Chapter 116

~~Jack~~

Her. It was her. No doubt about it. As if someone popped a balloon in his face, snapping out of his memory to the present was loud and painful.

That was Susanna’s childe, and Jack’s great grandsire.

“In the name of peace,” Antoinette continued, “these three hunters were invited to the ball to be shown that Dolareido, my city, is not as devolved as other cities with a Kindred presence. We are better than our baser desires.” She adopted an evil smile, and looked back to the hunters. “Mingle with my Kindred, dear hunters. Be at ease, and enjoy the pleasures we provide, for they are many.” It sounded less like an offering, and more of a command.

Jack’s eyes flicked over to the hunters. Harcourt, Marge, and Dennis, three humans who were very out of place, but Antoinette was manipulating them into being merged into Dolareido, or at least not hostile toward it. Considering what she said, no one would be stupid enough to dose them with blood and bind them with the Vinculum, or kill them, and especially not embrace them. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t get manipulated into a night of amazing sex and Kisses. And the hunters knew it, too.

But the surprise of seeing them at the ball was nothing compared to the surprise of seeing his great grandsire. Elaine. An elder, and a member of the Ordo Dracul. Antoinette’s friend. He rubbed his head, seeking the feel of buzzed hair against his fingers and scalp, desperate for the soothing sensation. His great grandsire, alive, in the Ordo, and his lover’s friend. Think think think.

There were no way this was coincidence. Elaine must have known who Viktor was, she sired him after all. She must have known about Julias then, since Elaine had visited Dolareido several times before, according to the Prince. And, if Antoinette and Elaine were friends, that meant Elaine likely knew about Jack. She knew he was Julias’s childe. She knew he was Viktor’s grandchilde, and her great grandchilde.

Why did she come now? There had to be—the crows! At the hospital. When he’d first let the curse out, and it’d summoned a legion of crows, that shit had hit the news. The Invictus had done an excellent job suppressing the fallout of that, but that didn’t mean people hadn’t learned about it. Or maybe Antoinette had just told Elaine about Jack’s curse directly, considering researching shit like that was probably something the Ordo did.

She had to know about him, and she had to know about the curse. Did she know it spoke to him? Did she know it had contaminated his mind, had him half convinced he’d devolved into a killer, before he broke the seal. The curse’s desires had morphed and solidified into a separate personality now, no longer tampering with his mind covertly, but overtly. Did it do that to her, too?

Jack snapped his head around. Where was he, where was he? There, Jen, and Sándor. He slid over to them, taking advantage of how Maria, Michael, Garry, and Jacob all came up to shake Elaine’s hand. They were a nice distraction for Antoinette. She’d want him to come up to her in a moment, but he needed to know something, and know it now.

“Sándor,” he whispered, once was close to the man.

“Jack,” the monster said. He almost slid away, once Jack got close. Right, the man was a Begotten, and while other Kindred could sense the curse, and how it inflated Jack’s Beast, Sándor could see it in all its twisted, disturbing glory. Perfect.

“Jack?” Jen said. Jack leaned in closer. Hint, be quiet. She raised a brow, but stopped talking.

“Sándor, that newcomer, Elaine. What does her Beast look like?”

“Her Beast?” Sándor, one brow slightly raised, looked at Jack, then around at the Kindred around him, then to Elaine, who was shaking hands with Maria. “Normal. The only one here with an unusual creature beneath the skin, is you, Jack.”

“Really? Uh, how about ... chains? Anything like chains, or something that could be tying her Beast down? Like, a binding?”

“No, Jack. The creature of shadow and fog, claws and beaks, fangs and talons and feathers, the strange malleable cloud that is the Beast, is the same in her as I see in everyone. Only the ... titanic monstrosity in you, is different.” Quite verbose for the gargoyle.

Frowning at him, Sándor took a small step away from him, toward Jen. And Jen didn’t miss a beat, hooking her arm with his again, and smiling up at him before throwing Jack a ‘sorry about this’ look.

Jack managed a smile for her. It was obvious she was manipulating Sándor, so obvious that Sándor must have known, and Jen knew that he knew. It was kind of cute, honestly, how the Begotten was just too closed off and stoic to stop her from dragging him around like an arm candy himbo. And it was obvious she was using him as a tool to help Triss. The girl had a kind heart, despite her demeanor.

Sighing, Jack nodded to Sándor. “Thanks.”

He didn’t wait for the Begotten’s response. The elders were done greeting Elaine, and were dispersing back into the crowd, after giving the hunters some distrusting glares. Right on time, Antoinette looked around for him, and Jack met her eyes as he walked toward her.

Elaine’s curse was ... gone? No chains? Jack could still remember the Beast from the vision, and how it’d been covered in chains until he’d destroyed them. The other Begotten had seen them on him, but hadn’t called them out; a classic ‘nobody asked’ sorta situation. And now that the curse was loose in Jack, the Begotten were afraid to even get close to him. Except Fiona of course, but Fiona was Fiona. If Sándor said Elaine’s Beast didn’t look mutated or bound, he believed him.

As he approached his great grandsire, Antoinette, his mom, Daniel, and the two ghouls, Jack reached into his core, and did his best to sense what he could. His Kindred senses, his Beast, found nothing out of the ordinary. It did its usual song and dance with Antoinette, though now that his Beast was a twisted, cursed thing, what used to be a purely submissive gesture, wasn’t nearly as passive. It bowed to Antoinette, but because it wanted to, not because it had to.

He could feel his mother’s Beast, shrinking into itself at being surrounded by so many elders. His approach didn’t help, and he winced as he watched his mom turn to him, freeze for a moment as her Beast shuddered at the sight of him, before her conscious mind pushed past it. The older his mom got, the better she’d get at listening to her Beast and Kindred instincts, and that was going to be painful for him, if he didn’t get rid of this curse.

And maybe, just maybe, considering Elaine’s condition, he could do just that.

“Mom,” he said, “you look amazing.” And he did his best to avoid looking at how much of his mom’s skin the dress showed. Hard to do. He’d never seen her look so amazing, and as much as he could see his mom had hit probably ninety percent maximum embarrassment load, there was a bit of pride and joy in there too. She liked looking good, and having so many eyes on her. Once she got past the embarrassment phase, her Daeva blood would kick in, and she’d enjoy being in the limelight like Antoinette, Isabella, and Othello did.

Much as he felt he should be kinda freaked out by the idea of his mom likely having orgies in her future, he was too damn distracted by the tall blonde who’d jumped out of his memories.

“You do too! But, I look like a harlot.” His mom frowned as she looked down at herself.

“Please,” Elaine said, grinning and waving a hand with a small flick, the barest touch of a English accent coming through. “If you are a harlot, then your sire and I may as well dance naked in the streets.”

“As if you have never done so.” Chuckling, Antoinette walked past Elaine, up to Jack, bent down, and leaned in for a kiss. He gave it to her, drawing on every bit of teaching Julias had ever given him on how to manage a poker face. It was enough to fool his mom and the ghouls, but the three elders? No chance. At least he could mostly trust Daniel to remain indifferent.

Antoinette’s brows furrowed, and she blinked at him twice, searching for whatever it was that was bothering him. He smiled for her, letting her know he realized she knew, and silently mouthed ‘later’. She nodded, but a speck of uncertainty remained on her face.

“My love,” she said, “this is Elaine.” No last name, like her, like Daniel, like Jacob. “A Ventrue, and valued dragon in the Ordo Dracul. Elaine, this is my little Ventrue, Jack Terry of the Invictus.”

Jack glanced around quickly before looking back to Elaine. If people watched too closely, they might notice Jack’s behavior, and he knew he didn’t have the skill to not give something away if everyone was watching.

The crowd had begun to mingle again, and the hunters were promptly surrounded by some very hungry looking vampires. But before things got crazy, the witches of all people, save Jacob, went over to join the hunters. Well, Harcourt knew them, so they were a decent familiar face in the crowd for him. More and more Kindred drifted toward the hunters, even the younger ones, all pretty excited that some hunters had actually helped defeat the threat. No one at the party had expected to actually get the opportunity to talk to them, and potentially, maybe even feed on them.

No one even looked at Jack or Elaine anymore. Perfect.

Jack offered his fellow Ventrue a small bow and nod. “You look lovely, Elaine.”

“Don’t I?” Laughing, Elaine tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “I was told that this ball would be less scandalous than what I would normally expect from my good friend. A lie, obviously.”

“Not a lie,” Antoinette said with a touch of laughter, “but I did suspect the joyous occasion would have my Kindred happy to show skin.” After motioning to the crowd around her, she laughed again, and stepped in close enough to Elaine that they were almost touching shoulders as they looked at Jack. Damn, they were tall. “Have the Begotten not arrived? I see the gargoyle Sándor, but neither Fiona or Athalia.”

His mom nodded with her sire’s question.

“They haven’t.” Sighing, Jack looked around the crowd again, then gave his mom a quick ‘I don’t know’ glance, before looking to the two elders again. “They might. Night’s still young.”

“I hope they do,” his mom said. A moment of silence followed, and everyone pursed their lips for a moment. The chance they’d show up was small, especially if Fiona wasn’t here yet; Azamel probably keeping them home.

“Samantha.” Antoinette leaned down over her childe, and set a hand on her shoulder. “Go, mingle. Bring Ashley and Julee with you, and introduce yourself to some Kindred.”

Samantha gulped as her eyes went wide. She looked at her sire for a second, then looked around again. Judging by how she squirmed, she couldn’t help but be intimidated by all the skin on display. Combined with her young Kindred age, it’d be hella intimidating for her to approach strangers.

“Um, you ... don’t want to introduce me, sire?”

Laughing, Antoinette shook her head. “I introduced you to the Primogen. Beyond that, you need to make an effort yourself. But, I suppose this is your first ball. Find Natasha, and ask for her help.”

“Oh right. Natasha.” Nodding, Jack’s mom started walking past, but not before stopping beside him and smiling at him. “Um, have fun?”

He choked on a surprise laugh. Good god, his mom. “I’ve done this before, a few times actually. And my date is hosting the ball, remember? I’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, need a shove in the general direction of fun. You’re not my mom here. You’re a new vampire with powerful connections.”

“Powerful connections,” Antoinette said, nodding.

“Powerful connections!” the two ghouls said, and they pulled Samantha off, practically against her will judging by how she dragged her heels.

Antoinette leaned toward her sheriff, and whispered something. Jack couldn’t hear over the music, but it probably amounted to ‘keep an eye on her’. Daniel nodded, and stepped away from them until he was near a wall where he could watch the crowd.

That left Jack standing alone with the two elders. Ok, so, tell them? There was no way he could keep his awareness of Elaine secret for very long. They might not figure out what was going in his head, but they’d realize something was up in no time.

He looked at them, and tried to focus his thoughts. Hard, so very damn hard, when both women were utterly gorgeous. Antoinette’s dangling hip straps masquerading as a skirt had let the entire city see her micro thong, and how little it covered. The corset, which had cinched her waist so tight it was basically a torture device, was ornate and beautiful. And while it raised high enough to cover her breasts, the cups that held them sat very well, and were barely existent. A hint of both her areola were visible along the top of the corset, and both breasts were pushed up to create the most arousing pair of enormous pillows he’d ever seen.

Elaine and her see-through dress cut through the pretense of wearing revealing clothes, and instead opted to literally reveal everything to anyone who looked long enough. The simple dress with its two dangling black straps over her breasts, and the long skirt with an equally long split, did look gorgeous, but the fact he could see through it added an air of command that he recognized as very Ventrue. And she was almost as tall as Antoinette, with huge breasts, a tight waist, and wide hips. If she’d bleached her hair and put on red contacts, she’d have looked pretty damn close to the Prince.

Both sumptuous women were looking at him, Antoinette with a hint of confusion, and Elaine with some obvious intrigue. She looked him up and down, and slowly licked her lips as her eyes lingered on his stomach.

“Your little Ventrue,” Elaine said, voice dark and husky, “is a delicious thing.”

“Is he not?” After giving Jack a wicked grin, Antoinette motioned for a nearby waitress to join them. Soon, the three of them had glasses in their hands, and were sipping blood, nonchalant and relaxed. They weren’t relaxed. The three of them were trying to figure out what was going on, without saying it. Fucking Danse Macabre.

“Thank you,” he said to his great grandsire. “I ... understand that you’ve been friends with the Prince for a long time?”

“Centuries.” She took a step closer to him, then another, and once she was almost close enough to touch him with her shoulders, she started to slowly walk around him. She may not have had a foot of height on him like the Prince did, but she still had good eight inches; more, with the heels. “She speaks highly of you.”

He tracked her with his eyes, but didn’t turn his head to follow her. Couldn’t show weakness to a fellow Ventrue, or he’d be asking for trouble.

“She’s the best thing to ever happen to me,” he said.

Elaine crooned as she came back around to the front of him, and stood shoulder to shoulder with the Prince. “You two are utterly adorable together. I hope to get to see more of you. A lot more.”

And there it was, what Antoinette warned him about. The sly grin. The direct eye contact, with another lick of her lips. A slide of her fingers over her ear to adjust her hair. She’d stuck her hip out more than she needed to, and as she folded her arms under her bosom to relax, one arm out at the elbow holding her glass, she made sure to hug her breasts as she did it. The body language was blatant: look at me, I am beautiful, and you want me.

Well, she certainly was beautiful, but he wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole if Antoinette didn’t want him to. Kinda the whole deal with a trusting relationship. But the fact Antoinette had basically given him permission to invite Elaine into their bed, and had shared stories with him of the naughty things she’d done with her old friend, put a wholly different spin on the situation. A beautiful, half-naked curvy woman was hitting on him, and his girlfriend liked the idea of having her in their bed. Antoinette, naked, breasts pressed to Elaine’s, both of them wriggling on him, writhing, and—

God damn it, it sucked being a man, sometimes. Even without the Blush of Life, his dick was trying to lead the show, and it demanded more boobs. Good fucking god, focus! Do not listen to the dick. The dick is not your friend. The dick wants immediate satisfaction, and the consequences be damned.

“I ... can’t say I’d mind that,” he said. Ok, yes, that was dangerously close to asking her to join him and the Prince. Not quite, but almost. Christ, asking a vampire, half a millennium old, to join him for a threesome? Or ... fivesome? She’s your great grandsire for fuck’s sake. Susanna’s childe! Be more concerned with how she got rid of the curse, of her possible motivations for coming here, not how to get that dress off her.

“Neither would I,” Antoinette said. She stepped up behind him, and while she held her glass of blood with one hand, the other reached down, traced along his buzzed hair, down his neck, down his chest, and down to his exposed abs where his shirt was open.

Oh god, he was squirming. Squirming squirming, like the first night he spoke to Antoinette in Bloodlust. It didn’t matter that the curse had given him the strength of an elder, and that in a contest of pure strength, he felt he could probably win against most of the elders in the room, if not all. But Elaine was a woman, an older one at that, with centuries of all sorts of experience. He was a child compared to her, and to be the target of her flirting, and Antoinette’s as well, was making him wriggle like a worm on a hook.

Jack gulped down another sip of his drink, did his best to not stare at Elaine’s breasts through her dress, and looked up at Antoinette beside him. Did she know who Elaine really was? It didn’t look like it. Should he say it? No, not here in the middle of the ballroom floor.

“Um...” Shit. Get control of your words. “I wanted to ask, what brings you to Dolareido, Elaine? Experiments for the Ordo?”

She grinned at him as she watched him. Almost like an evil scientist, complete with evil smile, she kept her eyes on him, taking mental notes of him. If she’d had a pad in her hand and a white lab coat, it’d have fit perfectly.

“The Prince’s delving into the world of ephemera is of great interest to many in my order. I would love to see what she has learned lately.”

“That’s ... not it.” Ugh, he shouldn’t have said it. He should have just nodded and smiled, pretending to believe her. But it would have been written on his face that he didn’t believe her, anyway. Better to at least admit that he knew something.

Elaine’s smile changed. It didn’t disappear, but it did change, no longer the playfully evil PhD scientist, and now something far more serious. It was the sort of smile Michael put on when he was negotiating.

“Oh?”

“You’re here for something else.” He quickly glanced to Antoinette, still behind him, but she looked intrigued more than anything.

“Am I?” The sparkle in Elaine’s eye announced her excitement that he had the balls to confront her like this. “Then do tell, Jack Terry. What am I here for?”

So much for not bringing this topic up in the middle of the ballroom floor. Ugh, being surrounded by beautiful women did a number on his thinking ability.

“I—” No. Wait. Be smart about this. For once, stop being direct and honest about things, and try playing the game a bit. “Let’s talk after the ball?”

“Oh. Dangling a carrot in front of me?” Elaine laughed, reached out, and touched his shoulder. “Very well. I await with bated breath. Ann, I shall rejoin you in a moment or three? I wish to speak with that blasted sheriff of yours.”

“Please do, Elaine.”

With a small nod, Elaine grinned at Jack again, gave Antoinette a proper smile, and walked off in search of the sheriff.

“Why does she want to talk to Daniel?” Jack said.

“She has been interested in my sheriff for many decades.”

“He doesn’t reciprocate?”

“He does not reciprocate with anyone.” Shrugging, Antoinette stepped around him again, and smiled down at him. “You believe Elaine wishes to learn more of your curse.”

“I assume you told her about it. Or that she’s here to look into whatever summoned those crows that showed up on the news.”

“I did tell her, weeks ago. I trust her with much, my love. Though, I would trust her with my life, before I trusted her with all my secrets; professional rivalry, you see. Many in the Ordo have dealt with strange phenomena, such as this curse that plagues you.”

“Yeah, I would have told her too, if I were you.” Sighing, he looked down, and stared at his shoes. How to handle this? What to do?

“Something bothers you, my love, something to do with Elaine. What is it? If she is being too direct about her desire to partake of you sexually, that—”

“No no, that’s not it. Er, well, I mean ... I got the impression she enjoyed making me squirm.” He couldn’t help but smile as he looked up at his love. “Easy to see how you two get along.”

“Ah oui. Birds of a feather.” She leaned down, and kissed him proper, lips to lips. And of course, she didn’t close her eyes when she did, keeping them open a crack, until he eventually closed his. “If it is not her sexuality that has frazzled you, what has? It seemed as if you knew something, something I do not.”

He could keep it a secret. Antoinette wouldn’t even hold it against him if he did, not really. The Danse Macabre was played by everyone, and that meant he should always make decisions with that in mind. But now that Julias was gone, he didn’t have anyone to come to with this. Everyone else was a friend, but Antoinette was a genuine force, a powerful figure in the Danse, and most of all, someone whose motivations he trusted.

“It can wait. Tell you later tonight? She can come, too.” Might as well tell them both, since Antoinette trusted Elaine so much.

“I suppose I must acquiesce.” Laughing again, she kissed his ear, and started to walk. He was expected to follow, and he did. After all the shit that’d happened to him the past few months, he was damn happy to shut off his brain for a while, and do whatever Antoinette wanted.

Except, he couldn’t stop thinking about Elaine. And sure, some of that was because she’d basically offered herself up to him and Antoinette, sexually speaking. But his thoughts kept pulling to the elephant in the room: she was his great grandsire, and her curse was gone. Great grandsire! Curse, gone!

He settled his mind for a moment, and waited for the twisted thing in his guts to speak up. Nothing. He was sure the curse would start talking, but it said nothing. Afraid, maybe, of Elaine? She was a walking, talking example of someone from his bloodline who no longer had the curse; assuming it was the woman from his vision, and not some identical twin. It damn well better be afraid. Now that the hunters were gone, he didn’t need the curse.

He looked to Elaine again, who had found Daniel, and was proceeding to get up in his face until she was almost nose to nose with him. Daniel wouldn’t back down, but it was clear he wasn’t interested, or his poker face was amazing. Considering how gorgeous Elaine was, Jack bet on the former.

Antoinette did her rounds. She always made sure to check up on every single Kindred she could whenever she hosted, or came to a ball. Maybe it was to personally insure every vampire in her city was afraid of her; a little fear was healthy. Maybe it was so she would always be able to identify people by their faces if the need ever arose. Maybe it was because she genuinely enjoyed getting to personally meet every single Kindred in her city. He couldn’t imagine it being that, but the fuck did he know, antisocial as he was.

They found his mom after a while, Ashley and Julee sticking with her like cute bodyguards. Natasha, Arturo, and Matthew were introducing her to the rest of the Uratha. And the Uratha, were getting quite drunk.

“Jack!” his mom said, joining him in what seemed like an effort to escape some heavy gazes. While the Kindred at the ball weren’t Blushing Life, so they could keep their hormones out of the picture, the Uratha had no such option. When a woman in a revealing dress starts talking to you, he couldn’t blame any dude — or gal — from kinda staring.

“Mom. I see you met Avery, Matthew, Arturo, Monica, Brianna, Caleb, Noah, Clara, Erica, Carter, and Mason — and Tilly.” Tilly, dressed in a red dress that hugged her body so tight, every curve was visible, stood with Mason, a grin on her face. At least, until she saw him. The grin vanished, replaced with a mix of trepidation and concern. Another vampire who was afraid of him.

There were a few more in the pack, but they weren’t there, out mingling with the rest of the crowd.

Avery smirked at him. “Think you can charm me by memorizing our names?”

“It’s a start, isn’t it?” He returned the woman’s smirk, before looking to Antoinette.

“Avery,” the Prince said, “I hope you and your family are enjoying the ball.”

“We are,” she said. “Jacob’s still being an asshole though. I’m trying, Prince, really trying to make nice and play nice, but that fucker’s going to throw a punch eventually.”

Frowning, Jack looked around until he spotted Jacob. He was speaking with Beatrice again, and the rest of his witches, who’d left the hunters now. Sándor wasn’t far off, but Jen had let him go, probably so she could speak with her fellow witches and her boss. That might have been a mistake, considering several women had taken the opportunity to approach the Begotten now. Jack would have been tempted to save him, but it was clear that the women were getting nowhere, unable to break the man’s cold exterior.

He looked around until he found Damien. He was with Jessy and Eric, and he looked a bit sad. No Fiona yet. Maybe no Fiona at all. Much as that’d suck, he was glad Athalia wasn’t—

“Now arriving, Begotten Fiona Young, and Begotten Athalia Gardner.”

Antoinette threw up a hand, and somehow, someone somewhere saw the cue, and stopped the band. Everyone froze and turned. Just like when Antoinette arrived, the silence was deafening, the only sound the rubbing of fabrics as everyone looked at the front door. Athalia, and Fiona.

Damn it.

~~Damien~~

He raised his head, looked to the door, and smiled.

Fiona came down the stairs a little faster than was probably expected. No slow, sexy walk for her. She bounced the whole way down, which of course, was damn sexy in its own way. In the tight red dress, it meant lots and lots of jiggling. Red? Darker. Burgundy? It contrasted her pale skin and freckles beautifully, and her big mountain of frizzy red hair matched it nicely as her curls sat on her bare shoulders. The dress had ruffled off-shoulder straps, and the chest hugged her breasts tight with cups of the thin fabric that showed the shape of her nipples. The skirt was long, but the split nearly reached her hip. She had burgundy shoes, too.

No way did she have clothes like that lying around. Someone had to help her get those. Maybe Athalia? Fiona had worn a purple dress to the last party, something classy but with plenty of cleavage, and an open back. That dress had hung loosely, but the burgundy thing she was wearing was a lot tighter, and was actively pressing her breasts up and together. As she practically hopped down the stairs, her breasts bounced up and down on top of their cups, to they point they almost leapt out of them. Lord, give him strength.

“Damien!” she called out, fully ignoring the fact the ball had gone quiet. She jogged over to him, nearly tripped in her heels, recovered, and continued. Once she got to him, she threw her arms around him and pulled him down for a kiss. Not a small peck on the cheek, but a big kiss, long, dramatic, and one that demanded he hug her in return, half just to keep from falling over. His hands found her naked back, and he groaned quietly into her lips.

“Fiona,” he said once she released him. “I’m glad you came. Did Azamel get in the way?”

“Nae! She was angry, sure, but nae angry enough to stop me. We’re late cause I had to convince Athalia to come.”

Damien slowly lifted his gaze from her, to Athalia, and did his best to keep a frown off his face. He succeeded, but he knew Fiona could see the coldness set in his eyes. He felt it, too.

Athalia wore a black dress, and while Damien would have expected a black dress on Athalia, something meant for mourning, this one was not. It was gorgeous, a strapless, tight thing with some ruffles along its front and cleavage. The skirt reached her ankles, no split, and the cleavage wasn’t ridiculous like everyone else’s tonight. Modest, by Dolareido standards. Her long black hair was tied into a braid behind her head, and her eyes were just as cold as Damien’s felt.

She didn’t want to be here.

With a slow breath, Athalia took a step down the stairs. The clack of her heels echoed in the silence. With each step, she glared around at the crowd, as if daring them to say something, daring them to confront her, daring them to make something of her arrival. No one said a word. No one moved. The only movement was Daniel, who stepped away from Elaine, and joined Athalia at the bottom of the stairs. For a moment, Damien thought his fellow Mekhet might attack her, cut her to bits, or kick her out. But, a small glimpse of his eyes past his glasses showed something Damien had never seen on the man, ever, except when Lucas had held Tash hostage. Compassion.