Chapter 18

~~Julias~~

A taxi would not do, not for this.

Perhaps it was too ridiculous, too absurd, or just too over-the-top, but Julias took great delight in the magnificent limousine they were in. Other Kindred would arrive in their usual ways, but the Prince expected a certain level of presentation for her ball, and Julias got that. There was something beautifully innocent in the mindless indulgence of expensive vice, jewelry, and wearing someone on your arm.

Jack was in the limousine with him, and both of them were in tuxedos. His childe looked so cute in his suit. Like all young neonates, they wore more modern clothes, but the older Kindred such as himself were more partial to clothes that managed to capture the majesty and allure of the older age. Himself, his tuxedo carried hints of the early 1900’s with its open jacket, inner vest with a chain in the pocket, and tie. He was sure there would be even older, but even more compelling clothes combinations at the ball.

And to make the trip even more luxurious, the two of them were sipping blood.

“How does it feel to be visiting the Black Hall?” he said.

“Dude, Julias, I ... crap man, I had no idea the Prince owned the Black Hall.”

“I imagine she doesn’t talk about it much? The Prince has vast corporations under her thumb. Which ones, we’re not entirely sure. We know she owns some of the major old money corporations, which is natural, and her influence spreads as wide as Xnomina’s, just quietly and secretly.”

Jack frowned. “Secretly. She never told me about any of this.”

“Hey, don’t blame her. Centuries of habits die hard. Someone like Antoinette has built a base of money and power over many webs over many decades of careful manipulation. And she’s a Dragon. The Ordo Dracul are made of secrets.”

If only Jack knew. Julias chuckled, sipped more of their blood, and watched the city go by in the window. Xnomina was built on such secrets and manipulations, and that rabbit hole went deep, but neither he nor his peers knew what sort of secrets Antoinette built her empire on. It was one of the reasons she ruled the city; she was the better businessman.

He looked over at Jack. The kid was also looking out the window and drinking in the sights of the city. Black Hall was on the outside edge of the Elysium district, and while it only rose a few stories high, the building was massive. The building the Invictus held their balls and ceremonies within paled in comparison to it. Black Hall could hold thousands.

And when the limousine pulled up to the red carpet – an actual red carpet – there were guards in suits and unknown pedestrians who’d gathered to watch. They didn’t know what was going on, as Black Hall events were never announced to the public, but still they gathered. The guards weren’t Kindred, but Julias didn’t think they were ghouls either. Antoinette had her fingers in everything.

Once they were out on the carpet, he stopped to admire the sight. The carpet didn’t have any stanchions; the guards standing around it were enough to keep the random pedestrians from storming the carpet. And even without the guards, the look on the kine’s faces was clear: intrigued but intimidated.

They took pictures, and recorded with their smart phones, but the pictures would always come out just a little too blurry or at the wrong angle. Such was the way of the Kindred beast.

The building itself was made of massive columns of that black marble the Prince seemed to love so much. Subtle curving dragons of long body were carved into the pillars, and the pillars themselves were part of a overhang half-circle that the carpet was underneath. The walls of the building were a similar, weird mixture of ancient and modern architecture, with more of that black marble color and cracks of white throughout its surface, like lightning. The windows were as tall as the walls, which was at least thirty feet, but they only showed the dark curtains on the other side.

To a kine, the building must have seemed like some sort of dark, mysterious, but grand and majestic Taj Mahal. To the neonates showing up, it must have seemed like the Queen’s palace. They stood in awe, with their mouths hanging open and staring up at the grand entrance. It was the first ball the Prince had held openly for all covenants in years, and it was for all members and all ages; that meant a lot of neonates who’d never seen those massive doors, with black gates before them coiled with white dragons.

Jack too stood in awe, but maybe not as long as the other neonates. The kid regularly went deep into the Prince’s tower after all, and Julias assumed such architecture was common within its depths.

A ball, a big fancy party, for Kindred was always an interesting affair of sizing each other up and trying to predict each others motives, strengths, weaknesses, and vices. They didn’t mix or mingle like kine, but circled each other and faked social niceties. It was the Danse Macabre after all, and while he tired of the webs of deceit elders weaved, he had to admit he enjoyed the more innocent play of a gathering. He was good at it. Poker on a larger scale.

When the guards opened the massive gate, all eyes were on him and the small vampire at his side. He gave his childe a wink and just smiled at the crowd of Kindred before him. He was Julias Mire, youngest vampire of the Invictus council of Dolareido. They knew who he was, every last one of them, and that really stroked a Ventrue’s ego.

The crowd was already well over a hundred. He recognized many; Maria and Michael were already there; so were Natasha and Jessy, and even some high ranking Carthians were already there. The dress code was hard to pin down, as it was both a black tie event, but everyone brought their own mixture of their era. Maria and Michael were dressed in proud and obvious throwbacks to their time, which from the eighteenth century meant corsets, jackets, frills on dresses and jackets alike. The other Kindred, not so old, wore clothes more suited to the nineteenth century, such as vests and fancy dresses with exposed shoulders. The difference compared to the younger Kindred, such as Jessy, was that of modern tuxedos and sleek white dresses.

And then the fresh neonates dressed for sex, with the new, suit-like tuxedo, and the modern dress’s exposed thighs. He couldn’t blame them; they were young, and young Kindred usually found solace in their new ability to fuck with impunity.

The Prince wouldn’t be there yet; it would be a social faux pas for the host to arrive on time. But he was curious to see how the ancient Kindred would dress.

It had been years since he last stepped into the Black Hall. He’d forgotten how massive it was inside, as the gate opened into a large stairway that spread outward and down into a colossal room. There were no windows; instead, there were giant walls of white marble cracked with black lines, and the walls had ornamental arches carved into them. Always dragons. From the ceiling hung massive cages of black with the same dragon decoration as the front gate, but within the cages was white fire. Columns were spread throughout the ballroom every twenty feet, like a forest of kingly marble. At the other end of the room, a split stairway rose to reach a balcony that lined the upper wall of the massive room in a complete circle. The walls curved in to join the ceiling where, in the white and obsidian marble colors the Prince held so dear, there were two dragons painted coiling in each other.

It truly put the Invictus ballroom to shame.

He recognized another Carthian: Mike, the young neonate he’d bent to his will only months ago. He offered the young man, so clearly out of his element at the ball, a small nod of acknowledgment. Not an apology, but an offering of respect. It was better.

“Presenting Mister Julias Mire of the Invictus Triumvirate, and his childe Master Jack Terry of the Invictus, companion of the Prince.”

Julias looked over his shoulder at the marshal of the court, and raised a brow. A ghoul, the sheriff’s he believed, was standing beside the gate entrance from within. And someone had given him special instructions for Jack’s introduction. The Prince, evidently, was content to throw Jack into the deep end of the Danse Macabre.

And the kid froze. For just a moment, there was fear in his eyes, that petrified fear from a quiet, shy person suddenly asked to speak to a crowd of their peers. Everyone was looking at him. He looked at Julias, and Julias just looked back at him like nothing was wrong. Because nothing was wrong. Come on kid, you’ve got this.

Jack gave Julias a subtle nod, loosened his shoulders a little, and started walking again. Like nothing was wrong. Like he was the center of attention because he deserved it. Like he was a mother fucking Ventrue.

And then everyone went back to their work under the guise of social mingling.

“I’m going to talk with my peers. Try and enjoy yourself kid. The other neonates could learn a thing or two, and though I’m sure you’re loathe to admit it, vice versa.” He gave Jack a small salute, and turned to walk toward the stairway where Michael and Maria were gathered. Natasha and Jessy were nearby, sampling the different blood being catered by more of the Prince’s servants.

Julias had no idea who these servants were. They weren’t Kindred, but they didn’t seem like ghouls either. Were they all under her spell? Elder Daeva were terrifying, powerful creatures, when they wanted to be.

Maria was dressed up nicely, in something that looked more like a wedding dress that belonged on an English queen from over three-hundred years ago. It also included a veil – again something that belonged on a wedding dress – that she wore over her face to hide her Nosferatu features. “Mister Mire.”

“Madame Turio, I see you and Mister McDonald decided to show up after all.”

The ghost woman shrugged. “Madame Vola insisted it would be valuable. Apparently, Tony’s death has caused more of a power vacuum among the young than we had anticipated. And since the young are invited,” she motioned to the ballroom full of anxious, excited neonates, “I thought it best to observe.”

“I see Master Terry is taking a more hands-on approach.” McDonald nodded his head in the direction of Jack. The kid was talking with the other Invictus neonates. “Are you afraid he’ll mimic the few other Invictus neonates, and join the Lancea et Sanctum?”

Julias shook his head. “No. It would never happen.” If anything, one conversation with the religious covenant would drive Jack to murder. Logic and science were his world.

The conversation died there. Michael nodded and turned back to resume talking with Maria, and Julias headed over to his old comrades. “Madame Vola. Madame Herrington.”

“Mister Mire,” they said in unison. Natasha was dressed in a quiet dress, black and slim but with no features or exposed skin. Jessy, on the other hand, had taken to some nice, blue evening gown with an open back, and must have cut the thigh open to expose as much leg as possible. She was an attractive woman, sure, and her rather warrior-ish build reminded him of Beatrice, but she was taller, broader at the shoulders, and wore her blonde hair very short.

They were talking with a few younger Invictus, a pair of neonates only embraced within the decade. They bowed to him, but refused to make eye contact with anymore than his boots. For a moment, he considered trying to alleviate their concerns, but as always with the Ventrue, the sight of others adverting their gaze from respect, or fear, was intoxicating.

He would never take advantage of it, like Viktor would, but it was harmless to indulge in the presentation of the position, wasn’t it? Careful Julias, power corrupts and that goes double for a Ventrue.

“How goes? Are you—”

“Now presenting Mister Garry Tones, leader of the Carthians, and companion Beatrice of the Carthians,” the court marshal said.

Say what?

~~Beatrice~~

She thought she looked ridiculous, but her new witch mates had assured her she looked gorgeous. Jennifer, in particular, made a couple of efforts to get her naked only moments after helping her put on the dress. She had no idea that monster chicks like her had become a sexual fade in the new world, but apparently it was a thing.

And it really was a nice dress. Hanging out with Julias was rubbing off on her, and awakening some weird, fucked up desire to wear super luxurious and classy stuff. The dress Jennifer and Othello helped her pick out was a long, slim black thing with a skirt that went down to her toes. She refused to wear high heels though! But the dress did a nice job of hiding that she was wearing black, open-toe shoes instead. It exposed the claws of her toes, but it was subtle.

The dress also only covered half her torso. It was one of those weird, asymmetrical ones that was long sleeve on one half of her, and covered her shoulder as it cut down across her chest on an angle to leave the other side of her bare. And Jennifer had picked the most skin-revealing version, so the half of her torso exposed was exposed all the way down to the hip. The chest of the dress was so tight and formfitting, she could actually see her nipples poking against the fabric, and she thanked the devil she’d remembered to remove her many piercings.

And of course there was her face. The party was not so secret that kine couldn’t see Kindred, so it was better for Nosferatu to hide their disfigurements. Her claws and green snake eyes were not a problem, but the huge array of crocodile teeth along her cheeks required some intuition. Jennifer had proposed something pretty simple: an Arabian black face veil. It tied together behind her head, over her ear, and covered her nose, all the way down to her neck.

Jennifer said it really highlighted her eyes. Green snake eyes that, according to her witch mate, were extremely fuckable. And then the Ventrue had taken out her make-up kit and painted up Beatrice’s face with eyelash curlers and enough mascara and eyeliner that she looked like she’d walked off of an assembly line ready to give blowjobs.

And Julias was already there. Good. She looked over at Garry, and gave him a nod. He returned it, but with a weird look in his eyes. Sadness, maybe? Things were never the same between them, since she left the Carthians – still a secret – and she doubted she’d ever be able to mend that bridge. But the Circle of the Crone were her new home, for better or worse.

Focus on the party Beatrice, or ‘ball’ as the elders liked to call it. Bunch of peacocks showing off their feathers.

Well, she had some nice feathers too.

She walked down the stairs and looked around. Nothing but Carthians and Invictus, but that meant over a hundred faces. There were a dozen Nosferatu, and she did not envy any of them their disfigurements, but they all managed to hide it in some way. A lot wore gloves, many had their faces covered, or wore cocktail masks, and others just wore more layers.

Had it always been like this? Were Nosferatu accepted so easily among other Kindred? She really, really, really hoped she didn’t spend a couple decades hanging out in a catacomb just because she was too stupid to see it. Hanging out with kine was out of the question, sure, but that didn’t mean she had to isolate herself from Kindred too.

“Surprised you showed up.” Joe, an old Carthian fellow, walked up to join her as she stepped off the stairs. “I haven’t seen you around much.”

She smirked under her veil. There was a look in his eye she hadn’t seen on him before, not pointed at her anyway. That mix of intrigue and arousal that suddenly had her wanting to flirt and jerk him around.

But she wasn’t that bitch. “Hey Joe. Cya Joe.” A small nod, and she was off. Sorry Joe, but she was on a mission.

Alright, first encounter was a success. Blowjob mascara and sexy-but-classy dress were working. Some of the tattoos she had were exposed, but the coiling snake tattoo and the chainlink tattoo and the skull tattoo, none of them caught any eyes. In fact, when she looked around, many of the Carthians had various tattoos exposed by their dresses. The men and their tuxedos hid them better, but some still had art on their faces.

It really was a weird ball. Everyone was invited, and the only dress code was a vague somewhere-between black tie and formal. That meant interesting dresses, interesting tuxedos, and everyone bringing their own flavor. And the Black Hall! Fucking building was huge, and she felt like she’d walked into some colossal, ancient, mysterious ... Taj Mahal or something.

She looked back to Julias. Natasha and Jessy were standing next to him, and they were in some conversation with other neonates nearby. Whatever Julias had been doing with them though was paused, and he was looking at her she was someone else. As if someone new had taken her over. His mouth was hanging open.

She smirked, licked her massive teeth, and walked up right to the group of them. “Mister Mire,” she said, and did her damnedest to keep the chuckle out of her voice. She even gave him a small bow. “Madame Vola, Madame Herrington.”

“ ... Miss ... Beatrice,” they both said in Unison.

She did chuckle a little there. Her last name was Damor, and it wasn’t even a secret, but no one bothered to know it. That would change.

Julias looked mesmerized. “Beatrice. You came.”

Natasha, Jessy, the neonates, everyone’s jaws dropped when Julias stepped up to her, and reached out for her hand. They dropped even more when she took it.

“As you requested.”

“Ladies, paiges, if you’ll excuse me. My date has arrived.” He turned to the others, gave them a small nod, and walked off with her. The way he moved, held his shoulders, stood up straight, proud and dripping with confidence, it had everyone staring at both of them in surprise.

She hooked her arm with Julias, looked back at the onlookers, and winked. That’s right bitches. He was hers, all hers.

Julias took her up the stairway and up onto the balcony. There were few other Kindred up there yet, and it meant they could talk a little more privately she assumed, while still being on full display for everyone to stare at them with confused expressions. Glorious.

“Quite the entrance,” he said.

“Ch’yeah. Fully admit, that was fun. The look on everyone’s faces? Worth.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Politics right? Good for covenant relations to see an Invictus hanging with a Carthian.”

“Fuck the politics.” Julias stepped in closer, reached out, and eased his fingers up and down her arms. His gaze was glued on her eyes though. “I didn’t know you even owned make up.”

She fluttered her eyelashes at him in the most exaggerated, ridiculous way possible. “A friend helped me out.”

“Your friend really knows their stuff.” His hand on her sleeved arm reached up, and ran along her veiled cheek before nudging her dark hair aside so his fingers drifted along her ear. She shivered a little at the touch. “They really emphasized your amazing eyes.”

“Snake eyes.”

“Yeah. And you know I love those snake eyes.” He leaned down, and with his raised hand reached down just enough to get a finger under her veil and lift it. And then, with a grin in his eyes, he kissed her.

And when she thought it was just a sweet, innocent kiss, his other hand drifted down to the small of her back, and pulled her in. It was one of those long kisses. A kiss more than long enough for everyone to see, and for her to really get into it. With her veil up, people could see her shark teeth, but fuck them, Julias was a great kisser.

“You know ... you’re not an elder, you’re an ancilla.” Quick kiss. “First on the Invictus council of Dolareido ever.” Another quick kiss. “And now you’re kissing a Carthian, a young neonate, and a Nosferatu monster.” She counted off the weirdness on her claws in front of his eyes, but then gave him another kiss. “You’re really risking your position.”

“It’s a good thing I’m really, really good at what I do then.” He lowered her veil then, took a small step back, and just looked at her, up and down.

“ ... Mister Mire, your gaze is most unbecoming your station!” She tried to keep a straight face while faking her more uptight accent, but failed miserably. The veil hopefully hid it well enough.

“Sorry.” He leaned over the railing of the balcony, but kept his gaze on her. It was obvious he was drinking her with his gaze, and he didn’t hide how much he was looking at how the dress hugged tight to her hips and ass.

“You really want a piece of this already? I just got here.” She leaned out over the railing too, but made sure to stick her ass out a bit toward the wall behind them. “You’d think you just ate and had a full belly getting you riled up.”

He laughed. “Sorry, but the way you strutted in here? If I didn’t know better I’d think you were a Ventrue.”

“It’s the dress. It was sewn with the souls of a thousand dead children, I’m sure.” She looked down at the how the dress crossed her torso at an angle, shoulder to hip. “Is this why Ventrue always wear suits and gowns and shit? Cause just wearing it is really making me want to boss people around, like I’m some kind of queen.”

“Indeed.” He kept his elbows on the railing, but slid closer to her until they were touching hands. He hooked his pinky finger around hers, and she was glad the veil hid most of her face, cause holy shit everything he did was so hopelessly romantic and it always worked so damn well on her.

“You came with Garry.” Julias gestured out to the group of Kindred below them on the floor. “He hates these parties more than anyone.”

“Heh, he does kind of look like a bulldog someone’s forced to wear a tux.” The visual had her grinning madly behind her veil. “He needs a bone.”

“What’s the metaphor?”