My Little Ventrue Pt. 02 Ch. 10

The tiny Mehket looked down, then around at the array of Godliness around her. Damien managed a small smirk. She wasn't panicking, but he could see she wanted to.

"What and why," he continued, "is because we need to disarm the sheriff. He won't stop us while we have you."

Her eyes went wide, and they flickered around in the same way his did when thinking at extreme speeds. Yes, little girl, that's right, we know.

" ... and ... Lucas said ... Maria is letting you d-do this?"

"Indeed. We promised her you would not be harmed."

"Harmed? What are you ... you're..."

He nodded, but his smirk vanished. "You will be going with us when we assault the Prince."

Her eyes opened so wide, he could see far more than he wanted. It hurt. He hated that it hurt.

"B-b-b-but the Prince ... she'll..."

"We will see, we will see."

With that, they both went silent. He watched her, she watched him, and like edges of sand in the wind, the tension faded. Just two Mehkets sitting in the dark, thinking, analyzing, just like home. After a while, he got up and began to look around the small room, at the paintings and the artifacts, and the sword on the alter he had touched earlier, Saint Peter's sword. He dared not touch it again; the images and emotions the ancient relic had scarred him with were terrifying and powerful.

"Damien," she said. He looked at her, and motioned for her to continue. "D-did Maria, did she ... really just ... betray me?"

He sighed and shrugged. "Lucas talked with her, not I. It is the two of them who care for each other."

"She betrayed me..." The little girl pulled her legs up to her chest and lowered her face to her knees.

"Your safety was promised."

"You can't promise that! If you're going t-to use me and force Daniel to stand d-d-down, you'll have to take me there and ... show it."

"Yes."

"And ... you're all just going to ... attack the tower?"

"Yes."

"That's insane. Crazy. Lucas is crazy! I read a lot about Lucas, and ... he was always ... brutal. He—"

"Archbishop Lucas was a beacon of purity of God's purpose, Invictus."

Natasha blinked at him, like he was speaking insanity. "You ... you're only as old as me."

"And?"

"And ... you don't know. You don't have access to the records."

"I know enough!" He stomped toward her, and she cowered backward into the corner. "We serve the church, we serve God. The Prince and Garry and the sheriff, they marched in here and slaughtered the priests, the Bishops, even the faithful who dared stand against them!"

"They d-did that b-b-b-because ... Lucas was taking over, and killing ... everyone."

He froze. What?

"It's true," she continued. "He ... and the Bishops, they ... killed ... a lot of people. They were t-taking over, and ... a lot of Kindred died."

"Then they must have deserved it."

"They did not! This was ... it wasn't what you think, Damien. Your sire was ... slaughtering p-people b-b-b-b- ... before the war began."

Anger rose up through his body. He slammed the sword down between her legs; he didn't even remember when he'd drawn it from its sheathe. They locked eyes. She was ready to cry, but like a chipmunk, she scrunched up her face and glared at him.

The tiny girl shook her head. "And ... and now you're going to ... attack the Prince directly. K-kindred will die. Do you ... do you think Lucas is ... innocent in this?"

He gripped the handle of his sword hard enough to hurt. He wanted to cut her head off right there, but he would not. He needed her, not a pile of ash.

But it wasn't just that. Truth ate at him, terrible in his gut, cockroaches on his skin, burning behind his eyes. The way her pathetic eyes glared at him with defiance ringed so loud it threatened his mind. He was just a child back then, not yet embraced, and he had looked up to the vampires and even ghouls around him with nothing but envy. Every word Lucas had said, that his Bishops and priests had said, he had absorbed with need.

And it was all falling apart. Was it all an act? Like with how Lucas had spoken with the Prince at the ball, calm and wise. All an act? Fifty years, did he spend fifty years serving a sleeping master only to have such madness greet him? Like a twisted black play, and he was the tragic figure to be undone by his mistake.

He really wished he could stop thinking. Stop analyzing. Stop questioning everything and just accept faith. But dark, disgusting thoughts were laying bits of trail before him and he could not look away. Mehket were creatures of secrets; he gobbled them up and put them together whether he wanted to or not.

"He is—"

The door opened.

"Bishop Damien, how is our prisoner?"

It was Lucas. He had a warm smile on his face, one that reminded Damien of the old days when he had first met the man. Natasha frowned though, and Damien found he had to look away from Lucas's face now. The subtle smirk on his sire's face and twitch of the eye, they were like cracks in a porcelain mask.

"She is ... fine."

"Is she then?" The ancient Mehket got down onto a knee before the tiny woman, and pulled back the hood of his robe. "If you would turn around please? So that we may detain you. The effect of this presentation will be stronger if you are awake, but I will stake you again if I must." The Archbishop produced some black rope, and gave it to Damien.

"How ... d-d-d-d-..."

Her stuttering made Damien grit his teeth. He wanted to slap her hard enough to drive her timid nature out of her skull.

"Speak, child," Lucas said. His warm smile never wavered.

" ... How did ... you find out about me."

"Divine intervention!" Lucas got up and raised his hands in a praying manner. "Damien has been my scout for my entire slumber, Miss Vola. He has devoured information about all the covenants, and he has kept an eye on all of you in that time."

" ... when ... Daniel visited me."

"Indeed." The Archbishop stepped over to Damien and patted him on the shoulder. "He observed it all. My Bishop has served God well."

Damien smiled, but it was hollow. Natasha looked at him, with a quiet begging in her eyes, but also a glint of awareness. She saw the doubt. She saw the cursed thoughts he could not shake.

He got down next to her, she turned around, and he tied her hands behind her back. The rope was strong, strong enough for Natasha, or any Mehket for that matter. He made sure to use a knot a crafty creature like her could not slip either, something that would have ruined her hands for lack of blood if she were alive.

She said nothing, but looked over her shoulder at him, and stared into his eyes with little bits of fury in her gaze.

He looked away.

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~~Julias~~

"Did you just send a topless selfie to my childe?"

"Bah, he's seen my tits before. Besides, kid probably has his dick between those giant tits the Prince is sporting every night."

Well, he was certainly happy his childe was enjoying himself, but the image was unneeded.

He reached out for the woman and hugged her closer to him. They were both in the master bedroom, cozy under the ridiculously luxurious blankets, and naked. Beatrice wasn't even trying to act disgruntled or anything; instead she was snuggled against him with a cat's grin, rubbing her breasts and nipple chain up and down the side of his torso in teasing circles.

"So," he said, "I know you've been up to something."

"Oh?"

"Garry tipped me off. Said you were in some shit? And I can see you've been rather ... sneaky lately."

She sat up, smiled a wicked smile, and dragged one of her monster claws up and down his chest. "I have been. It doesn't have anything to do with you though."

"Keeping secrets from me?"

"Oh, mountains. I've been making friends, moving up in the Danse, but it's nothing to worry about."

The wording was weird. Nothing for him to worry about? "Can't tell me?"

"I could ... I just ... I don't want to ruin anything. I'm pretty happy and call me paranoid but I've had a pretty shitty life up until now. I'd like to stay happy."

"Same boat."

"Ha! You've been fucking bitches and living in luxury your whole second life."

"Yeah, but I've never been happy with it." He took her claws in his hand, and his other reached out to caress her cheek. She hated his romantic gestures, but he didn't care. Right then, just holding her hand and touching her face, brushing her hair aside, even running his finger down her giant extra teeth, it made him happy. "You think I'd give you up?"

"Well ... no." She tried to ignore his touch, but he was no child. He knew just how to touch her, how to read her expressions to see what she liked, even if she hated that she liked it. "Just, I don't know, it's pretty big."

"Something you can't tell me because of the Carthians?"

"Ah, uh..."

He stroked her thumb with his. The huge claw that excited where a thumbnail normally would was terrifying in its own right, but he was used to it. Thrilled by it even, with how its sharp tip ran along his chest on its smooth side. Like coaxing a scared animal to him, he just went slow, and continued to slide his fingers along her jawline. "Yeah?"

"Um ... I'm not a Carthian anymore."

He didn't see that coming. " ... really?"

She nodded, and looked away. The expression was hard to read. Embarrassed maybe, but happy? Proud? Like a little girl with a secret, but one she was dying to share.

"I joined the Circle of the Crone."

Jaw drop. " ... you're a witch?"

"I don't think they like being called that. I'm an Acolyte," she said. His hand had dropped from her mouth from sheer surprise, and it earned a frown from her. "What do you think?"

"I think ... I think ... I don't know, honestly. Really, not sure what to think. You work for Jacob?"

"Work for isn't really what the Circle does, you know? Jacob is the alpha, I guess, but we all sort of ... follow his lead." Her eyes fell, and she sat up a little straighter, away from him. "Don't approve?"

"I have no love of Jacob. I can't deny that." He sat up with her, but when she tried to pull her hand in his grip away, he did not let go. "But ... tell me about it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. All I know are the hard details, not the experience. And ... you do seem happier, as of late."

She grinned a huge grin and slid back in closer to him again. "Part of that is because of you, and your stupid white knight bullshit that I can't seem to shake. And part is because ... life in the Circle just makes so much more sense to me."

He quirked a brow down at the creature as she pushed her shoulder against him. The Carthians were dangerous, but predictable. Jacob though, he thrived on stirring chaos, just because it served as a culling. The ancient Nosferatu liked to keep the Kindred numbers from growing too large; he wanted them to be few, and strong. If Beatrice was a witch -- Acolyte -- now, then she was among those Jacob prized.

He thought back to when Beatrice had saved him, and had torn Rebecca apart with her claws, a vampire much older than her. Yeah, his girlfriend was very dangerous.

He liked that.

"I had no idea. Does anyone know?"

"Just Garry, the Circle, and ... the Prince. Cause she's too fucking smart."

"Agreed. So you're an Acolyte then? How does that work? What secrets am I privy to, dark creature of the night?"

That made her chuckle. "I can tell you whatever I want, hell I can do whatever the fuck I want. There aren't any stupid rules. I'm given freedom to be my own animal." She crawled onto him then, complete with a cat crawl arch in her back, and she slipped onto his stomach to straddle him. "No stupid ideologies, no stupid power structures of complicated red tape. We worship ancient gods that have been around for thousands and thousands of years!"

Holy shit. He had no idea Beatrice had such a primal side to her. "You worship gods?"

"Not really, but Jacob points to all the creation myths, the vampire parallels of many entities in these myths, and the myriad of gods that have existed since well before written history." She shrugged, and slid her claws up and down his chest. "I'm not going to say I believe it, but I'd be stupid to ignore the possibility. Have you seen what blood magic can do? Cruac? Fuck, Julias, the things ... like, ancient things. Things so old it defies explanation. Things that lived in the Earth for ages. Things old, dark, things done with blood, death, and sex." Her hips were moving back and forth, and she blushed for him. In seconds, he could already feel her wetness on his stomach.

Her new covenant life agreed with her. It really scared him, the lack of rules, the religious views of ancient gods and old ideas like blood sacrifices, but ... it reminded him of the first time he'd really talked with Beatrice. Back in the catacombs, when she had both saved and captured him. Something about that dark, scary, beautiful monster straddling him was just so damn arousing.

"I uh ... have to admit ... that is a whole new level of scary stuff from you." He blushed too, and he was right behind her in arousal. His erection raised, and she slid herself back so it rested between her ass cheeks.

"Good." She leaned in closer, and placed her fangs against his neck, just hard enough so he could feel it before she started kissing his jugular.

"I—" The phone rang. It was Jack's ringtone.

"Fucking hell. Should I send more pics?"

"No, no I think if you did, and the Prince saw, she'd deal with him." He sat up and reached for the phone. "And then she'd deal with you."

"Ha yeah, good point."

He hit the button on the phone, but had to pull it away from his ear when the loud cracks and explosions of noise assaulted his ear. "Jack?"

"Julias! Get help, get fucking help! Here! Now!"

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~~Antoinette~~

It was just her and the sheriff.

All alone in her office, she had her wall converted to a digital touch display. The idea had been planted by her Invictus primogen, and she had to admit that she enjoyed both the compromise of digital and tactile, and the ease of its use. Before her, she had her city map displayed, but also the mappings of its sewers, the underground network Tony had built, the Circle of the Crone pit in the rock canyon, the districts of feeding zones she had given to each covenant, and the Elysium zone where she deemed violence was not allowed.

But there was more than that, things only she and Daniel knew. There were the various colored circles around various places, places where the Carthians, Invictus, and the expunged Lancea et Sanctum housed influence. Also were every Wyrm's Nest in her city circled, places of mystical power that only she could appreciate. She, her sheriff, and that infernal witch Jacob.

She reached out and touched one such circle of power. A ghost had haunted a mansion there. She touched another; catacombs where, deep in underground layers far below what Beatrice had explored, undead and mindless corpses roamed. Another Wyrm's Nest was a spring beneath forest and rock, and the strange energies there attracted things that she did not understand. Ghosts, but not ghosts. Spirits, entities, things that did not speak but existed. It was where she spent much of her secret life learning her Coils of the Dragon.

But her eyes were on Tony's underground network. Tony knew it was also a place of power, a gentle one, but one that created a point of influence. It gave power to voice, and neither she nor Tony could figure out why. But Tony did not need to know why, he was content to abuse it. And now, she imagined, Lucas too was abusing it.

That idiot fool would not understand why his words would resonate with such power in Tony's old nest, and he probably did not even realize it was unnatural. The nest did not brainwash, but it just a touch more influence to any preached message. "That fool will have every wayward soul serving his delusions by the end of the year, Daniel. I should have sealed that nest shut when Tony was killed."

"We didn't know. Lucas's childe raised him only days after Tony's death," Daniel said. Voice quiet, monotone, dressed in his long coat and wearing his boring glasses. But at the moment, she could use his predictability. He was the rock she could rely on in their conquest.

"Do you think Lucas will leave, as I demanded?"

"Perhaps. Even if every covenant-less childe and more than that joined him, he would not have the power to stand against both us and the Carthians."

"I do not want the Carthians involved. Garry will bring fire, explosives, bullets upon bullets, and destruction. I do not want that again. We need to be surgical."

Daniel stepped up to the map, reached out with a gloved hand, and pointed at the entrance to Tony's underground nest. "Perhaps we should not wait? If we move now, we—"

Red lights started to flash on the screen. Not just the main screen though. She moved around to her desk and down at her laptop, where the screen displayed more flashing red. Daniel blinked at her, and she clicked a few prompts on her software. Multiple camera feeds appeared on the wall display, and they all showed the same thing.

Lucas, surrounded by at least fifty robes, walking up to her doorstep.

"He ... he cannot be serious," she said.

Daniel stepped closer to the wall display, adjusted his glasses, and then reached into his robes. The sword he carried was long, something that belonged in ancient warfare, unlike the shorter and more intimate swords used by Kindred in the modern age. The blade was thin, it had a subtle curve, and Daniel had to reach behind his neck to draw it upward and out to the side. She would have said it was something from Japan, but the blade had no ornamentation or even layers to its grip. The blade was as lifeless as the man himself.

Panic hit her. Jack. For a split moment, she had forgotten her lover was downstairs. She could only hope he had stayed within the the basement of her tower.

She stomped after Daniel, and moments later they were both in the elevator. "He is insane."

"Probably."

"This carnage could summon the police!"

"Perhaps."

"He is only recently revived from half a century of torpor! He cannot hope to face us in combat."

"He'll have a trick up his sleeve."

She nodded while she flexed her hands in front of her. Here and now then. Here and now, on her own doorstep, the madman was going to bring his fate. She did not fear for herself or Daniel, but her ghouls were downstairs, and so was Jack. Losing her ghouls a second time would be a horrible tragedy, one she was not sure she could withstand without leaving many, many Kindred tied to her rooftop for sunrise. But losing Jack was not acceptable. She would not have it, could it not have it, she would burn her whole city to the ground to kill Lucas if it came to that.

The elevator was not a slow elevator, but every second was a wasted one, and by the time it finally dinged open, she was ready to tear through the door. But just as it opened, Lucas stepped in through the front doors of her glass tower, at the opposite end of the Lobby.

"Prince?" Jack said. He was leaning against the wall by the elevator and playing with his phone.

"Jack, my Jack, please get downstairs, you must—"

"Antoinette! Daniel! How lovely to see you both here." Lucas made a grand sweeping gesture with his arms. He was wearing the same sick, disgusting robe from last night, and just like last night his crowd of robed followers fell in beside him.

Her assistant Chunk backed up and away like someone had laid Ebola at his feet. Jack inched to the side, back to the wall, but he too was just as shocked as her assistant.