Chapter 148

~~Jack~~

After ten seconds, or an eternity, Clara pulled away. She blinked at him a few times, surprised. Well, he was damn surprised too, half by the kiss, half by how he didn’t push her away. And surprised again, but how much he liked it. Antoinette’s kisses were perfect, every single time. Clara’s were not. They were shaky and a little rough, and ... and he really liked that.

“Surprised you let me do that,” Clara said, smiling. Not a big, happy smile. A sad smile. She knew what he was going to say.

“I am too. I ... shouldn’t have.”

“Shouldn’t have? Jack, you’re dating an ancient vampire who probably doesn’t even know what romance feels like. I’m trying to get through to you that you don’t need to be with such a cold bitch.”

“That’s not fair. She ... she knows she’s different than me, knows her age has made her ... jaded. It’s not something she just accepts, and turns me into some sort of fly in her web, Clara. She tries. She really tries to dig up those parts of her, the young parts that got buried in centuries of vampire bullshit.”

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, Jack. She’s a deadly, ancient vampire, and she sees everyone and everything around her as a tool for her goals.”

“I...” Fuck, it was hard to refute that point, after his argument with Antoinette earlier. But, a memory surfaced, and tugged at him, tugged until it hurt. “One time, when something bad happened to me, and it was partly her fault, she was ... she almost panicked with concern for me. Like, I was standing there in front of her, having nearly just died, almost chopped in half head to crotch, and when she realized I’d gotten dragged into something she caused, she was terrified.” The memory of waking up in her tower after Viktor had nearly killed him was a night he wouldn’t forget. Especially cause he had sex with her for the first time not long after.

“Terrified?”

“Kinda, yeah. We hadn’t been dating long, but I could tell her conversations with me were something she hadn’t had with another person in ages. She was really, genuinely panicked that she might lose that.”

“Not really sure what you’re driving at.”

“I ... I’m just saying that Antoinette knows she’s lost a lot of what makes her human in her age, and I help her find those lost parts. And I don’t mind doing that. Hell, I like doing that. I like helping her find those pieces.” Jack loved to fix things. And each time, it felt great. It felt great because he loved her, and he wanted to help her. “It’s not fair to say she’s a cold, ruthless bitch. I mean she is, but that’s not all there is to her.”

“And you’re really comfortable being her emotion dowser? Christ Jack, she’s telling you to let your mom bite the bullet.”

“That’s not ... that’s twisting the truth.”

“Is it? If shit hits the fan, your mom’s on the front lines. And the Prince, your girlfriend, told you to just accept that. She even let you argue?”

“I got to say ... stuff.” It’d been a short argument, with Antoinette in her ‘mastermind puppeteer’ mode. Or maybe ‘cold, ruthless queen’ was the better descriptor.

“Jack, listen to me. Antoinette is half a millennium old, and if you think she’s cold now, it’s only going to get worse. I won’t.”

He looked away. “No, but you’ll die eventually.” She wasn’t a vampire.

“I got another hundred years left in me, Jack. And you know what I want to do with it? Spend it with a stupid kid who keeps thinking he can fix everything. Cause he’s got a great heart.” She pushed his closer shoulder into the back of the couch, forcing him to twist and face her. “And cause despite being a pipsqueak, he’s fucking ripped.”

He managed a smile at that, but he didn’t meet her eyes, not now. He didn’t want the temptation.

“Thanks.”

“And I’m not some ancient bitch vampire. I’m here on a fucking whim, not planning some plot or manipulating people.”

“Manipulating me a little bit, don’t you think?”

Frowning, she got up, pushed both his shoulders into the couch, and straddled him. He gulped as he blinked up at her, body freezing more than it did when she kissed him. Uh oh.

“Jack, listen to me, you god damn idiot. Antoinette is what, your first girlfriend?”

“N ... Not technically.” He kinda had a girlfriend before, sorta, temp prom date thing that died quickly.

She rolled her eyes, seeing through his bullshit instantly. “You’re like the naive girl who married her high school sweetheart, and never experiences anything else, never realizes there are other types of dudes out there who don’t suck.”

“I’m straight.”

“You know what I mean. Look at Damien! Dude’s dating a chick who can’t go five seconds without bursting at the seams with joy. You ever think you might be happier with someone like that?”

“Like Fiona? Not really. Pretty sure I’d go insane if I was around her too much.”

Sighing, she leaned in until they were almost kissing again, and with the couch behind him he couldn’t pull away.

“And me? You really want to spend however many decades with a cold bitch like Antoinette, when I’m right here? I’m warm, Jack. I’m warm, and I do everything by the seat of my pants. And I wouldn’t look to you to be some missing half of me that I desperately needed, for fuck’s sake. I look after me, for you. You look after you, for me. A healthy, normal, functioning relationship.”

She was definitely warm. So close, he could feel her breath on his body, and her warmth pushing through his clothes into his skin. He was lukewarm, and compared to him, she was a furnace. God, it’d be so easy to reach out, hug her, kiss her, touch her.

“And Brace? What about him?”

“Brace is great. Dumb, but nice as hell, and with a great body. Prime himbo material.” Apparently Clara wasn’t completely ignorant of memes. “And tall. Shit load taller than you.”

“Hey, low blow.”

She grinned at him. “But I’ve gone on two dinner dates with the dude, nothing more.”

“He seems like the three dates kinda guy. Maybe five.”

“Maybe.”

“And ... and you’re going to have that third or fifth date?”

“That depends on you. I’m not going to string Brace along, but ... I’m not gonna just sit here and say I don’t have feelings for you, Jack.”

“Christ, what do you want me to say, Clara? Yes, I like you. I like you a lot. I went to you for help with the hunters for a reason.”

“I should have asked for a better favor in return.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Like what?”

“Obviously to have sex with me.”

“Um—”

“I’m kidding, Jack. But I would have asked for ... for something more personal, I guess, than being let it on a secret. Maybe a date.”

“You really want to piss the Prince off that badly, don’t you?” He peeked past her to the door, half expecting Antoinette to walk in. Nope, thank god. He didn’t need anymore soap opera drama. If Antoinette found Clara sitting on his lap like this, it could easily end in blood.

“I don’t give a shit about her, except that I think she’s got you wrapped around her finger. Even if she’s sincere, it’s still fucked up that you’re doing so much for her, and she’s just leeching off you.” Clara leaned closer, enough their noses touched. “I wouldn’t.”

Something had clearly happened to make Clara a little — lot — more aggressive about her desires. And Jack was floored. A lot of what she said he kinda agreed with, and it was making it very hard to not take her up on it.

That’s what adults did, right? If they thought there was something wrong with their relationship, they evaluated. Fixable and worth it? Stay in relationship. Not fixable? Abandon. Abandoning a relationship was tough when it meant you were going to be alone, but Clara was right here, and very much willing to replace Antoinette. It was such a horrible way to look at it, but it was very true.

It was so easy to look at shit logically from the outside. But when looking at things from the inside, when buried in all the drama and emotion, everything got real blurry real quick. It’d be so easy to say yes, to dump Antoinette and her cruel bullshit. Clara was fun and ... and normal, emotionally, intellectually, in a good way. He wouldn’t have to navigate Antoinette’s maze of a personality with Clara.

And his Beast fucking loved the idea of holding Clara, hugging and squeezing her tight, cumming inside her and Kissing her, and drinking deep of that prized werewolf blood. Just one word, right now, and she’d strip for him and straddle him again, let him penetrate her, and they could fuck the rest of the night away.

But the moment the thoughts ran through his mind, he did what he always did: considered both sides of the argument. His true curse, he supposed, a need to understand things in a logical way, the way Antoinette would. It stopped him — usually — from making bad decisions. He just never thought it’d happen in a romantic context.

The moment he thought about leaving Antoinette and spending the next ten, twenty, fifty years with Clara, thoughts of Antoinette ran through his mind. And hit him in the guts like a fucking semi.

He wanted to wake up next to Antoinette. He wanted to talk with her, about all the things they talked about, things other people wouldn’t find interesting but she did. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, have sex with her, and spend the next hundred or five hundred years with her. He wanted to work with her to get through shit like they were experiencing now, not just abandon it because an easier option came along.

And amazing as Clara was, the only thing that was making him even consider taking her up on her offer right now, was that she was easier than Antoinette. That’s all this was, a moment of weakness, because an easier option came along to tempt him.

He slowly took Clara’s wrists, and pulled her hands off his shoulders. “Maybe she does have me around her finger. Maybe I have her finger in my grip. It’s ... it’s not fair to say that just because our relationship is different, it’s bad.”

“It sounds like a toxic relationship to me.”

“It’s not toxic, far from it. There are problems, like this shit that’s happening now with Mom. But I’m not going to dump Antoinette because of problems, not ones that can be fixed.”

Groaning, Clara got off him and collapsed back on the other couch. “Christ, you really do think you can fix everything.”

“Not true! I think she and I can fix things.”

“You really think a super ancient vampire is going to change for you? You sound like a stupid young girl, reading some shitty Twilight fanfic.”

He couldn’t help but laugh about that. “Maybe. It’s ... it’s not the same.”

“Jesus you are loyal, so loyal it fucking hurts.”

“Sorry. Can’t go against my programming.”

Her turn to laugh, and she leaned forward in her seat again as she shook her head. “Well, can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“No, I can’t.” He leaned forward, matching her as his eyes drifted toward her before looking back down. Couldn’t maintain eye contact, not after this. “I ... I would, you know? If I hadn’t met Antoinette, I would.”

“Thanks.”

“And Brace, he’ll—”

“Brace is nice! Too nice. Truth is we’ve been on more than a couple dates, and he’s very ... afraid to get aggressive.”

Ooooh. Brace was a nice guy, but too nice. Jack wasn’t some kind of girl expert, but Antoinette was, and talked to Jack about social dynamics constantly. The solution to this problem was simple. Brace needed to learn that nice and passive weren’t the same thing. Yeah, be nice to the girl, but when it came to sexual chemistry, be aggressive. Kiss her when she’s not expecting it. Take her wrist and hold her. Pin her against a wall and kiss her deep.

Dude probably just didn’t realize how much women hated being idolized and held up on altars.

“You are a werewolf. Maybe he’s afraid to get all masculine on you, cause he’s pretty sure you could kick his ass?”

“Only when transformed. Right now I am just girl, a hard to kill girl, but a girl, who is much smaller than Brace and would like to know what it’s like to have a guy sweep her off her feet.”

“And you expected me to do that?”

She laughed, louder this time. “You were different.”

They both laughed, and slowly let the laughter die. After a while, they looked at each other, both sighing, and Clara took the cue. She got up, and opened his front door.

“Don’t ... don’t tell Brace about this, ok?” she asked. “Just a moment of weakness, right?”

He smiled. “Too right.”

She left. He collapsed back against his couch, slapped both hands against his face, left them there, and groaned.

Later that night, he decided to pay a trip to see the monsters. Anything so he could keep his mind off Antoinette, how pissed he was at her, and Clara, and how fucking easy it would have been to just say ‘yes’ and begin a relationship with a normal functioning woman. Was he against normal? Did he dislike normal? Did he love Antoinette because she was so strange, and hard to navigate?

And calling Clara normal was kind of an insult. She wasn’t normal, just, normal by comparison to people like Antoinette and Jacob.

And she was hot! So damn hot. He’d seen her breasts, a fucking long time ago but he had, and the image was seared into his brain. When she’d been straddling him tonight, if he’d reached out and touched them, she would have fucked him right there. And if he’d pulled her down to him, he could have Kissed her, drained her, left her an exhausted mess of arousal, and fucked her until—

Jack groaned and smacked the side of his head. Which of course made the hunter beside him raise a brow and look at him. He brought Brace with him, down deep into the tunnels of Dolareido, because Jack was a masochist.

“Still don’t think this is a good idea,” the hunter said.

“Damien and Jessy are busy dealing with Carthians. I need back up.”

“Uh...” The hunter scratched the back of his neck. “You know I’m only human, right?”

“Yeap.”

“I won’t be of much use to you.”

“You’re a hunter. You’ll be fine. I don’t expect anything bad to happen, I just need someone with a gun and a set of eyes.” Which could have been anyone besides Brace, but Jack didn’t trust anyone in the Invictus at the moment.

Braced eyed him, eyebrow raised. “I still—”

“And I wanted to talk to you.”

“Aaaaah, ok now it makes sense. Kinda. Whatcha wanna talk about?” Even as he asked, the hunter put another step between him and Jack.

“Dennis and Marge seeing more of the city?”

“Yeah. Told your mom about that, actually.”

“You talked to Mom?”

“Yeap. She and the Circle — Jennifer and Beatrice anyway — dropped by when I was on a date with Clara.”

“And you ... had a conversation with them?”

“Well yeah.”

Jesus christ this guy. Why would Clara like this guy, romantically? Then again, why was she into Jack? No accounting for taste.

“You were on a date with Clara. Insanely hot, single Clara. And when a few other vamps showed up, you...” He slowly looked at Brace, complete with slow dramatic heard turn for effect.

“I ... pulled up some chairs for them.”

Jack facepalmed. “Dude.”

“What? What, I was just being nice.”

A small part of Jack very much wanted to just let this guy fuck himself over. If he was too clueless on how to be romantic in a way that actually worked, let him suffer.

It was the same part of him that wanted to grab Brace and have a drink. The same part of him that liked the idea of binding Clara with the Vinculum and adding her to his inevitable harem. A werewolf, his slave, sex slave, companion, and bodyguard? The fun he’d have with her, and the things Antoinette would do to her, the kinda sex you can only have when you hate someone. Hate sex.

Jack clenched his eyes and shook his head. Shut up, Beast. He was hungry, and it was fucking with him. Maybe bringing Harcourt was a bad idea?

No, he needed to talk to the dude. Jack owed Clara, and if he could fix this, he should. He couldn’t fix much lately, but maybe he could at least fix this.

“How the fuck are you so nice, dude?”

Brace shrugged as he looked ahead down the tunnel and its flickering lights. “It’s a long, stupid, sad story involving my sister. Life is hard for hunters. Every hunter I’ve run into has been ... well a lot more of them are like Angela than you might think. I swore I wouldn’t be like them.”

There was depth to Brace Harcourt, much as he didn’t give off that vibe. Goofball, sure, but not a complete moron. There were thoughts in that skull of his, and when shit hit the fan, those thoughts were actually damn useful. He kinda reminded Jack of Fiona, someone with a past and lifestyle that should have crushed their personality until they were bitter assholes. But somehow, they survived. Like they were more naturally buoyant than other people.

He envied them.

“And speaking of the other hunters.” Jack took a moment to wipe the rising malice from his voice. It was hard to say her name. “Athalia might want to know about Angela. She talk to you yet?”

“Nope. Ain’t nobody been talking to us from that side of the fence.”

“You know much about Angela? Personal stuff?”

“Uh, not that much, no. She was close with Jeremiah, father daughter kinda relationship ... between psychopaths.”

“You know Athalia was her mother?”

“Know that, yeah.”

“You know they had a super rough history? Athalia was a Begotten when Angela was just a kid. I don’t know all the details, just...” He sighed and shook his head. “Athalia feels so damn guilty about what happened to her daughter. Completely destroyed relationship, plus she did some nasty monstery things to her daughter when she was growing up. She didn’t want to, but yeah.”

Brace whistled. “I mean, I knew Angela wanted to kill her, but ... I guess the group and I put it together that Athalia must have done something to her. Didn’t think that, though.”

“So if Athalia asks you about Angela, try and answer if you can. And don’t sugarcoat it ... much.” Athalia definitely preferred things blunt, but even she wouldn’t want to hear the absolute worst things about Angela, especially not after what happened.

“Alright, I’ll try.”

“And back on topic. Clara the first girl you’ve ever dated?”

“What? No ... There’s been other girls. Sorta.” Sorta sounded a lot like fling.

“Uh huh. And the other girls, were all short flings brought on by dramatic hunter situations? Save the girl from the scary monster. Sometimes the girl’s grateful?”

“Well ... I mean...” Poor guy adjusted his trench coat and groaned. “So there was this one girl. Her parents died in an accident with a vampire. I helped her out for a few months.”

“Slept with her?”

“Uh, yeah.” Judging from the look on his face, she probably threw herself at him.

“And then you left, determined to continue your hunter job?”

“ ... yeah.”

“And...”

“And there was this other girl, a rookie hunter. We bonded a bit on a monster hunt.” He didn’t need to explain what bonded meant. “We went our separate ways when the hunt was over.”

“And...”

“And there was this other girl, another hunter. We ended up being rivals, kinda, in a ghost hunt. Somehow we got together, until, you know, the ghost was dealt with.”

Jack didn’t need to ask about this girl either. No doubt the woman got aggressive and made the first move.

“So Clara is the first girl who’s not traumatized or all ... hunter-brained,” Jack pointed at his temple, “you’ve ever dated.”

“Put it like that, I mean ... yeah.”

“Ok, that means social norms apply. If you’re on a date, you focus on the girl, and other people should be told — politely — to go away. If she’s giving signals, you reciprocate by getting closer. If she continues to give signals, you make a move, even if it’s just touching her hand.” He was quoting Julias at this point. It sounded so easy to understand social cues when saying them, but knowing them in the moment was a whole different beast. “So next time you’re with Clara, pay attention, and do something romantic, would you?”

Brace raised his eyebrow again as he looked Jack in the eye. “Why’re you so concerned with Clara?”

“I owe her a lot. She was with us when we went after Jeremiah, remember?”

“Yeah but—”

“And anyone with half a braincell can see you ruining a good thing from a mile away. So hey, you did me a solid, and so did Clara. Now I’m gonna do the both of you a solid. Stop dragging your feet and be more aggressive with the girl.” Jack rolled his eyes, shrugged and kept walking. The cold shoulder was mean, but necessary to convince Brace he was being straight with him.

Jack also felt guilty. Clara was willing to abandon her potential relationship with Harcourt, for him. That was a strange, strange feeling, and Jack hated it. He also hated how it kept teasing some baser desire in him, the Beast in him, or his lizard brain, wanting more women to drink and fuck.

God, he hated all this soap opera drama.

“You like to give advice, don’t you?”

“Eh?”

“You got that kinda know-it-all personality.” Harcourt grinned at him. “But I mean, with everything that’s happened and you coming out on top every time, it’d probably pay to listen to you.”

Jack returned his smile. The guy really was way too nice and well adjusted to be a hunter.

“Full house?” Jack asked.

Azamel coughed from her bed. Sándor stood nearby, watching like a gargoyle on its perch, off to the side and not on the stage. Athalia frowned down at Jack. Fiona waved. Mark didn’t so much as move his head. Other than the gargoyle, they were all sitting on the stage of concrete, Azamel with her blanket up to her waist, head and back propped up by some pillows, and a cigarette in hand.

She looked emaciated. He’d seen corpses in better condition than her.

“It won’t be long now,” Azamel said, coughing between puffs of smoke. Eventually she motioned to her fellow monsters with the trembling cigarette. “They’re here to bother the fuck out of me in my last days. So are you, apparently.”

Bother the fuck out of me. Not exactly how Azamel normally talked; close, but not quite. Sure she had a nasty mouth, but she normally talked with a bit of nobleness to her, like she was a queen born and raised in royalty a hundred years ago. A queen who hated being a queen, and hated everyone who insisted she be one. Natural potty mouth, sure, but not a casual speaker.

It hurt to hear her talk like that.

“Not here to talk to you at all, old bitch,” Jack said.

Everyone raised brows and looked at him, except Azamel and Mark. Mark smirked before disappearing into a book again, and Azamel laughed.

“The fuck do you want, then?”

“Wanted to talk to Athalia. I heard she might have seen something the night Garry’s little crew attacked the Xnomina HQ.”

Athalia groaned as she walked over to the edge of the concrete stage. “I see a lot of things. But you told us to stay out of this little turf war.”

“It’s only kinda related.”

“Kinda?”

“Ok mostly related. I want to know if you know what happened to Amanda.”

Again she groaned, hopped down from the stage, and landed in front of him. Her hard eyes always scared him, even now with the curse to protect him. A black woman, with long black hair and a tall, slim build, and utterly gorgeous. It wasn’t surprising the sheriff was attracted to her, but Jack couldn’t begin to imagine how the man was able to puncture her hard exterior.

“From what I’ve heard, Amanda’s death is a big deal,” she said. “Sorta Michael’s main point for why he’s given you vamps permission to use lethal force.”

Lethal force. Jack couldn’t help but smirk at the word choice. Vampires fighting vampires wasn’t some sort of organized affair run by a branch of the military or secret service. It was a dirty affair, chaotic, and personal.

“I don’t think she’s dead.”

Athalia’s face remained stone. “Oh?”

“I think Michael’s staked her and stashed her.” He looked to the others as well for a reaction. Fiona’s eyes went wide with surprise; she didn’t know. Sándor kept his face looking straight ahead, not directly at Jack, and his expression was made of stone. Not hard, mean stone like Athalia used, but the almost boring, indifferent stone a sculpture has.

Mark wasn’t any better. He sneered. Whether that meant he knew something Jack didn’t, or he was just delighting in Jack’s ignorance, Jack didn’t know. The dude was never happy since the Prince caught him spying.

Azamel, on the other hand, grinned at him. And no chance in Hell she grinned at him without meaning to, knowing full well he’d notice and jump to a conclusion from it.

Athalia smirked. “And what if he did?”

“I need confirmation. I’m going to do something stupid, super stupid, and I’d really prefer to know for sure if Amanda’s alive before I piss Michael off.”

“Aren’t you busy? Azamel’s convinced those tears are leading up to something nasty, and you’re running around dealing with some stupid vamps and a turf war?”

“I’d love to be done with this turf war! That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Then just kill Garry and his top vamps. Or kill Michael and take over. Whatever.”

Jack glared at her. What was it about him she didn’t fucking understand? “I don’t want to kill anyone, Athalia.”

“Your curse—”

“I don’t want to kill anyone! I am not the curse! I’m me, Jack, just a young guy who thinks we could all get along if we pulled our heads out of asses and worked together.” He’d been mostly hands off with Athalia since her daughter died, but if the conversation with Maria taught him anything, it was tough love worked; on adults anyway. “Think what you want, it fucking kills me that I’ve killed so many people. Fucking kills me. Nightmares, all the fucking time.”

“Not one of mine, much as I’d love to say otherwise.”

He hadn’t even considered that maybe one of the Begotten had managed to find a way to torture him with nightmares. Yeesh.

“Ok, well, I’m not a killer, and you fucking know it. Stop being a bitch, and be straight with me. I’m on your team.”

Athalia returned his glare before looking to Azamel, only to frown when her boss smiled and nodded.

“You know if I start talking about what I saw, I’m getting involved?”

“And I’ll do everything in my power, and the curse’s power, to make sure no repercussions come the Begotten’s way. If I have to kill Michael and anyone else to keep you guys out of this, I will. I’m not here to ask for information to win this war, I’m asking for information so I can end it. No one wins.”

Sighing, she stepped back and turned, and set her butt against the stage edge as she folded her arms across her chest. “And what about him?”

“Harcourt?” Jack shrugged as he looked up at the guy.

Harcourt put up his hands like he was about to be shot by a firing squad. “Just giving Jack some back up.”

“You trust Jack?”

The hunter shrugged. “I mean, yeah? Dude seems cool. I’ve seen a lot of shit in my life you know, and ... and Jack’s the nicest vamp I’ve ever dealt with. Ever.”

Rolling her eyes, Athalia shrugged. “Fine. Amanda’s alive.”

Finally.

“Thanks. Did you see what happened exactly?”

“From a distance. I was dropping Sándor off, and the building was on fire. But I saw Michael and her talking. And then he staked her.”

“What I thought then?”

“I guess. Except the girl didn’t react to the stake, except to just stand there like she was ready for it.”

“Like ... she was ready for it?” Jack winced and paced in place. “Ah shit. Shit shit shit. I thought Michael sprung it on her. Never even fucking occurred to me he convinced her.”

“What’s that matter?” Athalia asked.

“Means if I go on a rescue mission, I’m rescuing someone that probably doesn’t wanna be rescued.” That made everything so much more fucking complicated. God fucking damn it, why couldn’t things just go smooth?

“I expect you to keep your word, Jack,” Athalia said. “Putting a lot on the line here.”

“He will,” Azamel said. Everyone looked to her as she erupted into a coughing fit, and she wiped her lips off with her scrawny, cracked fingers, before grinning at Jack again. “So, Michael has conspired with Amanda to trigger his war.”

“I don’t know about conspire,” Jack said. “Might be blackmailing her or something.”

Azamel groaned, coughed again, and forced herself to sit up. Mark got up, but Azamel waved him off, and the man sat back down.

“This is concerning.”

“What?” Jack said. “Now it’s concerning you?”

“Yes, now, idiot boy. Before when Michael and Garry fought, it was typical vampire nonsense. But after Athalia told me what she saw, I’m feeling this battle is too personal.”

“And ... that’s a problem for you.”

“Yes, it is. The Invictus and Carthians fight each other in most cities, but usually for the typical reasons.” She took another drag of her cigarette, and blew the smoke at him. Even up on her stage, twenty feet away, she still managed to reach him with the smoke. “Michael and Garry are letting personal history affect their actions. Volatile. This city has enough problems dealing with the tears, and likely Black Blood itself, a far greater problem than this stupid war. And I will not leave my family to contend with this idiocy when I am gone.”