Earth s CoreChapter 5 Middle Sector No 131
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My Little VentrueChapter 131 free porn video
~~Eric~~
His dad’s face broke into the biggest smile Eric had ever seen, when Jessy lifted her shirt.
“Holy hell,” his dad said. He sat up in the hospital bed, and twisted his whole body to face her.
“I know, right? I got pretty lucky, getting this lean without losing the tits.” With white t-shirt and black bra in hand, she bounced in place several times. Both men stared, hypnotized. Laughing, she pat her abs with one hand, still holding the clothes up to her collar with the other. “I should do modeling.”
His dad laughed. “I think you might be onto something.” With a groan, Eric elbowed his girlfriend, and she laughed as she lowered the clothes back on. “Son! You stay outta this!”
“Dad, that’s my girlfriend.”
Jessy shrugged, and flashed the old man again, complete with a few more bounces and jiggles, before getting her clothes back on for good. “Don’t worry you old fucker, I’ll send you a picture.”
His dad laughed harder, and winked. Which of course sent Jessy into hysterics, his dad too, and Eric had to drag her out of his dad’s room.
She continued laughing as they walked the hospital halls, earning some strange looks from doctors and nurses, before they eventually left the building.
“You’re spoiling him,” he said.
“Yeah well, he deserves it. He looks great.”
“He does. Doc says he’s been busting his ass. Not an easy thing to do, dealing with atrophied muscles and bed sores and diabetes and who the fuck knows what else. He’s lost eighty pounds, and considering the amount of muscle he’s put on, he’s lost more fat than that.” He was damn proud of his dad, but he never expected the promise of tits to be the way to get him moving again. There was probably more to it than that, but on the surface, it certainly looked like tits had been the carrot.
“How long till he’s out of there?”
“Next week.”
She smiled, and slipped her hand in his as they entered the parking lot. “Great. Where’s he gonna live?”
“He still has his old apartment, but it’s a pretty shit place. I’m thinking I’ll set him up in some nice retirement condo.”
“Frander’s Estate?”
“Yeah.”
“Awesome.” She nodded, and tightened her grip on his hand. After a few steps, she swung his arm back and forth with hers, like a kid happy to be out on a stroll. “Invictus own it. Not that that means much; we own almost everything in Dolareido. But yeah, I’ve checked the place out before, some routine Invictus checks and shit. Pretty sweet place, with some very sexy care workers.”
“Uh, I didn’t think he’d be getting sponge baths or anything.”
“Ha! This is Dolareido. If he wants a sponge bath from a pair of sexy care workers wearing bikini thongs, and only bikini thongs, he’s getting it, for the right price. Frander’s Estate can hook him up.”
Oh god, the image of his dad paying women for services like that was enough to send a skin-crawling jolt of nausea through him.
“Please stop.”
“Or, if he wanted a massage with a happy ending, he can get that, too, for a price. I don’t think the care workers will actually sleep with him, but yeah, sex work is pretty much everywhere in Dolareido.” She raised a brow as she looked at him. “You must have known that.”
“Yeah, I’ve known that since my fighting career took off. Got introduced to a lot of stuff like that.” Just, didn’t really think about old folks getting that treatment, especially his dad. Gross.
“Right, right. You mentioned the parties and shit you went to when you were rich, back at that Bloodlust get together. Didn’t seem like you were too into the atmosphere though, back in your heyday.”
“I wasn’t, but I thought I should have been.” A painful lesson, and one learned too late. “Just never really jived on that sorta group.”
“Maybe what you needed was the right person to jive on it with?”
He laughed. One thing Jessy wasn’t good at, was subtle hints. “Yeah, ok, maybe. That night was kinda fun, awkward as it was. And I am a guy. Breasts are awesome.”
“Like father like son?”
“Oh god, don’t. You’re going to make me puke.”
“Ha. That night went perfectly. Elaine’s a crazy bitch, and I think I like her.” Jessy leaned up toward him and kissed his ear as she whispered. “You know she’d be all over you if you let her.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’d share me with another vampire?”
“Honestly? Not sure. I’m kinda attached to you now, and letting another vamp touch you does sound like it’d make me jealous.” She tapped her chin a few times. “Still want to get a kine on that dick though.”
“Of course.” And after how much she’d helped with his dad, he kinda felt like he owed her. He already owed her a lot, too.
A mad grin appeared, and he eyed her suspiciously.
“So Jack’s gonna make me a sex tape.”
Uh oh.
“You attracted to Jack? Cause of the party? Didn’t think he was your type.”
“Dude, everyone at that little party was smoking hot. Sure, not everyone was exactly my cup of tea, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy coffee occasionally.”
“Wait. Do you even remember what coffee and tea taste like?”
She grunted and elbowed his side gently. “Shut up. My point is, just cause he’s not my ideal doesn’t mean Jack isn’t one sexy little fucker. And I am damn excited to see what he looks like squashed between all those tits.” She held her hands out in front of her chest. “My god, the tits on Antoinette.”
He laughed. “So, assuming I eventually agree to a threesome, is that the sort of person you’re going to find me? Just, find the woman with the biggest boobs?”
“Nah. With you, I’m gonna find someone super tiny, like Natasha. I wanna see someone small try and fit your werewolf dick, you know? See the outline of your cock on their belly while you stretch them to near bursting.” She quivered and smiled maniacally with her words, and rubbed her arms with her free hand, the other squeezing his. “I could get under her, and you fuck her doggy style, and I Kiss her while you fuck her, and—” He elbowed her in the side, gently, and she laughed.
His phone buzzed. He groaned, checked, and raised a brow. “Uh, it’s from Avery.”
“Avery? The fuck she want with you?”
“Dunno. Says she has something important to tell me. And she figures I should bring you, too.”
“Important, but willing to have me hear it?” Jessy frowned as she looked at the sidewalk. “Yeah sure, I’ll go. Bitch will probably make me wait outside, though.”
He sniffed the air as he stepped into Avery’s usual apartment building. Something was off. He expected a stronger smell, considering the building was populated mostly by Uratha, and Uratha had a distinct odor. Biological odor aside, they also had a spiritual odor, something he could only get a hint of; Avery told him he’d get a better nose for it as he got older.
“You know, we’ve been talking about sharing you with humans, and maybe a vampire,” Jessy said, “but we never brought up the other options. Fiona’s dating Damien, and I know that choir boy wouldn’t share. And Athalia ... yeah, not her. But what about the other werewolves?” She smirked at him as they started up the stairs. “They got some hot bitches.”
“You know, I’m pretty sure they take offense to being called bitch.”
“What? Why?”
He shrugged. “Guess they think you’re calling them a dog. Wolves got a lot more pride than dogs.”
Her hand gripped his shoulder for balance as she snorted on a laugh. “That’s the insult they take away from that? Not the, you know, being an asshole part, just the reference to a dog?”
“I guess, yeah.”
The snorting laughter continued, until Eric had to slip an arm behind her to keep her from falling down the stairs.
“Uh, pretty sure we’re here for a serious meeting, Jessy.”
“Bah, it can’t be that serious if I’m allowed to be here. Even if I’m outside the door, they wouldn’t let me close if it was important.”
He nodded, and looked ahead as they stepped into the hallway. A shitty, old apartment building with lots of strange smells, mostly age and the growth and shit that came with it. There was also the smell of Avery’s pack, just, not as strong as it should be. And now that he was only a dozen feet away from the door to Avery’s apartment, he knew he should have been smelling them more. And hearing them more.
Without a word, Jessy reached into her pants under her shirt, and pulled out a pistol. She’d insisted on a quick stop at her apartment before coming here, for an innocent pistol she assured was absolutely required before she went visiting anyone in ‘werewolf country’. It paid to be a paranoid vampire.
“Do come in,” a voice called from the other side of the door. “Don’t make us force you in.”
Eric and Jessy looked at each other, and then to the ends of the hallway. And out of the fucking air, stepped a few Kindred, on each side. Every one of them had guns in hand, and not pistols. Two assault rifles and one shot gun, for each group.
Evidently, it wasn’t just Eric getting stronger as the months went by. He recognized a few of these vamps from the scuffle he’d gotten in with them on the streets months ago, and they weren’t this sneaky then. They’d been practicing. Whichever of them had been using Cloak of Night, they were damn good to keep two groups from him. Or each group had someone who could, and even then, skilled.
Then again, the last thing he’d expected coming here was a sneak attack from a group of vampires. He’d let his guard down.
“Turner! Mandleson!” Jessy snapped her head to glare at each group, eyes wide with animal rage. “I’m going to—”
Eric put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes also on the two groups. It was enough to calm her down, at least so she didn’t suicide by running at either group. Surrounded by vampires armed with heavy weapons that could rip through the two of them meant they were fucked. Yeah, this was a trap, and they’d walked into it. But he knew how to roll with a punch. She didn’t. If she didn’t calm down, she was gonna get them both killed in some last stand.
Jessy boiled with rage. She knew they were stuck, and she needed an outlet. The outlet became the door someone had told them to walk through, and she kicked it hard enough to break the door frame. She marched in, looking for a fight, but with at least enough control to keep her hands down.
“Jessy, can’t you control yourself for one fucking second?” a voice said.
Sighing, Eric followed her in.
“Garry!” Jessy glared at the man, glared hard, but kept the pistol aimed down, thank god. “Garry you fucking sack of shit, what the fuck is this about? Where’s Avery?”
“Avery’s busy.” The elder stepped off the couch and grinned at them. “Come in and sit down. You’re not going anywhere for a while.”
“What happens after a while?” Eric asked. He stepped into the apartment, and the six vampires in the hallway followed him in. If they’d lowered their weapons, he’d have considered transforming, getting into melee, and beating them to a pulp. Probably a dumb idea. Vampires were fast as hell, and would pick the weapons back up and riddle him with metal before he finished transforming.
Garry shrugged. “You go home. No harm, no foul.”
Jessy threw up her arms, earning a few guns pointed at her. “What the fuck? The fuck do you think you’re doing, holding us hostage for a night?”
“Just making sure some other things go smoothly.”
“Other things?” She stomped up to him, and glared daggers at the man. At least she didn’t punch him this time. “What the fuck are you up to?”
“Private.”
“You don’t get to say private! You’re holding us hostage! You fucking—”
Garry punched her. Eric tensed, but six guns only ten feet away all pointed at him, and he froze in place, every muscle tight and ready to pounce. It wasn’t a soft punch, or a hard punch. It was a vampire punch, and Jessy went down with a crack. She tried to get back up, but she only managed to get to her hands and knees before she stopped. A punch like that would have put a human in the hospital from brain damage, let alone the bone damage. Her jaw was broken.
“You fucker,” Eric said, glaring at the man and making sure his eyes read ‘you’re dead’ in big, bold letters.
“I owed her that.”
“Bullshit. You—”
“Eric, shut up.” Garry sighed, shrugged, and walked up to him. Not a shred of fear on this guy. Even the vampires with guns in their hands looked at Eric like he’d rip them in half if he got his hands on them, cause it was true. But the elder vampire looked at him like he was a pup he could smash around without effort.
Eric growled, but shut up.
“Good dog,” the fucker said. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d played nice and worked with Avery, Eric. You’d probably be helping her.”
“Say what?”
Shrugging, Garry walked over to the window of the living room, opposite of them, and leaned his ass against the sill. “I suppose it doesn’t matter if I tell you a little. Neither of you are leaving this room until it’s over anyway.”
For a moment, it sounded like Garry was some sort of cliché villain, explaining his master plan. But no, he was just looking for a way to fill the time while he waited for whoever to do whatever. And judging from what he’d said, that whoever was probably Avery.
“Avery,” Garry continued, “is making her move, tonight.” He stepped over to them, reached down, picked up Jessy by the back of her shirt collar, and threw her onto the couch, hard enough it rocked back and forth a couple times.
Jessy almost screamed in agony, but once she settled, she held her jaw in her hands, groaning. Eric sat down beside her, and winced as he examined the wound. She batted him away.
“Ee’ll heal.”
“Yeah, it’ll heal,” Garry said, going back to the window, “so just sit back and wait. No one’s going to hurt you — more — unless you make them. And believe me, I’d fucking love to take this bitch and rip her jaw clean off.” His words earned some harsh glares from Jessy, but she couldn’t start yelling a storm with a broken jaw. “Avery’s got to do her thing, and she wanted to make sure no one got in the way.
“And that thing is?”
The elder bastard smirked, and shrugged. “I’ve told you plenty already. Who the fuck do you think I am? Jacob? Taunting you with half info?” He laughed, a quiet chuckle that reeked of a man who both loved and hated what he was doing. The sort of sound a barfly made when he was going through the motions at his local waterhole, lots of drunk-fueled laughs, even though everyone there knew, including the man himself, that he hated every moment of his life.
Eric knew those sorts of people, met plenty of them, and Garry sounded just like them.
His laughter died away, and eventually, the man sat against the windowsill and looked out into the night. “So just sit tight, and everyone will be happier by tomorrow night.”
The wolf in Eric wanted to transform and rip the man apart. The wolf also realized Garry was dangerous, and could kick Eric’s ass in a straight fight, let alone with a bunch of vamps helping him, guns in hand. All Eric could do was agree, and—
Jessy’s phone buzzed, and she reached for it. She didn’t get far, maybe six inches, before someone had a shotgun two feet away from her head.
“Let it ring,” Garry said, smile fading, voice darkening. “But if I’m guessing right, shit has officially hit the fan.”
~~Damien~~
“Relax the wrists, fool,” Maria said.
Damien smiled, but kept his eyes focused on the sheet music. Mozart’s Sonata Number Sixteen, in C major. A whimsical piece, with lots of broken chords for the left hand, and a flighty melody for the right. Simple enough he could play it without having to look down at his hands constantly, good practice for developing finger awareness.
They continued for a time. Maria sat beside him on the piano bench, and watched with analyzing eyes. Her face was terrifying, as was her body, her aura, and the white mist that leaked from her, but after months of working with her, and learning with her, it all faded to background noise. It didn’t bother him. And her harsh attitude didn’t bother him as much anymore either. She could be cruel, but after a time, it became apparent she wasn’t cruel to indulge some sadistic urge or resentful, deep-seeded hatred.
She was cruel because she demanded the best from those she was willing to work with. If she was being cruel, harsh, critical, it was because she felt the person worthy of her time, and her help.
It probably wasn’t the best approach for someone like Natasha. She was a sensitive sort, and would do better with someone who could nurture her. Not Daniel, either. He was just as cold as Maria, but at least without the cruel, harsh approach. Antoinette, on the other hand, was probably a perfect fit for Natasha, someone who could use a soft word and razor sharp wit to help develop the tiny Mekhet’s skill.
Damien had no problem dealing with Maria’s approach. Harsh, critical words were pretty much the norm in the Lancea et Sanctum, both Lucas’s, and from what he knew about other cities that practiced, other bishops. That was life in the church, and it only grew harsher for Sanctified. It was never to be taken personally. Well, almost never.
He continued playing for a while until their lesson was done. An hour of playing increasingly complex music, until eventually he couldn’t keep up. And only after he failed to play a piece a few dozen times did she consider the lesson done.
“Is it this hard for kine?” he said between clenched teeth. “Feels like I’m trying to ... to carve into a piece of metal, with a knife.”
“Neuroplasticity. The ability for your mind to adapt to new organization. Learning to play an instrument is easy for kine children, but difficult for kine elders, as the mind grows resistant to adaptation.”
“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks?”
“Precisely. But for Kindred, you have a different barrier. Unfortunately, our minds will forever lack plasticity. But at the same time, our will creates a larger effect, once you learn how to direct it. As you are doubtless aware, it is not only our wounds that heal while we sleep, but changes to our body revert as well. Cut hair regrows. Piercings are pushed free of skin, and holes mend. Tattoos vanish.”
“But, if I make a mental effort before I sleep, those things stick around.”
She nodded. “Yes, and what we are doing here is not so different. Playing an instrument is a more complex task, filled with thousands upon thousands of micro changes to your muscle memory and conscious awareness, but still, not dissimilar.”
Forever Kindred had to manage their human half with their Beast. It made things difficult, but if one could master it, like Maria, they could do some truly marvelous things. Becoming a virtuoso with the piano and organ, and using the power of being Kindred to do it, was beyond impressive, more impressive than a kine using biology to master something. Then again, she had centuries to work with, kine didn’t.
But he had centuries to work with too, potentially. That’d been a scary idea in the past. Now, he was starting to look forward to it.
“How goes your relationship with the Begotten?” she said, getting up and heading over to her desk. The idle chit chat had never been a thing before, but lately over the past few weeks, it’d become normal.
He smiled. “She’s smarter than I thought.”
“Ah, can’t have that. Smart women are troublemakers.”
What? He blinked at her, and she didn’t even smile as she sat down and started typing. Did she just make a joke?
“Sometimes I wonder about her, though. She’s so joyful, but considering who and what she is, I can’t help but think she’s running from something.”
“No doubt. She is a monster of nightmares. And while I do not think she is the brightest creature, I expect she’s more aware of her surroundings, and the people within, than it appears.”
“Agreed. But, how do I approach that?”
Maria raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if she’s smarter than it seems, then—”
“Then what? Do you want to drag her into philosophical conversations? Or politics? Perhaps you wish to talk with her about the nature of Longinus, of God, Jesus Christ, and the journey the damned must take if we wish to ever see the light of the Lord? Or, perhaps you wish to speak with her of the works of Chopin and Beethoven?”
“I...” He turned around on the piano bench to face her, but ended up looking down as he frowned in thought. “I guess not. We don’t talk about those things now, and I know she’d be bored of those topics the moment I got the first word out.”
That earned a smile from the Nosferatu. “She is a classic extrovert, Damien. Her mind is connected to her body in a way you and I will never understand. She thinks thoughts with her mouth, and feels emotions with her limbs. Do not try and change her. It won’t work.”
That, was true. “It amazes me we get along.”
“Normally I would argue you need much in common with a partner for romance to last, and that the old adage ‘opposites attract’ is juvenile idiocy made manifest. But, sometimes, two people of vastly different minds can complete the other. I am sure Fiona has helped eased the weight on your heart, has she not?”
He winced. Fiona may have been smarter than he figured, but Maria was too, and he’d already figured Maria was a genius. It was disturbing how she could understand things about him, when he’d never told them to her, things that were personal and hard to put to words. Not hard for her.
“She ... has. A lot.”
“And I am sure you’re helping her in a way she does not understand, but needs. Perhaps, someday, the two of you will be able to articulate why you enjoy each other’s company so well; you’ll probably verbalize it better than her, and sooner. But nevertheless, you are likely helping her in some fashion you do not yet understand.”
“Should I ask her about it?”
“Perhaps. Such a powerful question could break a flimsy relationship.”
He winced again. Flimsy? Was it flimsy? He didn’t think so. It was just fun sex at first, Fiona taking advantage of his awkwardness and seducing him. And he’d been happy to be seduced, tied up in a spider web and fucked by a terrifying, gorgeous spider monster.
Every time he took a drink of her, and lost himself in the bizarre, intoxicating taste and power of her blood, he loved it. She loved it. They fucked almost every night, and sometimes went back to the jungle so Vrall could participate. Vrall liked to tie him up in her webbing, but when it was Fiona, she liked being tied up instead. So many kinks explored, like a bucket list she was having a blast burning through.
And when they were done, there was cuddling, and chatting. The chatting was usually one-sided, her talking about the things she liked, and him reacting to her statements. He liked doing that. Occasionally he’d chime in with his own thoughts, but he preferred listening to her, and she liked sharing her thoughts with him. It was almost as if she needed to say her thoughts to think them at all, and needed him to listen, so she could listen to herself.
Damien frowned, and then smiled. Attempts to think of Fiona filled him with joy, and moments later, desire. Happened every time. It was kind of frustrating, honestly, to forever be distracted. But the thought of her sitting on his lap, legs wrapped around him, hands tied behind her, breasts squashed to his chest, and her whole body wriggling to escape him as he slapped her ass, and sank his fangs into her neck, was glorious. It was the wriggling and squirming, like she was prey trying to escape a predator, that really seemed to strike a chord in him. And her, evidently. Trapped, helpless, struggling fruitlessly to get away as he devoured her, with his cock buried in her, drenched in her juices. They both loved it.
He sat up straight and shook out his head. Good Lord, give him strength, that woman was going to be the death of him.
Maria laughed. She’d been watching him, and considering how damn smart she was, could probably read his mind.
“It’s a rare thing to enjoy someone’s time so, my student. Enjoy it while you can. You—”
Both of them stood up as a noise echoed through the tunnel and into the dome. Matthias groaned, grabbed a broom, and headed toward the noise, but Maria held up a hand, and clicked on a few things with her computer mouse with the other.
More noises, and this time he recognized the sound of bending and breaking metal bars.
“The Uratha have come,” she said.
Damien stared at her. “What?”
Sighing, she stepped around the desk, and wiped off her dress of non-existent dust. “They’re on the cameras. Matthias, stay out of the way, no matter what happens. Damien, you...” She frowned at the dark tunnel ahead of them, and let out a quiet snarl. Not for him, but for the approaching werewolves. “You may do what you wish.”
“What I wish?” He stared at her before peering into the tunnel. Another crunch, this time louder, and accompanied by some groans and growls. The gates were being opened, forcibly.
“Yes, what you wish. I will not force you to partake in this battle.”
“Battle?” Gulping hard on a dry throat, he hopped over to his desk and scooped up his pistol and silver sword. It didn’t have the length or heft of his proper sword, but the steel sword wouldn’t be as effective as the silver-coated one. Supposedly. The silver bullets would work well; he knew that from testing them on Carter.
Except, there didn’t need to be a battle.
“Battle. They’re here to stop me from communing with spirits. From threatening the Gauntlet.”
“But, I haven’t see you—”
“Yes, I have not done these things. But they think I have.”
“Then just explain!”
She snapped her head to glare at him, and he recoiled. Those eyes were like fire against an icy coldness, against an arctic oblivion. He took a small step back, and tightened his grip on his sword.
“I do many things in my private life, Damien, things I would not have these wolves see. My second life is my own, and I will defend that privacy.”
Oh good Lord, save him from the pride of elders. He slowly nodded as the reality sank in, that Maria was going to stand her ground, and not let werewolves investigate her private life, because she was prideful. Quite the sin. But then, Kindred were not forbidden from sinning. It was just, her pride was going to get her killed.
He stayed where he was, and waited, standing a few feet back and to the side of her. Leave? The only way out was through that tunnel. The werewolves would let him leave probably, but, he didn’t want to. Madam Turio had extended him a helping hand when no one else had. He wasn’t going to let her die over a misunderstanding.
He set his gun aside for a second, quickly activated the emergency app on his phone along with a short text, and picked his pistol back up. No signal down here, not for a cell tower or anything, but Maria had wifi. With any luck, Jessy and Jack would get his message, and come running. And if they didn’t, well, they’d find the mess later, cause he wasn’t leaving.
Maria met his eyes, and slowly, her gaze softened. And perhaps, for just a sliver of a second, she smiled, before she looked back to the tunnel, and the sound of yet more crunching metal bars.
It didn’t take long for the werewolves to enter the dome. They didn’t come far, stopping at where the tunnel opened into the dome, and every single one of them looked ready for war. Not for arms; werewolves didn’t bother with weapons. It was in their eyes. Each one of them was ready for a fight, or something more animal than that. They were ready for a hunt.
Maria was in her white, old fashioned dress, as usual. Damien wore his Invictus suit. The werewolves, on the other hand, were dressed like a bunch of Carthians, jeans and t-shirts everywhere. It was a little insulting, honestly, considering who Maria was, and that they were currently underneath the Grand Cathedral of Dolareido.
“Explain yourselves,” Maria said, the cold bite of her words enough to silence the murmurs of the werewolves.
“Us?” Avery said. “You know why we’re here, vamp. You have some explaining to do.”
Maria ground her teeth until Damien could hear it. Eesh.
“I will explain nothing. My personal life is none of your concern.”
“Personal life? It’s not personal when it starts affecting others.” Avery stepped forward, not a trace of fear on her. Either that was dumb, or she genuinely was capable of fighting Maria. Unlikely. Elder vampires were a different breed of dangerous from anything Damien figured a werewolf was capable of. But then, werewolves had a habit of hunting as a pack, while vampires had a habit of going solo.
Not quite solo, not with him here.
“I have done nothing,” Maria said.
“Bullshit. You’ve been talking with spirits, Maria, and whatever you’re doing, it’s fucking with the Gauntlet.” She came closer, until the two short women were only inches from each other. “Fuck, we’ve got azlu in the city for a reason. They’re trying to repair damage someone’s creating. That someone”—she pointed at Maria—”is you.”
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