My Little Ventrue

~~Julias~~

"Mister Terry, you'll be working with Madam Leauvion and Madam Jenning."

The boy raised a brow. "Sire?"

"I know you expected to be working with Mister Burksen and Madam Herrington, but ultimately, they have a lot of experience that would be better served working with younger, less experienced Kindred. In your team, your experience is key, and will compensate for Jenning and Leauvion's lack thereof, while at the same time, Jenning is Mekhet and old enough to provide a quality use of Obfuscate, and Leauvion is more than old enough to be the physical force of your team."

Jack didn't seem too convinced. But with a moment to think about it, the kid looked over at Gloria Jenning and Isabella Leauvion, and offered them a nod.

Any Kindred with over twenty years of second life to their name was a part of this meeting, which meant almost a hundred Invictus were in the room; most of the covenant. Jack was the exception, and several Kindred glanced his way as they tried to understand why the boy got such preferential treatment. Perhaps some time with Isabella and Gloria would fix that perception issue.

Julias took a moment to watch everyone's reaction to the first sweep team. The ancilla Kindred, and Jack, were all sitting at the large, wooden table in the center of the room, high in the Xnomina HQ. The younger stood against the room's walls, and they were nervous. None of them were old enough to have been through the trials Dolareido had once suffered. The Purge, Azamel's first visit, Avery's first visit, all incidents that had resulted in violence, and everyone standing along the large room's walls had missed them. It'd be ridiculous to keep the Right Hands together in the same group, when their vital experience needed to be shared.

For each trio of vampires, he gestured to the map of Dolareido behind him, presented on the enormous touch display, and he highlighted routes, problem areas, areas with little camera surveillance, or areas with plenty, and areas with none. Dolareido was a large, complicated city, with millions of people and thousands of hiding places; by design. Jacob, Antoinette, and Daniel had pushed for complexity and underground networks hundreds of years ago, and when more elders came to join their efforts in building the Kindred utopia, they agreed.

Now, it was all biting them in the ass. The hunters had so many places to hide, and that was compounded by the revelation that they had a Begotten working for them. How many hunters could stay in that nightmare at any given time? How did they get in and out? How did any of that work?

He continued, listing off teams. When he mentioned Jessy's name, she winced, and glanced between both him, and Jack. Strange. Something was on her mind, but it could wait. Once he was done, he stepped back and let Michael MacDonald take the floor.

"As you all know," the Gangrel said, "the hunters have demonstrated both a tenacity and professionalism unexpected of hunters. Leadership has turned what were once ragtag bands, and often solo hunters, into a dangerous, armed force."

Jessy threw up her hands before slamming them on the table. "Because Azamel's pissed off every hunter on the fucking planet, and everyone in a five-hundred-mile radius came here to kill her."

"No one's disagreeing with that." Groaning, Michael leaned back against the wall and ran a finger along his bald head. "Removing Azamel would lead to violence, and ultimately, this hunter problem is larger than just her, now. So in the meantime, we're going to deal with these hunters. If any of you try and avoid doing your jobs, because you think it's that old monster's problem, not ours, I will personally cut off your limbs and leave you for sunrise. Got it?"

Jessy frowned at her sire, but nodded as she sank into her chair a little. All the younger Kindred along the walls shrank considerably more; Michael wasn't Viktor, but the man was no stranger to violence, or using it to punish Kindred who stepped out of line.

"We have killed several of them," he continued, "but their leaders Jeremiah and Angela remain at large, and they seem to have an inhuman healing ability. We're going to kill them, one way or another. They killed Master Barry Tellern, and that alone is enough reason to deal with them."

Everyone made sure to not look at Isabella or Hella. Barry's death still stung for everyone in Isabella's group, and bringing him up earned a small growl from the young Gangrel Hella. For a group of actors and actresses, Isabella's gang were more respected than Julias had ever expected. He could still remember when she was sired, how quickly she found a home for her in both Dolareido, and the Invictus hierarchy. And he could remember how effectively she defended herself when other Kindred tried to muscle in on her territory.

Hopefully she'd work well with Jack.

"Moving on. Three of the Begotten will be joining our sweeps," MacDonald said. That got everyone's attention, and everyone looked Jack's way. "Yes, Mister Terry has spoken with Azamel, and she has agreed to help with these sweeps. Deal with it. After this meeting is over, Mister Terry will be talking with Avery, and she will be assigning Uratha to various teams; Garry Tones has already talked to her and recruited some Uratha to join his own. And, as with the Carthians, these teams will defer seniority to the Uratha."

Some of the vampires grumbled, and some others shifted weight from foot to foot, filling the room with the sound of suit fabric rubbing against itself. No one liked the sound of that, but Julias was smart enough to not wear that frustration on his exterior. Others weren't. MacDonald slammed his palm against the table, and everyone snapped to attention.

"Werewolves are good at two things. Wrecking shit, and hunting. I'm not happy about letting Avery boss us around either, but if we want her help finding and killing these fuckers, we're going to play by her rules. For those teams paired with an Uratha, listen to the wolves in all matters regarding the actual hunt. They will defer to us in matters of the city, and maintaining the Masquerade." And the look on MacDonald's angry face said it all: so help me god they will or I will kill them myself.

An elder Gangrel versus a werewolf. That would be an interesting battle. Would a werewolf bow to his mastery of Animalism? A scary thought, and a scary memory; Viktor had done similar.

"Dismissed."

The Kindred walked out, eyes set and determined. A goal to pursue, with steps, procedures, and a clear path toward victory, was something anyone could get behind, especially if revenge was a part of the motivation. But before Jack left, Julias waved him over, and waited for everyone else to leave.

"You going to be alright?"

"With Isabella and Gloria? I think I'll be fine. Gloria's happy to take backseat, and Isabella's happy with me and the damage I've done to Barry's killers." Sitting down, Jack looked to the door to make sure it was closed before he leaned in toward him, over the corner of the table. "I'm pretty sure she wants to recruit me into her group. Recruit, and... well, I don't think she wants to have sex with me; pretty sure she's a lesbian. But the looks she gives me, I'm sure she wants to involve me in what I can only assume are orgies with her actors. And I assume she wants to do that to get me under her thumb."

"She's bold, I'll give her that."

"Hella too, though I think she might be a little less... bold, I guess, in that department."

The Gangrel being less bold was peculiar, but he knew Hella well enough to know she was brave. The issue was Isabella was ancilla, seventy-years embraced, and was doing what all ancilla did: started pushing for power and stability in their world. And, old as she was, she had the strength to make it a reality, and the intelligence to do it without exposing her hand. Dance Macabre indeed.

"She'll do justice in a fight."

"I can fight too, you know."

"You're not even two-years embraced, Jack. You're strong, very strong for your age, but the last incident should have made it clear that you're not a front liner. Ventrue never are."

"It's not like I'm going to take an army of thralls with me."

"That's why you're taking two other Kindred I trust to handle themselves in a fight. And if I had to guess, Avery will set you up with one of the Uratha, and Azamel will set you up with someone too." He leaned back in his chair and combed his blond hair back over his head, sighing. "If that's Athalia... you see where I'm going with this."

"If our team runs into Angela, I'll make sure to follow the lead of whoever Avery pairs us with. If Athalia's with us, I trust her to at least help us detain her daughter."

"And stay off the front line." He almost told him to skip the idea of detaining. Kill the hunters. Wanted dead, not alive. But if Athalia was there, that might not be so easy.

"What's the point in all the training we've done together, if I don't get to use my abilities?" Jack frowned, and sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

"Ventrue are meant to rule, lead, and control, not throw punches. And, you're far too young to be risking your second life. You did impressive work escaping their capture, and you're a Right Hand not only because you're politically skilled, but because you're strong. That doesn't mean I'm going to let you try and take on hunters first hand." Because, smart as you are, strong as you are, you're still a kid, Jack.

"Fine."

"Jack, I'm serious."

"I know, and I get it, ok?"

No, he wasn't getting it. Jack was smart as hell, and stubborn as fuck, when it came to his views of himself. It'd take a hammer to the skull to get his point across to the idiot boy in front of him.

If Jack's team came upon some hunters, and push came to shove, Jack was going to shove back. This stupid kid was going to put himself on that front line, and get himself killed. Of course, Julias knew from experience, had done the same stupid shit, and had nearly gotten himself killed dealing with Carthians on multiple occasions. But they were never at full-on war with the Carthians in Dolareido, not ever, not like with these hunters. The tenuous truces between the covenants in the city had spared Julias his life when he was younger, and these hunters weren't going to do the same for Jack.

If Julias pushed too hard, Jack would push back, like any young man would. Question a man his ability to do something himself, something that the person believes they can do, and the man would naturally try and prove it. Jack was not immune to this, and Julias had to be careful of that.

Hopefully, someone else would run into the hunters in their sweeps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Julias was not going to enjoy this.

Sighing, he sat down in one of the booths, and looked around. One of the late-evening restaurants, that stayed open until sunrise. Monvaltamor's Evening.

The music was quiet jazz. The lighting was soft and moody, with lots of candles, and LEDs set to gentle light to mimic them. The atmosphere was romantic and poetic, with walls of white that looked like stone; fake stone, but convincing. Plants dangled from above, and decorated the walls, coiling and running along the various pillars and arches. Red drapes dangled for a couple feet from the arches, and each table was a hidden inside a nook made to feel like it was carved into a mountain of ivory. The table was only big enough for four, but the restaurant was meant for loving couples or couples of couples. The red booths matched the drapes of course, for maximum contrast and effect.

Everyone in the restaurant was either fucking the other person across the table from them, or was sitting beside someone they were, and talking to someone across the table who was doing the same; swinging couples. That made it the last place Julias expected to be having this conversation.

Jacob stepped in through the front door, and several people looked his way. Seeing the elder in a casual suit was strange, especially considering the color: dark purple, compared to Julias's gray. You needed a certain level of confidence, charisma, and eclectic flair, to pull of a suit like that. The fact Jacob was wearing a white mask over the top half of his face fit all too well. Anyone looking at him would assume the mask was the reason his eyes were solid black, not the lack of eyeballs.

"Julias, darling!" With a flamboyant fling of his wrist, he walked over to him, and sat down at his booth.

Julias rolled his eyes, and leaned back as he took a sip of his drink. The owner Monvaltamor was an Invictus thrall, and of course, had some blood bags in his fridge to serve. The spoiled life of the First Estate Kindred, and ruling every business to some extent or another.

"You know everyone assumes we're fucking now?" Julias said. "And, from the mask, assume that you're my sugar daddy, and you're some politician or whatnot trying to avoid the press."

"Well isn't that cute." Laughing, the elder snapped his fingers, and summoned a waiter. From the way he moved his hand, his shoulder, and the way he looked at Julias as he did, it was obvious Jacob was very comfortable in this setting. Why? The man had spent hundreds of years living inside caves, avoiding the benefits of a city or technology, and overall being antisocial. Even when Minerva was alive, she visited him, not the other way around.

Maybe the man just watched too much TV. Somehow.

Jacob leaned forward, and started tracing circles in the white table cloth, like he was being flirtatious. "I'm sure you know why I asked you here."

"You want to talk about the favor I owe you."

"Exactly. I—oh, thank you Jonathan." Nodding to the waiter, Jacob scooped up the wine glass of blood, and took a sip as he finger waved at the man.

"Jacob, why are you pretending to be flamboyant and gay?" And how the fuck did you know the thrall's name was Jonathan? He wasn't wearing a name tag.

"How rude! And homophobic."

"I—" No, don't fall for it. The man's just being random to disarm you. "What's the favor?"

"Come now, Mister Mire, don't spoil the fun so quickly."

"I have work to do, Jacob. You may have noticed?"

The elder smirked beneath his mask, and took another sip. "Yes, I understand your triumvirate, and Garry, are putting together teams to sweep the city."

"And you?"

"Beatrice, Othello, and Aaron, and maybe Jennifer will be doing their own thing, yes."

"I suppose you won't allow Avery to pair any of her pack mates with them."

"Correct." Like a knife through the bullshit, Jacob held a snarl for a half second, before his crazy smile returned, and he took another sip. "Besides, she's down one pack member, and by the time this is all said and done, I'm sure she'll be down more." His smile increased, and for a moment, Julias was sure he could see the devil through the eye slits of his mask.

"I won't help you kill any of her pack, Jacob."

"Didn't expect you to." A borderline admission of intent.

"And if you do kill any of them, you think the Prince or the sheriff will sit by idly?"

Shrugging, and smiling with his unyielding jackass smile, Jacob set his glass down, and netted his fingers together. Power pose, like he was going to start negotiating. Precursor for explaining the deal, maybe?

"How's your relationship with Beatrice these days?"

"None of your business."

"Seriously Mire? She's my student and my subordinate. I care about her, tough as that may be for you to believe. And I want to hear it from the horse's mouth how your relationship is going, considering your rise to council member of the Invictus."

Yes, it was a reasonable concern from the leader of a different covenant. Except this was Jacob, and he didn't deal in reasonable. He dealt in manipulation; they all did, but Jacob was better at it.

"Jack's my childe, student, and subordinate, and is in just as invested a relationship with a different covenant, and yet I leave that alone. Cut me some slack, Jacob."

"True, true. Though, you don't think if you had the authority to ask it, you'd poke and prod at the Prince a bit, to see how she's affected Jack, and what her plans are with him, in respect to the covenants?"

Yeah, he would.

"You want to talk about Triss? Fine. I love her, and while we do talk about the covenants, I haven't learned a thing from her that gives me any sort of power over you."

"That's good. And Jennifer?"

"She's become a good friend of mine, and a very good friend of Triss's."

Leaning in, Jacob lifted the white mask off his eyes long enough for Julias to see the empty sockets. "Beatrice is my first student in a long time, Julias. I hope you understand what that means to me."

It meant the elder was not only sharing important secrets with her, it meant Jacob was putting a lot of his value, his faith, and his beliefs, into her. That was not something elder Kindred did without reason.

"... do you believe in the Crone, Jacob?"

"That's a strange question to hear from a suit-loving Invictus."

"You're wearing a suit."

"Yes, but that's because I pull it off better than you." Leaning back, he smiled a big, Joker smile as he set the white mask over his eyes again. "Why do you ask about the Crone?"

"Because I can't tell if you actually give a shit about your religious beliefs."

"Your mistake is thinking of it as a religion. It is communication with things beyond your limited vision. And it is trading, bargaining, negotiating, and struggling with and against a force you... Words can't do it justice, unfortunately. But rest assured, Mire, I am a member of the Circle of the Crone. And that is why your constant involvement with Beatrice, and now Jennifer, is a concern. Can't you go fuck some Invictus bimbo or Carthian tomboy, instead?"

"I was fucking a Carthian tomboy, remember?"

"Oh, ha, right." He laughed, in a quiet, almost sinister sort of way. "I almost forgot. Beatrice takes to the dark corners of ritual and occult like she was bathed in it at birth."

"I... wouldn't know."

"I'm sure she's shown you some things. I never told her to keep Crúac a secret; a hopeless fool such as yourself, bound to physical objects and material possessions, is but a bumbling infant grasping for—"

"I didn't come here so you could insult me. I love Beatrice, Jen's our very good friend that we're happy to keep with us, and we keep sensitive information about each other's covenants out of our conversations. Now, what's the favor you want?"

"Patience, Mire. Patience." If the man wasn't five times Julias's age, he'd probably be hitting him right now. "But if you are so intent on ending the conversation as quickly as possible, I want the shaman."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The shaman that works for the hunters. A dangerous old woman in a wheelchair, I'm to understand. I want her."

It was Julias's turn to lean back. He raised a brow, and looked around to make sure no one was listening. At least Jacob had been smart enough to whisper.

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I? She's mastered some very disturbing and enthralling abilities." Jacob raised his glass and snapped his fingers. The waiter — Jonathan, evidently — showed up in seconds, and poured him another glass of blood. Julias's glass remained almost full. "Her age would suggest she should be dead, but she isn't. And the way she tore the dream apart at the seams was astonishing. It's a wonder Black Blood was able to catch us before we fell into... whatever it is that lies between."

So Jacob didn't know everything then. Realms between realms. Black emptiness, according to Jack. Sigh. What happened to the world he knew just a year ago? Blood and bullets, suits and cocaine, pushing around uppity Carthians, and building up Xnomina's chokehold on other businesses.

Ignorant of him. People like Jacob lived in this other world with larger-than-life concepts and entities on a regular basis. And now, Beatrice was exposing Julias to that world, to this creepy and dangerous thing that permeated the solid world he was used to. It was important he pay attention, to her, to Jacob, to all of it.