Chapter 35

~~Beatrice~~

She slipped on her boots and stepped out of her alcove, her little cave in a cave.

“Going out?” Aaron said.

“Yeah, just to hang with Julias’s childe.”

“Right right, making friends with Invictus.”

She shrugged and gave the man a little push on the shoulder. “The Circle is small. Carthians and Invictus are huge. We’re not at war with them you know, make some friends.”

Aaron shrugged. He was sitting in a chair by the back wall of the cave, the one covered in bones like some sort of painting sculpture. Reading a book too, as per usual.

“Books are better friends.”

“Ha, fuck no man. Hey, I love a good story, and I love some fucking peace and quiet, but there’s something to be said for friendship. And no, I don’t mean a facebook friend you fucking cunt.” Head off that stupid joke before he made it. “A real friend, someone you can talk with all night.” Not that Jack necessarily fit the bill, but maybe.

“You’ve changed quite a bit the past year haven’t you?”

“Yeah, glad I’m did. Try it sometime.” She waved her claws at him, and started out of the cave.

Or at least, that was the plan. But some quiet moans drew her attention. Othello’s alcove, with the door hang blanket pulled aside for all to see.

She hadn’t heard anything a moment ago, when inside her room. Weird that she’d only hear the sex now. She looked at his little hole in the wall, then to the tiny tunnel leaving their enormous abode, then back to his room. Julias had said it was perfectly ok for her to watch. So, grinning, she walked over to his place, and leaned against the side of the opening.

“Hey Triss,” he said.

“Heya.”

“H-Hello,” the woman said.

“Beatrice, I don’t think I’ve ever introduced you to Madison. Madison, Beatrice.”

The two women nodded at each other. Which would have been perfectly normal, except for the fact Madison was currently having sex with Othello.

Othello was lying down, and from the angle and position, Beatrice was basically looking straight down at his head, while the rest of him was pointed away from her. Which meant Madison, facing them, was on full display. She was riding him, her knees to the furs underneath them, and she was leaning back, holding onto Othello’s legs with her hands to brace herself while she rode him.

Beautiful. A black woman with very dark skin, and short black hair, super short, maybe an inch at most, and super curly. She was average height, with luscious, thick lips, and a little meat on her bones. Not chubby, but with enough softness to give her body glorious curves, and her heavy breasts flattened to her torso as they drifted off the sides of her ribs with their natural size, and her leaning back angle. She had a gentle looking face too, complete with shy smiles and guilty glances.

No wonder. The girl was riding Othello in a slow, almost dance-like way, and with her leaning back so her body was on display, it was easy to see they were having anal sex — as Othello always did — and her smooth pussy was completely in view. The pink of her insides was just visible between her dark lips, and her trickling juices glistened in such an appealing way.

Beatrice didn’t hear them earlier cause they were having the most gentle, sensual sex she’d ever seen Othello have. But judging from the liquids the girl was leaking from her exposed snatch over the vamp’s pelvis, they’d been at it for a while. And since the sun had just gone down an hour ago, it meant the girl was here during the day. So she was one of Othello’s ghouls. Or his only ghoul? She should ask about that.

“Enjoying yourself?” Triss said.

Madison, making a little shiver of pleasure, looked up from Othello to her. “Me?”

“Yeah you.”

“ ... I ... I am.” She was rolling her hips back and forth, a position Triss knew all too well. Leaning back like that when facing the man made the cock press up against the front walls, toward the belly. Fucking euphoric feeling, and this Madison girl was milking that pleasure right in front of Triss’s eyes.

The Nosferatu looked down at the lazy Daeva. Bastard wasn’t doing a thing, not moving his hips or touching her clit or anything. His hands were netted behind his head, so the man could just relax, and let her do all the work.

But judging from the woman’s expression, her shivering body, and hard nipples, she was enjoying doing all the work.

Triss kicked Othello in the shoulder anyway though. “Dude, help her out.”

The man laughed, but shrugged and reached out to hold onto the woman’s hips with one hand, while the other sneaked between her thighs to press his thumb against her swollen clitoris.

Like fireworks. Girl was obviously already close, but she’d been struggling to stay quiet. All bets were off when people were watching, and Othello was massaging her sweet bud. The moans started, and so did the bouncing, angled in just the right way to no doubt push Othello’s cock up toward her abdomen, hit the walls of sensitive flesh, get the whole body buzzing and tingling.

She came in seconds. Her new bouncing lasted only moments before it slowed, and she let her head fall back over her shoulders as the moans grew louder, mixed with mewls, and a little squeak every now and then. Her legs squeezed on Othello’s sides as he massaged her clitoris, and her body shook as a little trickle of juices leaked from her pussy onto his body.

“Fuck...” Yeap, that was her and Julias right there. Madison didn’t have any piercings or tattoos, but other than that the position was one of her favorites, riding, anal, controlling the angle so it hit those spots inside that melted her. “Now ... now sit up dude, get in there, kiss her tits, rub her back, come on.” Beatrice blinked at herself. The fuck was she doing, giving sex directions. And why was it so fun?

Othello laughed again, so did Madison, and he sat up to put both hands on the small of her back. With her sitting on him and having anal sex, she had to wrap her legs around his waist and hook her feet behind his butt to keep the angle right, and she leaned back a little as she hooked her arms over his shoulders too. And when Othello craned his head down to start kissing her breasts, Madison sighed bliss, and cradled the back of his head with one hand.

Not a good angle for getting off, but a great angle for building up the pressure, getting more juices flowing, and it just looked really awesome. Her with her legs wrapped around him, leaning back, sitting on his lap, Othello leaning down to suckle on those huge tits and making a display of it. Dude was Daeva, he got off on being passionate; and being passionate with an audience must have stroked his ego in ways even Beatrice couldn’t appreciate. But she knew it would, and sure enough, Othello was groaning into his meal’s huge breasts as he kissed them, teased them, suckled on them hard enough to pull one away from her body a few inches, and then let it drop with gravity to jiggle lightly.

Madison enjoyed it just as much as Othello. Probably why Othello made her his ghoul, if the girl pressed all his buttons just right. Not that ghouls were always picked for sexual compatibility, but it was definitely a plus, especially to a Daeva. The woman squirmed and wriggled, and peeked over Othello’s craning head to look at Beatrice, smile at her, and mouth ‘thank you’ silently.

Ok Triss, you’re supposed to go meet Jack. Stop playing porn director.

... five more minutes.

“K, now, turn around, and Madison you get on your back. Othello on your knees, and hold onto her hips. Madison, put your legs over his shoulders.

Othello didn’t even hesitate. Awesome. It’d probably lead to awkward conversations in the future, but for now, it was great how the man listened to her without skipping a beat, without her needing to ask, everyone was just going with the flow. Fun. This was fun. Holy fuck she was having legitimate fun with her fellow Circle members.

They got into position. Madison was on her back on the furs, with her legs hooked on Othello’s shoulders. But since Othello was kneeling tall, her ass was a foot off the ground and held up by his hands. It not only highlighted Madison’s beautiful body with a great curve to her stomach, and let her large breasts flatten to her chest and ribs in that heavy-and-real way, but it also made her pelvis angle upward, so Othello’s cock pushed toward her belly again, hit those spots Triss knew well.

Cause apparently she missed her passion as a porn director.

“K, now ... start fucking her, Othello. Slow at first.”

He did so, holding the girl’s hips and keeping her ass off the rug, so none of the magic of the angle was lost. And since they’d rotated like she asked, now Madison was closer to Triss, and all the Nosferatu had to do to see all the juicy details, was look down at her.

Madison moaned, openly, loudly, and hugged herself under her breasts as she started to shift back and forth across the rug from Othello’s deep strokes of his cock. She smiled up at her, full lips a slightly brighter shade of dark compared to her very dark skin, with a hint of pink from her lipstick. Othello really knew how to pick them; girl was gorgeous.

“You ... don’t want to joint us?” Madison said between pants.

“Sorry, got a boyfriend.”

“Mister Mire, right. Shame.” Madison said. “Cause ... you ... you know ... the...” The girl’s mouth opened, and her eyes closed as another long moan came out of her.

Othello didn’t need any more direction. He started to fuck her a little harder, a little faster, and Madison started to whimper with each stroke. One of her hands reached down for her clitoris again, and she started to massage the bud, the other hand reaching down lower to find her cunt, and slip some fingers into her. All while Othello fucked her ass.

So much stimulation, the girl didn’t last. She managed two more minutes before she came, and both her hands left her pussy to come back to her body, to grip the furs around her as Othello sank his cock into her ass. A small splash of her juices hit the man in his lower abdomen, joined by a rather loud groan from the beautiful ghoul.

“S-Slow down,” Madison said. The sound of a girl trying to talk mid orgasm was such a turn on.

“Don’t stop Othello,” Triss said. Girl was at that perfect spot for a sustained orgasm, whether she realized it or not. And making a girl cum harder when she was asking for a break? Hell, Triss had gone through that just a couple nights ago with Julias. Intense, seeing white spots and the whole body just starts to tremble and shake, toes curl, sparks of pleasure going through the limbs until your cunt’s squeezing like a vise. And in Triss’s case, squirting like a fountain.

And Madison’s too. Maybe not a fountain, but the girl was getting soaked nonetheless, and a tiny splash of her juices hit Othello’s abdomen again. Othello continued to pump her through her orgasm, until Madison reached up to press against his stomach. Trying to stop him. Fucking god that was hot.

“W ... wait...” Another mewl, and her shortened breaths were reduced to nothing but pants. She kept pushing against Othello, but her hands were panicky, shaking, and doing nothing to actually stop the man from fucking her. And seeing her struggle to stop him, seeing her press her fingers to his abs, begging for him to cease, as she again leaked juices onto his body?

Good god in heaven Triss needed to get a camera and do this professionally.

Eventually Othello slowed down. A couple of his own tiny groans marked his orgasm, and the two vampires traded smirks as the man held the girl’s ass to his body until he was balls deep, pouring his cum inside her. Madison was spent, sweating and panting and hands limp on the furs, a mix of pleasure and exhaustion on her face.

“Not hungry?” Triss said.

“Nah.” Othello reached down, and scooped his ghoul back up into his arms as he sat down on his butt. The girl really was beat, and she set her chin on his shoulder with her arms hanging at her sides. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll drink her. Hey, you want I should wait tomorrow night for you? We can do this again, this was fun.”

“Yeah, it was fun.”

“And Madison really gets off when Kissed. Girl cums too easily.”

If she’d been blushing life, she’d be blushing red. Girl got off easily, and so did Triss, from the same sort of stuff apparently. Certainly not a bad thing, and she was happy to hook up with a Kindred with a sex drive as large as Julias’s so she could indulge. The thought of a romantic relationship with one of those Kindred that loses their sex drive? Ugh.

“Uh, don’t wait up. But if I’m around ... yeah, sure.”

“Great.” Othello’s hands were drifting up and down the woman’s back, massaging and caressing in that post-orgasm way that was ever so delightful when Julias did it to her. “Didn’t think you were into this so much. Kinda thought you were uptight.”

“Uptight? Dude, just cause I don’t bang everyone in sight doesn’t mean I’m a prude. The fuck you think Julias and I are doing—”

Othello put up a hand in surrender, and grinned at her over Madison’s shoulder. “Point taken.” And, as he smiled at Triss, he put both his hands on Madison’s hips, and started to gently shift her up and down. She still had her pelvis pointed toward him, still had his cock buried in her bountiful ass, and as the man’s cum leaked out of her, he started to softly fuck her again.

Triss had to give it to the man, he had the sexual stamina to match his sex drive. Surprising given his age of nearly a century. Supposedly, according to her elders, many Kindred stopped caring about sex so much when they approached that age. Course there were exceptions, like Othello and Julias and especially Antoinette. Made it hard to define Kindred so easily.

Othello gave his ghoul a couple of rather seductive, almost endearing kisses on her ears and neck, before he set the quivering, whimpering woman on her back again, on the furs. Triss expected the man to go hard, to pound her, but Othello continued to surprise her as took Madison’s arm, gently turned her onto her side, and then curled up behind her.

He spooned his ghoul, snug and comfortable in the rugs, and resumed gently fucking, hugging, and massaging. On his side with his head propped up on his palm, elbow to the rug, his other arm hugged around the girl’s side, up her chest to her breasts, where he pinched and teased her swollen nipples. And he did it all while he slowly ground his hips toward her butt, staying inside her as he tenderly fucked her ass.

Poor girl was still recovering, and she melted into the furs. Nothing but a big puddle of bliss and juices by that point, more moans escaping her as Othello leaned down to kiss her ear a few more times.

Ok, enough was enough. Triss managed a tiny, claw-wiggling wave, Othello returned it, and she stepped out of the cave.

Finally, she was outside in the canyon, surrounded by jagged rocks, some dried bushes, and a hell of a climb. Easy for a vampire, but not so easy she could afford not concentrating.

And concentrating was fucking hard. If she’d been blushing life, her jeans would have been soaked. She smirked as she considered the memory, telling Othello what to do, how it had all worked very well on the ghoul. She must have been a ghoul, and must have been in the cave before. But Triss had been trying to avoid looking into Othello’s room too much, afraid she’d offend Julias; probably why she never noticed the beautiful woman.

Ok, Julias may have been fine with her watching all the sex happening in the Circle, but directing it may have been a bit much. She’d make it up to him, take them out for the night, find a nice woman they could trap and Kiss and do things to.

But for now, time to see Jack.

Her catacombs. Well, not really, not since joining the Circle. She rarely came here anymore, and every time she did, she almost felt guilty, like she’d moved on and left an ex-boyfriend behind. And to make matters worse, this time she brought a guest.

Not Julias though. She’d feel extra extra guilty about violating her old lair if she’d done that. She brought Jack, Julias’s childe. The thought made her snort on a chuckle; her step-childe if she married Julias. Marriage was very, very, very rarely something Kindred engaged in, for obvious reasons, and the image of her in a wedding dress — white of course — while Julias waited for her at the end of the isle, pulled more laughter out of her.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing nothing, just thinking dumb shit. So, metal enough for ya?”

Jack smirked, and shined his light around at the skulls and bones. “Yeah, I have to admit, this is pretty badass. I wouldn’t sleep surrounded by bones or skulls mind you, Kindred or kine.”

“Bah, and you say you like metal.”

“I do! But I don’t moshpit or grow my hair three feet long and helicopter.”

Kid was just a kid. Still, kid had good taste.

“It goes deeper too, come on.” She moved along through the tunnels, where skulls and various arm and leg bones were jammed tight along small alcoves. Nothing as grandiose or insane as the catacombs beneath Paris, but still plenty of bones, plenty of death, plenty of artistic value. There were coffins too, and they matched the darkness like pillows matching the blankets.

“You used to hang out here?”

“Yeah. I did the stint in the abandoned tunnels, just the ones closest to topside, like the other Nosferatu hiding. And the Carthians have areas where Nosferatu can hang without kine stumbling in, seeing our fucked up shit. But I always liked it here more. Antisocial as all fuck.” Once they reached the bottom chamber, she reached out to lightly drag her claws along the skulls, soft enough to avoid scratching the bone. “You know how it can be when you’re young.”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t have crocodile teeth and snake eyes to deal with, but I went through rough times when I was embraced.”

“Yeah. That news about someone named Pavala seemed odd; Julias told me about it later. Rough shit man, frenzy kill on your first night?” she said. Jack winced with the name, but Beatrice shrugged and flicked at one of her teeth. Kid likely had people treating the topic with careful tongues, like he was fragile or something. She knew better. Being treated with sympathy got old quickly, and insulting soon after.

“Yeah. Snapped back to awareness on a fucking roof with a body and ... had to figure out something. First fucking night as a vampire, no idea what was going on, no idea why blood was everywhere until I saw the fang marks. God that was ... sickening.” Kid squatted down by one of the lower shelves, and reached out to touch some of the skulls. “Suppose that was nothing, compared to waking up with a crocodile mouth, or extra eyes on the face, or looking like a corpse.”

Ah, corpse lady, his boss.

“Yeap. Lot of Nosferatu get pretty suicidal in the first few years. But like your boss has done, you can make the disfigurements a moot point. Who needs sex when you have the Kiss anyway?” She did. She needed sex. But, especially for older Kindred, the Kiss was everything, and provided all the satisfaction and bliss one could ever need.

He raised his hand. “I need sex.”

They both laughed. God damn it, why hadn’t she hung out with this kid more before? She liked Julias, and if Julias liked Jack enough to sire him, there was a good chance she’d like him too. Or hate him.

“Get laid much before Antoinette?”

“Nope. She was my first.”

Damn she loved the kid’s honesty. Dude said the truth like the idea of lying or twisting it never even dawned on him.

“First time you have sex is as a vampire. Not only as a vampire, but with the Prince of a huge city, with jugs that require custom-ordered bras to fit them. That is a strange bout of luck.”

“Yeah I guess my experience is weird. That said, may have been my first time having sex, but I masturbated like ... ten times a week for near a decade before then.”

Oh god. She fucking lost it, laughed until it filled the whole catacombs, and she had to sit down to keep from falling over. It was how the kid said it, like it was completely normal, like he was just sharing a fact, that had her almost doubled over.

“And you were friends with Julias before, for how long?”

“Several years. He was involved in some of the contracts my firm was negotiating, and I was just an intern at the time. We started talking, and hit it off.”

“Little kid like you talking to a big-n-bad-looking guy like Julias? Were you trying to get in with the mafia?” Cause, no two ways of looking at it, Julias looked like a mobster with his slicked back blond hair and suits.

“A little? Really I was just curious. He looked like a powerful man, and had this air about him, of ... confidence, but also ... dunno. Just seemed like someone that, if I asked him a question, a good one, a smart one, I could expect a real answer from him.”

Ah, the Julias effect. She knew it well. Man was good with his words, and unlike Antoinette, he seemed like someone you could talk to despite his obvious power and confidence. A classic leader of a sort. If only the others knew what he was like behind closed doors, sick of his Kindred life, depressed, attaching to kine to feed off their joy by proxy.

At least until they met each other. She smirked as she thought of the man, her stupid Superman, and what they did for each other, the changes they made for each other.

And of course thinking of him made her think about having her hands pinned to her back while the man fucked her hard from behind. Not really the norm for them, but damn it’d been awesome.

“You don’t have any electricity here,” he said.

“Nah. Oh, fuck, good point. Let’s go back to your place, I gotta recharge my laptop and phone and shit.”

“Sure sure, invite yourself over.”

She chuckled, got up, and got moving. “I’ll try out some of your bands I haven’t heard yet, as payment.”

A quick trip to the Circle to pick up her shit while Jack went home, and then she met him at his place.

“So,” she said while plugging in her laptop, the two of them in his living room, “what bands you think I haven’t heard of? I’ve been into prog metal since before you were born, twerp.”

“Yeah but you’re a girl.”

“ ... what the fuck, the fuck is that supposed to mean? You little—” She was ready to get up off his couch and teach the little fucker some manners, but Jack smirked at her, the way Julias did when he managed to catch her off guard. Oh, he was kidding. “Not all girls listen to pop and shit you know.” He better have been kidding.

“Yeah I know, sorry. My sister, god damn she listened to nothing but. If there was any more than fives notes to the melody, and god forbid more than four chords, she’d call it too boring and not catchy enough.”

“Sure she’s your sister?”

“Yeah, looks like me and everything.” He shrugged and got some blood from the fridge, and for her too. At least Julias had taught him some manners. The absurdity of her worrying about manners made her smirk as she took the drink. “I could say the same thing about my whole family though. I was the apple that fell far from the tree.”

“I get the impression Kindred often are.” She nodded and took a sip. Cold blood had such a different taste and texture than warm blood, and she doubted she’d ever get used to it like the Invictus did. But it was fun to drink from a glass every once in a while. “I—”

Jack’s phone buzzed, and buzzed again as he took it out of his pocket. “Julias.”

“Better answer it.”

Kid nodded and raised it to his ear. Started drifting around his apartment too; he was one of those types. “Yello ... really? You sure? ... shit, you really think she’ll do that? I mean—fuck, right ... yeah ... I don’t know Julias, something else is going on. Like I told you, she said one of those kills wasn’t hers. I’ll ... fine, I’ll stay out of the way.” With a frown almost comical, kid hung up and put the smartphone back in his pocket.

“Personal news? Or Invictus business?”

Kid let out a long sigh and sat down across from her. No table between them anymore; her fault. “Julias says more people have been reported missing from Devil’s Corner.”

“ ... shit.”

“Yeah, they think it’s Fiona.” Jack frowned, grit his teeth hard enough she could hear it, and slowly shook his head. “No blood or claw marks, but there’s no ignoring the amount of disappearances. A few, in a week.”

“That isn’t good. Fuck that isn’t good at all. You think—”

“Julias figures Antoinette’s going to call a blood hunt on this girl if it really is all her.”

Beatrice winced and leaned back. A blood hunt meant all the Kindred would be duty-bound to kill whoever was targeted. Course that didn’t mean they had to do it, but it was a good bet the Prince would harshly punish any who didn’t do as the blood hunt demanded. And a blood hunt was not called lightly; Kindred rarely disagreed with one when it happened.

Lucas would have had a blood hunt declared on him, if it’d been possible politically, Garry told her. But when a Prince can point at a single individual, and blatantly declare they are a menace to the Masquerade with evidence to prove it, no one would dare ignore the call.

Which was a problem if the person wasn’t actually to blame.

“You don’t think it’s her making the kills?” she said.

“Do you?”

“I ... definitely not, not from the impression I got from her. Seemed nice, reasonable, intelligent. Seemed like she wanted to make the Prince happy, find a place to live here.” Cause Dolareido was awesome. Shitty, and awesome. “Guess Azamel was right. There’s something else going on.”

“I—” Knock knock. Jack reached up and started tearing out his non-existent hair. “Might as well hang a sign on the door that says No Appointments Necessary.” He got up and headed for the door, each step accompanied by Triss’s laugh. People were showing up at his place a lot, and no one bothered with the stupid elevator when everyone visiting could bypass it easily.

“Who is it?” she said.

“ ... fuck, it’s Fiona and Damien.”

Well, fuck indeed.

“Hmm, ain’t no blood hunt call yet. Your call.”

Jack sighed, nodded to no one, and opened the door. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Fiona said. “Think we can come in?”

“ ... sure.” Jack stepped back, and motioned for them to step inside.

“I—oh, Triss! Hi.”

The Nosferatu smirked and nodded to the monster. Hard to imagine the girl going on a killing spree, slaughtering kine like they were going out of style.

Damien came in behind her, and miserable thoughts dripped from him like black ink. The brooding sort no doubt, like Julias; after what happened to him, she couldn’t blame him. Cute though, with the weird half-bald head look and shoulder-length dark hair.

“Damien,” she said.

“ ... Beatrice,” he said, some worry in his tone. Understandable, two of them barely ever said a thing to each other. First time she’d seen him was when she spied on him from the vents in Tony’s old fortress. Third time, he was surrounded by ash, including that of his sire.

“Right horrible things are happening,” Fiona said.

“Tell me about it.” Jack leaned against the counter as he watched the two newcomers sit on the couches, Fiona next to Triss. “Avery came by and told me about your run in with the wolves. Glad you two came out alright though.”

“Mostly awright.” Fiona gestured with her chin to Damien. “Poor Damien got cut up a bit.”

“That’s of no consequence,” the Mekhet said. “The problem now is that the Uratha say Fiona is something called Azlu, and they’re hunting her.”

“It’s nae true!” Fiona bounced her legs and pounded her tiny fists against her knees. “I ... I’m nae that. Vrall remembers Azlu, and she’s nae that.”

Jack nodded, and with a few seconds of silence, came over to sit beside Damien. Uncomfortable, to be sure. “ ... there are more disappearances in Devil’s Corner.”

“More?” Damien said.

“Yeah. If things keep going this way, the Prince will call a blood hunt on Fiona.”

“I’m being framed!” Fiona threw her hands up and went sandbag on the couch. Triss struggled to keep from smiling, but the girl was too damn cute.

“You did kill twelve people before,” Beatrice said.

“But nae thirteen! Or any more since the meeting. I’m starving. Vrall is starving. She’s stomping around in the dream right now, and ... I’m so hungry.” She leaned onto Triss and set her cheek against the Nosferatu’s arm. “Wish I could just feed on blood like ye.”

“We talked to Azamel,” Triss said. “She wants to talk to you. Might be able to help you out with the hunger thing.”

“You talked to Azamel?” Damien looked at the two of them like they’d grown extra heads. “Why?”

“Figured she knows what’s going on more than we do.” What, did he think he was alone in helping Fiona? If that was true, he wouldn’t have come here. “Says there are spider things where you like to hunt, girl. Says something’s there taking advantage of the situation.”

“I knew it, I am being framed.” She got up and started to stomp around, face scrunched up like a squirrel. “We need to clear my name! Let’s go to the tunnels.”