Chapter 31

~~Jack~~

The meeting with the Invictus triumvirate went better than he expected. He told Julias first, about the werewolves, and then Julias insisted he tell the triumvirate as a whole; the problem was bigger than just him. So Jack scheduled a meeting to stand before the council, and like filing a report, detailed the issue with the werewolves.

Conveniently, he told no one he felt the werewolves might have been hunting Fiona. It’d have been an assumption, not enough evidence. And Fiona stuck around for a while when she visited that night; she was fun, and nice. Why would the wolves be hunting her?

Did Natasha tell the Prince though, that was the question. He wanted to leave Fiona out of it, and he didn’t put it above the Invictus to throw Fiona to the wolves — literally — to keep the Uratha out of Dolareido. And he kind of liked her. He hoped Antoinette would like her too, or she was well within her right to do more than throw Fiona to the Uratha, she could just kill her herself.

He did tell the triumvirate that he wanted to introduce a newcomer to Dolareido though, a Begotten. It’d earned some groans from the three of them. Apparently they knew about such monsters, and none of them seemed excited at having one of them in the city. But none of them seemed overly concerned either, so that was good. He also left out the part that Damien and Fiona were friends of a sort. Didn’t need to make that man’s journey any harder.

A meeting with the Primogen though, he had no idea how that was going to go. Never done it, never wanted to do it. It was going to be his first meeting with the strongest Kindred of the city and he was already trying to figure out ways to cut corners on information for his own gain, for his friends’ gain. One misstep and he was going to end up pissing off everyone. And yet he stood in front of the Elysium building with Fiona beside him, staring up at the glass tower, sighing.

How many times had he stood in front of this tower and smiled, excited to get inside, to talk to Antoinette and chat about music or life? Dozens. Now he was fidgeting, anxious, and dread was sitting in his stomach like rocks.

“Ye alright?” Fiona said.

“Yeah, yeah I ... I don’t know.”

“What’s the worry?”

“I ... I’m dating the Prince.”

“ ... ye’re what?”

“The Prince is my girlfriend ... we love each other.”

“Oh, that is nae something I expected. Damien said you stopped him from killing her — still very much in the mirk about all that by the way — but I didnae realize you two were an item.” Fiona grinned and bounced in front of him. “He said she was ancient.”

“She is.”

“And ye’re very young. Young as me.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, ye love her. I’m guessing she’s an intelligent, wise person?”

“ ... she is.”

Fiona shrugged and started to walk around him in circles. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I have to talk to her about city matters. I have to try and control a conversation about serious shit that has nothing to do with her and me, but it’s putting us against each other.”

“Against? I thought ye said the werewolves just wanted ye to be the middleman in their talks.”

The monster sat down on the steps of the tower, and stretched her arms over her head. Jack was in his typical Invictus business suit, but they had to find something for Fiona to wear; no way she’d be wearing jeans and a leather jacket to such a meeting. Natasha and Damien helped find her something a little less street, a little more business. Some gray business pants and a nice chestnut blouse with frilly cleavage. It looked good on the curvy creature.

“Yeah, you’re right, but I doubt things are going to go that smooth. I’m going to have to argue the wolves’ side, and then argue the Primogen’s side, and then her side.”

“I think ye’re making things bad before they’re bad. Besides, if ye’re the middleman, maybe ye can be a mediator? Ye’ll get to see both sides like ye said, so ye’ll be in a better position than anyone to stop shit from going crazy.”

Stop shit from going crazy. He laughed and set his face in his palm.

“My life has been one nonstop train of crazy since I was embraced, Fiona. I just ... was kind of hoping the train would stop for a while.”

Fiona hopped up, put an arm around his neck, and started to walk him toward the building.

“Sound like ye’re pretty happy with the Prince. Why Prince, anyway? Antoinette’s a lass, aye?”

“Old title Kindred have used for a long time. Not sure where it came from.” The Lancea et Sanctum records might, if Damien still had any, if Garry hadn’t destroyed it. “And we are very happy. It ... it’s fucking amazing, and I’m fucking terrified this is going to drive a wedge between us.”

“Ye trust her?”

“Yeah, a lot.”

“And ye ken she loves ye like ye love her?”

“Yeah.”

Fiona shook her head, frowned at him, and shook him a few times. “Then stop being a moron. Even if, for some silly reason, everything burns to the ground and ye’re stuck in the middle between wolves and vampires, yer relationship is the stuff of legends. Legends! Movies are made and books written about this sort of romance.” Despite being in the lobby of the Elysium tower, Fiona squeaked like an excited pig, a sort of squee sound, and jumped around a few times in a circle. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

Fiona reminded him of someone. His sister Mary maybe, only because she seemed to run with small romance ideas and explode them into grand tales. Mary had inherited all the enthusiasm and jovial romanticism. He’d inherited a sarcastic bite and realist mindset.

“Jacob and Garry will be there too,” he said. “You’re going to be in a room with a bunch of vampires, ages one hundred to five hundred. Ancient, hungry, and protective of their property. How can you be so excited?”

“Sorry, just how I deal. I get nervous, I get excited. Like skydiving.”

Jack felt his dead, withered stomach try and force up some nonexistent food. Jumping out of a plane was not something he could ever see himself getting excited about.

“You ok there Terry? Looking like you’re about to get bitten by a dog.” Chunk leaned over his desk and raised a brow at him as he walked by. “Got a girl with ya though, and ain’t she a cutie.”

Fiona raised a brow at the heavy, bald man sitting behind the front desk. There were some other guards sitting around too, working at their computers, tapping away at their keyboards — no idea what a guard did on a computer — while Chunk looked at the two creatures.

“Ye’re not too bad looking yerself,” she said, chuckling.

“The Prince won’t be too happy though,” Chunk said, “about you getting a girl.”

Yeah, cause that was the real concern, a miscommunication about a girl, not the horrors crawling into their lives.

“Friend of mine. Has the council meeting started?”

“Yeap. Just go right on to the top floor there, Mister Terry.”

If only an Invictus was calling him Mister, it’d have some real weight then. Mister Terry, like Mister Mire. Powerful, and buried in responsibilities. Halfway there.

Jack nodded, and continued walking to the elevators of the grand lobby. Each step heavy, and slow, dragging through mud and all the cold sludge of inevitability. As the guards resumed their work, each clop of his fancy shoes echoed, and each earned a small wince. Fiona was fidgeting and bouncing behind him, glancing around and taking in the sights as best she could despite walking into the den of predators.

Come on Jack, you’ve walked this lobby hundreds of times, and you’ve talked with Antoinette hundreds of times. The Primogen are predators, yes, but their leader is your girlfriend, your love, not to mention Julias will be there too, and Fiona’s done nothing to warrant any action against her. She hasn’t given up the Masquerade, and she hasn’t damaged the food supply too much. Calm down.

Or it wasn’t Fiona he was genuinely worried about. The werewolves? He didn’t know them, and as terrifying as the pack of wolves were — yeap, terrifying, no getting around that description — he wasn’t really worrying about them either. Not right now at least. His earlier night with Antoinette had settled his worries for a little while, insuring him this meeting would not affect them, but now, as he stepped onto the elevator with the Begotten, all his worries were coming back.

The whole situation reeked of impending struggles for their relationship. It was his first real relationship, and if he lost it, he didn’t know what he’d do. The knot in his stomach grew, and he swallowed it down as the door closed. Everything was going to be fine, you’re making mountains out of molehills.

You’re not Tony.

“As you all know, I am sure, a series of visits to our city has occurred in a rather condensed timespan.” Antoinette sat in her chair, back straight, legs folded, arms on the chair arms. Like she was sitting in a thrown, giving her decree. “And I am sure I am not the only one to find this both unusual, and unnerving.”

Jack gulped, and looked around the room. Julias glanced his way a few times, even offered a tiny smile, but otherwise sat the same as everyone else did, poker faces and steel bodies. The tallest room in the building, its gigantic wall window, the glass table, huge and impressive chairs; it was all very imposing. Jack could not have felt more uncomfortable standing a bit off to the side, near the Invictus triumvirate, and trying his best to not tremble. Fiona was outside the room, to be summoned later.

If Antoinette had had any feelings for him before now, they were gone. She looked his way every so often, and an ice glare froze him to the core. Never seen her red eyes do that, not ever. Sure, when dealing with Lucas her gaze had turned to fire capable of incinerating mountains, but ice was new, and painful.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucked up,” Garry said. He wore some jeans and a black shirt; Fiona was overdressed in comparison. “Not gonna lie, I can’t imagine it’s a coincidence either. Wolves and monsters coming to Dolareido at the same time?”

Julias nodded and tapped his fingers on the glass table in a quiet rhythm. “But Avery and Azamel have no connection to each other.”

Jacob wiped off some nonexistent dust from the shoulder of his robes — Christ he looked like a necromancer or something — and leaned in. “We alright talking about these issues in front of the kid? Why’s he here?”

“Jack’s purpose will be explained momentarily.” Maria mirrored Jacob, leaning in before resting her elbows against the glass. Power pose. “In matters concerning the Uratha, Jack is welcome to what we know.”

“Is he now?” Jacob, brow raised and looking straight at him, leaned back in his chair, hooked his fingers behind his head, and smiled at him. Joker smile and a bandage across eyeless eye sockets was not a pleasant thing to have staring at you. “Everything?”

“What you wish to share.” Michael leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “Out of respect for you Jacob, we haven’t brought up the details of the last visit from Avery.”

Respect for Jacob. Jack squinted one of his eyes a little and watched Michael, watched where his eyes went, what he did with his fingers, how his posture changed. It certainly wasn’t a happy respect, more like a begrudging one. And Jacob returned it with a nod, a begrudging thank you.

“Indeed. We do not want a repeat of last time,” Antoinette said. “Avery is now the leader of her own pack, and has returned in pursuit of prey. What that prey is we are not sure, but we do believe it may have something to do with the old tunnels in Devil’s Corner. We know the tunnels are in need of maintenance, but with the unusual activity in said tunnels, none of us have sent personnel to repair them.” The Prince frowned, brushed her hair back over her ear, and tilted her head a little as she looked down at the table with furrowed brow. “Naturally, wolves, spiders, and monsters have decided to nest there.”

Silence hung heavy on the room, and each Primogen looked to the other with slow glances and tensed shoulders.

“Surely this won’t be the same as last time,” Julias said.

“Indeed.” Maria motioned for Jack to step forward, and he did with a snap to his step like a good little soldier. “Avery is not Simon. She is open to a degree of communication. A small degree, but a degree nonetheless. She has chosen Master Terry to be an intermediary between the Primogen and the Uratha.”

Jacob burst into laughter, and slammed both his palms down against the glass table. No one reacted, except for Jack. Jack jumped a foot in the air, and winced as every set of eyes glanced his way.

“Avery picked a fucking ambassador?”

Julias shook his head and dismissed the notion with a sweep of his hand. “Master Terry will be an intermediary to help facilitate communication, and nothing more. Not a negotiator, not a mediator.”

“The fuck is the point then?” the eyeless said

Michael growled and looked Jacob’s way. “Do you think it would end well, having Avery and her pack in our presence again?”

“Doesn’t bother me.” Garry shrugged, and hooked his hands behind his head. Playing nonchalant, pretending to be comfortable with the situation maybe.

“Yes, we understand Avery visited you recently,” Michael said. “Would you aid those animals just to be a thorn in our side, Carthian?”

It was certainly a possibility, Jack realized. If Garry was willing to side with the Uratha — whatever that would entail — then the Invictus would have a problem. Everyone would have a problem.

But Garry shrugged. “I wasn’t happy with how things went last time either, but admit fault where fault is. If everyone had simply stepped aside and let the dogs do their thing, less people would have died.”

Good god would one of them share the details already. Jack couldn’t ask it, Jacob would probably kill him if he did, but the tiptoeing on the subject earned fidget after fidget, eye twitch after eye twitch.

“To prevent communications from escalating to such rancor, that is why Avery has chosen my childe.” Julias smirked and turned to look at Jack. “Master Terry has a way with people. I think you’ll find him a much better point of contact than any of the wolves, and they will be more receptive to him than they were to any of us.”

Jacob snorted and grit his teeth; didn’t seem too convinced. “So if I want to tell Avery to drown in shit and vomit, I have to go through this kid?”

“Yes.” Antoinette, sighing and tapping her fingers on the table, leaned her weight onto an elbow on the chair arm, and her eyes shifted between Jack and Jacob with scrutiny. “I would prefer such requests be done only during Primogen meetings, but ultimately, all that Master Terry learns and says in this matter will be the domain of us all, in or outside of our meetings.”

Holy shit. He was going to have elders visiting his apartment or interrupting his Invictus work, so he could deliver messages to the wolves. Shit just getting worse by the minute.

“Master Terry.” Jacob, lip raised in a snarl, leaned in over the table far and deep, and cocked a brow in his direction. “So, what do the wolves have to say? They just want their hunting grounds or what?”

The room went silent as all eyes — and Jacob’s gaze — fell upon him. Heavy stone tied around his neck pulled him to the floor. Claws dug into his chest and opened his insides for all the beasts to stare. Even Antoinette, love of his life, was staring at him and waiting for him to say one thing wrong, one thing out of line, one thing that’d burn the situation to the ground, rubble and embers.

Kindred were paranoid creatures. He tried to convince himself he was overreacting, that they hadn’t said anything disastrous yet; and they hadn’t. But he knew there were layers to each sentence, most he didn’t understand, but some he did. If the elders had a problem with the wolves, something worth arguing about, then it was a problem that cost lives.

He looked each elder in the eyes for a fleeting moment, did his best to hold their gaze, before moving onto the next, and gulped on nothing. If there was one way he was going to die, it’d be pissing off every elder in his home town, lover included.

“Nothing yet, my Prince and Primogen. Only that we are to stay out of the tunnels in Devil’s Corner, and that all communication is go through myself. They will perform their hunt, inform me of their actions, and I am to explain them to you.”

“And if I said I wanted someone else?” Garry smacked his chops and glared at Jack, hard. If he’d started barking, it wouldn’t have been surprising.

“The Uratha said it was non negotiable, Lord Tones.” Maybe a lofty title of address would help the bitter truth pill go down easier. Or some peanut butter for the mongrel.

For the love of fucking god do not grin at that image.

But Garry laughed and shook his head. “Course she did. But, Maria’s right, Avery isn’t Simon, so maybe things will go a bit smoother this time? Intermediary is a step in the right direction. Maybe choosing an Invictus was a bad idea, but, I’ll give this a whirl and see how it goes.”

Jack lowered his head in a nod, and waited. The tension in the room seemed to lessen a little, and where everyone had looked ready to pounce with their leaning forward postures and hard-set teeth, the elders — and Julias too — started to lean back in their chairs and get comfortable again.

“Master Terry does have another point of business, unrelated,” Maria said, “but important.”

The Prince waved a hand for him, and Jack stepped a little closer toward her.

“Yes,” Antoinette said. “As if God were bored and seeking to humor himself, Begotten have begun sprouting in Dolareido again. It may be because of the passing of three of our elders, that we look weak and these wolves and monsters have decided to take advantage. It may simply be a case of bad timing. But Begotten now walk our streets once more.”

The whole room sighed. Not the same oh-fuck-not-again sigh bringing up the Uratha stirred, but a there’s-a-fly-in-my-food sigh.

“Azamel has returned,” Antoinette said, “but she is not Master Terry’s concern. This concerns a newcomer. And while all new Kindred are to be introduced to myself, I believe it is to the benefit of us all that new Begotten are introduced to the Primogen as a whole.”

Oh, an olive branch, maybe? She was the Prince, it was her job to keep everyone satisfied, or in line. She opted for diplomacy normally, far as Jack could tell, but he was sure she had to use force to get the position. He should ask her about it sometime.

“Master Terry, please fetch Fiona,” Antoinette said.

He nodded and stepped out into the hall. No doubt the Primogen already knew what he was doing. Not like they didn’t sense her from so close. So as he brought the small woman into the meeting room, they all glared at her like she was a pestering insect.

“Good morning!” she said, big smile on her face, hand waving. “Glad to meet ye.”

If looks could kill, Fiona would have exploded in a glorious display of bones, blood, and organs as each Primogen and the Prince glared at her. It was enough to get her to stop waving, but her smile only shifted from nervous to anxious.

“This is Fiona Young,” Jack said, “a fairly recent arrival to Dolareido. In her ignorance, she began to hunt kine without permission. She is responsible for the disappearances in Devil’s Corner.” He escorted her to stand before them in the most open section of the table near the Prince. He bowed, she didn’t; until he kicked her in the side of the foot, and she managed a nervous chuckle before bowing as well.

“Great, another pain in the ass. How old are you girl?” Garry said. “How long you been a monster?”

So much for proper introductions.

“About a year.” She stood up and, again, smiled. Just her way of dealing with nervousness, like she said.

It wasn’t just her though. The hard tension in the air was gone, but everyone was looking at Fiona with a little more scrutiny than Jack had figured. If the Uratha were here, he was sure they’d be looking at the wolves with a mix of anger and distrust, but with Fiona, they were looking at her with ... disgust?

“A year?” Antoinette turned her chair to face the Scottish woman, and looked her up and down. “You have a large appetite for someone your age.”

“Uh, sorry. I ... I can try and eat less.”

“See that you do,” Maria said.

Antoinette frowned at Fiona, but after a few moments of silence, sighed and let the frown fade. “What Maria means is that we have spent decades building Dolareido as a place Kindred can live more comfortably than other cities. I crafted this city for that purpose from its infancy. And Begotten have a habit of drawing attention we do not want.”

“Attention?” Fiona said.

McDonald groaned, loud enough to grab Fiona’s attention. “Yes, attention. Vampires and werewolves, and monsters, are known quantities in the world. You can find mentions of us in texts old and new. For Kindred, we preserve the Masquerade, the secret of our existence. If you had been Kindred, we would have punished you for your gross negligence.”

Jack winced. Fiona whistled, and squirmed.

“Sorry,” she said. “I ... I had nae idea.”

“And,” McDonald continued, “our reports suggest the disappearances have mostly occurred in the past four months. How long have you been in Dolareido?”

“About ten months ... sir. But, uh, about four months ago, the um ... the dream changed. Less oppressive. Less ... cruel. So I got a little comfier when the changed happened, and I guess I let my appetite run away with me.”

“The dream changed?”

Everyone turned to look at Jacob. The man had an intrigued expression, if Jack was reading his face right; never easy with the bandage tied around his head.

“Aye. When I first came ‘ere, dark chains cut through much of the dream, and my lair was ... uncomfortable. But something happened, nae idea what, and the chains went away. Been happy times since then, since—”

“Since Viktor and Tony died. It sickens me to know those two affected such things,” Antoinette said, her turn for the intrigued expression. Everyone mirrored it soon after, throwing glances each other’s way, and then settling on Fiona. “We have had little contact with your kind outside a few encounters, Begotten, and they have not been ... good, for the city. I am sure you will come to discover on your own, when Azamel inevitably talks with you.” Venom dripped from her voice.

“Who is Azamel?” Fiona said.

The Prince frowned and leaned back in her chair as she looked Fiona up and down a few more times, analyzing her body language no doubt. “There are several other Begotten in the city. I cannot prevent you from interacting with them. But know that Azamel has been a problem for us before, and I cannot guarantee your life if you befriend her.”

“ ... my life?”

“What the Prince means,” Julias said, “is that Dolareido is run by Kindred and the Kindred are protected by our laws. Begotten are not. If a Kindred decides to end you because they want to, for any reason at all, you can’t protest using our laws. All you can do is hope a different Kindred claims sanctuary for you. Understood?”

Second class citizen. Jack winced again, and looked at Julias. His sire did a good job of avoiding eye contact, but when Jack looked to the Prince, she caught his glance. And twitched. Just a little, just on the lip, just enough to change her frown into something less, before she grit her teeth and looked down. She’d thrown Fiona a death threat, and Julias had backed it up. They were putting her in her place and she hadn’t done anything besides eat a few abusive bastards. The fuck did they have against Begotten?

Fiona nodded, sighed, and squirmed a little in her shoes. But she still had a smile, and an edge of a grin growing on it too.

“I understand.”

“Good.” Antoinette motioned for the door with her hands before looking back to the Primogen. “Thirteen kills since your arrival is far too many for Dolareido, despite the city’s population. Control your hunger, or we will control it for you. You two may go.”

Jack put his hand on Fiona’s shoulder for a passing moment, and the two of them walked out of the devil’s den. He glanced over his shoulder, but neither Julias or Antoinette looked his way, their gazes locked on the table. The others didn’t seem to mind looking at him though, Garry with a sneer, and the two Invictus with something close to a dismissing eye roll. Jacob though, he had a small smile on his face, and his eyeless gaze followed them out of the room.

Once the door was closed behind them, Fiona opened her mouth, but Jack shook his head.

“When we’re outside,” he whispered, barely audible.

Down the elevator, passed the lobby and Prince’s servants, and back outside. The warm night air and the beautiful Elysium garden maze. The familiar sights of suits and sexy dresses walking the streets, jewelry on display.

So much better than being surrounded by that pack of angry, surly, barking animals.

“What the fuck was that?” he said.

“I dinnae ken. I ... I felt they hated me.”

“Yeah, I got that impression too, like a brick to the face. I expected my night to suck, Fiona, but not because of you. Figured the wolves would be the main source of tension, and they were, but ... but with you, it was ... they really didn’t like you. I ... I have to apologize for them, cause that was ... I can’t...”

“It’s alright. I’m sure they have their reasons, aye? This Azamel might be a real bastard.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it doesn’t justify their behavior. They treated you like a...” Like a fucking bug infestation. He grit his teeth, and started walking.

Didn’t get far before he looked back up at the tower. On the tallest floor, he could see movement. Someone standing in front of the glass then, and that someone had to be Antoinette; no one else would get up in her meeting room.

He frowned up at her, and kept walking. Maybe he was overreacting. They were just protecting the city after all, and being cautious. And assholes. He’d expected Garry and Maria and Michael to be dicks, and they were, and he expected Antoinette to be cold, and she was. But Julias too? And Jacob was the only one who didn’t seem displeased about the situation.

“Hey,” Fiona said, “they said there’d been thirteen disappearances in Devil’s Corner?”

“Yeah.”

“Weird. Only killed twelve.”

He raised a brow. “That is weird.”

“Could be a mistake right? Coincidence?”

“Yeah ... maybe.” Maybe not.

~~Julias~~

“ ... she isn’t Azamel,” Julias said. “We didn’t have to threaten her like that.”

“Yes we did.” MacDonald threw him a growl. “You didn’t have to deal with her, Mister Mire. Honors did. You want to clean up the mess of a hungry monster?”

“I’ve dealt with draugr before, Mister MacDonald.”

“It is not the same.” Antoinette got up and walked over to the window, a loud sigh escaping her once she looked down. Probably watching Jack leave. Whole conversation couldn’t have been easy for her. “A Kindred surrendered to the beast is a dangerous creature, yes. A Begotten that is hungry is...”

“You’re familiar with the damage Azamel caused before she upped and left?” Garry said.

Julias nodded. “Truncter tower and a couple nearby buildings were destroyed in the confrontation.”

Jacob laughed, a hard snort of a chuckle that earned frowns from everyone. “The buildings weren’t destroyed in the conflict, they started the conflict, Mister Mire. Azamel got too hungry for her own good, and lost control.”

“ ... she destroyed four buildings?”

“In a single attack.” Antoinette paced back and forth in front of the glass, hands behind her back, eyes still on the window and below. “As I am sure Viktor Honors explained to you, Azamel Venastroth hungers for power. And I do not mean in the classic sense. She once used the word tyrant to describe the hunger, the need to be a tyrant.” Snarling, the Prince dragged her nails across the glass, until the Primogen all winced as her nails began to cut into it.

The Prince got angry all the time, but she never showed it. Always steel, always cold and calculating; at least, during Primogen meetings. But she was visibly angry, shoulders raised and hands gripping into fists as if choking someone. Not cold steel this time, all fire, like Beatrice. With Triss, he could hug her and force her to calm down; Antoinette would rip him into literal shreds in a second if he tried to console her with even a single word.

“She did that alone? That quickly?” Julias leaned back in his chair and brought a finger to his chin. “I underestimated the threat.”

“Alder Honors did not want the true threat Azamel posed to be known, Mister Mire,” Maria said. “She was not our enemy. Just a ... volatile presence.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Just when he thought he knew the details of things, just when he thought he was getting a feel for what sorts of secrets Viktor had been keeping from him.

“What about this Fiona?” he said. “Not nearly as old as Azamel.”