My Little VentrueChapter 159 free porn video

~~Jack~~

“Not long after I sired Viktor, I left him, and disappeared.” Elaine held his eyes, for a while, but eventually she looked down. “I was not proud of abandoning him. I do not think he ever forgave me, even after my return.”

The two of them were still on the stairs in his mansion. The stairs were the best place for a conversation, and their magic powers could hopefully disarm an elder vampire.

“I wondered about how you could have been his sire, without anyone knowing.”

“It was not an easy feat. I met Antoinette after I returned, and avoided Viktor. When the man realized I had returned, he wanted nothing to do with me, and I had to make concessions to him so he would keep our connection a secret.”

“But you never told him about the curse.”

“No.” She flinched.

“He never found out about what you did? To get rid of your curse? He never found out you were ever cursed, or that he still was?”

“No.”

Jesus christ, that was cold.

“Julias told me diablerie marks you. Makes you ... easy to notice. Like, you become tainted.”

Those words hurt her a lot more than he thought they would. She winced. Elder vampires didn’t wince, unless it was acting, or someone just sucker punched them hard in the emotions. Making an elder wince was tantamount to cracking them over the head with a steel beam. It felt bad, doing that, but he needed to know.

“It does. I avoided contact with everyone for years, hiding in caves, terrified a Kindred would find me. It was quite some time before the darkness left my mind and Beast, and before the ... the addiction left as well.”

His turn to wince. Being terrified made sense, considering how diablerist were pretty much a kill-on-sight situation in cities with a Kindred presence. And then there was the whole addiction thing. A diablerist around other Kindred was a meth addict surrounded by ... meth.

“You remember?”

“No. Only small details, certain memories that burned themselves into my mind, while most are lost.”

“But you remember killing another vampire. You remember breaking free of the curse.”

“I do.”

“You told me you didn’t remember. You told me—”

“I lied.” She smiled weakly. “You can understand why.”

“If Antoinette knew—”

“Antoinette is not the concern. The Ordo, is. I violated the third law. The Ordo would not suffer a diablerist to live.” She laughed and shook her head. “Not one so stupid as to admit to it, at least.”

“You ... think there are diablerists in—”

“There are diablerists, vile and putrid beings, who continue to commit diablerie regularly, who are in positions of power, young Ventrue. While a curious Mekhet may discover them, they...” She shook her head. “Do not worry. None of the Primogen here in Dolareido are tainted. And neither am I any longer.”

“Does anyone else know? Antoinette?”

“No.”

“Jesus fuck. You told me, but not her?”

She smiled at him, gaze steady, eyes carrying a billion hidden meanings he could barely scratch the surface of. “You are my great grandchilde.”

“But you two have been friends for centuries. Plural.”

“She does not know what it is like to have something vile inside, poisoning her every action. I do.”

“Your curse was still bound.”

“And yet I can still remember its claws, deep in my soul.”

Jack shuddered. “It ... it’s better now for me, in a way. Now that the curse is free, at least it’s distinct from me. Before, it felt like it was me, slowly becoming some sort of violent psychopath. Christ, I was fucking convinced I was turning into Viktor.”

“You were, in a way. How Julias managed to stay above the curse’s influence, I do not know.”

“Julias was ... he was one of a kind. He—”

Nodding, Elaine stood up. Apparently she didn’t want the conversation to go down that road.

“I have shared with you a dangerous secret, my childe. If you somehow convinced my peers, or even others here in Dolareido, about what I have done, it could end quite poorly for me.”

“That’s part of the reason you told me, right? That I can’t exactly prove it. Whatever you were before, you seem pretty normal now. The Begotten say you look normal.”

“Indeed. But there are ways.” She shook her head as she slowly paced. She was uncomfortable. Hell, Jack would have been too, dropping a truth bomb like that. “I have not told you the worst of it.”

“Oh christ.”

Chuckling, she shook her head again. “And I will not. For now.”

“You’re ... gonna dangle a carrot in front of me, information, about something even worse you’ve done?”

“Quite perceptive of you, childe of mine.”

“And the thing you want me to do? The reason for the carrot?”

“You, are going to join me in a ritual.”

Frowning, he looked between his two pets.

~Do not trust her, master, ~ Scully whispered into his mind.

~Do not trust her, master.~

“What ritual?”

“In my hunt to find a way to remove the curse, I discovered a ritual that will ... let me take a peek within.”

“Within ... me?”

“Precisely. I wish to take a look inside, Jack. I want a peek at the curse.” She stopped pacing, and smiled down at him as she hooked her hands behind her back. He knew that look. That was a happy business look, like someone excited to make a contract, a binding one. The look of a Ventrue delighted with the way negotiations were going.

“You can’t expect me to agree to that.”

Her smile didn’t waver. “I do.”

“Why?”

“Because it is connected to how I removed the curse.”

“You committed diablerie to get rid of the curse.”

She flinched, just barely. “Yes, I did.”

“You might do it to me, to get the curse back, now that it’s unbound, out and swinging.”

Her smile slowly faded, and she came closer to him. “You trust me that little?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You told me, sweet childe of mine, what the curse is like. I have seen its disturbing rage and sick fetishes with my own eyes, as well. I have...” With a heavy sigh, she gestured back toward the door. “Do you know what I spend much of my time researching, for the Ordo? The dark secrets I have written and stashed away into the depths of records hidden from all eyes? Terrible mysteries I have not shared even with my good friend, your lover?”

“I ... The Strix. You’ve been researching the Strix.”

“Naturally, and I am sure my old friend suspects. I am known as an Architect of Terror, in the Ordo Dracul.”

“Right, I remember hearing that title, the night I met you. I never understood what it meant. You said once it meant researching the Beast?”

“Indeed. We dragons keep our secrets, young Ventrue. But I feel comfortable enough to tell you that I research the Beast, this creature that exists inside all vampires, and that I delve into uncovering its mysteries. Why is there a creature inside us? Why does it have its own desires, its own instincts? How is it awoken in us, when we rise from our first death? My research into striges is proxy to that research.”

“I guess that makes sense. You had to learn about them, if you were going to remove their curse.”

She sat down beside him again, close enough her shoulder touched his. “That necklace you wear is one of the results of my research, something I found in my efforts.”

Sighing, Jack reached under his suit shirt and pulled out the necklace. “I ... do owe you a lot for this.” Owe didn’t even do it justice. She taught him how to pull his thoughts away from his Beast, separate him from it, and gave him a necklace to force it to shut up. If it hadn’t been for Elaine showing up, the curse would still have been running rampant in his mind, fighting him for control every night.

He owed her his life. And Elaine did seem to take his warning to heart, about how awful the curse was, especially now that she’d seen it for herself after his fight with Avery. It’d be pretty damn strange for her to suddenly betray him now, unless her goal was to lull them all into a false sense of security.

Look at you now, Jack. Thinking like a true Kindred. Fucking lovely.

“Jack,” she said, “it has been centuries since I committed that vile act. I stowed myself away, knowing what it would do to me. Only after the horrible taint fled my being, and the voices stopped, did I—”

“Voices?”

Nodding, she looked down again, and leaned into him a little. Not a sexy lean. He expected sexy leans, sexy touches, sexy anything, flirtations she knew would go nowhere but enjoyed teasing him with anyway. This was a weary lean. A tired, even exhausted lean.

“I can barely remember them. And I did not record anything of my time hiding from the Kindred world. Any record could be used against me. But there had been voices, of the vampire I killed. They lingered in my mind, and they were ... unhappy with me.”

“Just like—”

“I do not know if the voices are similar to the curse’s voice. Perhaps they are related. You said the curse was created by the Strix, with an act of diablerie as the sacrifice, confirming my suspicions.”

“Yeah.”

“Then I can only assume there is a connection. This curse, this taint, it is connected to the Strix, and to the devouring of souls.”

Devouring of souls. Amaranth. Diablerie. Yeah, no wonder diablerists were a ‘kill on sight’ situation.

“So, I would look like a diablerist, if someone with Auspex looked at me? Cause I’m pretty sure I’ve been thoroughly examined by peeking Mekhets.”

“Indeed. The curse is ... unique. Striges have ways to infect, to take hosts, and the marks they place upon the soul are similar to those left on a diablerist before the taint dissipates. And how this is connected to our Beasts is of great interests to me. The fact you are not tainted is another unique element I wish to learn of.”

“Christ. This is ... all pretty fucking terrifying.”

“I know. I have waited to bring this idea to light because I was not sure if I could trust you.”

“Trust me? You’re the one who committed dia—”

She put a hand over his mouth, long enough to shut him up before lowering it. For a moment, she looked angry in a way he had never seen, but it faded quickly.

“I have danced around this issue long enough. I had to tell someone, and it makes sense for it to be you. I have a black mark upon my soul, for all eternity I imagine, but the infection, the taint, has faded to nothing. I ensured it did, before I returned to the world, and met your lover, her sheriff, and returned to my ... abhorring childe Viktor. Years of fighting against an addiction so powerful you cannot imagine, while hiding in caves.” She nudged her shoulder into him again. “Is it truly strange that I would hide such a past?”

Things clicked into place. She wasn’t being sneaky — or at least not entirely — because she was trying to maneuver Jack into a position she could use to kidnap him, or somehow remove his curse. She was being sneaky because if Antoinette or Daniel, or hell maybe Jacob, found out what she did, they might do something about it. Maybe even kill her. They’d certainly be ashamed of her. And on top of that, she looked ashamed, too.

“I still can’t believe you told me.”

“The others do not understand. Could you truly live with this curse for an eternity, Jack? Would you not do all you could to remove it?”

He would. He damn well would. No matter what Jack said or did, the Ripper was a psychopath killer, always riding some weird edge of rage and sick fetishism for gore and death. You didn’t get much more fucked up then that.

“But ... but diablerie...”

“It is beyond vile, childe of mine, and yet you will be more disgusted with me when you learn who I devoured.”

“Oh god.”

“But that is a secret I will keep for now, to share later, after you have indulged me. Will you allow me to perform this experiment upon you, without your lover or anyone else knowing? I cannot risk them tracing the ritual to its roots. It is ... connected, to my past.”

“You—”

“I swear I will not kill you, Jack, in any capacity.” She sighed, still leaning against him, like she had an anchor around her neck, pulling her down. He knew the feeling. “But we flirt with such dangers. It must be done in secret.”

He wanted to trust her. The look in her eyes was genuine, as far as he could tell. If she’d tried to look overtly pained or guilty, he wouldn’t have believed it. Elders didn’t get to be centuries old by regretting their decisions until they self destructed. Whatever regret or self-loathing they had, they repressed it and grew into monoliths of power and will. He could see it in her eyes, the will to push past the shitty things she’d done, and it didn’t get worse than being a diablerist.

“You think this will help us get rid of the curse?”

“I do. While it will not remove the curse, it will garner us knowledge. Intimate knowledge.” She said ‘intimate’ with a glint in her eye. Not the sexy kind of glint. The mad scientist kinda glint.

Was he stupid enough to trust her? She was going to put him in the center of some kinda ritual, just him and her, no Antoinette, no sheriff, no back up. But after everything that’d happened, and all the help she’d given him...

“Fuck me, I’ll do it.”

“I will be hosting a ball soon,” Antoinette said. “Tempers between the Carthians and Invictus have settled well enough.”

“You think?”

“Oui. Do you disagree?”

He shrugged. “Eh, I’m fifty fifty on it.”

“That is as good as it ever gets between covenants.” Chuckling, Antoinette reached up and pat him on the head.

They were in one of the bathrooms in her tower, lying back in a huge tub, Jack half sitting up half lying while Antoinette leaned back against his chest, between his legs. Bath time. Completely unnecessary for vampires, but still damn relaxing. And it was one of the places Jack and Antoinette had their best conversations.

It might have had something to do with the fact it was a comfy way for Jack to play with Antoinette’s breasts. At this point it wasn’t even sexual, he just really liked the feel of heavy, soft, supple flesh filling his palms. Case in point, his hands were cupping her breasts at this very moment, and gently bouncing them in his palms so the water’s surface slipped above and below the tops of them over and over.

He had a problem. They’d tried those squishy stress balls, but it just wasn’t the same. Antoinette had even gotten him a giant stress ball that looked like a boob, nipple included, with a similar texture and malleability and everything. Still wasn’t the same.

If the rest of the city knew how much he was obsessed with tits, it’d have probably damaged the whole image he was cultivating for himself. The man in the black suit, the guy with two undead crows, the Ventrue with a mansion, imposing but intelligent, deadly but reasonable, tiny and terrifying, stuff like that. It was all true he supposed, but only half the time. The other half of the time, he just wanted to sit in a tub with his lover and play with her boobs.

“So everyone’s coming?”

“Ben oui. Avery and her pack are invited, as is Eric. The Invictus and Carthians. Sándor and his monsters. And the Circle.”

Jack frowned. “Ugh, really?”

“Of course. Do not be silly, my love. You cannot seriously imagine I would not invite them.”

“I was hoping.”

“Despite the fact the city is mine, and I rule it, Jacob is as responsible for this city’s original growth as I. He will always be invited.”

“Damn.”

“And besides, he is dating your mother,” she said, making him groan. All that did was make her laugh. “Come now, my love. Their relationship has lasted for some time. Surely you do not still hold it against him.”

“We don’t trust him.”

“We do not trust Jacob with grand affairs that affect the city. But I trust him with your mother’s heart.” She hesitated for a moment, before chuckling again. “And body.”

“Please don’t.”

“You do not want your mother to enjoy sex? She told me you explicitly told her to ‘get laid’.”

“That was before Jacob.”

“If it is any consolation, I believe she is enjoying Othello’s touch nearly as much as Jacob’s.”

Jack lifted Antoinette’s breasts high, let them go so they hit the water with a splash, and set his hands on the sides of the tub, grunting. It took a lot to break his desire to fondle. Antoinette drove over that line with a truck, and she laughed.

“Yeah,” he said, “I know, but I’m trying to not think about her that way. She’s my mom.”

“Well, I am afraid you will be forced to think of her that way. I will be encouraging a friendly environment at this ball, with thralls and ghouls to be shared, and skin to be laid bare.”

He groaned and squirmed underneath her, making her laugh again. Maybe in a few hundred years, he’d have an easier time thinking of his mom as a sexual person, but not yet. He told her to get laid, but he hadn’t expected his mom’s sex life to suddenly be a part of his life. Healthy separation! He didn’t want to be in one of those creepy families where everyone was so comfortable with each other, they didn’t mind seeing each other naked.

Unfortunately, that was exactly the sort of environment Antoinette wanted. Well, she didn’t have living family from her first life anymore. He did!

“Can we ... at least avoid having mom and I see each other naked, and especially avoid us seeing each other, uh, sexually occupied?”

“I doubt your mother will be having sex at the ball. Though I would not be surprised if Jacob pushes her into some delightfully erotic situations.”

“Oh god.”

“But she is just as squeamish about the idea of seeing you naked and having sex, as vice versa.”

“You haven’t shown her any of those films?”

“Non, of course not. She is your mother.”

“Thank you. Know if anyone else has?”

“I do not believe they have, though Jessy and Fiona seem intent on showing everyone.”

He was getting more comfortable with the idea of half the city having seen him naked in the movies. He looked good in them, and the ladies looked amazing in them. But if his mom ever saw them, that’d be a whole new level of awkward he doubted he could handle.

“Different topic. Beatrice. She ... she uh ... she make any progress?” He was terrified to ask Beatrice about it. Better to think she’d never succeed at whatever she was trying to do. Or maybe succeed beautifully. No. No, it was too tempting to get his hopes up, too good to be true.

“I know little,” she said, half lying. For his benefit, he knew. “Perhaps Sándor knows more?”

“Sándor? Why him?”

“I know the young Nosferatu has been visiting a lounge the man frequents. I have come to understand Sándor is a musician.”

“Wait, really?”

“Indeed. I have not had the fortune to visit myself, but my spies say he is quite the marvel.” She raised a leg into the air, long, milky white, and ran a finger down it before settling it back into the hot water again. “Musicians will forever be attractive, my love. And mastering an instrument expands the mind in powerful ways. Learn to play one.”

“I will I will.” Procrastination was easy when he was alive. It was twice as easy now, with eternity for a lifespan. “But, uh, Beatrice is visiting him?”

“She is visiting the lounge. I assume she is speaking to him, but I have not informed my spies to confirm. Such activities are quite personal, non?”

“Yeah, yeah they are. But I could ask her.” He knew Sándor had been asking about her, and Julias, months ago. But he also knew the man hadn’t acted on it. With all the rumors about dark rituals and resurrection going around, Jack found it hard to talk to her sometimes. They still did, but there was a wall between them they couldn’t quite tear down.

“Perhaps. I would approach the subject ... not delicately, but perhaps indirectly. Beatrice likely has Jennifer pushing her toward the man, or any man, in a desperate attempt to have the girl penetrated.”

Jack coughed on a laugh. “I thought—”

“I doubt Beatrice would ever let Othello touch her, or Jacob. And Aaron would not be interested in their sexual affairs. Non, I believe Beatrice has enjoyed the hands of Jennifer many times, and perhaps your mother as well.” Oh god. “But not another man’s, except maybe a fleeting moment with a kine she and her friend have hunted. Knowing Jennifer, she would delight in nothing more than having Beatrice penetrated by a man, while Jennifer pleasures her.”

“Elaine and Jennifer. I’d swear they were Daeva.”

It was Antoinette’s turn to laugh again. “Agreed.”

Jack slipped his hands back under Antoinette’s breasts, and resumed the most therapeutic form of stress relief known to man: playing with a woman’s boobs.

Tell her about Elaine? No, definitely don’t. As much as Elaine and Antoinette were good friends, she was his great grandsire, and she’d trusted him with the biggest secret she probably had.

He was taking a hell of a risk trusting her, but Elaine had pulled through multiple times, especially with the necklace. If he told Antoinette what she’d done, it’d probably lead to a confrontation, and then Elaine not helping Jack. Christ, just thinking the thoughts put holes into the idea. He couldn’t trust Elaine, not completely.

But he saw the look in her eyes, when he’d finally gotten through to her about how horrible the curse was. There’d been something there, something real, and after last night, he did trust her. More, at least. Hopefully his habit of trusting people wouldn’t get him killed.

Besides, he had a few contingency measures.

~~Beatrice~~

She threw up her hands. “It’s hard with claws!”

“Trim the claws.” The stupid Mekhet shook his head at her like she was brain damaged.

“Dude this ain’t like most things. It’s part of the Nosferatu shtick. If I trim them they just come back.” She eyed him, and pointed a claw at her right cheek. No cheek there, just giant crocodile teeth. “See these?”

Damien leaned away from her slightly. “I do.”

“One of the first things I did when I realized I was a vampire was try and rip out the extra teeth. They grow back.”

“Everything a vampire has grows back.”

“Not like this. The deformities can’t be suppressed or plucked. They just come back, quick as the body can remake them. Being a Nos fucking sucks.”

Sighing, Damien took her right hand, and gently set it back down on the piano keys. “You’re playing the piano, not typing on a keyboard. Or tenderizing a steak, for that matter. Stop hitting the keys so hard, and use more of the underside of the tip of the finger. Relax your wrists.”

Ugh, why did she agree to this? Two weeks of this shit and she still struggled to play Mary Had a Little Lamb.

“I’m fucking trying, but it feels nicer to just hit the keys with my fingertips. Must smash.”

“Yes but you’ll ... I suppose you’ll never strain a muscle, but you will make it harder on yourself to get the patterns and flow between them. You’re playing an instrument. It’s a dance for your fingers.”

“I don’t dance. I headbang.” Beatrice leaned back, let her head fall back over her shoulders behind her, and groaned. “I suck at this.”

“Yes, you do.”

Arg, this man. She sat up straight and glared at him, and Damien met her gaze with the tiniest smile. Somewhere along the line, he’d developed a sense of humor. Triss wasn’t sure she liked it, but at least he had one.

They were in his apartment. Apparently the dude had gotten a piano, which seemed kinda weird to Triss considering he had one of those keyboard pianos on the shelf. Maybe he just preferred a real piano; Maria probably did.

He had a really nice apartment. Fucking Invictus money. Just like Jack’s old apartment, it was all streamlined and modern and fancy, lots of black and silver, and she fully expected a serial killer had lived in it at least once. They were in his living room, the piano near the giant window, drapes closed, with some couches behind them pointed at the nice TV.

On the couch was a little redhead, flipping through stuff on her smartphone and occasionally looking up to giggle at Triss. She wore jeans and a t-shirt, like Triss, and neither of them really fit the apartment’s look. Damien did. Dude was dressed in a casual dark suit, something Maria probably insisted on.

Well, whatever. The man seemed to be doing pretty well for himself, considering only four years ago he’d been a sewer rat hiding from everyone.

“You’re a shitty teacher.”

“Probably. You could ask someone else for help.”

“I can’t ask a kine to fucking help, jackass.” She pointed at her teeth again, and her snake eyes, and her claws. “And I don’t want to go around asking people who know me. I just wanna do this privately, you know?”

“Aye, we know.” Fiona beamed at her, big smile on, before looking back at her phone.

Damien looked back at Fiona before back to Triss, eyebrow raised. He didn’t know why Triss was here learning this shit, or he did a good job hiding the fact he knew. Considering Fiona was Fiona, he probably did know, and was just pretending he didn’t for Triss’s sake. Nice of him, if annoying.

“Listen here, red tits.” Triss threw a glare and pointed finger at Fiona. “I’m doing this for me, okay? Jacob says I should expand what I know about things, cause it’ll help me be a better witch. Learning an instrument is mind expanding, right?”

Fiona nodded, eyes still on the phone. “Aye, but I bet there’s something else yer looking to get expanded.” As if she’d made the wittiest joke ever, she burst into giggles, but kept her eyes on the phone anyway.

Damien smiled, too, but Triss shot him a glare and the smile vanished.

“Beatrice, learning to play an instrument as a vampire is difficult. You’re constantly fighting your Kindred biology.” He pointed at his skull. “I told you. Your brain is influenced by the vampire curse.”

“Yeah yeah, but”—she gestured at her tattoos and piercings—”I can use the Kindred part of me to adapt, right? I got this shit after my embrace.”

“I told you it’s possible, but it’s ... difficult, to narrow down the focus.”

“Sounds like the same problem I’d have if I was alive and trying to do this. Just exercising a different muscle.”

“More like, the same problem kine would have, plus a whole new problem on top of it.” Damien shrugged, and played a short tune.

Triss scooted close enough on the piano bench to hit the man with her shoulder. “You think I don’t have focus?”

“I—”

“You have any idea how much focus it takes to do witch stuff? The fucking ... ugh, never mind. My point is, I got focus. It’s just these damn claws!”

Fiona giggled again. “Why don’t ye ask Sándor for help? He knows how to play a lot of instruments.”

Triss eyed red. “Maybe I will. If—”

A phone rang. Damien sighed as he stood up and pulled a phone from his pocket. “Yes Natasha? I ... oh.” He looked to Triss and Fiona before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He hung up. “I have to go. Important business.”

Triss eyed him, too, but not the same eye she gave Fiona. No, Damien was serious, and he immediately walked to the closet and put on his trench coat without so much as looking Triss’s way again.

“Alright, guess I’m outta here.” She stood up and—

“Stay, with Fiona. Practice. She can help.”

Slowly, Beatrice sneered as she glared at Fiona, which Fiona returned with a big, bright grin. The wonder child had started learning to play along with Triss, and unlike Triss, was a natural.

“Sure you trust me alone in your place?”

“I don’t.” Damien nodded to Fiona. “Vrall could easily beat you in a fight.”

Fiona’s grin grew absolutely maniacal as she hopped off the couch and joined Triss on the bench. “Ye think ye can take me, lass?”

Triss rolled her eyes, especially when she saw the smile on Damien’s face as he closed the front door behind him. Ugh, they weren’t wrong. Beatrice was plenty strong for her age, but the Begotten were strange, and strong. Fiona, aka Spider-Woman, would probably win any fight the two of them got into, especially if she got the drop on Triss. Well, give it a couple hundred more years and the tables would turn, assuming Fiona was still alive.

“So!” Fiona pulled down the cover for the piano keys, set her elbow on it, chin in palm, and smiled at Triss. “Ye like Sándor?”

Oh god damn it.

“It hasn’t even been a year since Julias died, Fiona. Gimme a break.”

That earned a small flinch from the girl, but Fiona recovered quickly. She shook her head and gave Triss a gentle shove with her free hand.

“Aye, but ye know Julias would want ye to be happy.”

This girl. She was blunt like Jessy, but none of the aggressive was there. To Fiona, there was a silver lining to everything, and joy hidden everywhere. All you had to do was go looking for it. The fact the girl had lost her adopted grandmother only shy of four months ago, didn’t seem to put a dent into that personality at all.

“Fiona, you’re what, twenty? You don’t know. You haven’t experienced enough shit.”