~~Jack~~
"It's been a long time," Michael said, and he pushed open the door.
Jack, Jessy, and Damien followed. The leader of the Invictus, and the three Right Hands, together, in the home of Viktor Honors, and then later, Julias Mire. A beautiful mansion, very Victorian, with its grand entrance room and big wooden stairway with fancy railings. Hell, there was a chandelier.
It was very Viktor. It was very not Jack.
Michael stepped over to the stairs, but didn't go up. Instead, he leaned back against a railing as he folded his arms across his chest, and looked at Jack.
"As you've probably already guessed, Mister Terry, your victory against the hunters has earned you enough status to own Mister Honors's home."
"Julias's home," Jessy said. She shut up pretty quick though, when her sire glared at her.
Michael was an imposing man, big, tall, strong, with a shaved head, a nose piercing, and hints of tattoos here and there hidden under his suit. Piercings and tattoos on someone like Beatrice made them look punk and new age; not on Michael. On him, they seemed more like battle scars. He looked like a strange mix of a street fighter, and mafia boss, especially in his expensive suit.
In the past, Jack was terrified of him. He could still remember the night he met him, the same night he met Viktor and Maria, the same night he'd died, and was reborn as a vampire. Well over two years ago, holy fuck. Felt like yesterday, or an eternity ago. Which made the contrast in strength he felt between himself and Michael now, all the more powerful. Back then, his Beast had cowered in the presence of the elders. Now, he knew, if he had to fight Michael, he could.
He could destroy his boss, if he had to.
But that wasn't how the game was played. It wouldn't help Jack in any way to kill Michael, and not only that, Michael had a million connections. The man was smart, and probably had several contingency plans for dealing with Jack, including plans that'd be set off if Jack killed him. It was a smart idea to still fear the man. Plus, it'd only hurt Jack in the long run to kill his boss. He was an ally.
Ugh, he hated thinking thoughts like this. Power corrupts. At least the ravenous, insane rage and malevolence of the curse no longer infected his personality subtly. Nope, now it rode around in his head as a second personality. Lovely.
"Thank you, Mister McDonald," he said. "I... I believe I know why you've been hesitant to give me this mansion."
"Oh?" A small smile graced the man's lips. "Do tell."
"I have no thralls or ghouls." The closest he had were Scully and Mulder. They waited on the mansion's rooftop as the vampires spoke, and were utterly useless in keeping a mansion in good condition.
His boss's smile grew. "That is the primary reason, yes. Do you plan to change that?"
"I don't know if I should. I've never given my blood to another." He glanced back to Damien and Jessy, who waited quietly. Damien didn't have any thralls or ghouls either, but Mekhet often didn't. They usually flew solo. Jessy, on the other hand, had four ghouls, and probably some thralls Jack didn't even know about. But she didn't have a curse to worry about.
Ventrue lent to thralls and ghouls more than the other bloodclans. Even the Daeva didn't rely on having an army like the Ventrue did. Until Jack started building up a host of thralls, and maybe even ghouls, he wouldn't really be a Ventrue.
"Your sire, and grandsire," Damien said to him, "had ghouls and thralls. Were any of them a problem?"
Jessy shook her head. "Nope. Regular dudes and dudettes."
Sighing, Jack took a single step, and stopped. "It's not the same. The curse was sealed inside them. It's not in me, not anymore."
The room went quiet, and they all stood there for a few moments. Yeah, much as they were all damn happy the hunters were no longer a threat, the curse still was. It made every conversation where it came up get kinda awkward.
"The mansion is yours, Mister Terry," Michael continued. "As much as Madam Turio and I don't think it's a good idea to give it to you, you've earned it. Now, see to it that you do not insult your station. Acquire some thralls or ghouls to maintain it."
Jack nodded, and did his best to keep the sour expression off his face. He could Dominate some people and turn them into thralls, but using Dominate, especially on an innocent kine, would be like using a wrecking ball to open a screen door. The curse was liable to really hurt someone.
But there was another way to create a thrall. A serving of blood bent the mind of anyone, kine or Kindred, to liking the owner of said blood. A second serving, and they adored the owner. A third serving, and they became bound in the Vinculum, completely devoted or obsessed with their new master.
To create a ghoul was a similar process, except he'd have to infuse his vitae into his blood, to give the ghoul their special properties. Immortality, great regenerative abilities, and supposedly, even some minor Kindred ability if they lived long enough.
Julias gently used Dominate to create his thralls. Viktor likely enjoyed breaking kine with the Vinculum. The stark contrast between them was a painful reminder of Jack's circumstance, and he sighed as he looked down at one of his hands. He wouldn't be able to do things the way Julias did, not until he got rid of the curse, and he had no idea if that was even possible. And doing things the way Viktor did might be dangerous. Who knew what his blood would do if he fed it to someone.
If he wanted to keep the mansion, Michael was right, he needed thralls. It would be very unbecoming an Invictus to own a mansion, and let it fall into disrepair. Image was everything to the Invictus.
"I will figure something out, Mister McDonald."
"See that you do." And with that, the big guy nodded, and left.
After a heavy sigh, Jack sat down on the stairs, a few from the bottom. Damien and Jessy joined him, sitting on either side of him, and before Damien could say anything, Jessy pat him on the shoulder.
"New digs! Sweet."
Jack frowned at her. "Your sire's right. I can't keep a big fucking mansion unless I'm willing to... you know." So much easier to keep a nice, big apartment in good condition, than a fucking mansion. He hired a cleaner to take a trip through his place once a week, and even that was unnecessary. A mansion was a completely different beast, and this one had some dark secrets that demanded it be tended by thralls and ghouls, not hired help.
The Gangrel shrugged as she looked around. "Is this an ethics thing? You know there's plenty of humans in the city you can convince to accept the Vinculum before they've even had a taste, right? Just dangle the carrot of immortality in front of them, and bam, you have a thrall. If they're good at their job, upgrade them to ghoul. If they're good at that, someday, sire them."
Groaning, Jack got up, and started down the right hall. Damien and Jessy followed, and he opened a door that led further into the house. He knew his way around the mansion, a little at least, enough to know how to find things like the kitchen, some of the reading rooms, guest rooms, recreation rooms. They were all absurdly fancy. Made him think of Disney's Beauty and the Beast, the interior of the castle in the cartoon movie.
