Chapter 126

~~Jack~~

His trip to speak with Azamel had been successful, more or less. Azamel looked worse than ever, but he found her speaking with Sándor, and it seemed like they were coming to some sort of agreement. Not that Jack got to stick around long enough to find out more. Azamel promptly booted him out, saying her arrangements with Sándor were none of his business.

It was his business, kinda. It was his job to keep the different species getting along. But he left anyway, a bit thankful for her asshole attitude. He had his own problems to deal with, and they were stacking up.

First, get the curse under control, or gone. Second, find out what the fuck the tears were about. Third, find a way to help Mary. Fourth, rebuild his life in the Invictus.

“You really remember nothing?” he said.

Elaine, sitting at a heavy, dark table, tapped on her laptop a few times before looking at him. “I remember some things, young Ventrue. But you must understand. Torpor wears at our memories, and when Elders feel their blood lust grow too strong, we sleep for decades to calm the hunger. Decades of strange, vivid dreams.”

He sat down across from her, maybe four feet between them, and nodded. “I get that. But, this curse thing, it must have been a pretty big deal, right? It must have left an impression no amount of torpor could wipe.”

His great grandsire leaned back in her fancy office chair, and looked to the sheriff. Ever since Damien had returned Jack to the tower with a stake in his heart, everyone was put on red alert or something. Jack was never alone. No matter who he was with, someone had their eye on him, and that was usually Daniel. It sucked. It really sucked. Antoinette assured him that if she was with him and Elaine, in any capacity, Daniel would not need to be there; the two of them could handle the curse together.

Two elders keeping tabs on him at all times? Bleh.

“Digging up those memories is difficult, Jack. I have been hesitating to do so.”

“I noticed.”

She raised a brow at that. “You did?”

He shrugged and offered a small smile. “I’m your great grandchilde, what do you think?”

Sometimes, just sometimes, he could be a real cocky brat. He knew it, and now, so did Elaine. It made her laugh, and it proved a point: just because he had a habit of wearing his emotions and thoughts on his face, didn’t mean he was an idiot.

“If Julias sired you, then I must consider that you are smarter and more resilient than you appear.”

He grinned, victorious, and leaned back in his chair as well. Ventrue to Ventrue. Of course there’d be a little bit of combative tension between them, like between political figures, or anyone who liked to talk a big game.

“Yes, I have been avoiding this,” she continued, “because it is a terribly painful past, Jack.”

“More painful than having him speak inside you, tempting you? More painful than ... yeah, shit Antoinette’s probably told you about already.”

She winced and looked down at her laptop, but didn’t type anything. “Even now, it listens?”

“Yeap.”

“But it says nothing?”

“Yeap. I think he’d prefer—”

“You call it he. Why?”

His turn to wince. “Because it is, he. I didn’t think so at first, but after the last conversation I had with him, it became pretty clear. This isn’t like I’ve been possessed by some alien, or spirit. This is like ... something that’s grown out of me. The curse created him in me, or from me, or something.”

“Doctor Jekyll, Mister Hyde?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

She nodded, opened her mouth, but closed it after meeting his gaze. No need to say it. If that was the situation, then the curse had created this second personality out of the darkest, most fucked up desires he had. Not exactly a nice thing to learn, that he could have those kinda thoughts inside him. But, then again, becoming a vampire probably had something to do with those thoughts, too.

“I will tell you what I can remember,” she said, and glanced over her shoulder at Daniel. She didn’t want him to hear this, but considering the situation, it was unavoidable. “I remember hunger, and rage. I remember running through forests, with wolves at my side.”

“Hunting you?”

“Serving me.”

Ah. That made sense, and it was a pretty powerful image. Gangrels and Ventrue had an easy time controlling animals, and while Elaine was no Gangrel, that didn’t mean she couldn’t run through the woods with a pack of four-legged death machines at her beck and call.

“How long ago?”

“Hundreds of years, well before I sired Viktor. Before I met Antoinette.”

Before she met Antoinette. Well, she had met Antoinette a super long time ago, so of course her memories of pre-Antoinette would be hazy. Maybe she remembered some stuff about Antoinette when she was younger. Not exactly the right topic for the moment, but his curiosity jumped up and waved its arms at him.

“Do you remember much about meeting her?”

Elaine knew what he was getting at before he finished the sentence, and she chuckled as she leaned forward a little. “Hazy memories, without context, without words. But I remember some scents, some tastes, some emotions, and some images. Would you like to know what they were?”

“Yes, please.” And he damn well knew the look on his face said ‘tell me something sexy’.

“I remember the smell of skin, of kine, of wine. I remember the smell of stone; her castle, no doubt. I remember the sight of kine piled atop each other, bathing each other in bliss and sin. I remember the taste of one of her ghouls, a well fed and healthy male; rare for the time. I remember seeing your lover naked for the first time, and the shock of witnessing someone as tall and as well endowed as her. I remember thinking her unusual eyes and white hair were surely a sign she was one of Dracula’s brides.”

“Ever find any proof of that?”

“No. And she denies it, though I know her memories of such a time are dust.” She waited until he nodded, and continued. “I remember bits and pieces of the first time she and I touched each other. Even then, our relationship was purely one of friendship. She indulged in sexuality in such extreme ... abandon, that I was intrigued. I can remember my curiosity being piqued.”

And Jack’s, definitely. “I don’t understand how two friends can just ... well, I suppose I can.” Vampires being vampires. And, people being people. Not everyone attached romance with sex.

She grinned at him, and looked up as she dug through more memories. “I taught her much about being a commanding presence that will not yield to others. She taught me much about embracing pleasure.”

“Sounds like a good trade.”

Elaine leaned in, and grinned at him even more, a bit of that Ventrue edge in her eyes mixed with something playful, and very sexual. “Indeed. I remember the feel of thralls, bodies intermingled with our own. I remember the pleasure of having two men inside me, while your lover sat on the face of the man I sat upon. I drank the blood of our meals off her breasts. I held her in my arms, and massaged her body as a dozen kine took turns filling her sex with seed, one after another.”

“A dozen men? Sharing?”

“Indeed.” She giggled, a higher pitched sound than Antoinette would make, but still a mature sort of laugh that sent a happy jolt up Jack’s body. “A shame such memories are a blur. They mingle, and context is lost. But I remember once literally lying upon the bodies of her thralls and ghouls, as they carpeted the floor. Fingers, dozens, hundreds of wet, warm, hungry fingers entered me until I was taut. The shafts of men stood upright, being kissed by the lips of others, or by me, and their cum gushed up and onto my body, only to be kissed away by her entourage. Soon I sank into the skin and flesh of her thralls. They climbed over me, penetrated me, and I can remember the feel of the girths of half a dozen men trying to penetrate me as they covered me. They succeeded.”

He gulped. “Uh...”

Her grin widened. “Yes, at the same time. A night of such reckless abandon led to being stretched wide, to the point of absurdity. I climaxed again and again, soaking the flesh of Ann’s dozens of thralls, and as I did, she climbed onto me, and kissed my breasts and stomach. Soon, what her kine did to me, was done to her, and I kissed her breasts and stomach as the shafts of men and fingers of women filled her to bursting.”

He put up his hands and sat back. “Jesus. Ok, uh, I think I’m saturated on the kinky stories.”

“Oh? So soon?” She licked her lips as she watched him. “I have more.”

“Yeah. Starting to feel a little inadequate, hearing stories like that.”

More laughter. She shook her head and waved a hand aside, dismissing his words. “If physical stimulus was the only concern, young Ventrue, women everywhere would simply acquire several oversized vibrators, sit in a tub of lubricant, and spend every night filled to the brim with buzzing plastic.”

“Some do.”

“Yes, but do you deny that most women would rather the touch of another soul to give such pleasure?”

After a few seconds to consider it, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Antoinette’s told me about her past, the crazy orgies, and how she’s grown up, moved on, and is happier with the sexual dynamic we have. But to a young guy like me, I guess it’s hard to believe sometimes.”

“Believe it. In a few hundred more years, orgies may tire you as well. But the touch of a lover? Someone you genuinely care for? Ambrosia, and an aphrodisiac for all eternity.”

He grinned at that, and then frowned. “Kinda makes me feel guilty for, you know, all the orgies she’s been burying me in.”

“Do not feel guilty. Antoinette knows you are young, and it brings her endless joy to, as you said, bury you in novel pleasures.” Again, she grinned a devil’s grin. “And you are a man. I would be remiss if I did not admit men have a ... larger appetite for such lopsided indulgences.”

“Tell that to Natasha.”

Elaine laughed again, heartier than before, a laugh from the belly. “That small woman is such a delight, terribly cute, and cunning and intelligent. And to know the timid little creature has a grand hunger for large, animalistic men, multiple, is both hilariously cliché, and yet wondrously perfect. Have you seen the pornographic videos she has filmed?”

“Um, no?” Oh god what the fuck.

“Ah, perhaps I should not have said anything. But the little Mekhet has apparently been indulging in something of an erotic project? With her two deliciously ... massive boyfriends.” She leaned forward, really close, and spoke in a whisper. “Such a tiny thing. Have you ever seen a woman’s body struggle to hold the girths of men so much larger than her? You can actually see the shape of—”

“I’m not deaf,” the sheriff said.

Jack almost jumped out of his seat. Of course his great grandsire didn’t react at all, except to look to the corner where Daniel stood, and offer the man an inviting smile. Right, she was interested in him. A bunch of what she’d just said was probably embellished to make Daniel squirm; Mekhet generally did, when bombarded with TMI.

“Your childe,” Elaine said, voice louder and emphasized, “is growing up, Daniel. A part of that is learning how to enjoy our second lives.” As she looked at him, her smile faded, and an annoyed scowl replaced it. “A lesson you should learn.”

The man shrugged and looked to the side. He probably didn’t want to have the conversation, especially considering he was in some sort of relationship with Athalia.

“This talk reminds me,” she said, looking back to Jack, “about something Ann told me. Apparently Clara is interested in you?”

He winced. “I guess. I mean, I’ve made it pretty clear I’m with Antoinette, but she’s still ... yeah, interested.”

“And she has no desire to join you and Ann?” More grins. “I am sure you could satisfy five women.”

He didn’t even smile or chuckle at that. Not that it wasn’t kinda funny, just beyond absurd. “I’m one guy. And Clara isn’t really into the whole ... sharing thing.”

“Oh? I have heard she has spent the night with four rather scrumptious ghouls, at the same time, more than twice.”

He winced again, and then, because his imagination was a dumbass, he couldn’t help but picture what Elaine had described earlier, too many dicks trying to fit into too few holes, except with Clara and Jessy’s ghouls. And Clara was beautiful, gorgeous, and fit as fuck. God damn it.

“She was drunk. And I’m guessing Jessy teased her about shit before that, and, yeah. If I was her, drunk and feeling ... neglected, and four gorgeous women showed up at my door, I’d probably let them in, too.”

“And the times after that?”

“Yeah, probably then, too.”

Elaine pat the table a couple times, as if patting his head. “Your honesty is a delight.”

“Bites me in the ass a lot.”

“No doubt. But, let us move on. I can regale you with more tales of your lover’s overabundant sexual history later.”

He leaned back in his chair, nodded, and took a deep, useless breath. “Alright. I’ve been hoping we could start working on this earlier, but you’ve been kinda—”

“As I said, the memories are painful. But also, digging up what I could of my records has been difficult. I have contacted my thralls, and they have searched tirelessly through my old records. Ancient tombs and old journals of parchment must be handled with care.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t, I don’t know, keep meticulous detail of all that stuff.”

She raised a brow at him, and shook her head. “You do not understand. Hundreds of years ago, superstition ran wild. Humans, usually women, were frequently burned alive for suspicion of witchcraft. In an age where intelligence was either sought after, or actively destroyed, any vampire had to be wary of keeping records.”

That made sense. In the modern age, or hell, any time in the past two hundred years, record keeping was just a normal part of life. Before that, not so much. The further back you went, the stranger and rougher people were with information, and a woman keeping records about ‘curse’ and ‘blood’ and whatnot, was probably doing so at risk of her own life. No matter how strong a vampire was, they couldn’t stop a thousand humans armed with torches and flaming arrows.

“Yeah, you’re right. My bad. I just keep thinking you should have all this organized in digital journals.”

“I dare not record everything digitally. Some of my deepest, darkest thoughts lay within those books, written in English half a millennium old.”

“Even now?”

“Even now. My thralls will be taking digital pictures, and sending them to us across a secure network. But then we are to ... what is the word, ‘scrub’ the drives that see these images, as my thralls will with theirs.”

“Sheesh. Are all dragons that paranoid about their secrets?”

“Yes. The Invictus and Cathians are too stupid to manage such knowledge, and would destroy themselves with it. The Sanctified are not to be trusted, for they are sinister, and seek to rule all.”

Well, that was blunt. It made him smile. She really was a Ventrue, and his great grandsire.

“And the Circle?”

“The Circle are ... difficult to predict or understand. I would rather they did not have such knowledge, but they are the least troublesome of the four. They would at least understand the value in such ancient words, and many witches would either seal them away, or not use them for ill.”

“Many witches, but not all.”

After a heavy sigh, she closed the lid on the laptop, and looked at him with heavier eyes. “Yes. As you can imagine, I do not want Jacob to have such knowledge. He is ... far more deadly than your average warlock, and I do not trust his motives.”

“Neither do I, but the Prince seems to trust him.”

“That she does, to an extent. I have warned her against the man, but your lover is as old as I, and is a fount of wisdom and intelligence. If she trusts him, she has reason to.”

Considering Jacob seemed to have some sort of interest in his mom, he was happy to know Antoinette trusted him, sorta. Knowing Elaine didn’t, on the other hand, sent concern up through him like he jammed a fork in an outlet. If Jacob hurt his mother, the fucker was going to learn what the curse was really like.

“What can you tell me,” Elaine continued, “about when you freed the curse? Leave no detail unspoken.”

Time to dig up his painful memories then. Ugh. But it was only fair. “I remember ... flashes of history, things the curse had seen. I told you this before.”

“Tell me more.”

He frowned. Of course she realized that he could dig up the memories if he really tried, and she had no qualms about asking him to suffer for it.

“When Julias died, the world went white. It was the first time I actually got to see ... the Beast, I guess.”

“Few Kindred have ever managed such a feat. The Circle speak of it, but no other.”

“Ch’yeah, well, people are better off. It’s a big, ugly thing, all smoke and fangs and teeth, and beaks, and fur and shit. And mine was wrapped in chains. It took me on a trip down memory lane, showed me you, and Susanna, and Viktor and Julias, each time they did something ... vampire-y.”

“You saw me, with Susanna?”

“And some other woman.” He winced as he tried to dig up the memories. It was hard. Old, hazy things, buried under alien instincts, weren’t like trying to remember yesterday. He had to find them, and re-watch them in his own mind, over and over, and do his fucking hardest to not let his own imagination pollute them. Each time, it felt like he was rubbing himself against the Beast inside, tearing away the skin of humanity, like a big chunk of pork rubbing against a huge cheese grater.

“There was someone else there,” he said, “a Sanctified I guess. I had no idea who he was, and the curse was showing me the memories in reverse. But after some more jumps, he showed me that same man, casting some sort of ... spell, I guess, on Susanna. Full on ritual stuff.”

“The Lancea et Sanctum is known to use Theban Sorcery, from time to time,” she said, scowling as she did. “Tell me, what can you remember of the ritual?”

“Susanna was on her knees in a drawn circle, and the priest dude had some things on the floor around her. Uh ... crucifix with Jesus on it ... a spear ... necklace with a cross ... and some things I didn’t recognize. I think I saw a stone? Something black. And I think I saw a skull, maybe, of an animal.”

Elaine opened her laptop and typed away. “And the man?”

“A blur. Plus, hood. And ... and he was carrying a book. I thought it was a bible at first, then maybe that Testament of Longinus I know Damien reads.”

“Unlikely. Neither contain words of power.”

“You’ve read the Testament of Longinus?”

She grinned at him. “I’ve read the bible in various points throughout history, various versions. I have done the same with the Testament of Longinus, the Quran, the Torah, and others.”

“Damn.”

“Dragons hunger for knowledge, as you can imagine.”

He nodded, and laughed. “What about my mom?”

“What about her?”

“She’s a Daeva now, right? I can’t, for the life of me, imagine her being anything like Antoinette, all sexual and teasing. And now she’s a dragon, and I can’t imagine her getting hardcore into cataloging data or researching things either.”

“She is Daeva, but to call her a dragon is perhaps a bit premature. While she is a fledgling, she is Ann’s responsibility, and will be exposed to the most basic tenants of our covenant. But in Dolareido, she is not bound to her sire’s covenant, and may join another once she is no longer considered a fledgling.”

“Guess I never really considered joining another covenant. I get the Invictus. I understand them. It clicks.” Money. Territory. Power. Much as he didn’t approve of Michael’s methods, he couldn’t image dealing with another covenant’s approach.

She nodded. “I—oh, one of my thralls has found something of interest.” She clicked on her laptop a few times, eyes focused. “Jack, have you ever meditated before?”

“Meditation? Uh, no. Quieting the mind? Doubt I could ever do that.”

“Then, little Ventrue, you are in for a painful learning process.”

They ran into the obvious roadblock the moment he tried meditating: Jack never stopped thinking. Always thinking, always analyzing, like a typical Mekhet. If a Mekhet had sired him, it would have fit, though Jack didn’t really have a desire to learn every secret or anything. He just had one of those minds that liked to analyze, to practice hypothetical conversations, or to just voice his own hypotheses to see if they made sense. Most things made sense in the mind, but once you put them to words, it was a lot easier to spot flaws.

Or, he played music in his head. Usually it was metal music, but even when he was just getting up to cross a room, a random diddy might play. No matter what he did, his mind loathed inner silence, and refused to ever let it happen.

The key aspect of meditation, was silencing the mind. Apparently most learned by focusing on their breathing, using the focus as sort of a shield against intruding thoughts. And if you did have an intruding thought, you had to learn to let it go. Don’t latch onto it, don’t process it, just, release it.

Yeap, he sucked at meditation. It wasn’t his focusing that was a problem. He’d always had better focus than most. The problem was he was good at focusing on something like a manic psycho, obsessing over it, and pouring energy into it. Focusing on his breathing felt like focusing on watching paint dry, and his mind screamed to be let loose.

He sat on his butt, on a pillow, in one of the cells in Elysium. The door was locked, with Daniel and Elaine outside. Despite their utter silence, he could sense Elaine’s presence, and Daniel’s. They were distractions. On top of that, breathing was pointless, and doing it was a very manual process for a vampire.

They spent a few days trying different approaches. Jack put his life on hold, his duties, his Invictus job as a Right Hand, to try new things with Elaine. Michael understood. It needed to be done, and if they didn’t get this working, Jack would forever be a liability.

But Elaine had an idea, a scary idea, but an idea. And it fucking worked.

Jack stared into the flame of the candle, and focused on its shape. The curl of the flame; he dismissed the thought that tried to analyze why it was shaped that way. The difference in colors; he dismissed the thought that analyzed why there were a few different colors. The way it danced in the stale air; he dismissed analyzing the still air, and how a candle flame could dance in it. He kept his eyes on the burning aura, and let his mind grow quiet.

There was nothing else, just the flame. Only the fire existed. Vampire bane.

And there he was. The curse, a voice in his mind, but nothing more. A thought, to be dismissed.

Jack sighed slowly, and stared at the fire. A drum solo ran through his head, something from Lamb of God. He dismissed it.

The flame danced, and Jack watched the orange and amber, until they drowned his thoughts in their eternal canvas. Fire. Simple, alive, and it reduced anything Kindred to ash and dust in seconds.

He cast his thoughts into the flame, and let it devour them. All that was left was silence.

Words on the air, that drifted into the flame. Meaningless.

He smiled as he closed his eyes, and let his mind relax. The silence continued, like a small stream, and he could tell it separated himself from the curse. With time and effort, Jack could make that small stream into a raging river, and the curse would never be able to cross it.

He got up, and knocked on the door. Elaine stepped in.

“How did it go, great grandchilde?”

“I think we’re making progress. He tried to talk to me, but I managed to ignore him. Like, completely.” Just like the curse had ignored Jack in the Great Below, straight up ignored Jack to the point Jack might as well have not existed until the curse expended their vitae. How the tables had turned.

She sighed relief and touched his shoulder. “That is a step, then. It had helped me, but my circumstance was different than yours.”

“It’s a great first step. But, next time, let’s get rid of it completely.”

“That ... will be difficult. My thralls have found little in my archives, but there are some mentions of the Lancea et Sanctum.”

“Sounds like a place to start. I’ll see about talking to Damien and Maria.” He’d been avoiding Damien, but he had good reason. “And I need to talk with the hunters. Harcourt, ideally.”

“How about your mother?” a third voice said.

Elaine and Jack looked down the hallway, and Jack winced as he realized it was his mother talking. Shit, another person he’d been avoiding, and probably shouldn’t have been.

The two of them entered her bedroom, and he spent a little time looking around at the walls where she’d hung up curtains, and the hilariously grand and massive vanity table. The mirror, wide and tall, showed off the various things she had scattered on the desk, and he stood in front of it as he looked down at them.

A picture of his dad, James, with his mother when they were young, back in the nineties. A picture of Mary and Jack when they were kids. A picture of Jack, not long before he died. A picture of his mom with Mary, something they took after Jack died, when she was finally moving on with her life.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

He winced. “Yeah.” Christ, the guilt hit him double hard, and he picked up Mary’s picture. His mom had finally managed to put her life together, then lost her daughter and her life in a single night, and now the only thing she had left, him, was avoiding her. Fuck. Fuuuuck. “I’m ... sorry, about that.” She really shouldn’t have gotten these pictures, but she did. Antoinette probably didn’t approve.

“I thought you were just being a boy, a man, doing what all young men do, and growing up.”

“I mean, yeah, but no. We’re vampires now. That old family approach to things doesn’t really apply anymore.” He set Mary’s picture down, and joined his mom on the edge of the bed. She was in a suit, just like him, though Antoinette liked her suits with a little more artistic flair than Invictus.

“Then why’re you avoiding me?”

“Because it wouldn’t be fair.”

She blinked at him. “What? Fair to you? I don’t—”

“Fair to you.”

“I’m ... not sure what you mean.”

Sighing, he gestured to himself as he turned on the bed, one leg pulled up onto the blankets so he could face her. “Mom, you’re a fledgling. Your job right now is to learn how to manage being a vampire. The only things on your mind should be”—he counted off on his fingers—”learning how to hunt, how to avoid the sun, how to keep your head low, and how to maintain the Masquerade.”

“Well they’re not. I’m concerned about my son.” She turned to face him as well, and she glared at him. It was her Mom glare. A powerful glare, but Jack had gotten used to facing it down, after his dad died.

“You know about the curse.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not my son anymore.”

“Mom, come on, I need you to stop jumping on that reflex, and listen to me.”

“I don’t—”

He swiped his arm across the air, hard enough to make the bed shake slightly. “Listen. To. Me!”

She recoiled a little, eyes wide, and he ground his teeth as he looked down. Hard to tell if that burst of anger was the curse, or just him, frustrated that his mom fell into old habits so easily.

“Jack...”

“That old family life is gone. You’re my mom, but you’re a vampire first. Hell, you’re the Prince’s childe before you’re my mom. No one, and I mean no one, not one single vampire in this whole city, is going to think of you as my mom first. You’re Antoinette’s childe first, and they’ll interact with you based on that. And me, I’m Jack, the guy who survived Lucas, the guy who survived the azlu, twice, the guy who beat the hunters. The cursed guy, who’s dangerous.”

She looked down, obviously wanting to say something, but knowing full well he’d interrupt her if she did. It wasn’t the listening he wanted her to do, but it was better than a meaningless argument.

“This week, I went to another realm, Mom. Like, literally, another realm of existence, full of ghosts.”