Chapter One: A Spy In The House Of Love
May 11th 2018
Friday
8:30 p.m.
Jean Claude DuValliere stood on the edge of the crowd at the latest City Council
meeting. Although it was important for him to be there and see what was said
about the latest campaign against drugs in New Orleans, his heart wasn't really
in his task. His mind was full of worry. Worry for René, his sweet brother
who had returned to his old life in Mobile, and worry for his human wife, who
he had found out was near to death. He dwelled on her beauty, on the beauty
of their children, and sadness filled his heart when he thought of her in pain.
The same sadness consumed him over René. He had been so thankful that
his brother had saved their father, and that in turn, Spike had spared René.
Jean would have been prepared to die for his brother had it not been for his
promise to look after Baby. He would fulfil that promise; ensure that she was
happy and safe. She was his mama. The first thing he was told when he was turned
was to respect and love her, and he did. However, what she had put their family
through was inexcusable, and what he had nearly done in the office that evening
was unbearable to think of, even for a moment. Had she managed to seduce him
fully, he wouldn't have known what to do; he would have been as lost as his
brother was. Just one look in those amazing golden eyes when they stared at
you with intense passion was enough to drive any man to the brink of insanity
with want, with desire… just one look. Yet he had not let it consume him.
It was close, yes, but he stopped; that was the point. He had succeeded where
his brother failed, and yet he admired his brother for being able to control
himself for so long. If Baby had acted towards Jean the way she did with René,
Jean would have probably folded twice as soon as his brother had. Baby just
seemed to have a profound effect on any man that saw her.
As for René, well, Jean understood Baby's attraction to him also. René was the most spectacular man Jean had ever met, and by far the most handsome. René had the looks to rival Spike's own, and his sire was perfection, but to Jean, René took first place. He was loyal to his father, but his brother was the one who had stolen his heart. He had memorised every facet of René's body, each look, each sweet touch, so that he would be able to recall the moments that they had spent with each other in complete clarity. The feel of René completing him was the most amazing feeling Jean had ever felt. René was his world, and he loved him endlessly. The mischief they would succumb to, and the effects of it on the two brothers, were highly rewarding, at least to Jean. When he had felt René's mouth close around his length and his brother had brought him to completion, Jean felt whole. The honour of René doing that to him was overwhelming. It was then, though, that he knew that he would never have Rene for his own, for his brother's heart belonged only to Baby. René had loved Baby from the beginning, he felt the same way for her as Jean did for René, and although René allowed Jean to love him, they would never be together.
Then there was Olivia, his wonderful Olivia that understood him more than any other. She understood that instead of using violence he channelled his energies through sex, regardless of whether it was with her or not. Knowing that he wasn't a violent man allowed her to accept the fact that she was not the only one who shared his bed, or his heart. She wasn't proud of it, or happy about it, but she understood. He always came back to her arms. If Jean could love Olivia fully, he would gladly take her as consort and wife; but he would not do that while he loved others more than her. To do that would be unfair to them both. Nevertheless, he did love Olivia, just not enough.
Jean was stirred out of his reverie by the feeling of someone staring at him. He was used to people looking at him, being as he was a handsome man, but this feeling was intense; it was almost as if he was being meticulously studied. He glanced around to see if he could find who was watching him so intently, and he saw her. She was a young woman, no more than twenty-five or -six, her long brown hair curled behind her ears to reveal her face. She was tall, and her eyes were piercing. He had seen her before, on several occasions when he had been out either on his own, or with the family. She was obviously spying on him for a reason, and a person spying on the family was unnerving, especially if the 'spy' relayed what information they had back to someone who could compromise the safety of the Pride. Back at home, the family were relatively safe; though since their recent encounter with the Watchers Council, Jean had been particularly cautious to look out for anything unusual. Her being where he was on several occasions, well, that was unusual. He looked away, hoping that she didn't disappear. He needed to find out who she was.
---
Anne Bridger entered the city hall through the side door. She knew instinctively that the man she sought would be at the meeting; he was always at important gatherings. This meeting could have an extreme effect on New Orleans. Political meetings always attracted the Pride's attention, especially where drugs were involved. If the outcome was such that it would affect their rule on the city, arrangements would need to be made to ensure that nothing could tie the Pride to the mafia and drug dealers.
Anne prided herself on her knowledge of the family. Her mother would have been proud of her if she was still alive, very proud. She had made a new life for herself in New Orleans, and had extended her studies on the family of William the Bloody in the process. She knew more about them than any ordinary citizen could. The Pride were powerful and loyal. They fought for the side of good by choice. Those who were turned were taught love and respect, especially for the alpha female, known only by the name Baby. She was a curious vampire who had fought bravely and ferociously, side by side with Spike and their family. That in itself was intriguing, this once-human woman possessing such violence and yet showing such affection for her partner. Admittedly, it was well known that lots of violence tended to 'turn on' the un-dead, but something must have been there to spark that sexual intensity to begin with. It wasn't just coincidence.
*Who could blame her, though* she thought as she strode through the crowd. *He is the legendary William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, and extremely sexy to boot.*
As she glided
through the crowd, she spotted who she was looking for. He was so handsome,
even with just a profile view. She knew his face, of course; she had studied
it intently. His deep chocolate-brown eyes, his dark hair; she knew almost every
line, every curve. She could see why he had so many lovers, she had often seen
him with various women and men, drinking, having a good time at late night parties.
More often than not, she had seen him with his companion Olivia, and occasionally
with his brother René, another handsome man in the family, both of whom
looked spectacular at his side.
René had recently left the city, though she had no idea why, but Jean
had looked more and more troubled since his brother had gone. Tonight he looked
particularly sad, as if he was dwelling on the past, thinking about the future,
and getting the two confused. She didn't like seeing him like that. The pain
etched on his face was unsettling, although it was only there for the slightest
of moments. When he looked up from his thoughts, he turned and looked right
at her. Her heart pounded against her breast at the sheer intensity of it. Their
eyes locked, and for a split second, she could see why so many people were drawn
to him, as either lovers or friends. She brushed her long hair from her face
and tucked it behind her ears before smiling slightly and turning away. He had
recognised her. She would stay for the remainder of the meeting to try and not
look conspicuous and then she would leave as quickly and as quietly as possible.
She had come too far in her research for her to fail now.
---
Jean noticed the young woman's slight smile as he looked away from her. She seemed perfectly normal. Had he not recognised her from various locations in the city, he would have taken her for a meek young girl simply taking part in local activities; making herself part of the community. Recently, however, too much had happened for him to take that chance. If it meant the safety of the family, he would find out as much about her as possible. He had the resources to do just that, but it would be easier with a name. Slowly, he weaved his way through the crowd.
When he reached the woman, he tapped her gently on the shoulder, and was startled when she turned to him without as much as a flinch.
"Oh my…" she stammered, in an almost-whisper. "Le prince de la métropole!"
Jean's advanced hearing noticed the last comment and he smiled slightly.
"And you are?" he asked the woman.
"Anne… Anne Bridger. It is an honour to meet you."
"What brings you to this particular meeting?"
*Goodness he is stunning, no wonder he is a legend* thought Anne. "I always take particular interest in these matters. After all, the city is our responsibility."
Jean didn't miss the use of 'our'; it intrigued him to know what it was this woman did. "And what do you usually do, when you are not at conventions concerning the city?"
"I own and run 'Bizarre', the accessories shop in the French Quarter. Most of my time is spent there."
"So you're the infamous owner," he stated, raising his eyebrows and looking at her with surprise.
"Infamous? Highly unlikely…"
"Well, you're
known around the city, n'est-ce pas? What is it they call you again?"
"It doesn't matter what they call me. It's just the way I am. I don't mean
to be rude, but if you don't mind, I'd like to go and speak to the representative
for a moment. I have some suggestions for him."
"Oh please... mademoiselle. I apologise. I meant no offence; I was merely trying to recall the name I heard for you. Please, sit a while with me? Start again?" His voice was husky, seductive almost; it beckoned her to him and she found herself smiling.
"No, I apologise; I'm just rather paranoid, I'm afraid. I really must remember that not everyone sees me in the way that most do."
"And what way is that, mademoiselle?" Jean questioned as he manoeuvred them to a quieter corner of the hall, his body brushing against her own as they moved. This woman intrigued him. Not only because of her interest in his family but because there was something about her…something that made Jean want to know her deepest secrets.
"They see me as a recluse, as an outsider of the city. It's like I don't belong here with them. I can't even comprehend how they can even think …I mean…" She trailed off when her eyes locked with Jean's. He had big chocolate eyes that made her want to melt, just peeking out from under his lashes, so obviously looking into her own.
"Well, Anne, some people only see what they want to."
"That is very true, too true…" *Is it hot in here, or am I just experiencing a tropical moment? If he keeps staring at me like that, I shall have to skirt off to the powder room. This will not do, Anne, you're not here to flirt with the Pride, you're here to study them. Which he has obviously noticed, or you would not be sitting here with the son of William the Bloody, who is a master vampire by the way, acting as if everything is peaches and cream. And you have no idea why he came to talk to you. You've been busted; just admit it and go home. Urrgh, I really need to get a new inner voice.*
Suddenly, she found herself far too close to the vampire and pulled herself out of her thoughts to another question from him.
"So, what is it that makes you different from them? What do you believe that they don't?"
"I believe that there is a wide range of things that people can be blind to," she replied, clearing her throat. "And I believe that it is getting awfully late and that I must really leave for home. If you'll excuse me, I shall go and call for a cab."
"It is not necessary, mademoiselle; I shall drive you to your door. If you feel you can trust me, that is?" he asked, sidling closer to her. His arm grazed against her own, and her heart began to race.
"Well, it would be most unusual for me to accept such a proposition under normal circumstances, but I do trust you, Jean Claude DuValliere, so I shall accept your very kind invitation."
"Perfect then… I shall bring the car around to the front of the hall, Anne Bridger."
As the vampire walked away from the young Englishwoman, his eyes flashed yellow. For someone who seemed so intelligent and articulate, she was awfully naïve. She had just agreed to go home with a vampire. Obviously, she had known who he was, she had called him a prince, and had used his name, and she obviously thought that because she was a woman, she would fool him. She was wrong. If Jean found that she planned to harm his family, he would kill her without thought; his father need not be involved unless it became extremely unavoidable for him not to be. He would find out what he wanted to know, even if he had to play nicely and take her to bed to do it. He would find out what she knew.
---
Anne Bridger stood at the edge of the hall, trying to calm her nerves; she was obviously in deep trouble. He may have spotted her watching the family on several occasions. It was not a coincidence that he had spoken to her this evening, nor was it one that he had offered to take her home. The Prince of the City never took anything lightly. If he believed that she was endangering his family or himself, she would be joining her mother sooner than she had planned to. Calming her breathing, she relaxed into a meditation for a while before her heart rate steadied. Looking outside, she saw Jean standing by a black car, and tried to force her imagination to dissipate the visions that had invaded it. She moved toward the exit slowly, but with purpose. If she had to, she would tell him everything, even if it resulted in her death. Without fear, she left the hall, and stepped into the car, meeting Jean's eyes as he held the door open for her.
---
During the drive to the French Quarter, time seemed to drag. The classical sounds of Brahms played out on the car stereo, echoing throughout the interior. Jean's eyes had met her own only a few times and the only conversation that had occurred had been short, and merely to give the address of Anne's apartment. The night sky was carpeted with stars, and the moon was low, reflecting its beams on the rooftops of the buildings. Had Anne not had a keen eye, she would never have noticed the shadowed figures that bounded across them. Some of the Pride were obviously out on the hunt.
They were a remarkable sight when they were together. A tight unit of fighters, hunting with purpose, a purpose to protect the innocent, and sate their bloodlust... Spike was a magnificent hunter and spectacular when fighting. He moved with a feline-like grace that Anne had never seen. She remembered her mother telling her of when she met him in Sunnydale; how he moved like a panther, how seductive he had seemed, just by speaking. The tales of how he had fought with the Slayer against her foes had been a marvel to study, though Anne doubted that they had been documented correctly. Seeing him enforce his wrath was another thing entirely. She had occasionally caught a glimpse of him circling his opponent, seen the glint in his eye before he moved to attack. It had been extremely difficult to get close enough to see him do just that. She had to constantly be aware of her location and the Pride's to avoid being seen, and the excitement of watching them thrilled Anne almost as much as it did to imagine what Spike would look like when he killed.
---
Jean pulled the car to a stop just outside the shop in the Quarter. The abrupt halt as well as the feel of a cool hand on her neck shocked Anne back to reality. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring into a human face with golden ones.
Jean's demeanour screamed violence, although he spoke evenly. "I think we need to have a little chat, don't you… Anne?"
"I realised that you would do something like this," she replied.
Her straightforwardness startled Jean, and he pulled away from her.
Anne's heart was pounding with worry for her life; she was scared of death. However, she was not scared of Jean. She calmed her breathing down before she spoke. "I just want you to know that I'm not scared. I believe that you are a good man. I believe that you will receive your redemption. I will answer your questions and then you can kill me if you wish. What do you want to know?"
Jean looked at her with a frown. Confusion was evident on his features. He had tensed and withdrawn slightly from the conversation.
"What's wrong? You look… odd. Not bumpy-vampire-face odd, just odd, in general…Why on earth are you looking at me like that?"
Jean relaxed into the car seat. *Bumpy-vampire-face indeed* he thought. He chuckled lightly. "It doesn't matter, you just shocked me. I was expecting you to be afraid." He moved closer to her, invading her personal space; their faces were inches apart--he could feel her warm breath on his cheek, and he shuddered. His voice was even and deep when he spoke again. "Why aren't you afraid? You know who I am, you know what I am, you expect me to kill you, and yet you are perfectly calm. Why?"
Anne pulled away from him, unbuckled her seatbelt and looked over at the oldest childe of William the Bloody.
"I do believe," she said calmly, "that you are in need of a drink. I know that I am. Perhaps you would like to come inside and we could discuss this matter further?"
Jean nodded and Anne opened the car door and got out, turning to see if Jean had followed. Happy that he had taken her up on her invitation, and feeling slightly more at ease with the vampire than she had done previously, she lead him to the entrance of her home, at the side of the shop, and put the key into the door lock. As the door opened, she entered, waiting for him to join her.
"Are you coming in or not?" she asked. Then, realising she would have to formally invite him, she said, "I invite you into my home Jean Claude DuValliere, Prince of the City of New Orleans, Childe of William the Bloody."
Jean looked at Anne curiously before he stepped through the now non-existent barrier. He moved further into the hallway, and closed the solid oak door behind him.
May 11th 2018
Friday
10:00 p.m.
The Master of New Orleans stared out into the beautiful gardens of his home, contemplating events of recent times. He was proud of his family; through all of their difficulties, they had managed to stay together as a unit. So much had happened to him since he first met his lover that it almost seemed unreal at times, as if he was in a never-ending fantasy that had given him as much heartbreak as he would have had if he had stayed in Sunnydale. Baby had loved him so much. She had saved him with her knowledge; allowed him to find his true potential as a master vampire and shown him that he could earn the love and respect of his family without using Angelus' methods. Instead of torture, rape, and commanding brutality, Spike showed his children love and taught them to respect. The first thing they were taught when they were turned was to respect and love Baby above all other, and though sometimes Spike wondered if that had been a foolish thing to do, he would never have changed it. No matter what happened, Baby would be respected and loved. The only thing that mattered apart from that was that she was happy, and at the moment, there weren't many members of his family that were, least of all Baby.
René had gone, which was for the best, at least in Spike's opinion. His affairs with Baby had been more than displeasing to the master vampire. Particularly because he loved René and, more often than not, had felt like killing the man. However, he understood that his wife and his son shared a connection; one that he could never equal. Baby loved him, and adored him, but her heart belonged to his son, perhaps more than she realised. Every day Baby was apart from René, Spike's relationship with her suffered just that little bit more. She seemed withdrawn from him. He still lavished attention upon her, and cared for her more than anyone, but nothing seemed to console her. She just didn't seem to need him. Sex was still good, but it had turned into just that. Sex. Spike remembered the times when he and Baby used to make love before she was turned. The soft touches that meant more than words could convey. The sensual kisses and licks that made them both tremble with desire for one another. The sweet warmth that encompassed him when he entered her. Names tumbling mindlessly from lips as he released his seed into her depths. The looks and butterfly kisses that they shared while they bathed in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Falling asleep wrapped in the arms of a warm body. Lulled by a heartbeat into a land of dreams where no fantasy could match the reality he lived.
Baby was a vampire now; her warmth had gone. She was a demon; that much was obvious when she had lost her soul. Uninhibited, she had been a vile temptress and murderer. As manipulative as she was ordinarily, she was much worse when her demon came to the surface. She was magnificent though. She had become what Spike had moulded her into. He had taught her to revel in the hunt and the kill, and she had. He had taught her the cruelty and the violence that she was capable of, and she had found it. He had shown her that she had true potential as a vampire, just as she had shown him that he could be so much more than he was. And although he would never wish that they had never met and that his life was not as it was, he missed the part of her that needed and desired him more than the world. He missed not seeing her smile in the sunlight and dance in the shadows. He missed being her everything.
Spike stood, picked up his glass from the table and moved through the patio doors into the garden and looked into the night sky, he took a sip from his glass of bourbon and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. He hadn't smoked for a while, but he always had a packet with him. He took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth and lit it. He took a drag, and inhaled deeply, relishing in the taste of the tobacco. As he exhaled, he sighed, and his thoughts turned to his family once more.
---
Jean climbed the stairs to Anne's 'shop-top' apartment, and followed her into the living area. He had expected it to be small, but the way was decorated made it extremely spacious. Mahogany bookshelves, each holding a mixture of modern and ancient texts, lined the cream coloured walls. Crystal decanters and glasses stood elegantly on the dark-wood bar top where Anne stood. The recliners were mahogany also, and covered with brown leather. The cushions, heavy cream coloured cotton, but plain, not patterned. There was nothing chintzy about the apartment, as Jean would have expected from an English woman. She had style, and taste. There were oil paintings on the wall opposite the bookshelves, by an artist that Jean didn't recognise. It was homey and comforting.
"Bourbon isn't it?" Anne asked, handing a glass tumbler to Jean. "Please, sit down. You're making me nervous."
Jean smiled and sat on the sofa, Anne followed closely, sitting in the chair nearest to him.
"So, what do you want to know?" She asked.
"Why are you following my family? Why are you following me? Who are you working for? The questions are endless, mademoiselle. You are intriguing, and I doubt you have any idea what you have gotten into by inviting me into your home as you did. You do realise that by formal invitation, that a general de-invite spell will not work? Do you not?"
"Endless is a lot of questions. And yes, I understand perfectly what the implications of formally inviting you into my home are. I also doubt that I am as intriguing as you imagine Jean Claude. As for your questions," Jean growled, and she looked at him and continued. "You will have your answers." She sipped at her own drink of apple schnapps, and looked at the vampire. Seeing she had his attention, she began to tell her story.
---
Jean arrived home a few hours later to find his father outside on the garden reading a book. Spike looked upset; his whole posture screamed, "I'm unhappy". It worried Jean that he felt that way. No man should have to go through what his sire had gone through recently. He had gone to Hell to bring his wife back to him, and only to find that he no longer had her, not really. Jean understood that loss; it mirrored his own. Rene was everything to him, just as Baby had become everything to his father. Spike had been withdrawn lately. To any other member of the family, it would look as if his own thoughts had consumed him and he was refusing to let himself be happy, but Jean knew the truth. The first childe was much more perceptive than he was given credit for. He could feel, perhaps more than others could when Spike was unhappy. Of course, the Master put on an act towards everyone; he had to ensure the family believed he was fine, but he wasn't. Baby was slowly breaking his heart. It had almost destroyed Spike when he had to turn her, and it didn't help that Angelus was involved. So much effort and caring on his part when Baby was human, and now that she was a vampire, he wanted it all back to how it used to be. It was a shame.
"Jean… Why are you so late? I was worried."
"You know you need not worry for me, Papa. I am fine. Always fine."
"Come here and sit with me a while, son." Spike said, gesturing to the chair next to his.
Jean moved over and sat down next to his father. Spike took his hands and looked up at him.
"I don't want to lose you son. I know you are more than capable of protecting yourself, Jean, but I do worry. I always worry."
"Papa," Jean said in an almost whisper. "You know I love you, yes? I just want to see you happy again. These past few weeks, you have been half of what you were. Half of what you are. You should not be like this. Is there anything I can do? Can I help?"
"Oh Jean, I wish you could. You are a fine vampire, and my finest child. You need to help yourself before you can help anyone else, and I doubt even then that you could help me."
"Papa…"
"No Jean, don't… I know you love him. I know what René means to you. I can only wish that someday, you find someone who loves you as much in return." Spike saw the hurt on his child's face, and raised his hand to Jean's cheek. "I will always be here for you Jean. You don't need to hide things from me. If you need me, I'm here…"
"I know, Papa; merci."
"Now, why don't you retire to bed hey? You look like you've had a rough night. Which reminds me, what happened at the meeting?"
"Oh, sorry father, it slipped my mind to tell you. Nothing that was discussed tonight will affect us; it was just a simple 'planning' meeting. Nothing we can't handle should the plans actually work this time. And they never usually do."
Spike smiled at the last comment.
"Very well then. I trust your judgement. Go, rest now. I'll still be here tomorrow."
"Goodnight, papa."
"Goodnight, Childe."
As Jean entered the lounge from outside, he turned to look at his father. Spike's head was low, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Then he picked up his book, and sat back into the recliner. Jean sighed, and went over to the bar, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. He left the lounge with one last glance to the garden, and climbed the stairs to his room.
---
Anne Bridger sat in her study sipping her drink of schnapps, contemplating the evening. She could hardly believe that she had spoken to a vampire for three hours, let alone that said vampire was the Prince of the City and childe to William the Bloody. She took out her diary and fountain pen and began her writings of the evening's events.
---
Jean sat down at his desk, and opened his laptop. He brought up a new file and started typing. He needed to find out who Anne Bridger really was. Out of everything she had said that evening, not all rang true. If she was lying to him, he would find out…
Name: Anne Bridger
Born: London, England, 14/08/1992
Age: 25
Mother: Elisabeth Bridger - killed in a car accident -Jjanuary 2018
Father: Henry Bridger - location unknown
Studies: Vampirology, demonology, the occult, magicks, mystical occurrences,
natural phenomenon. Particularly interested in vampires - namely us. Has extensive
knowledge of father and the family, including hunting routines and areas.
As Jean typed, his mind was consumed with thoughts of Anne and how she had told her story so willingly. Something wasn't right; no one with that much knowledge could just study for fun. He was convinced that there was other reasoning behind her interest in the family. He hacked into the city information database and entered her information.
Anne Bridger. Proprietor of Bizarre. Moved to New Orleans in February 2018.
It was a dead end.
*Her eyes pierced into me, almost as if she was trying to become part of me* Jean thought. *Maybe she's a mage… no, she would never have risked inviting me to her home, or following us. And she wouldn't have been caught, she would have used a cloaking spell. Mm,*
He accessed the Pride's informant database and sent out a priority message.
Seeking information:
Name: Anne
Bridger
Born: London, England.
Hair : Brown
Eyes: Blue
Build: Medium.
She is currently in New Orleans, and I want whatever information you can find about her. Her employer, previous work history, lover, previous residences, anything! This is urgent; and should be marked as top priority. I will handle the surveillance.
JDV
The three hours Jean had spent with Anne had been pleasant, and in that time, she had managed to tell him only a small amount about herself. The main point of conversation had been about his family. It was astounding to realise just how much she knew, especially about his father. She knew of Spike's time in Sunnydale, and how he had left there and built his Master Vampire status in the city of New Orleans. She knew about Wolfram and Hart and how they had killed Spike, only for Baby to force them to bring him back. She knew about his recent trip to Hell to rescue his wife, and she knew about the Watcher's Council, and that the Powers had disbanded them. *She must be very good at her job, whatever that is.* Jean thought as he hit the send button on his computer. *I wonder who it is she's working for. She seems too… nice to work for Wolfram and Hart. She knows so much, she has to get her information from somewhere.*
---
Inside her home, Anne entered her bedroom, she moved over to the cabinet in the far corner, and slid it away from the wall. There, she opened the small door in the wall, revealing a little cabinet. She took from it a large leather bound book, its pages uneven and worn with time. As she turned the cover, she inhaled the scent of old. Leather and worn paper brought back memories of her mother, how she had watched her marking entries in this very book when she was younger. Anne had looked through this book a thousand times, and yet her eyes always fell on the same page time and time again. Jean had smelled of good cologne and old books. Her mother had smelled of Bergamot perfume and old books. Anne smiled to herself as she wondered if William the Bloody would smell just like the tome she held. She believed he would. Her imagination brought forth a sensation of old leather and paper, with an underlying scent of spice and musk, and she sighed. Turning the pages, her eyes fell on the one she always admired. Her mother's artistic impression of Spike, as seen in Sunnydale when she had been there so long ago. Anne was only nine years old then, but she distinctly remembered watching her mother draw the wonderful sketch of what she considered the Blond God. How she had captured a spark of his beauty in charcoal, a hint of masculinity, and a touch of his feline grace. Anne traced her finger across the perfectly angled cheekbones and down to the neck of the face on the picture. She sighed again, and closed the tome, placing it gently back into it's place in the hollow of the wall.
Chapter Three: The Still of the Night
May 22nd 2018
Tuesday
11:00 p.m.
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce entered the living area of La Maison du Rouge s'Elevé, awaiting the arrival of his ladylove Drusilla, to accompany him on the evening hunt. He sat down and patiently waited, his thoughts dwelling on his dark beauty. Drusilla consumed his being. If it weren't for her, he may have been taken from this life before he had realised his true capabilities, as both a mage and a lover. Memories of her caresses filled his mind; the times they had tortured together and fucked each other until the sun had come up afterwards. He loved the feel of her skin on his, and the taste of her blood on his lips. Everything about Drusilla was exhilarating to him. It had been true while he was her human consort, and was even more so now that he was a vampire. He contemplated his own tendencies to violence and torture, how he had come to accept the darkness within him, and he smiled cruelly. Without his love, he would only have ever been half the man he was, and he was truly grateful for what he was now. His thoughts turned to recent events, whereby the Watcher's Council had been disbanded by the Powers That Be. With his extensive knowledge of the way the Council conducted their affairs, Wesley was certain that this was not the last they would hear from the Watchers. His encounters and dealings with them when he was a Watcher himself were more than enough proof of that fact. The Council were vigilantes. Most were willing to take the law of the unnatural into their own hands. Very few members of the Council actually played 'by the book' and very few were nice people. In Wesley's opinion, he was surprised that most were even considered human. The violations he had seen performed on vampires and demons in the name of research had chilled him to the bone when he was employed there; now he doubted he would blink twice at their activities, but if family was involved, well that was a different matter entirely. If something did happen and they laid one hand on Dru, he would rip them apart with his bare hands. No one hurt what was his. No one.
Wesley's thoughts were disturbed when he caught Drusilla's scent on the air. She smelled of roses and sweetened honey, with the slightest hint of him still on her. He turned to see her gliding through the entrance towards him. She looked like a goddess. Even when she knew they were going out on the hunt she wore a flowing dress that made her look like an ancient icon of beauty. She was magnificent. Excellence flowed from her aura. She was a very different Drusilla to the one he had first seen. Almost sane, but capable enough to control her visions, she was a spectacular creature. And she was his. As she neared Wesley, he stood, sweeping her into his arms, and capturing her mouth with his own. As their tongues duelled with each other for dominance, he was rewarded with a low moan from his lover. He pulled them both into a sitting position and brought her closer. She was aroused, he could smell her. He trailed his hand across the inside of her thigh roughly enough to be felt underneath the material of her dress, and she moaned into his mouth again, rubbing herself against him seductively.
"Now, now people… There's plenty of time for that later!"
"Spike!" Wesley sputtered as he pulled away from Drusilla. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Well, that's obvious, mate, you didn't hear any of us."
Wesley blinked and looked around the room. Baby was leaning against the wall to the foyer, and Jean Claude was watching intently from her side, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Wesley smirked.
"Yes well, let's go hunting then, shall we?" He asked as he lifted Drusilla from her position on his lap. He stood and offered her his hand. "My love?" Drusilla took it, and smiled at Spike as they walked past him.
Spike addressed Baby. "Anyone would think this was an open house, eh love."
She nodded, but didn't smile at his words. She was looking at him, but it felt as if she was looking through him, as if she wasn't really there. Spike sighed and shook his head. "Ready to go then, dove?" Baby nodded.
---
The night was dark and cold. The chill of the breeze sliced through the air and cut at Anne's cheeks as she followed the Pride from below the rooftops they were gliding across. They had sensed something, she was sure of it. Keeping her distance, she watched and followed where the pack led. It was a small group tonight, though they were more than capable. Wesley and Drusilla led the hunt, with Jean, Spike and Baby following close behind. As Wesley and Drusilla headed off in a different direction, Jean followed slowly, leaving Spike and Baby behind with a nod of his head. The two vampires climbed down the side of the building they were on using the fire stairs, and proceeded to walk at a fair pace up the street, heading towards where the others would be. Anne thought that they must have been heading off an assailant of some sort. She followed the Master and his consort at a distance, stopping only once to tie her shoelace. When she looked up, they were gone. Quickening her pace, she crossed the street and watched for signs of the vampires. A few moments later, she heard voices coming from an alley to the side of her. She leaned into the wall, shadowed by the building's height, and listened. She didn't notice that she too was being followed.
---
Jean Claude had recognised Anne's scent as soon as he had left the house, so he had been expecting her to follow the family on the hunt. After his conversation with her the previous evening, he had thought that she would steer clear of the Pride and their business. She was obviously more stubborn than he had thought. So far his research on her had turned up nothing but dead ends. Everyone had come back to him with the same information. She was just a normal girl who had lost her mother and come to New Orleans to start a new life. Still, Jean knew that there was something more to her than there seemed to be, and he had been watching her when he wasn't needed by the family. He had visited her on two occasions since the council meeting. It was hard to believe that he had met her a little over a week ago and she hadn't succumbed to his charms and taken him to her bed. What extra information he had gained from her was merely about her life as a child, and her affection for her mother. Anne had been devastated when her mother had died, so much so that she had moved out of England and come to New Orleans. Anne herself studied vampires and demons with particular interest, believing that some were not evil or monstrous, and that in fact, they were quite the opposite, and just wanted to live in relative peace and harmony. Jean admired how she could believe so strongly in something that had not been proven, but he wasn't so sure that it was true for all vampires and demons. He also thought that such a belief may be why she had chosen the Pride for her studies. Anne was extremely open-minded, and expertly in tune with the energies of nature; she honed them, and used them in her own life, and the lives of others. She was intelligent, and intellectual, revelling in her extensive range of literary knowledge, and although she knew much more about the supernatural than other people did, she was still a normal woman. She woke early and opened her shop, closed for lunch, assisted those who asked for help and then seemingly continued as normal. But behind the doors to her study were ancient texts and enchanted weaponry which mapped out her secret life, a life that was just for her, a life of research on his family.
He watched her as she crossed the street, taking her place after a while in the shadows of a building, and moved towards her. He could hear Spike and Baby arguing, and it was obvious that Anne was eavesdropping. If she was found, her life could be endangered. Jean placed his hand around her mouth and pulled her away from the alley.
---
"Why are you doing this to yourself, love? I can't stand to see you like this. You're destroying yourself over *him* and you shouldn't. I'm your husband. I love you. Please Baby, tell me what's wrong."
"You wouldn't understand. It's not just René, it's everything. Since I died…since I was turned," she corrected herself, "things haven't been the same. You say I'm distant," she said, sarcasm dripping from her icy tone. "Why don't you look in the mirror, you can do that now."
"Dove, please, don't do this. We've been doing okay for a while, haven't we? Why are you acting this way? Half the time you can't even bear to look at me. Where's that fire? That spark that you used to have? When did you get so cold?"
"I'm all burned out, Spike, I don't have the energy for you anymore. You coddle me, you try to protect and take care of me. Well, I don't need to be taken care of," she said, "not now, not ever. You don't need to mother me, you don't need to comfort me; I just want you to let me be what I am. Let me be a vampire!"
Spike moved closer to her and reached out his arms. "Please love, come to me now."
Baby shrugged away from his touch, and turned away from him. He stepped back, as if burned. "Just let me be, Spike… Let me be…"
Spike lowered his head and turned away. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand, and sensed Jean nearby. He hoped his son had not overheard the conversation. Moving away from Baby, he left the alley, and came face to face with Jean talking to a human woman.
---
"What are you doing here, mademoiselle? I told you to be cautious, to not follow too closely. Did you not pay attention to a single word I said? There is danger here on the street. You could be killed."
"I'm sorry, Jean… I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to…"
"I understand you like watching Papa, but his business with Maman is personal, it is not for your research. Anne, you have to understand. It is hard for the family now, especially Papa and Maman; just promise you will not do this again."
Anne contemplated
his suggestion and her eyes grew wide as she looked over Jean's shoulder.
*Oh my! That's what Mother meant when she spoke of his walk. He is astounding.*
Jean turned around as he saw the look on Anne's face.
"What's going on, Jean? Do you know this girl?"
"Yes Papa, I do. I was just reminding her that it is not safe to be alone at night in these parts."
Spike looked at his son and at the woman with him. It certainly seemed that they had known each other for a while, but Jean had never mentioned anyone but Olivia to him. This woman had a spark in her, something that pierced into him through her eyes. She was not afraid, nor was she at ease. There was something about her that intrigued Spike.
"And you are, miss?"
"I'm Anne," she said simply, as she held out her hand.
Spike eyed her curiously then placed his hand in hers and was rewarded with a firm shake. He felt the warmth of the touch dissipate as she moved her hand back to her side.
"Nice to meet you, Anne. I suggest you take Jean's advice. It isn't safe here. You must always take heed. Jean, take her home. It's getting late."
"Oui, Papa…"
Spike watched Jean guide Anne across and down the street until they were out of view.
"Baby, are you coming?"
The vampiress emerged from the shadows and she and Spike wandered off into the night.
---
A few hours after arriving home from the hunt, Spike was lying awake in bed; rest wouldn't come to him. He moved the covers, stood and slipped into his robe. He walked downstairs and into the lounge, poured a drink, lit a cigarette and went outside to the garden. He lifted his head and looked up to the stars. *Destiny is written in the stars* he thought. *Yeah right, everything happens for a reason, pfft.* He exhaled the smoke, and sighed. He seemed to spend most of his time out in the garden these days, alone with his thoughts of the past and the future. Thoughts of Buffy and Baby and René. Thoughts of Jean and Claudia. All the pain and suffering of his family, and for what? For destiny? As much as he didn't want to believe it, he knew it was true. Everything did happen for a reason. For destiny.
He finished his cigarette, and gulped his bourbon down with one tilt of the glass; it burned at his insides and made him feel warm; it was a feeling he missed more than anything.
The sound of the phone ringing stirred him out of his reverie. Worried at who would be calling this late he rushed inside and picked up the receiver.
"Yeah, what?"
"Hello, Spike?"
"Yes, it's me, Giles."
"I'm sorry for calling so late, but it seems I have a problem."
"What do you want from me?"
"My informant was murdered. Horribly."
"Vampires, demons? How can I help you with that?"
"No, she was murdered by members of the Council when they discovered she was relaying information to me about your family. She was the one who gave me the details of the Council's attack."
"Murdered by members of the Council? But they've been disbanded, how is that a problem?"
"It's not actually her I'm calling about, it's her daughter. She's in extreme danger and I have exhausted all of my contacts searching for her. She seems to have left England. I had hoped that you could use your resources to try and track her down, see if she is in America."
"I suppose I could do that; you've helped me before now, I can return the favour. I'll need as much information as you have on her, though. This'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack."
"Yes, quite. I had the same problem; she just seems to have disappeared. I'll instant e-mail the file to you right away."
"Ok Rupert, anything else?"
"No, that's it. Oh and Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
Spike placed the phone back on its hook and waited for the transmission to complete. Just as the file started loading, Jean walked in through the door.
"Jean, could you come over here, please?" Spike asked.
"What is it, Papa?"
Spike turned his laptop round to face his son.
"Isn't that the woman you were with tonight?"
May 23rd 2018
Wednesday
1:00 a.m.
Jean looked at the picture before him, shimmering in the lamp light of his father's
desk. The picture was obviously Anne, but she looked younger.
"Oh Papa, what is that? Where did you find this?"
"Giles sent it to me. He wants me to find her and protect her. It would have saved us both a lot of time if I could have told him, 'No problem, Ripper, Jean's already on top of the situation. Literally.'" Spike's tone was stern and accusing. "Is there something you're not telling me, Jean?" Spike asked. "If you are hiding something from me, tell me now. We've had this discussion before; I will not tolerate you keeping things from me."
"Father, I'm not…" Jean hung his head, and sat down on the chair opposite Spike. "There is not much to tell, not really."
Spike handed his son a glass of bourbon. "Then tell me what you know."
"Oui, Papa; may I look at that please?"
Spike nodded and moved to let Jean take his seat, watching as he read through the information that Giles had sent about Anne.
"I first met Anne at the city meeting I attended two weeks ago. I had seen her around before, and thought she was spying on us, so I tried to find out what I could about her."
"And what did you find?"
Jean turned from the computer screen and looked at his father. "Nothing; well, not much, just what I already knew. There was no threat, and she's a nice girl, so we got to talking. She knows so much about us, Papa; she has unimaginable resources on the family. I thought we were in no danger. That's why I didn't tell you. I didn't mean to… if I had known who she was, if she had told me, I would've… Women! Why do they always have to make things complicated?"
"You like her?"
"Yes, I like her; not like that, but in another way, a way I can't explain. I knew there was something about her, I just couldn't place it. What do you want me to do?"
"She's in danger, Jean, she needs help. What do you think you should do?"
"Help her…"
"Then help her, then."
"What will you tell Giles, Papa?"
"Nothing, yet. You get her here, and I'll talk to Giles another time."
Jean looked back at Anne's file and shook his head. He couldn't believe that she had kept so much from him; he had thought they had become close enough for her to trust him with such information. He clicked the print command, and walked over to the printer.
"What are you doing?" Spike asked.
"Taking proof."
Spike nodded and left his son alone in the lounge. Jean had been through a hard enough time recently, losing René, and discovering that his human wife was ill. Spike hoped that this didn't cause him more heartbreak. He obviously liked Anne; the question was just how much.
---
Anne was in her room when she heard the knock at the door. It was late; there was only one person who would call as late as this. Something must have happened.
She went downstairs and opened the door, being abruptly pushed backwards by Jean, who looked anxious and angry. His eyes glared at her as he backed her into the wall, slamming the door behind him.
"Jean? What's the matter? What's the meaning of this?" Anne asked, her nerves frazzled and her voice shaky.
Jean held up the picture of her and growled. "You lied to me; you're one of them. You work for the Council; you're spying on my family. I should kill you now. No--I should have killed you then."
Anne's face paled, and tears began streaming down her cheeks. "No Jean, you're wrong. I haven't lied. I don't work for them. I hate them." Her breathing staggered as she grew more irate. "They… the b…bastards… they ruined my life!" Anne's shoulders slumped and she slid down the wall, resting her head in her hands as her sobs became more frequent.
"If you found me, they'll find me. They'll find me and they'll kill me, just like Mother, I can't let them… I won't let them."
Jean could barely understand her words through her sobs, and was surprised when she suddenly stood and ran past him up the stairs. He hadn't even had time to catch her arm. He turned and followed her. His plan had worked. He had scared her into admitting she was in danger; now he would see if he could get the rest of the information he wanted from her. He entered her bedroom, and found her moving the cabinet from the wall, and reaching into a hole there. She pulled out a large book, and practically threw it into her bag. As she reached for the phone, Jean took her hand and turned her to face him.
"Anne… Anne? Sssh now. I'm sorry I scared you. I just had to know. I had to know that you weren't one of them and that this wasn't all a plan to get to my family. Anne, look at me?"
She raised her head and Jean saw the tears still flowing; he reached out and brushed one away.
"Don't be scared now. I was just angry. I don't like being lied to. And I don't like that you didn't trust me enough to tell me what's going on."
"I didn't want..."
"Shush now. You tell me what is happening here. What is so bad? How can I help you?"
"You can't help me. They'll find me and kill me, just like they did Mother. I'm a liability, I know too much."
"I can help you, if you let me. Just tell me, Anne."
"I can't."
They were both startled when they heard a voice shout from downstairs. "Will you tell me, then?"
Anne looked at Jean in shock. "Is that who I think it is?"
"Papa?"
"Yes, Jean, it's me. Anne? I know that you know who I am. I know who you are. I know what happened. We can help you. Listen to Jean, please. Can I come in?"
"NO."
Jean was worried for his friend; he couldn't imagine what she must've gone through to get into the state she was in now. Spike had only told him that Giles had asked him to look for her, and that she was in danger, he had not said why. The woman trembling and crying before him now was a shadow of the woman he had met a fortnight ago. Yet he cared for her still, and worried for her. Jean was glad that his sire had come to his aid; he knew how much Anne respected and adored Spike. All he had to do now was convince her that they could help her, and that she was safe. "Please, Anne. Let him come in. Tell him what happened to you. He can make it go away. He can help. I promise. Please."
"Anne? Can I come in?"
"Ok, alright. I invite you in."
Spike climbed the stairs two at a time, until he reached Anne's room. Jean moved from her side as his sire nodded at him, and Spike took his place there.
*She looks broken, and scared. Hell, she should be scared.* Spike thought. He took her hand and swiped his thumb gently across the top of it. She looked like a little girl, all cradled up in her own arms for safety. Spike felt an overwhelming urge to pull her close to him, and comfort her, but held himself back. He didn't want to scare her off. When he had met her earlier, she had a spark in her eye that drew him to her in some way; now that spark was gone, replaced by sadness and fear, and the Master of New Orleans was worried for the girl that sat in front of him. He had no idea what was going through her mind, or how he could ease her pain. He just knew that he had to try.
"Have they found me?" she asked, as she looked up into his oceanic blue eyes.
"No, they haven't found you. We found you. I had a call from Giles, a friend of your mother's."
"Mr.Giles? He called you?"
"Yes, Anne, he asked us to look for you. Find you before they did. Do you trust me?"
"What?"
"I said, do you trust me?"
Anne contemplated the man before her. The man whose drawing she stared at in her mother's ledger until her eyes grew sore with tiredness. The man who she thought of before she slept; and again when she woke. The man she had seen from afar, walking in the sunlight, the rays accentuating his features so that you could spot his perfection from a great distance. Up close he was even more astounding. His eyes were deep-as-ocean blue, yet held a light that set her heart racing and her mind wandering. They sparkled with life, though in essence he was dead. She could see him breathing, though he had no need to, and she could feel something that almost seemed like need emanating from his whole being. She was no longer surprised with her mother's infatuation for the wondrous master vampire. Anne pondered his question. Did she trust him? She felt like she could trust him with anything. She had trusted him enough to invite him into her home. She decided to trust him more than she had trusted anyone before.
"Anne. Do you trust me?" he asked again.
"With my life..."
With that last statement, Spike turned to Jean. "You go on now; we'll be back at the house soon. If you see anything odd…"
"Oui, Papa, I'll tell you."
"Good. Now go on. If Baby's awake tell her everything's okay. And I'll be back soon."
"Oui, Papa."
Jean left the room swiftly, glancing at his father and Anne before he left the room. He left the house assured that his friend was in safe hands and that she would be taken care of.
---
After a few moments' silence, Spike moved from Anne, and sat on the bed. She looked up at him, her tearstained cheeks flushed pink as she felt his gaze on her.
"Will you tell me what happened, Anne? I'm here to listen, and to help."
She nodded and moved to sit next to him. She was still clutching the bag that held her mother's journal.
"They killed her. My mother. She knew too much. She told Mr. Giles about the Council's plans for you and your family. How they were planning to kill you all. She was a liability just like me."
Spike nodded and she continued.
"She knew weeks before that she was going to die. I know that because she gave me a key to a lock box, and told me to use it if something happened. Said everything I would need was in it. Strange to think that she knew, and all she was worried about was me. The night it happened, she was called on the telephone. She knew she was being set up, and told me to run. To get the things she had left in the lock box, and leave, come here. So I did. There were papers, for this place, the shop. Documentation for bank accounts, my passport, and this." She looked down and clutched the bag harder to her chest.
"She was a good woman. She loved me. When I first got to the airport I didn't want to leave, but I remembered what she said. She sent me here, you know. Told me 'Go to New Orleans, you'll be safe. Everything you need is there.' I don't think I've ever felt so lost, but it was like I was coming home."
"Go on."
"I arrived here, and got a taxi to the shop. I remember thinking she'd be waiting for me, but I knew… deep down, I knew she was dead."
Spike could see the tears threatening to fall again. He wrapped his arm around the young woman and whispered shushing noises to her, assuring her that she was safe and that her mother was in a good place. She smiled up at him, and his face lit up.
"What's in the bag, pet?"
"It's her journal. The only thing of hers I took when I left the house. It keeps her with me."
Anne couldn't believe that she was crying, and that she was being held in the arms of William the Bloody. She had envisioned meeting him before, but it had never been like this; it was never anything like this. He had come to help her. Her mother was right. He had a good heart. She felt tired, and moved her head to rest it on Spike's shoulder. She sighed as he placed his hand in her hair and began stroking it; it felt cool and soothing against her scalp, and she shivered. His touch felt amazing. Slowly, her sobs lessened and her tears stopped. She pulled back and looked at Spike.
"Why are you here? I mean really."
"To help."
"But why? I mean, why would you help me?"
Spiked sighed; there wasn't an easy answer to that question, or one that answered it completely, so he simply said, "Because I can."
Chapter Five: Terms Of Endearment
July 25th 2018
Wednesday
2 p.m.
Spike's gaze fell on Anne's face; she had looked happy a few moments ago, and now she was brooding enough to compete with Angelus. In the short time he had known this girl, Spike had come to care for her more than he thought he would. They had shared time and memories with each other, and she had made him feel almost as if he were alive again. She was still lost, inside her own mind. Memories of her mother tormented her. When she had spoken to Giles and he had told her that he had arranged her mother's funeral, she had been a wreck for weeks, refusing to talk to anyone except himself and Jean. Jean was immensely taken with Anne; though he let Spike console and take care of her, it was plain to see that the vampire had feelings for the girl. Spike sighed. Jean was falling in love with this wonderful woman who had captured his own heart. It would only end in disaster. Knowing that you love someone who doesn't love you in return always ended that way. Spike's own experience had taught him that. He had been burned by rejection, and it had marked him forever. This intelligent human woman was full of warmth and light, and she was so fragile and susceptible to the world, Spike felt an overwhelming need to protect her and to love her.
He and Baby hardly talked anymore; it was as if they were two different people now. Two halves of the same thing. So different, yet so alike, and so connected. Connected in life. Connected in death. The sex was still good, of course; both he and Baby were amazing lovers, but there was no emotion, no real desire anymore. It was just good sex. Amazing sex. Baby had distanced herself from him more when he had brought Anne home that morning two months ago. He remembered the pain in her voice and the shock on her face when she had seen him arrive and carry the sleeping young lady into their home. She had looked at him as if he was a monster, as if she hated him. She didn't hate him, though, nor did he hate her; he loved her with all of his heart, but he needed that missing piece of her that had been lost when she was in Hell; that part of her that had disappeared when her heartbeat had stopped for the first time. He needed humanity.
---
Anne sat in the garden of La Maison du Rouge s'Elevé, the sun's light dancing across her features as she bathed in it. Her life had changed so much over the past two months; she was almost a different person. Spike had convinced her to let him help her, and had taken her into his life, aware that she had valuable knowledge about him and his family. He had trusted her. No, he had done more than that; he had accepted her and her feelings on his family. He had encouraged her studies on The Pride, confided in her some of the family's secrets, and recent events that had brought change to the family. He rarely spoke of Baby, and had only mentioned the Slayer once. Anne left those subjects alone, knowing that if he wanted to, he would talk to her. In return for his secrets, she confided in him, not only about her life and her past in England, but of prophecies and magicks, and of her studies and their revelations. She didn't speak of her mother often, and Spike had respected that decision. When they weren't talking of prophecy and the family, they would spend time with each other. They often walked through the botanical gardens, or spent time in the French Quarter at cafes and restaurants. They had become friends, and Anne's love for the master vampire had grown stronger during the times she had spent with him. He would often visit the shop and stay until dawn, drinking liquor and reading old English literature--works of Shakespeare, and Lord Byron's and Tennyson's poetry. His voice soothed her, and she found it relaxing to just *be* with him. As the sun warmed her, she sighed with contentment, knowing instinctively that it wouldn't last for long.
"Lost in thought there, pet?"
Anne sat up abruptly at his voice, and turned to face him. He looked amazing in sunlight. He glowed. "Oh! Spike. I didn't hear you. You startled me."
Spike smiled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. You looked almost peaceful there for a while."
"I was; it's getting better."
Spike sighed. "You miss your mother, don't you?"
"Of course. I often wonder what she would think if she could see me now, sitting here in your garden talking to you." *She'd probably scream, she'd be so excited at seeing you again.*
"She knows, Anne."
Anne's head dropped to her chest, and she looked at her hands as she spoke. "Yeah…I guess she does."
---
May 26th 2018
Saturday
11 p.m.
"Mr.Giles? It's Anne Bridger. Spike asked me to phone."
"Oh Anne! It's so lovely to know that you're safe. Where are you?"
"I'm with Jean at Rue Royale."
"That's good. How are you?"
"I'm, well, okay. No, I'm not okay, that's a complete lie. Mr.Giles?"
"Yes?"
"What happened to Mother's body?"
Silence
"We buried her. It was nice and simple. She was buried in Northampton, where she asked me to…"
"With Grandpa..? That's good. I'm glad. Thank you, Mr. Giles, I have to go now."
"Anne? Wait… there's something I need to…"
Anne slammed the phone down and ran to the music room. Jean had been listening to the conversation from the lounge, and saw how upset she was, so he followed to see if she needed anything.
"Anne? Sweetheart?" he asked as he walked into the room.
Anne was curled up on a chair, tears flowing freely from her eyes, rocking back and forth. It was not so different from what he had seen in her bedroom the morning her identity had been revealed. Jean walked over to her and reached out his arm. She stood and let him sit, placing herself in his lap, and her head on his shoulder, her tears dampening his shirt.
"It's just…" she sobbed. "All so final. She's gone, she's really gone."
Jean lifted her head with his hand and brushed the tears from her cheek. "Oui, petite, she is. But she will always be here." He pointed to her heart. "No one can take her away from you, not completely."
Anne looked at the brown-haired vampire and smiled. She nodded her head, and then placed it back on his shoulder. The silence stilled her, and she slept.
---
June 7th 2018
Thursday
4 p.m.
The sunlight invaded Anne's room as the curtains were pulled back and she was stirred out of her sleep. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she noticed Spike sitting on the edge of her bed. She really wasn't very surprised to see him there. He had a habit of showing up at her home whenever he felt like showing up.
"You can't keep doing this, Anne."
"Doing what? I'm not doing anything."
"That's my point." Spike sighed and shook his head as he looked at her. Her hair was tousled and she was pale. She looked ill. "You don't eat properly, you don't sleep properly, and you don't go out. Hell! Half the time you don't even leave this room! You're a mess. Look at the state you're in."
Before Anne had time to process what was happening, she was pulled from the bed and carried over to the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. She slumped her head, refusing to look at herself.
"Look!" Spike demanded.
Anne didn't move.
"I said look… Now look." Anne raised her head, already crying. Misery poured from her in waves. "This isn't you. Look at what you've become. You're a scared little girl. You're not a brave, feisty woman anymore. You've reduced yourself to this through your own self pity. Look at yourself. It's…"
"Pathetic? Ridiculous? Stupid? I'm a waste of space? You wish you'd never found me?"
"Stop it. Just listen to yourself. What would Elisabeth think?"
"You leave my mother out of this," Anne snapped, turning sharply to face him.
"I will not, it's because of your mother that you're like this. She's gone, Anne. You knew that before. Why's it so bad now?"
Her sobs became louder with his words.
"Please Anne, let me… tell me…"
"I'm all alone…" she sobbed. "There's no one left. They're going to find me and kill me, just like they did her, and then I'll be… I don't want to die, Spike. I don't want them to find me… What am I going to do?" she asked as her legs gave way.
The master vampire was at her side in an instant. She never hit the floor. He stood her up and pulled her close to him, feeling the warm of her skin against his body, hearing her heartbeat thud in his ears. He ran his fingers through her hair.
"You'll live, and you'll survive one day at a time. Because that's what your mum would want you to do. And you'll be alright. You'll be safe. Because I'm here to protect you, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He tilted her head so that she was looking at him. "Not ever."
---
June 27th 2018
Wednesday
8:30 p.m. - Sunset
Spike walked down the side alley of 'Bizarre', opened the large oak door, and entered Anne's home. It had become habit now, for her to leave the door unlocked so that he could enter as he wished. Anne's grief over her mother's death had dissipated somewhat over the past few weeks. Spike was glad that his presence seemed to soothe Anne's fears of being found by the Council's vigilantes. She had important information on an upcoming prophecy that would be detrimental if the ex-Council retrieved it. It was the missing piece of a puzzle they had been working on for years. The fact of the matter was that they would try to kill her if they found her, and Spike would be there to stop them.
He had grown fond of Anne, and she had confided in him about her life. How her father had left when she was young, leaving her mother alone to bring her up, and how her mother had taught her all she knew about Spike and his family. She felt safe around him because of her mother's influence on her. She wanted to continue her studies on The Pride to prove her mother's belief that souls did not drive people to do good, but that it was a matter of personal choice, and a path that vampires could also choose to follow. Spike had told her how he sired his children, and why he did. How he gave them the choice to become a vampire, and encouraged them with love and respect to thrive as vampires. How Baby was their mother and the alpha female of the family, and how the children respected and loved her. He told Anne of when he was killed by Wolfram and Hart and how Baby brought him back from the dead, and story after story that had never been heard by any Watcher, including Rupert Giles.
This afternoon was one of the many they spent with each other. They would walk in the light as dusk fell atop the levee, south towards the River Walk. Anne would glow from the heat of the sun, but the heat never fazed her from gliding swiftly in her light cotton dress across the pink bricks of the path. She would lose herself in the scent of the flowers as she leaned in to smell them, and Spike would watch her. As her emotions flooded through her, they would wash over him like the cooling breeze on a summer's day... Elation, sadness and innocence. It was on one of these afternoons that she captured his heart. The warm rain washed over them as they walked by the river, and as she stood there in the sunset, he saw her truly for the first time.
---
July 7th 2018
Saturday
9:30 p.m.
Anne was lazing in her study, flicking through pages of old poetry books scattered around from the previous evening she had spent with Spike. The glass tumblers were still on the mahogany coffee table, and the ashtray was still full of cigarette ends. She scratched her head and wondered where to start cleaning. Spike had left just after dusk, and told her to lock the door behind him, since she had had a disturbing phone call a few nights previous. The vampire had spent as much time as possible with her to ensure her safety, but couldn't be with her all the time. Jean would come to see her when he could, and had been keeping an eye on the shop in the evenings before Spike came to see Anne for their nightly conversation.
Anne moved over to the table and collected the empty glasses and the ashtray, and walked over to the kitchen. She jumped and dropped the glasses into the sink as she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Well, well, Frank, seems like we've found what we were looking for," the tall man behind her said as he twisted Anne around to face him.
She kicked and punched out at him, but he grabbed her arms and held her fast against the kitchen side. "Why don't you just tell us where it is, lady?" a voice from the other side of the kitchen asked with a menacing tone. "You know what we're here for, and, well, once we have it, I promise that Bernie there will kill you quick. He's got a temper on him, though. Don't want to piss him off. It's best if you just give us what we came for."
Anne spat into Bernie's face, "No, I won't give it to you. Fuck you. You'll have to kill me."
Frank nodded to Bernie, and he punched Anne hard across her cheek, cutting her skin. "I dunno, Frank," he tsked. "Seems like the lady don't wanna play fair. What's say I give her some incentive?"
Frank nodded again, and Bernie slid his hand up Anne's leg. "Oooh darlin', you got soft skin, what d'ya say, fuck the undead, dontcha? Why don't you see what you've been missin', see what it feels like having a real livin' man inside you?" Anne struggled against his weight, desperately trying to get free of his hold. "Yeah, that's it, fight me, love it when they fight me. No harm in havin' a little fun 'fore I snap her neck, is there Frank?" Frank shook his head.
"No, Bernie, there ain't." He said as he walked out of the kitchen. "You just make sure you find out where the 'Elarum' is before you kill her. I'm gonna go search."
Anne struggled and twisted her body, trying to free her arms; she couldn't believe what this man was going to do to her, for fun, before he killed her. She wondered if it was him that killed her mother. Suddenly, her anger became rage, and she snapped her head forward, smacking him straight on the nose with a sickening crack. She kicked out at him, not caring where she hit. "Did you kill my mother, you sick fuck?" Kick. "Did you?" Kick. She screamed as she was grabbed from behind--it pierced the air. Her assailant put his hand around her mouth to try and shut her up, and she bit down on his fingers, hard.
---
Spike had heard the scream as he was about to turn and head for home. He knew it was Anne. He had left her and she was in trouble. He had told her he would protect her and he had failed. Turning back towards the shop, he ran as fast as he could, hoping he wasn't too late.
---
Anne heard the pounding on her front door as Frank dragged her out of the kitchen. She was still struggling, but he was strong. Bernie was still on the floor, nursing his broken nose.
"Fuckin' bitch! Now we got company. Just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could ya?" Frank said. His hand was covering all of Anne's mouth and part of her nose, she was finding it hard to breathe, yet still she struggled. Just as she faded from consciousness, the banging stopped, and she heard a gigantic crash.
---
Spike stormed up the stairs of Anne's house after breaking through the front door of the shop. There was no way he could have got through the oak door, as he discovered after a few attempts, but the shop front was weaker, and thinner; it had been hardly any trouble to break down.
"Well, what's this then?" Spike said, morphing into game face. "Ex-Council I take it? Come on; show me what you're made of."
Bernie was the first to approach Spike; he got up from the floor and nodded to Frank, who started edging away with Anne still in his grasp. Bernie was hardly near the vampire when Spike's first hit connected with his jaw, knocking him down. Spike stepped over the fallen man, and headed for the one who was holding Anne.
"I suggest you put her down, mate," Spike snarled, his fangs showing.
Frank dropped Anne's body on the floor and held his hands up to his face. "Please, we was just doin' our job. Don't kill me."
"Too late, mate. You're already dead," Spike said. "You touch what's mine… you die." He lunged at the man, and broke his neck in one smooth motion. Then he turned and went to Anne's motionless body. He noticed that the man whose nose he broke had disappeared, but refused to leave Anne to chase him. Spike had no doubt in his mind that he would see the man again.
---
Anne woke hours later, warm and safe in her bed. Jean was by her side.
"Jean? What happened?" she asked as she moved to sit upright.
"Oh petite, you're awake. Thank God. We were worried. You've been out for hours."
Anne's memory of the evening flooded back to her and she began sobbing.
"Oh sweet," Jean whispered, as he moved closer to her. "It's ok. Papa, he sorted it out. They're gone now. You're safe now." He pulled her into his arms and rocked her gently. "You're safe now. Papa and me, we'll take care of you."
Anne looked up into Jean's eyes and leaned forward to him, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Thank you, Jean. For being here. But I'll never be safe. This won't be over until I'm dead."
---
July 25th 2018
Wednesday
2:05 p.m.
Spike walked over to the garden chair next to Anne's and sat down. He reached over and took her hand. Her warmth emanated from her and it comforted him. It gave him hope, and reinforced his need for her.
"What is it, Spike? What's wrong?"
Spike ran his thumb across her hand. She shivered, as he raised it to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on it. Her skin was smooth and he could smell her perfume--Bergamot. "Shush now, and let me speak." She nodded and Spike smiled at her. "I want you to stay here, with me. I want you where you're safe. Where I can protect you. I can't risk you being hurt again, and I can't protect you if you're at the shop. You need to be here. I…"
Anne raised her hand and spoke. "Just stop for a second and let me show you something."
"Ok."
Anne reached over the side of her chair and picked up her book. She moved over to where Spike was and took a seat next to him. He looked at her questioningly.
"This is my mother's journal. Her watcher diary and personal diary; it's the only thing of hers that I have except for this necklace." She held the silver pendant in her hand, opened the tome and found the page she wanted Spike to see. "Here, look."
Spike took the book from her and glanced at the page. Shocked at seeing a portrait of himself there, he traced his fingers over the worn page, careful not to apply too much pressure to the paper. He was stunned. Returning his gaze to Anne, he saw her smile as she looked at the page fondly.
"I remember when Mother first told me about you: I thought you were a handsome warrior that would rescue little girls and keep them safe from harm. A knight in shining armour! I never believed you were real, not really. When mother met you in Sunnydale…" Spike looked at her, uncertainty showing on his face. "I'm not surprised you don't remember; it was a long time ago. Anyway, she did her thesis on you for the Watcher's Council, and when she met you, the first thing she showed me when she came back from America was this picture. I knew then that you were real. I guess I just kept this with me when I left England in case you weren't. Now I'm here, and I know you're real, and I know what I feel is real. I love you, and I don't want to destroy your life. I don't want you to feel obliged to protect me; I don't want to ruin what you've accomplished here, with Baby and your family."
Spike took Anne's hand in his and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.
"I want you to stay. Not because I feel obliged, but because I care for you. I want you here, where I can protect you, where I can love you. Here, where you're safe." Spike stood and pulled Anne up with him. "Just say you'll stay with me…"
She nodded. "I'll stay."
~Fin~