She killed... and it didn't need to escalate like that. Natasha was just trying to... and then Jessy...."

A pat on the shoulder. It was all it took, just a simple pat on the shoulder, a small, gentle smile, and Vivienne's downtrodden expression managed to rise to something of relief. He walked her down the isle and out of the room, and gave her a small shove to send her on her way.

"There is a plan for us all, Vivienne Maiorie. There will be justice, don't worry. Now go." He waved her away, a fish cast back into the ocean. She looked like she was about to say something, but a confirming nod from him was returned by one from her, and she left with the abridged Testament held close to her bosom.

Then he turned and met with Lucas. His sire waited for him in the isle, dressed in a black robe and wearing a necklace with a tiny spear dangling from it. They both nodded to each other, quiet, hushed, as Mehket always were, and they waited for the congregation to fade away.

Then, they moved to the next room. The door, seemingly innocent enough, was sealed, soundproof, and the walls it met with were as well. The room inside was not large, but once they'd closed the door behind them, it was the safest place to converse.