Chapter 95

~~Jack~~

It’d been two weeks since the incident. Two weeks since the news broadcasted Jack’s fuck up with the crows. Two weeks since Julias’s death, his mother’s embrace, and the capture of Sándor. Two weeks of futile attempts to understand what had happened to him.

He’d stuck with journaling, organizing his thoughts and putting them to words, but it wasn’t working out very well. All he could manage to write were succinct paragraphs that were obviously bitter, cynical, and angry. Sometimes he wasn’t sure they were his thoughts; considering his borderline multiple personality disorder at the moment, it was reasonable that maybe they weren’t. But this was important. If he died, someone was going to be reading these, and knowledge of the curse could save someone’s life, or maybe fuel the evolution of a covenant, or ritual, or anything. If leaving behind a few words now and then could help others, or his future self, it was worth doing.

When he got back to his apartment later, he’d give it another shot. He couldn’t write down anything that specifically called out vampires or the like, unless he was willing to write it down on paper, in a real journal, so it could be locked away in a vault for safekeeping. Maybe that was the problem? Maybe he was going about this all wrong, using a computer and typing his thoughts, when he could be using a pen? There definitely was something more real about ink and paper.

Heh, maybe he could start using a quill?

It’d been almost a week since Beatrice had come to him, asking for his help. What that help implied, he didn’t know yet. He also had no idea how she’d find the hunters; assuming that was her plan, to find them and then ask for his help in killing them. It probably involved Crúac, and some nasty deeds he was happier not knowing the details of yet. Better that he didn’t know more, until he needed to.

He looked at Antoinette across the table, and sighed. The noise buried in the pulsing music of Bloodlust, but she noticed it anyway. When her eyes found his, she looked away.

It’d been two weeks since they had sex, as well. It wasn’t that he needed sex, at least not constantly, but it was a good indicator that something was wrong, considering Antoinette’s sex drive. They had sex almost every night, normally, and it’d been like that since they’d started dating. Before he came along, Antoinette had sex with Ashley and Julee, near every night he assumed. Before them, she had other ghouls. Long before, she had Tony. Before Tony, and probably with Tony, she had orgies with dozens of kine, and probably other vampires here or there. Her history was filled with sexual exploration and delight.

If she didn’t want to have sex, it was a flag something was wrong, and it was obvious what that was. Him. The curse.

But the curse didn’t seem to care about Antoinette or sex. It wasn’t going to do anything to sabotage his relationship, according to what it said. So far it’d been true to its words, or rather, true to its instinct. It wanted to destroy its enemies, control its territory, and feast upon the sheep, all in wanton excess. Love, romance, intimacy, the Beast didn’t care for any of that.

Convincing Antoinette of that wasn’t going to be so easy. She saw him at the hospital, saw him when he’d changed, and that was going to be a horrible memory for her, haunting her and every interaction they had from here on out. He’d have to fix that. It’s what he did, fix things. Supposedly. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Jessy isn’t here tonight,” his mom said. She was avoiding his eyes too, but for a different reason. The dress she was wearing was worthy of a Dolareido club scene: slutty as hell.

His mom was an attractive woman, no doubt about it, but she didn’t have any of Antoinette’s confidence or flair. Sitting there in a black dress — black was always a safe choice — with her hands on her legs, and shoulders slouching, she looked terribly attractive, but meek. Antoinette had made sure his mom’s brown hair was done, curly and wavy and bouncy, and that she was wearing more make up than she usually did. Black mascara and eyeliner, more than Jack had ever seen her wear, made her eyes pop as it contrasted the pale skin of a vampire. Green eyes, like his, almost glowed when the white light pulsed.

“No, she is not,” Antoinette said. “I am afraid you will have to hunt for prey yourself, this night.”

“Aww.” Pouting, his mom put her hands on the table, and forced herself to look out at the other booths.

Jack smiled as he watched her. He knew all the feelings she felt, the lack of confidence, the uncertainty, and the animal hunger that demanded she overcome those weaknesses. For all the problems the Beast caused, it was a powerful companion that helped Kindred get over the limitations of their kine lives. In a couple years, Jack had developed the mental fortitude of a veteran navy seal; or at least, he suspected. He didn’t want to put that to the test, but there was no denying he could put himself through hell and come out swinging. He’d done it twice now.

And, much as he was struggling with his own Beast, he was happy his mother’s was forcing her to act. It meant she couldn’t brood about Mary all the time. Like it or not, she had to get out and feed, and when a vampire was hungry, they grew bold.

“Mom, don’t hold back cause I’m here.” Jack shrugged as he leaned forward, and smiled at her. “You’re Daeva. Some things are going to come naturally to you, and you should run with them.”

“But ... but in Tw—”

“Less Twilight, more Dracula.”

“Which one?”

He laughed. “You know the one. Gary Oldman. Remember the scene with Drac and Lucy, having sex outside?” She gasped. “Or Harker and Dracula’s three wives?” More gasps. “It’s a part of who you are, now. I won’t judge, and no other vamp will either.”

“That movie didn’t end well for Dracula,” she said.

“True, and it’s a good warning to be careful. Don’t get involved with your prey, unless you’re willing to make a ghoul or thrall, and you won’t be doing that any time soon,” he said. Antoinette nodded, and gestured over her shoulder. Ashley and Julee weren’t there this time, but they often were, and Jack nodded toward his love before looking back at his mom. “All you should do, is find a mark, convince them to lower their guard, and drink. It went well with Jessy’s ghouls, didn’t it?”

“They um ... they...”

“My childe enjoyed their blood immensely,” the Prince said as she leaned forward, mirroring Jack’s sneaky posture. “Their blood and their touch.”

Jack almost winced. Much as he was trying to convince his mom to embrace her vampire nature, she was still his mom. No one likes imagining their mom in the middle of sex; or at least, most don’t.

“Jack, I swear I—”

“Mom, seriously, what about me not judging are you not getting?” Classic Mom. His words just bounced off her, and convincing her of anything would be borderline impossible. It’d always been that way. She liked to say she was too old to learn new tricks, but mid-forties wasn’t that old. It wasn’t old at all to anyone who took care of their health. And she was just a baby in vampire years.

“I ... I guess I’m just—”

“No, you’re not too old to learn a new trick.” Jesus, how quickly the two of them fell into old, predictable patterns. “You’re a brand new Kindred. Throw away everything you used to know, and embrace what we’re telling you. We’ve said it, what, twenty times now? And we’re saying it again, because it’s true. Do what you want, give in, and enjoy your new Kindred body and desires.” He leaned back and smiled, his old cocky smile he used with her when he knew he was correct in an argument. “It’s one of the best things about this new life. Go on, let loose.”

“Letting loose means ordering in some pizza and watching my Friends DVDs.”

He choked on a laugh. Yes, watching a comedy she’d seen a bunch of times, oblivious to the poor resolution, with some pizza, and maybe some soda, was her definition of giving into her more base, carnal desires. She had a lot of work to readjust her expectations.

“Well, you can still enjoy pizza, if you Blush Life and eat some. You’ll be vomiting it up later though, whether you want to or not.”

“Bleh.”

“Yeah. But now you can come to a place like this, and—”

“You like this place? You?” she said, smirking at him. She knew him well, though it wouldn’t take a genius to know he wouldn’t like night clubs and lounges.

“I like the company.” With a grin, he nodded to his lover again. “And, much as I don’t like this sort of atmosphere to hang out, it feels ... feels natural, doesn’t it? The shadows, the crowd, the heat and sweat and blood of prey. If you listen to your instincts Mom, you can walk into that crowd downstairs, dancing and grinding, and you’d know exactly what to do. Exactly who to look at with fluttering eyelashes. Exactly how to move your body to manipulate kine into doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. You’d know exactly how to get them alone, with their guard down, so you can feed.”

And it was true. As his instincts grew, and as he grew more comfortable listening to them, the impulses, desires, and skills of the shadow Beast hiding inside him and all Kindred, it became obvious how to use them. To be a predator, to stalk, hunt, surround, trap, it felt natural. A young woman out of her element in a place like this would be easy to guide into a corner, make her feel trapped, helpless, and a smoldering gaze would have her melting, scared but intrigued. Or a man, drunk and horny, drawn into said dark corner by the helpless woman, who was actually the vampire, hunting with the proven techniques of the angler fish. Not that male and female Kindred always fell into those two roles, but there was no denying they were tried and true approaches.

Hunting would come natural to his mom, too, once she got used to it. And, unfortunately for her, the best way to get used to it, was to experience it.

“I’d know exactly what to do?”

“Indeed,” Antoinette said. “But, as your sire, I will guide you in that general direction, and present the circumstance from which you can learn without threat.”

“Threat?”

The Prince nodded. “Many Kindred are forced to learn in far less controlled circumstances. In other cities, you might find yourself hunting city streets, while gang wars between infantile kine raged around you. Or, in quieter towns, a witch of the Circle might cast you into the woods, and demand you survive on the blood of animals, while forced to build your own shelter against the sun. You would be given no instruction, no aid, and would only be allowed to return after a week.”

Holy shit. Witches did that? Jack knew Jacob would probably do some hardcore shit with a new childe, but he hadn’t expected something like that; assuming she was talking about Jacob.

“That ... um ... I d-don’t think I’d be able to survive that.”

“Few would,” Antoinette said. “Though, such practices are from a time when kine hunted with bow and axe. In the modern day, I suspect a Kindred who wished to put their new childe through a hazing of deadly proportions, would throw them into the sewers, and hunt them with a pistol.”

Samantha’s eyes went wide. “That’s horrible!”

The Prince nodded as her eyes drifted around, looking at nearby booths and the kine they held. “I agree, my childe. Be glad this is my city, and I do not respect barbarism. There will be time to teach you in forms of self defense, rather than hope you can summon such skills in moments of random despair. And until such a time that your life could be in danger, I will not ask you to learn such skills; at least not so quickly. No, I will protect you and guard you, keep you safe, and let you learn the most essential skills of the Kindred first: how to hunt.”

Jack’s mom looked at Antoinette, and so did Jack. This was a side of the Prince he hadn’t expected to see. It was true that Antoinette could be motherly, especially when she wanted to pamper and tease Jack, but this role of teacher, guardian, and nurturer, wasn’t a look he’d ever seen on her. Maybe Tash got to see it, but it was a new look for Jack. Antoinette was looking around like a mother hen, checking for threats and scoping for potential targets for Samantha, and she was doing it in such a subtle way, his mom hadn’t noticed it before. She was noticing it now.

The relationship between those two was something Jack didn’t think he’d ever be able to fully understand. His mom was a teddy bear, capable of soft love and nothing else. Growing up, the most she’d ever managed to do as a form of punishment, was a hard slap on the back of Jack’s hand, followed by a whole ten seconds of yelling. Antoinette on the other hand, was capable of some extreme ruthlessness, to a degree he doubted his mom had yet to even realize, let alone considered the implications of. How did the two of them talk when he wasn’t around? What did they talk about? If his mom was an animal, she’d be a panda, and Antoinette would be a tiger; or a dragon. Tigers would hunt pandas if given the chance, while this one was trying to raise a panda cub.

It was adorable, and strange, and wonderful.

“Mom, listen.” He rubbed his head a few times before leaning in even closer. “Just go downstairs, sit at a booth or the bar, and wait. And while you wait, flaunt a little.” Do everything in your power to ignore the fact that this is your mom, Jack. She’s not your mom tonight. She’s a Kindred who needs to hunt but doesn’t have the confidence. “Flaunt, and if you see someone looking at you, go sit with them. Smile, flirt, be yourself, you know? Just like you were with Jessy’s ghouls.”

“I ... I didn’t really feel like myself with those boys.” Squirming and wriggling, Samantha looked down, occasionally glancing her sire’s way to see if she had anything to say, or maybe would disagree with Jack. He knew Antoinette wouldn’t. He’d learned this from her. “I was being so forward!”

“That’s your Daeva side showing through, and your Kindred confidence. They’re prey, you’re the predator, and you knew it, the moment you sat with them, right?” He ducked his head down a bit so he could get a better look at her down-turned eyes. “Antoinette told me. And Jessy told me, too. You had fun with them, getting all touchy with them when feeding.”

His mom squirmed all the more. “We didn’t ... I mean, I didn’t ... you know...”

Jack rolled his eyes. Getting through to her was going to be tough. To let go, just go with the flow, just let instinct and hunger pilot for a little while, was not something his mom could do; not easily, at least. Jack had never really noticed it when he was younger. And he stopped looking at his family much at all, when his dad died. But now, it was so obvious, it made him want to slap himself for not knowing. His mom had all the classic signs of a young woman with no self confidence, and the typical inward-driven neurotic, negative views of herself. She was the sort of woman who’d stand in front of a mirror, pinch her belly fat, frown because she didn’t fit the idealistic body image view she held, and then eat a box of cookies while watching romcoms.

She had managed to stop eating the cookies, in an effort to get herself back on the market though. There was will there, determination, and if she could bring it to the surface and mix it with her new Kindred instincts, she’d be able to find a little slice of happiness for herself.

“Look at me, Mom. I look good, don’t I?” He sat up straight and gestured to himself, his casual suit, his subtle but solid smile. The Julias smile.

“Of course, dear. You look handsome.”

Oh god. It took some serious effort to not laugh at the classic mom appraisal.

“No, I mean I look good. Confident. Well kept. Fit. Financially secure. I look like someone a woman — or man — would want to talk to.” He tapped a finger on the table, then pointed it at her. “And so do you. You look like a woman, a confident, thin, sexy woman who has her life in order. You look like someone guys will want to talk to.”

That hit home. His mom had probably wanted to rebuild her life, and had framed a lot of her romantic goals around that. That life was gone, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t frame her new life in the same terms, at least a little. She wasn’t a broken widow with nothing going for her. She was a sexy, confident woman who had everything going for her.

Antoinette chuckled as she watched. This was a lesson for her too, on how to deal with his mother. Not that the Prince needed the lesson, but Jack could see she was delighted to see what sort of words worked best on Samantha.

“People will want to talk to me. People ... will want to talk to me.” Nodding, gulping, she pushed down her apprehension, and pushed herself up from the booth. “So I go downstairs, and—”

“Take in your surroundings,” Antoinette said, “look for prey that interests you, and catch their eye. It will be easy.” The Prince touched a lip, exposing a fang as she smiled. “And with a touch of Majesty, my childe, all of this will be rendered simple and effortless, but for the effort to use a Kindred discipline.”

“Um, I don’t know if ... if I can use that, like we talked about.”

Antoinette shrugged, and nodded toward the stairs. “You are welcome to not use it. But I do expect to see you at least attempt to Kiss someone tonight, my childe.” This time, the Prince put a little ice in her words, and Jack winced.

Samantha squeaked, and walked down the stairs.

Jack laughed, sat up, and looked at his lover. She met his gaze, and they smiled for a time, before their eyes drifted away. And when they did, icy pain filled his guts. This had to end. He wasn’t going to let the relationship die because of this curse.

Nothing else in his life was going to die anymore. Nothing.

“Ok, I thought that’d be more awkward. That was actually fun, and funny,” he said as they stepped into the vault bedroom.

“Oui, vraiment. I think my new childe will prove to be a delightful, fun creature, once she moves past her grieving, as she has begun.”

His mom had managed to find someone to Kiss. It hadn’t taken her long at all, actually, and when Jack and Antoinette went down to check on her progress, they’d found her trying to help the man she’d put into a temporary coma. A good thing she remembered to lick the wound clean, because she hadn’t remembered what gravity did to someone when they went comatose. The poor guy had nearly fallen out of the booth, and she’d had to struggle to keep him from doing so.

The look on her face, of joy from a successful hunt, and panic from having to keep a body from literally falling out onto the floor, had been hilarious.

Laughing with her usual, quiet, sultry little chuckles, Antoinette walked to her side closet, where a hidden palace of clothes awaited her. Jack didn’t really bother with a closet; unless he spilled something on his suit, he had no need to change. A trip back to his apartment every few days was perfectly fine for clothes-changing, for a vampire.

But, he did like to watch her prepare for bed. For the past two weeks, he hadn’t watched, he’d simply gone to bed, lay down, and waited for dawn, when daily torpor would bring them under. They talked a little, sure, but heavy conversations were handled during the night, and come time for sleep, they simply let sleep come.

They’d arrived at her tower with an hour before dawn though, and that meant Antoinette was likely to read a book while waiting for sunrise. She’d disrobe, put on a nightgown, and lie in bed next to him. Like an old married couple, complete with the lack of sex. Fifteen nights now, including the one where he’d been staked, they hadn’t touched each other. To go two nights in a row without sex was unusual for them, let alone fifteen.

He hated this. He was feeling depressed about Mary, and especially about Julias, but that wasn’t the whole reason. She was feeling uneasy about the curse, and much as he tried to deny it, so was he.

Sighing, he put his shoulder to the frame of the door to her closet room, and watched her slip off her shoes, still in her dress.

“Do you trust me?”

She stood up straight, now barefoot, and looked up with a slightly raised eyebrow. As she met his gaze, her eyebrow lowered, and her eyes grew heavy with realization.

“I ... I find it difficult to ignore, little Ventrue, that you are not entirely you, anymore.”

“You’re telling me.” He tilted his head so it rested against the door opening as well. Door wasn’t really the right word, considering it was a hole carved into the fancy black marble. “I can feel it lurking. I mean, every Kindred’s Beast lurks, right? And Begotten have their nightmare horror thing, and Uratha have their ... wolfish spirit thing, I guess. But this curse, it’s different.”

Antoinette nodded, and turned her back to him as she reached up to slip off the neck of her dress up over her head, to let it fall forward from her.

He came up behind her, and set his hands on her hips, hands stopping her dress from falling down her legs. She must have heard him coming, but she still shivered a little when his fingers found her, and not the good kind of shivers.

“This thing inside me, it’s ... it’s not trying to take me over, or trick me, or trick you. It’s deep down, and under control. You ... you don’t have to worry. It’s not going to attack you, or the city.” It’d attack the hunters, or maybe get a little overzealous in abusing its power, but it didn’t seem to have any desire to harm Kindred.

“It is not me or my city I worry for, my love. It is you. This entity affects you.”

“It ... yeah, it does. But it’s different now. It’s ... its own thing, its own entity. The rage I felt before, the weird, disturbing thoughts, I can feel them, but they’re not mine.” He leaned forward, and pressed his forehead against her naked back, right underneath her neck. So tall. “I’m ... I’m still me.”

She nodded. Standing there, unmoving, she set her hands on his where they sat on her hips, and she caressed his knuckles lightly.

“I am sorry, my love, for keeping you at a distance. That night, where another person’s eyes looked back at me through yours, was ... painful. For a brief moment, I felt as Beatrice does now.”

He flinched. Ouch.

“It’s not going to change me, or take me over, or anything like that. The worst that’ll happen is it makes an appearance when it’s time to fight the hunters. Otherwise, it’s just me.”

“ ... Promise?”

“Promise.” You hear that, monster? You’re just a passenger in this car.

The monster said nothing. He knew it could hear him, his thoughts, but it seemed content to lurk, its desires and urges dormant. And Jack was thankful. Not so much thankful that his Beast seemed to have obtained sentience, or fake it somehow, but thankful that, in the end, all the horrible thoughts he’d been having before weren’t entirely his. It wasn’t him that was going mad with bloodlust and wanton rage every time he thought of Angela, it was the curse creeping around inside him.

Well, maybe some of it was him. Who wouldn’t get overwhelming, royally pissed at the sight of someone who’d basically become their mortal enemy? That, he could accept was him. The desire to rip off her head and dance in the blood squirting from her neck? Thank god, thank fucking god, that wasn’t him.

And he was eager to show his lover that it wasn’t.

“Do you trust me?” he said.

“Of course, mon chéri.”

He smiled, and lifted his head up a bit so he could kiss between her shoulder blades. Instant reaction. She shivered, and this time it was the good kind. Much as Antoinette liked to act like the suave, seductive succubus, she craved sex as much as any young man did; or older woman, heh.

“Want to prove it for me?” He stepped away, hands slipping out from under hers, and off her hips.

She turned around, and exposing her devilish smile, as she stood before him. She was wearing only a thong, a black thong, and it hugged her wide hips hard enough he could see the light pinch it made in her soft skin. Leaning on one leg and hip, she looked him up and down, smile showing through all the more once she met his eyes. It was tough pulling his eyes away from that thong for a moment so he could meet her gaze in return, but it was worth it.

She knew his eyes, and he knew hers. Intimacy, familiarity, comfortable and divine at the same time. The fact she visibly relaxed when looking into his eyes also undid a knot in his stomach that’d been tightening for days. She believed him.

“Very well, my little Ventrue. What would you have of me?”

A devil smile of his own sneaked onto his face, despite his attempts to hide it. He was so bad at poker.

“Sit on the bed with me, and let me do whatever I want to you.”

“Ah, this game. We have played it before, have we not?” She walked past him toward the bed, and as she did, she Blushed Life. So well timed, it sent a fire into him in seconds, and he groaned as he Blushed Life as well. “I submit to your will, oh mighty, regal Ventrue.”

There’s nothing in the world like watching a woman walk away; or in this case, walk away and toward the enormous bed in the back center of the room. She knew how to emphasize each step, making her large, shapely ass sway. And the black thong, worn to match the revealing dress she no longer wore, looked perfect against her alabaster skin. As she walked, she raised her hands, elbows up, and ran her fingers back through her hair, showing off her figure. Her breasts were more than large enough that he could see the sides of them from behind, overwhelming her chest and lightly jiggling with her catwalk.

It took a lot of willpower to not sprint after her. Forcing himself to walk, he stared after her, drinking in the sight of large, shapely things, rippling with gravity and her exaggerated, fashion model runway walk. Once she reached the bed, she climbed up and crawled along the black silk sheets, prowling, arching her back down so her breasts swayed underneath her with each forward motion. Once she reached the center of the massive bed, she rolled onto her hip and sat there, legs out to her side, one hand to the sheets to keep her torso up straight, other hand resting on her legs.

He slid out of his suit, and threw his clothes onto the floor, literally. No way he was going to hang them up like she usually insisted; she did hate wrinkles. But he had to have her, now.

“Most unbecoming a Ventrue of the Invictus.”

“Sorry.” But not sorry. He climbed up onto the bed after her, and knelt in front of her, eyes looking her up and down. Fifteen days of no sex might as well have been an eternity. “Sit against some pillows for me?”

Smiling all the more, she grabbed some of the many, large pillows, and set them atop each other, against the headboard. Once done, it’d made a slope of pillows, and she was free to lean back against it, sitting comfortably on her butt, her legs out in front of her on the bed. It made it easy for him to crawl over her legs, reach down for her hips, and begin the hypnotizing journey of sliding the tiny piece of black fabric down her milky skin. She leaned side to side, helping him get the fabric past her large buttocks, and then raised her legs a bit so he could finish the job.

“You said you trust me, right?”

“Oui, mon amour.”

“Alright. Get comfortable for me. Lean back, relax, spread your legs, and play with your nipples.” His words earned a raised brow, but a smile a moment later as she did as he said.

With a relaxed sigh, she snuggled back into the pillows holding her naked body half sitting up. Slowly, she opened her legs, alabaster skin spreading to reveal the pink of her labia, the mound of her mons, and its complete smoothness. As she exposed herself, she set both her hands on her flat stomach, one higher and placed up onto her breasts, so she could begin circling one of her large, pink nipples with her fingertips. It swelled, slowly, but Jack was more than willing to wait a minute or two simply watching her touch herself.

As the busty goddess fell into a hypnotizing rhythm, her pussy clenched a few times; he was kneeling between her thighs, and could see it in close detail between her lips. He scooted his ass and legs back, lay on his stomach, and got up between her thighs. A kiss for the left one. A kiss for the right one. He offered a few suckles, sliding his lips down closer and closer to her sex, as he enjoyed the way her smooth inner thighs felt against his lips and nose. And, taking his sweet time to actually reach her awaiting lips, meant she was getting more and more turned on as she masturbated with her nipples.

This long without sex? Last thing he was going to do was rush it.

Once his kisses tickled along her vulva, only grazing along her lips, she moaned. A quiet, little thing, but her noises were always quiet and controlled. Earning one was a big deal, an indication of her arousal, and a kiss on her pussy proved it. Wet.

He slowly encased the whole of her pussy in his maw, burying it, covering it with his lips and making sure to encompass the top of it deep into his mouth. Like this, it was easy to bury her clitoris with his tongue, and provide it slow, long, massaging licks, without ever having to stop kissing her body.