Chapter 118

~~Beatrice~~

The night went so much fucking better than she thought it would have. After her heavy conversation with Jacob, she thought maybe things would get intense, in a bad way. Nope. Dude hung out, chatted with Aaron a bit, and Jack, and now Samantha. More surprising, was how the dragons let him.

Peace was the name of the game tonight. Carthians and Invictus were getting along, at least for now, and everyone else was more than getting along. They were getting fucked, in the good way. Othello was sharing his beautiful ghoul with a Carthian. The hunters were getting gang-Kissed by Isabella and her troupe. The werewolves were getting involved with plenty of people, Carthians and Invictus, and were literally fucking where people could see them. Damn, werewolves were all jacked and ripped.

Some people found it a little too uncomfortable. Avery, Clara, Aaron, Maria, Michael, they all left eventually. Jacob was outside with Samantha. Fiona and Damien were—well, they were probably having sex, on the roof. A few others had left too, but for the most part, the ball still had plenty of people. Over a hundred Kindred, a bunch of werewolves, a bunch of thralls and ghouls, and two Begotten, all remained within.

Sándor, she could understand sticking around, since Jen still held his arm, and the man seemed reluctant to forcibly remove her. He kinda looked like he wanted to, but unless he manually got rid of her, Jennifer just took his defiance as a challenge. It was cute.

Athalia, on the other hand, remained, and Beatrice did not understand why. Jack, Big Tits and Bigger Tits, along with two ballerina ghouls, walked past her, and after a few seconds talk with Jack, Athalia looked better. Legitimately better, like, maybe she didn’t want to kill everyone and everything in the universe anymore. It was clear that she didn’t want to talk to Jack, and the conversation had been very short, but she looked better for it.

But Jack hadn’t been the one to kill Angela, Beatrice had. Sure, Jack did everything to get her there, including drag her broken ass, but he didn’t pull the trigger, she did. No way in hell was Triss going to push, and try and talk to the dead woman’s mother.

Daniel, on the other hand, chatted with her, and she listened. Hell, she even chatted back, and unless Triss was seeing things, she smiled a few times too. Daniel ignored all the sex around him like he was used to it, and he probably was, considering his closest friend thought sex was a literal art form, and had likely indulged in it like a kid in a candy store, for hundreds of years. The sheriff barely acknowledged it. Instead, his focus remained on Athalia, and a sliver of a smile sneaked onto his lips.

The sheriff. Smiling? Triss knew Daniel was one of the first people Athalia had met in Dolareido, when she’d first become a monster. And judging from the looks the two of them shared, she liked him. She might not have liked that she liked him, but she did like him. And Daniel, so closed off he made Sándor look chatty, apparently liked her, too.

Everyone was getting along, every single person. It felt way too weird, and too good to be true. Probably was. In a week or two or ten, something would happen, and shit would get problematic again. The Carthians and Invictus would step on each other’s toes, or maybe the werewolves would pick a fight with someone they thought was fucking with the ‘balance’ or whatever. But for now, it was nice, how everyone was enjoying the peace, peace she’d helped bring.

She looked down, and let a memory up from the grave for a bit. Julias, hugging her, holding her, stroking her hair, kissing her. Just a little, just for a moment, just to remind her why she did what she did.

Except, the memory didn’t go away. She’d gotten good at suppressing them, but after what Jacob said, she couldn’t, not right now. Could he revive Julias? Could she use Crúac, and that bitch Elen, to somehow revive him? God, she shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t. Even Jacob thought it wouldn’t work.

But, god, to hear his voice again, and ... to hold him again, and—

“Triss, you alright?” Jen said.

“I ... I think I want to go now.”

Jennifer let go of Sándor, and set her hands on Triss’s arm. “You—” Her mouth shut when they made eye contact. “Right, right. Let’s go.”

God damn it, it was great having a friend. Didn’t have to explain herself, didn’t need to justify anything, didn’t even need to say a damn thing. Jen recognized the look on her face, knew she was suffering with memories of Julias, and knew she had to get her out of the party asap.

“Sándor,” Triss said, “you could stay or—”

“I’ll leave too.” And without a further word, the man started for the door.

Jen managed some small chuckles, and followed after him. Triss tried to chuckle too, cause Sándor was funny, a perfect straight man. But, she couldn’t chuckle. It choked in her throat, and turned into a quiet sob that forced her to look down and hide her face in the frame of her hair.

On the way out, she spotted Garry. He was chatting with someone, someone Triss didn’t recognize. A vampire, and probably a Gangrel by the way he carried himself. Jeremy Long, Garry’s new childe? Had to be. The Asian-looking fellow had dangerous written right on his forehead, but he managed to stay out of the limelight like an expert Mekhet might. Well, whatever, he was the Invictus’s problem, not hers.

Once Triss, Jen, and Sándor were outside, a quick glance showed Samantha chatting with Jacob on a nearby bench, surrounded by grass and bushes. The Nos looked Triss’s way, offered her a small, knowing nod, and returned to his conversation. She knew Jacob could flirt. Hell, Jacob was a smoother fucker when he wanted to be. But, the look she saw on his face was a little different, a little softer, a little kinder, almost like he was just having a genuinely pleasant conversation. Crazy, to think of Jacob doing something normal, like talking to someone, for the sake of talking to someone. No way he was just talking to her for fun. Jacob, like every elder, always had a bunch of things lined up, so every action benefited him in multiple ways. But, he did really look like he was enjoying himself.

Before she could stop herself, she pictured herself where Samantha was, and Julias where Jacob was. She never did the girly-girly flirts with Julias, and Julias didn’t try and spin fairytale adventures for her. But, that didn’t change that seeing them together reminded her of times with Julias, and—

Jennifer touched her arm. “Don’t do that.”

“I ... I’m not trying to.” Sighing, she shuddered, crossed her arms and rubbed her biceps. “Can we just go?”

“Back to the catacombs?”

Right, the catacombs. If she went back to the cave with the other witches, they’d hear her crying.

“Anywhere private, I suppose. I—”

Sándor looked at her, and she met his eyes for a second. He knew. He knew exactly what she was feeling. And after a quiet moment, the man let out a short sigh, and nodded toward the shadows around the building.

“You want privacy, quickly? Come with me.”

Jen and Triss looked at each other, brows quirked, but after they realized what Sándor was doing, Jen smiled. She took Triss’s hand, and pulled her after the Begotten, as he disappeared into the shadows that sat behind the Black Hall.

It wasn’t the first time Triss had gone through one of the strange holes Begotten dug through reality, or the second. It came with a strange feeling, like walking at night when a thunderstorm was brewing. Electricity in the air. But with Begotten, and the strange ways they opened doors to their nightmare realms, the tingle in the air was less electric, and more like goosebumps. It was a nightmare realm, nightmare, with every intent to be scary, so goosebumps made sense. She wouldn’t get goosebumps without Blushing Life, but that didn’t stop a chill of fear from sneaking up her spine.

She stepped out of the shadows, onto a solid, dark platform. Concrete? Stone? With a few moments to think, she managed to piece together what she was looking at, and she sucked in a quick, useless breath.

There was a stone throne, enormous, and imposing. Around her were titanic pillars, dozens, maybe even hundreds in the gigantic room. Braziers lit the walls, gargoyle-shaped braziers, and they lit the pillars as well, showing frozen statues at the top of each. Gargoyles, each the same size and shape as Sándor’s Horror, giant beasts that could have squashed her like a grape.

Movement in the shadows drew her eyes, and she froze as one of those titanic gargoyles crept around one of the pillars, and onto the huge throne of stone at the end of the room. Sándor didn’t sit in the throne; he couldn’t have, with four wings and a tail. Instead, the monster perched on it, squatting and holding onto the edge of its back with two of his hands, while his two others held his knees.

Triss looked behind her, at a large wooden door, opened, and it led into a hallway she recognized. This wasn’t the place that opened up into the haunted village on the cliff edge. This was the place where Jack and his crew had rescued Eric, Jessy, and Clara. A nightmare chamber, linked to the other one, but not exactly the same place.

Triss and Jen both stared on as the giant got comfortable on his perch, his wings stretching out wide enough to hide a bus. Christ, he was huge, so god damn mother fucking huge.

“Take that door,” the beast rumbled, and he pointed to one of the massive wooden doors that lined the walls of the colossal room, identical to the she’d stepped out of, “to emerge near the South Hill Cemetery.” Right, right, Jen had told him that Triss and she often hung out in the catacombs in the South Hill Cemetery. Nice of him, and impressive, to open a portal straight there. Fiona, er, Vrall, had said his ability to control his lair was crazy strong.

He was a scary strong creature, Sándor. And terrifying. The gargoyle body he morphed into wasn’t gross or anything; hell, it was pretty hot. The issue was her Beast recognized a stronger predator in its blatant superiority. She was a mouse before a tiger.

“Thanks,” she said, and she took a step toward the door.

Before Jen could follow, she stopped.

“Triss?” Jen asked.

“I ... I’m so sick of being sad, you know?” She reached out, set a hand against one of the nearby pillars, maybe thirty feet away from the huge throne. “Christ, it was going well! The party was going well. Everything’s better, right? And ... and then it hits me, out of nowhere.” After a heavy sigh, she turned, pressed her back to the pillar, and slid down until she was on her ass. The dress did not like that, and she didn’t care.

Jen sat down beside her. She did a bit better with her dress, keeping it from getting too bundled up or torn, but the dress was not made for anything but standing or sexily sitting on expensive chairs. The two of them looked ridiculous.

“Come on, we can go to your favorite spot, and—”

“Oh I don’t fucking care if Sándor sees. Dude knows exactly what I’m going through.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugged them tight to her body, and let her forehead fall onto them. If she’d been Blushing Life, tears would have been streaming down her cheeks, and Jennifer knew it too. Her friend wrapped an arm over her shoulders, hugged her, and didn’t say a thing.

Triss really should have gotten up and left. It was pretty pathetic, hanging out in Sándor’s nightmare, struggling to not cry. Struggling, and failing. Sobs broke through, and she leaned into Jennifer as she felt the misery course through her. At this point, she recognized the pains, and could anticipate the phases she’d go through, the way the ache would change over the minutes, until it either exhausted her, or turned to rage. She did her best to stay quiet, to let the agony do its thing, torment her, rip her stomach open and her organs apart, and then be on its merry way. Sometimes it went quickly, sometimes, not so much.

“You might not care,” Jen said eventually, voice soft and delicate, “but ... he might. He—”

“I don’t mind,” the enormous creature rumbled, his own voice quiet, despite the thick bass. “Take as long as you want.”

Triss lifted her head and looked to the creature on the throne. He didn’t move. No tail slithering, no wing shaking, no breathing, nothing. The only movement she’d noticed after he took his perch, was when he bothered to say something. Outside of his few words, nothing, a statue.

“You’re being awfully nice,” Triss said between quiet sobs. At least she wasn’t gushing tears everywhere. “I figured we were being a pain in your ass.” We, including Jen, for obvious reasons.

The gargoyle made a small grunt, and Jennifer chuckled softly in response.

“Two gorgeous women were on his arm all night,” Jen said, “at a luxurious ball. Hardly being a pain in the ass.”

Sándor scoffed, except, in his giant dragon gargoyle body, it sounded more like a heavy rush of air, mixed with a bassy rumble. “You weren’t.”

“Ha, see? It won’t be much longer before he’s asking for our numbers.”

Triss choked on a laugh that forced its way up through her sobs, and she leaned her head into Jen’s side as her friend hugged her.

“Sorry, about Jen. She’s ... she’s...”

Jen sighed, a happy, heavy sound, and kissed her ear. Triss turned, and set a quick kiss on her lips. Not a deep kiss, but long enough to let Jen know she loved her stupid ass, in the strange ‘very close friends’ love they’d developed.

After a long, quiet rumble, the gargoyle spoke. “Not a day goes by ... where I don’t wish I was stronger.”

Triss choked down another rising sob, and looked through the dark to the colossal creature on his giant perch. “Say what? You’re already ridiculously strong.”

“If I was stronger, faster, smarter, I could have saved my family.” His wings, limbs, and tail still didn’t move, even as his mouth did. Creepy. Maybe the little bit of wine he’d drank was getting to him, to actually talk like that, to open up a little. “And Julias Mire would still be alive.”

Beatrice choked again, this time laughing, and she forced herself up to her feet. After stumbling, she growled down at her feet, kicked off her stupid heels, and walked over to the huge throne. Jen followed, though she kept her heels on, and scooped up Triss’s. Strange for a witch to love heels, or be so comfortable in them, but that was Jen.

“You were held in a fucking curse, Sándor. I can’t blame for you what happened to Julias.” She wanted to. Fuck, she wanted to blame him, blame Jack, blame everyone and everything. Blame the whole god damn fucking world. But, she didn’t, and she wouldn’t. She couldn’t let herself sink any deeper into that pit than she’d already had.

“I wasn’t held in the curse, when that monster first came for me.”

The monster, calling Jeremiah a monster. It was so poetic, she’d have vomited if she’d eaten at the ball feast. That’d be a sight, a vampire puking up blood like a fucking geyser.

“Did they just show up in your city or something?” She regretted saying it the moment the words came out of her mouth. “You don’t have to answer that.” God, how fucking nasty a memory was it for the huge fucker, to lose his wife and child to Jeremiah? She hadn’t even seen Julias die, and the memory of learning about it from Jack ate at her every night.

The gargoyle shook his head, slow, lumbering motions, as if he was moving hundreds of pounds with the small movement. He probably was, considering those horns.

“When Begotten grow hungry, and we’re in the physical world, our Horror can become ... unruly. While I sleep, or when I am distracted, it may go out hunting dreams, spreading nightmares. Those nightmares can summon ... people like Jeremiah. Hunters who specialize in hunting monsters.”

“Summon?” Triss said. “How?”

The creature rustled his wings, and dragged his claws along the arm of the stone throne. “I don’t know. But they followed the signs, like dogs on a blood trail.”

“Scary,” Jennifer said.

Triss nodded. “You’re telling me. Christ, we’re really spoiled in Dolareido.” Sighing, she climbed up onto the huge throne, and sat in it. “We weren’t prepared for anything like this.” The colossal gargoyle above her looked down at her, confused, but she didn’t care. Sándor was basically a stranger, and one of the few people who’d understand what she was going through. Maybe talking to him as an outlet was a good idea.

Damn Jennifer, she’d planned this from day one. She was too damn smart.

“Neither was I,” the gargoyle said, his heavy, rumbling voice cold and sad.

Jennifer came over to the throne, stood by one of the huge arms, and looked up at the creature. “You said you weren’t hunting? Why?”

“It ... is difficult, for me to hunt.”

“How so?”

Triss almost jumped in, to tell Jen to leave the guy alone. He’d lost his wife, his kid, and it was indirectly because he was a Begotten. Fucker probably spent every moment of every day racked with guilt, hating himself, wishing he could have protected them, wishing he wasn’t a monster, so psychopath would-be ‘heroes’ would leave him the fuck alone. Poor bastard.

But, after a quiet rumble, Sándor continued.

“I hunger for the chase. I must hunt, and my prey must know it is being hunted. My Horror, it...” The gargoyle sighed, shook his head again, and let it droop. “It is difficult to satisfy. Sometimes, its hunger is too strong, and I devour my prey.”

“Sounds kinda like a vampire problem,” Triss said, “times a thousand.”

“Yes, I suppose it is. Satisfying my hunger is difficult, so I either suppress it, or find a target I do not mind dying, if I fail to control it.” He sighed, and shifted around on the throne for a moment, gargantuan size causing the stones to rub and creak, before he went completely still once again, except for his mouth.

Jennifer raised her hand slightly. “Is there no way to feed more safely?”

“The gargoyle,” Sándor said, voice rumbling with something that sounded almost like anger, deep, rumbling, and raspy, “and any Begotten with predatory hungers, must hunt. I feed on the fear of those that know they are being hunted. The fear can only be consumed, when I chase prey, and then catch them.”

“The fear, not the flesh?” Triss said. “That means, you could spare them?”

“Yes,” he said. “I used to be a detective. I’d hunt criminals. It satisfied the hunger, for a while. But the gargoyle, it ... it is not easily satisfied. I grew hungrier, and killed my prey sometimes.”

A detective. She smiled as she looked down, imagining the man dressed as a detective in the fifties, complete with fedora and trench coat. The smile faded, as she imagined him running down a criminal, catching them, then struggling to keep from ripping the person into literal bits, failing, and eating them while still in his human form.

Part of her kinda wanted to ask about his wife and child. If Jennifer was willing to put so much effort into turning Sándor into an ally, and someone for Triss to talk to, or to fuck, then maybe she should ask about the wife and kid? Or, maybe, she should just shut the fuck up. She didn’t want to talk about Julias, and the man undoubtedly didn’t want to talk about his dead family.

Triss had no intentions of fucking the man, but she had to admit, it was kind of nice, being around someone who knew what she was going through. Hell, he had it worse.

“That’s tough,” she said. “I ... don’t know how to deal with that sort of hunger. Maybe Azamel can help? She’s helped Fiona deal with her hunger.” Azamel was old, but so was Sándor. The two were very powerful, ancient creatures, and if Azamel knew something, Sándor probably would too. Or, maybe not? Sándor didn’t seem to like being a Begotten, while Azamel seemed quite happy being what she was.

The gargoyle sighed again, and nodded. “Perhaps I will.” He was thinking the same thing, from the sound of his voice.

“We can help,” Jennifer said, “with your hunger, I mean.”

Sándor let out a heavy snort. Only heavy because the monster was so damn huge. “How?”

“Dolareido,” Jennifer continued as she began to pace around in front of the throne, “is a huge city. Millions of people live here. There are thousands of criminals and assholes in Devil’s Corner that you can hunt down and beat up. The city was built to be a utopia for vampires, and that includes some places where Kindred can feed ... more violently, when needed.”

Another heavy snort from the giant. “This city is cruel.”

“Now now, it’s not cruel. Dolareido is better off than most cities of this size. But yes, the Prince insured some typical economic and cultural distribution kine habits emerged. That led to poor people, to criminals, and sometimes, poor criminals.” Jennifer shrugged, but her face was hard. “We don’t kill if we can help it, but it is allowed, for a reason. We’re not kine.”

Triss raised a brow at Jennifer, then looked up at the giant gargoyle over her. Sándor did not look happy. Something about Jennifer’s suggestion irritated him. He didn’t like the idea of a city being built, specifically to treat kine like cows or fattened pigs.

Oh god, he was a nice guy. A fucking nice guy. She could understand not wanting to hurt humans; hell, they’d all been human once. But, a nice guy? Christ. He’d looked sad, after she came back from killing Angela. Not ecstatic for killing Jeremiah, like Triss figured he would have been. Nope, he’d been sad, very sad. He didn’t want to hurt people, and it bothered him to hear about people being kept in situations where they could be hurt. He was a nice guy.

The last nice guy she knew was dead.

“I still don’t understand why you’re so intent on helping me,” he said.

“She’s trying to—”

“I,” Jennifer interrupted, “am just doing what Kindred do. You’re a powerful ally. Any self respecting vampire has no choice but to buy you into service. Money, support, sex, whatever works.”

The gargoyle grunted, and the deep sound vibrated the huge throne, straight into Triss’s ass. “At least you’re honest.”

Triss laughed, and buried her face in a hand. That bitch interrupted her, to keep her real motivation a secret. Well, at least Triss wasn’t on the verge of crying anymore. God, it felt nice to laugh.

~~Jack~~

He had no idea what to think, no idea at all.

Trust her? Don’t trust her? Antoinette trusted her, and that trust hadn’t faltered for very long, despite the massive truth bomb. Well, they had known each other for literal centuries. Jack hadn’t even been alive, including his first life years, for a quarter of a single century. The two of them probably had gaps between speaking, due to the nature of their careers in the Ordo, that were literally as long as Jack’s entire lifespan. And then they’d probably picked up talking to each other again, chatting about the latest fashion trends that’d come and gone, as if they hadn’t ever stopped talking.

He should trust the Prince. She was smart, really damn smart. If she trusted Elaine despite everything that happened, he probably should too, at least when it came to personal things. When it came to the curse, he’d have to make that decision on his own.

Another memory hit him, and he struggled to force it down. His mom, talking with Jacob. It bothered him so damn much! It couldn’t have been, like, a misplaced issue over his mom finally moving onto another man. His dad died years ago. He’d have loved for his mom to find romance, just, not with Jacob. The man was too sneaky, too crafty, and too hard to predict. He was up to something, him and Black Blood.

Stop thinking about Jacob and your mom! Think about something else.

He looked down at the hot water coursing around him, and rubbed his head. Ok, reality check. He was in a jacuzzi, in his swimming trunks, because Antoinette told him to sit and wait for a surprise. Naturally, his penis assumed surprise meant lots of boobs wrapped in far-too-small swimsuits. But maybe that was just because he’d been surrounded by so much sex tonight. Sure, Antoinette had made it obvious that she was looking forward to bringing Elaine into their bed, but then she went to have a private chat with her old friend. For all he knew, that private chat might have gone badly.

Heavy, heavy topic, that Elaine had kept secrets. Heavier, that Elaine had once been infected with the curse. He wasn’t sure—

The sound of feet drew his eyes, and his jaw dropped. Antoinette, and Elaine. The two women walked together side by side, and they made sure each step was a calculated, prowling motion, meant to draw his eyes and lock them onto the swaying S shapes of their bodies. They wore bikinis, tiny tiny, tiny, tiny black, string bikinis. Only tiny triangles covered their nipples and sex, and each step they made insured lots of jiggling.

His penis’s assumption had been, evidently, correct.

“H ... Hello,” he said. He’d been thinking about something stressful seconds before, but he hadn’t the slightest idea what it was anymore.

“Hello,” Elaine said, smile only growing as she approached the tub. “I hope you do not mind me joining, Jack?”

“Joining? I ... uh...”

The Prince chuckled softly as she stood beside her friend. “If that is alright? I understand a great many secrets were unveiled tonight, but my friendship with Elaine will hardly be broken by a few secrets. Her connection to you, on the other hand...”

“Um, no! No, I’m ... fine ... with whatever you want to do.”

“Wonderful,” they said together, in unison. They even had the same, evil smiles on.

He stared up at the two women at the edge of the jacuzzi, and offered his smile. It was weak, shaken, confidence destroyed by the sight of two utterly beautiful women. Didn’t matter how strong he was, a confident, beautiful woman put strong Jack away, and brought shy, nervous Jack to the surface. Doubly so, when it was two women.

“W-Where are Julee and Ashley,” he said to them.

Antoinette laughed. “Unconscious.”

Elaine nodded, and ran a finger along the right corner of her mouth. “And delicious.” More than just a taunting gesture, it was a statement. Jack could smell blood, and hints of the two ghouls on their bodies. Antoinette didn’t sleep with her ghouls without Jack since they’d become lovers, but that didn’t mean Elaine wouldn’t get a little frisky when Kissing them.

Ok, so, both elders were coming into the pool with full bellies. He could see they were Blushing Life, because their skin had a touch more color than usual, and more importantly, their nipples were pushing out against the tiny triangles of their string bikinis. He’d fed earlier tonight before the party, but he wasn’t Blushing Life. They were Blushing Life with the natural reflex of a Kindred who’d just gorged themselves, an involuntary reflex, and erotic as all hell.

“Matching bikinis?” Jack said.

Elaine laughed and shrugged. “Your lover knows my measurements. She knew I was coming, and she knew you could not resist my charms.” She stepped down into the hot water, sat across from Jack, crossed her legs, and smiled at him as she set her hands on her lap. Every motion she made was sensual, obviously made to flaunt her body for him, and it was working.

“I ... could resist.” He frowned at that, but he knew it was a damn weak protest.

It was Antoinette’s turn to laugh, and she settled into the water next to Elaine. She hooked her left arm up onto the wall of the jacuzzi, and slid in close so Elaine was snug to her left side, the Prince’s left arm now behind her. Jack gulped as he watched the side of her left breast press into Elaine’s right. Skin-on-skin contact, boob to boob. Good god in heaven.

“Oh my,” Elaine said, eyes locked onto him. “You are most definitely correct, Ann. His eyes are delicious when he squirms.”

“Are they not?”

“I can see how one could become addicted to making them light up like that.”

“Indeed. It sends a tingling buzz through my body every time.” With a long, pleasant sigh, Antoinette also folded her legs, left arm still up so her body remained snug to Elaine’s side, while her right arm rested on her lap. “Jack, Blush for me.”

He Blushed, but kept his hands firmly locked onto the jacuzzi seat beneath him as he felt every drop of blood in his body rush into his dick. Damn painful, having a raging boner pressing against the inside of his swimming trunks, but he refused to give into wanton need. It was the game Antoinette wanted to play, to tease him until he was ready to explode. It was simultaneously fun, and torturous.

Elaine’s right hand slid down her bare, smooth leg, walked on fingertips to Antoinette’s leg, and started to stroke the inside of the Prince’s thigh. Antoinette unfolded her legs, giving Elaine more access, and Elaine didn’t hesitate to slide her roaming hand higher up Antoinette’s leg, all while never looking away from Jack. Antoinette didn’t either, eyes locked onto him, occasionally glancing down at his erection trapped in his swimsuit, and licked her lips.

Good god it was happening. What was that thing Damien said? Lord, or Longinus, give him strength? He’d need it, with the way these two evil women were looking at him.