~~Jack~~
The drive back to the Prince's tower in Elysium was terrifying.
He didn't say a word. She didn't say a word. They both sat in silence in her limousine while one of her bewitched kine drove them. The woman behind the wheel, Jack noticed, was visibly nervous and made sure to keep her words short, concise, and polite. Perhaps she had never seen Antoinette angry? Her hands were shaking and stuck at the two and ten.
Jack had never seen the Prince angry, not really, and being in the limousine with her felt like being trapped in a shark cage with the shark. She looked out the window, but the beast aura she radiated crushed down against Jack with enough weight he felt his own beast being forced down into his bowels. Is this how ancient civilizations felt, when a great storm was upon them, and they all assumed they were suffering the wrath of their mighty and fickle gods?
When he dared to look at her red eyes, he had to look away quickly. She never broke her gaze from the window, but just seeing the fury in her face was enough to strike him still. Like a stake through the heart, paralyzed.
It didn't get much better once they arrived at her glass tower. The lone receptionist gave them a nod, but the man was quick to also notice the anger pouring out of every motion of the Prince. He looked away, and resumed typing with the softest but fastest typing Jack imagined possible.
And with how Antoinette was stomping forward, she didn't even check behind her to see if Jack was following. But, she'd taken him from the ball, so, into the lion's den.
They went down, and down, down the black marble of the basement levels of her great tower, past the multiple levels of complex, interwoven layers of her underground facilities, and down toward the giant vault door.
She opened it with enough snap to her movements, Jack was sure she would rip the huge thing from the wall before it slid open, and she stepped inside.
"In." Her words left no room for debate, or even a word of his own. Absolute obedience was his only option. He looked down, afraid, almost trembling, and stepped past her into the room.
He had never heard someone slam a giant vault door before, and the way it rung metal in the room created a weird roar of vibration.
"I will kill him! Kill him! I will rip out his throat, remove his limbs, and let the sun take him! I will roast his screeching body over fire! I will grind his bones into powder and -- you, sit!"
He squeaked, and sat down on the edge of her giant bed. Antoinette paced back and forth in front of him, fists clenched, and when her shoes failed to handle her stomping well, she took them into her hands and threw them at the wall so hard they flattened.
"I will open his gut and pull out each foot of his insides and feed them to him while I burn his testicles with a blow torch!" She turned then, and punched the wall. A wall of solid marble, but she punched it, and the wall cracked open for several feet in several directions. The impact forced her back several feet across the floor, but her stance did not waver, she just slid. Bruce Lee would have been jealous.
" ... Antoi—"
"What!?" She threw her gaze at him then, and he had to dig into every fiber of his being to not crumble like her shoes.
"A-Antoinette, I ... do you ... want to be alone?"
"Yes! But I will not let you leave the tower. That monster, that delusional sadist will do whatever it takes to ruin me, to destroy me, to tear away at everything I care for and he will start with those I care for." She walked over to him, and he pulled away onto the bed a few feet to give her room while she started to stomp back and forth in front of him. "Not this time. I will not let him this time. Ashley and Julee rest within their private quarters, and there they shall stay as well until this madness is over."
Not this time?
He opened his mouth, stopped himself, and considered. She said she wanted to be alone, she didn't want him here, but wanted to keep him safe. And from the way she was moving, his question would be poking the bear with a hot iron.
" ... what did Lucas do to you?"
He never was good with people.
She came to a stop, and turned to face him with heavy, slow steps. Her fists did not relent, and her eyes were wide with frenzy. She came closer, until her knees were touching the edge of the bed, and her great height cast a shadow over him.
And then he forced himself to look her in the eye. Terrified, trembling, probably would have pissed himself if he could, fucking scared to a second death, but he looked her in the eyes and kept it. He actually started to shake like a petrified, injured animal, with how intense her gaze was. Was that all he was to her right now? Just a scared mouse?
Well, fuck that, he wasn't going to just leave her to her misery, not after everything that had happened. "I can't ... even begin to understand what you're going through and angry about. It's beyond me. But I can listen."
"Understand? Listen? You are not even a year embraced!" She put both hands onto the bed and leaned toward him. Her fangs were bared, like some sort of cat ready to tear him open. "Decades, decades I worked to remove that filth! People were killed! My ... my..."
With agonizing minutes, Antoinette calmed down. He was sure they were staring at each other for years, and all he could do was try his best to not panic or crumble as he tried to smile. A sad, pathetic smile of a scared young man, but he gave it to her nonetheless. He expected a punch, maybe a harsh verbal beating, but she kept his own gaze and slowly released her fists. Her steel gaze softened, her shoulders slumped, and her mouth parted.
"You would ... you would tempt fate so?" she said.
Now she was the one who look shattered.
He gulped on nothing, inched across the bed toward her, reached out, and took her hand. She let out a small cough, as if she was holding back a sob, and gripped his fingers with her own once they were intertwined. She even tried to pull away with a weak, half-hearted effort, but he kept her hand in his, and tugged on it. Her attitude had changed as quickly as wind.
"I am sorry, my little Ventrue. What have I done, I ... must seem so horrible."
"Not horrible! Just angry. Come on, you're beautiful. Scary, terrifying even, but beautiful."
His dumb words managed to pull a chuckle from her. They held hands, like a lovey-dovey couple, and she even rubbed her thumb against his. After a while, she sat down beside him, and leaned over to rest her tilted head atop his. He could still feel rage pouring out of her, but undertones of mourning and sadness joined it.
"Ashley and Julee are precious to me. They are close friends who I share my feelings with, gossip with, and blood with." She talked, kept her head on his, and continued to stroke his thumb with hers. "Do you understand?"
"Y-yeah, I think so."
"Lucas is one of many branches of the Lancea et Sanctum beliefs and doctrines. His particular views are very ... anti-relationships with kine. His belief is that kine and Kindred are to be kept separate, and that you must not lay with them. He made an example ... of ... the ghouls I..."
He squeezed her hand. He didn't need to hear anymore, he got it. Lucas killed her ghouls.
The thought sounded so plain in his head, but when he pictured Ashley or Julee being killed -- in very likely a horrific manner -- just to hurt Antoinette? That gave the image weight, context, and it made his insides burn.
