My Little Ventrue Pt. 02 Ch. 07

"It's a good thing I'm really, really good at what I do then." He lowered her veil then, took a small step back, and just looked at her, up and down.

"... Mister Mire, your gaze is most unbecoming your station!" She tried to keep a straight face while faking her more uptight accent, but failed miserably. The veil hopefully hid it well enough.

"Sorry." He leaned over the railing of the balcony, but kept his gaze on her. It was obvious he was drinking her with his gaze, and he didn't hide how much he was looking at how the dress hugged tight to her hips and ass.

"You really want a piece of this already? I just got here." She leaned out over the railing too, but made sure to stick her ass out a bit toward the wall behind them. "You'd think you just ate and had a full belly getting you riled up."

He laughed. "Sorry, but the way you strutted in here? If I didn't know better I'd think you were a Ventrue."

"It's the dress. It was sewn with the souls of a thousand dead children, I'm sure." She looked down at the how the dress crossed her torso at an angle, shoulder to hip. "Is this why Ventrue always wear suits and gowns and shit? Cause just wearing it is really making me want to boss people around, like I'm some kind of queen."

"Indeed." He kept his elbows on the railing, but slid closer to her until they were touching hands. He hooked his pinky finger around hers, and she was glad the veil hid most of her face, cause holy shit everything he did was so hopelessly romantic and it always worked so damn well on her.

"You came with Garry." Julias gestured out to the group of Kindred below them on the floor. "He hates these parties more than anyone."

"Heh, he does kind of look like a bulldog someone's forced to wear a tux." The visual had her grinning madly behind her veil. "He needs a bone."

"What's the metaphor?"

"A bone! A lay. He's so busy all the time trying to run the Carthians. Typical edgelord with no social life. No ghoul to keep him company even." She shrugged and turned around, put her shoulders back on the railing again, and re-hooked pinky fingers too. Fuck it, full romance mode.

"He seems like he's lived a hard life."

"Hey, what kind of life did you have? You know, when you were alive." She motioned toward the crowd beneath them with her head. "Something like that?"

"No. Well, maybe a little. Just a young banker who managed to work his way out of poor family. Long story short, I had a rise to power, Viktor noticed, became my friend, groomed me for the embrace, and turned me without even asking." He shrugged. "The US was about to conscript for World War I, and he didn't want me in that."

"Silver lining?"

He nodded.

World War I. Fuck Julias was old. "Wife and kids?"

"Wife."

"Oh... well damn, man. What happened to her?"

"You really want to know?" he said. "It was a long time ago."

"Yeah, I think I do. We've never really talked about your past. You know mine, just a single girl with a vampire stalker."

"My wife, she...." He reached up and scratched his neck. Nervous was he? "I vanished from her life, but kept an eye on her. She moved on, found a new husband, had children. Lived happily ever after. Without me."

Shit, maybe not so good a question. That somber, brooding look he sometimes wore was back on his face, and she had to reach out with her free hand and touch his chest to break it. "Hey, sorry. So uh... when's dancing?"

That put some spark into his eyes.

"Dancing?"

"Mhmm. Nothing fancy! But I can at least slow dance in this dress." Of course she wouldn't tell him she had to relearn how to slow dance cause the last time she did it was prom back in 1980.

"No dancing until there's music.... You seem to be warming up to this life pretty quick, Beatrice."

She shrugged and fluttered her dark eyelashes at him some more. "Every badass woman has a princess inside her just waiting to be pampered."

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~~Natasha~~

What the ever living fuck.

Julias and Beatrice? What? Since when? Why? Fucking... how? She watched them walk past her and up the stairway, up onto the balcony, and then proceed to kiss, touch, talk, all like it was second nature to them. So they must have been together for months by now. Think. Analyze!

She had no idea. She never kept any feelers out on Beatrice, because there was never a reason to. She was just a punk Carthian, and with her shark mouth, it wasn't like she could just walk into a building and not be noticed by someone. Anyone. Was she that skilled at the cloak of night? And why was Julias so interested in her?

Arg, so many questions. She looked over at the others, and they were just as confused as her. At least the young paiges had the sense to not stare.

Worst of all, the two of them looked really, really, really good together. Julias was a smart, wise, confident man who always had a certain aura of sadness. Beatrice was fairly young, volatile, full of attitude, and angry. Just watching them was making her envious. They laughed together, flirted, held hands, touched, kissed, like watching yin and yang swirl.

"I don't fucking believe it," Jessy said.

Natasha could only shrug. "I had no idea. Wh... wh.. what could Julias be thinking?"

"Thinking with his dick."

"No. He's t-t-too smart for that. He'll... just look. They like each other."

Jessy looked up at the two of them, stared for twenty seconds, and then looked at Natasha before mock gagging. "I bet they fuck all nice and gently too."

Natasha rolled her eyes, and made sure Jessy saw it.

What did Garry think of the couple? She looked out to the center of the room where Garry was still walking. The scary brute was just as scary in a tuxedo, largely cause of how off it looked on him. The young Invictus avoided him, not because he was particularly grotesque -- hell Garry was a sexy man -- but he was a loose cannon. Other Carthians came up to him, talked to him, but even then Garry seemed out of place.

And he was keeping an eye on Beatrice, Natasha could see. Constant glances. He was worried about her.

"Julias never ceases to amaze."

Natasha and Jessy jumped. Maria had drifted up to them, quiet as always.

"Madame Turio, he... I had no idea," Natasha said, and looked down to avoid eye contact with her master.

"Nosferatu need companionship as much as the next Kindred, Madame Vola."

What? That was weird. Maria never talked like that. Natasha forced herself to take a peak at her master. The ghost woman was looking up at Julias and Beatrice, and she had the smallest of smiles on her lips.

"Does the sight of it disgust you?" Maria said.

Natasha put up her hands in defense, complete with wide eyes. "No! No Madame, just... surprised us."

"No offense about the Nosferatu thing, ma'am. Just surprising to see a Mister Mire with such a no name." Jessy gave a small jerk of her thumb toward the two on the balcony. "Beatrice is just some punk Carthian who gets in our way sometimes. And honestly, I never pictured Julias with any Carthian, let alone shark-mouth."

Natasha clenched her teeth and stepped on Jessy's foot. Damn it Jessy, you're already on Maria's bad side.

"It's true. Mister Mire," Maria said, with extra emphasis on the proper Invictus address, "does seem like he would prefer a proper individual. But then, you seem like you would prefer the company of dogs." And, of course, the ghost woman said 'company of dogs' with just the right inflection to make the sexual connotation obvious. "We are all capable of surprise."

Jessy lowered her head. Just let it pass Jessy, before the Nosferatu woman rips off your head.

"... if... you'll excuse us.... Madame Turio." Natasha reached out for Jessy's hand, gave Maria a small bow, and walked off to join a different crowd of Invictus.

"God I hate her," Jessy said once a decent amount of distance and noise was behind them.

"D-don't... poke the bear."

"I wasn't po—"

"Shark-mouth?"

"That wasn't—"

"You two talking about Beatrice?" Jack had walked up to them. That young neonate had grown quite bold, but it wasn't unwarranted. He was quickly gaining responsibilities meant for older vampires, and according to his sire, it was entirely on his own merit. "Sorry. Madame Vola, Madame Herrington." And a bow to follow.

Natasha smiled and nodded in return, but Jessy laughed.

"Kid I ain't your boss," her Gangrel friend said.

The boy smirked at Jessy. Natasha had assumed the boy would be quite anti-social and have difficulty talking, based on what she knew of him, but Jack talked with a confidence befitting a Ventrue. Was it Julias, or the Prince rubbing off on him? Or that Ventrue bloodline?

She envied him and his sire both.

"Yes, Master Terry," Natasha said. "We were a little surprised to see Mister Mire and Beatrice were involved."

"I... suppose you don't know Julias like I do." Jack looked up at the two love birds on the balcony, rolled his eyes, and looked back to Natasha. "Mister Mire was just going through the motions of this second life, like he was on auto-pilot. Lacked a spark of his own. She's that spark."

Natasha tilted her head to the side, and looked Jack up and down again. He gave her a quick glance and when he noticed she was looking at him, he had his own shy reflex and avoided the eye contact, like she did. He was just a kid after all, not even a year embraced, but... he saw things with self-awareness. He was smart. Julias's childe, he was.

"I... think you both look quite beautiful tonight."

Natasha blinked. Jack dripped awkwardness, uncomfortable giving the compliment, and was struggling to keep eye contact, but he was standing his ground like he was fighting a battle.

Jessy erupted into laughter, and wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Kid, I like you. Flirting like your sire? Nice. You got a thing for older women?"

If Kindred could blush, she was sure Jack would be bright red. Just the topic was making Natasha uncomfortable.

"He is the Prince's companion, Jessy. You'll get your head torn off before the night is over."

Jessy immediately let him go, but frowned hard enough it probably hurt her face. She was really on a roll.

"Sorry, about the horribly delivered compliment. Just... trying out this socialize for fun thing. Not really my thing." He looked back up at Julias for a quick moment before back to Natasha. "I'm not sure how he does it."

"Socialize?" Natasha almost giggled. Jack had all the makings of a Mehket. Why did Julias pick him?

"Well, socialize, dance the Danse Macabre, and not become exhausted."

"He's a natural," Jessy said. "Which is why we were all kind of surprised when he sired you."

"Hey...." Natasha leaned over to give Jessy a sharp elbow in the side. "Be nice."

"No, it's alright." Jack help up his hands. "I don't exactly bleed confidence and royal demeanor, it's true." Despite his words, he gave them both the most subtle, sly grin. "And it's ok if that's all people see. Julias sees different. So does the Prince."

"Very true kid. You got me stumped. Hey! Waiter!" Jessy flitted off -- with no limit to her unending rudeness -- and stopped one of the waiters to grab her and Natasha a glass of blood each.

Her friend was rude, an idiot, and obnoxious, but when Natasha looked down at the glass Jessy put in her hand, none of those things really mattered. She really did miss having Julias in the Invictus right hands though, to offset Jessy's bluntness.

"Shit. You want one kid?"

"I'm good, th—"

"Now presenting... Alder Jacob, leader of the Circle of the Crone... and companions Othello and Jennifer," the court marshal said.

Say what?

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~~Jack~~

Jack looked to the door like someone had slammed it shut. Jacob? Circle of the Crone? They never came to the parties, gatherings, ball, none of it. They hid in the dark and stayed there, like the boogieman. What the hell were they doing here?

Jacob was obvious. The man had salt and pepper hair to ear length -- grey hair on a vampire was practically unheard of -- and he wore dark robes made of leather, fur, and ornate in complexity of straps and weaves. It was kingly, and scary, as if Attila the Hun had dressed for a ball. And the black bandage wrapped around Jacob's eyes completed the ensemble. The oldest Kindred in the city looked the part.

Othello, a huge man with dark skin and long black hair, was dressed quite extravagantly and beautifully, as Daeva did. Jennifer was a young Ventrue, not as young as him but young still, and dressed in something he'd expect to fall off of her and leave her naked at the slightest breeze.

He didn't notice at first, but everyone had stopped talking. Everyone was staring at the trio, or Jacob at least.

"Friends!" The Nosferatu made a sweeping gesture. "Please, continue with your evening. I am here only to visit, as you are." And just like that, the ancient Kindred stepped down the stairs and joined a crowd of Carthians.

They were all frozen stiff with surprise, or fear. Both, definitely both. Garry moved to Jacob though, and the two struck up a conversation, as if they'd done it a million times. Had they done it a million times? There was a strange ease between them, something that had Garry relaxed and comfortable.

Julias's lessons about reading body language were paying off.

"What's he doing here?" Natasha said.

Jessy stepped up beside her friend, and her brow was furrowed. For a second, she reminded Jack of an angry lion. "Yeah. What's a witch doing at a ball?"

"The invitation was for everyone," Jack said.

Natasha shook her head. "There's a... an unwritten rule... the P-Prince doesn't like witches... at her... events."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Jessy said, "they make other Kindred nervous. At least you can trust a dragon to be smart and logical. A witch? ... ever seen Battle Royale?"

Jack lowered his head. Yeah, he'd seen it.

"Jessy exaggerates... a little. Alder is an Invictus title, and Jacob brandishes it like a joke." Natasha took a moment to smooth out her dress before looking at Jack. "Be careful with them. They would let the city rule under survival of the fittest, if they had the option."

"They don't have the option." A surprise grin hit Jack. "My girlfriend would crush them."

The words had came out of him before he even knew he'd say them. Both Jessy and Natasha looked at each other, then at him like as if he'd turned into a different person.

And it was sort of true. Something about everything Julias and Antoinette had been telling him was starting to ring true in his skull. The other Kindred were looking at him with interest, intrigue, even a little fear or awe. It was not even one hundredth the shock and awe that Jacob or the Prince inspired, but it was enough to stroke his ego and set that Ventrue blood in him aflame. He wasn't so stupid as to let hubris destroy him, but the Danse Macabre was not a passive game. He had to get in there if he wanted to stay on top of the invisible war before him.

So he gave Jessy and Natasha small nods of departure, and walked off to find Jennifer. Start at the bottom, and work your way up.

He knew nothing about her. The beast in his gut told him he didn't need to be afraid, and that she wasn't much older than him. And, upon closer approach, the way she stood up straight and met his gaze was a clear signal; she was Ventrue.

The first one he could talk to since Viktor and Julias, and the only one near his age. There was value in that. Her dress made things difficult, as it was barely move than a few pieces of silk strung over her shoulders and dangling from her hips. The strips were just barely see-through, so he could see the slight change in color of her nipples. Normal height, with a lean and firm build with raven hair at her shoulder. For a second, Jack thought he was looking into a mirror of what Beatrice looked like before her Nosferatu disfigurements.

"Good evening," he said. "I am Master Jack Terry, young neonate of the Invictus."

Jennifer blinked at him, took another sip of her glass of blood, and lowered it to her exposed stomach where her other hand ran a finger along its edge in circles. "Jennifer, Circle of the Crone. You'll have to forgive me Invictus, us witches have little use for last names."

She was looking him up and down with a single brow slightly raised, and a tiny smile. If Julias was correct, that meant she liked what she saw.

For a moment, he wondered if he spent his entire first life missing what were now fairly obvious signals of interest.

He liked what he saw too, of course, and no amount of Ventrue stature could hide his aroused gaze in front of the nearly naked, beautiful woman. But fear of Antoinette ripping him in half set him straight. "Jennifer. Are you enjoying the ball? As I understand it, Circle of the Crone rarely join these affairs."

"Yeah." She shrugged, like it were the most innocent of things. "The Prince doesn't want us here, and we don't really want to be here. But tonight's special, right? First time a ball's been held here in a long time. Hell, first time I've ever been in this palace."

"Special?"

"Yeah special. To celebrate peace." She rolled her eyes and waved off the word like it was meaningless. "Or whatever."

"Not a fan of peace?"

"Not a question of my taste, young Ventrue." One of the servers walked by, and she scooped a glass of blood from their tray like she'd been living the served life her whole life. She passed it to Jack as if the thought of him not taking it were impossible. "Just an illusion. Struggle is the nature of existence, after all. If peace were truly a thing, it would be something to avoid, because without struggle we'd all atrophy, devolve, and fade away." Another sip. "And even the dragons can agree with us on that."

Definitely a Darwinian view, but logical. It made him smile. "I can agree with that, if we accept the premise we are creatures bound by natural selection."

"Aren't we all?"

"Self-awareness comes with perks. A wild animal with no understanding of self is molded completely by its environment and genetics. But with sentience, we can step outside that paradigm. A conscious, aware choice can be the basis of guided evolution, rather than natural evolution." He mirrored her sip. "We can choose different goals to be what we sharpen our claws on, instead of sharpening them on each other's bones."

She tilted her head to the side a little, smiled wide, and chuckled. "A good counterpoint. I'm impressed. I disagree that that choice can be made, but hey, what's a second life without disagreements?" She stepped a little closer then, and looked him up and down again. Her grin remained. "You're Julias's childe, right?"

"I am." He stood up a little taller.

"Lucky man." The fellow Ventrue nodded up with her head toward the two on the balcony, Julias and Beatrice. "She's a beautiful monster, that Beatrice. Bet she fucks like a wild cat."

He managed his own grin, but she'd surprised him. He'd assumed a Ventrue would talk proper, but this one had no issue getting her words dirty.

The way she was looking at Beatrice though, there was a little more to it than casual lust. Did she know Beatrice? Why would a witch know a Carthian? But then, why did Julias? He was probably reading too much into it, but Jennifer's gaze lingered on Beatrice for quite a while.

"So tell me, why are you asking?"

"Huh?"

"About the Circle. Why are you asking?" She'd started talking before she lowered her gaze back to him. Crafty.

"Well... there aren't many of you. It's rare to get to talk to one of you."

"Talk to Carthians often?"

"Touché, but their goals are obvious, understandable, and I know plenty about the Carthians from talking to other Invictus. You though, the Circle are a mystery and an intriguing one."

"Everyone so damn interested in us lately," she said. "There's nothing complicated." She stepped closer again, and leaned down to blow a little bit of air at his face. How rude. "We're the monster in the woods. We hunt, we kill, we eat, we survive. Where you worship money and real estate, we worship ancient gods and the elements of nature they represented. You guys spend your time looking for a good contract, we spend our time looking for a good mark, to kill or to fuck."