© Copyright 2005 A. Fraser and Jean Hontz. All rights reserved.
Silence reigned in the den for a moment or two after Adele and Alex made their dignified exit.
Michael breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good for you, Adele," he said softly.
Mary put her hand on his arm. She looked pale but composed. "I'm going to take the kids home," she said, and it was a mark of this terrible night that neither twin protested. Vivain was still rather green and embarrassed about having thrown up.
"I'm sorry, Vivain, Galen," Michael said. "You will undoubtedly have nightmares. But it was something you had to learn. For tonight though... I promise sleep only." He touched each young forehead, and Mary's too. "I'll be home when I can."
"Ray should get to bed, too," said Pandora, who'd been checking the mage's arm.
"How are you feeling?" Michael asked him.
A wan smile. "Like a crazy vampire took a chunk out of my arm," he replied. "A couple more scars for the collection."
"I'll take him home," Estella said, putting her arm around Ray. "And I'll make sure he gets some sleep."
There was no protest from Ray, either. They left, following Mary and the twins.
The den was still pretty full, though.
Francis was standing over the blanketed form on the floor, looking a wee bit shocked and frightened. He'd dated Janine a few times. They'd been friends, and often co-conspirators in mischief. He'd never expected this.
Michael went over to the young vampire now. "It had to be done, Francis," he said. "Even I can see that."
The angelic head was raised slowly, as if Francis wasn't certain it was still attached to his neck. "He said that one of her crimes was attacking a member of the Brotherhood," he spoke numbly. "I've done that twice."
"You slipped Gideon a few recreational drugs in a drink as a joke, and punched Alex in the face when you were angry," Michael pointed out. "Neither is the equivalent of biting off a piece of someone's arm. Nobody's going to take your head off, Francis. Although if you step out of line again, I won't guarantee that someone won't give you a good swift kick."
"Alex said if I ever hit him again, my ass is grass."
"I doubt he meant it literally."
"It wasn't her fault, Michael!"
"It wasn't Alex's, either. You can see that, can't you? We can't allow this to cause discord in the Brotherhood, Francis. If you blame Alex for Janine's death..." he couldn't finish.
"No," Francis sighed. "I don't blame him. He did what he had to. But she was crazy. She started going crazy before he turned her."
"Yes," Michael agreed. "But I cannot heal a broken mind, only a broken body, and she would not seek the help she needed. And there is only one way to help an insane vampire." He, too, looked down at the blanket. "May the goddess grant her peace," he said. "So mote it be," chorused the other Druids.
_________
Alex released his arm from Adele's grip and sank onto the floor beside his bed. "Ah, gods," he said indistinctly. "Jenny."
Adele stood there, feeling very young and very vulnerable. She'd known what to do earlier, get Alex the hell out of there, give him the privacy he needed to process this, deal with it, cry. But now she wasn't sure what to do. Leave him? Stay? Finally, after a period of indecision, she sank to the floor beside him, but didn't touch him. She pulled her legs up close to her chest, wrapped her arms around her knees and just sat there. She didn't say anything, didn't make a move to touch him, didn't even watch him, just offered companionship, and whatever comfort sitting shivah with him might be. She let her mind drift. Seven days of formal mourning didn't seem enough. She wasn't Jewish, but borrowing the ritual seemed like the least she could do for Janine.
She would not cry. At least not where Alex could see her. Her eyes were dry, she focused her thoughts on what little she'd known of Janine. And tried to forget that wretched sound. She didn't think she ever would. She did sigh.
Alex looked up at the sigh. He'd forgotten that Adele was there. But he was grateful that somebody was. "She was so sweet when she came here," he said, needing to talk, needing someone to hear him.
"Tell me about her," Adele said softly.
"Her father died when she was little, and then her mother died just as she came out of college. She had no other family. I'd done a search for family... trying to find out what happened to the Goldanias line." He closed his eyes. Did Adele know? Had anyone told her? He hadn't, fearful of overloading her with information, fearful of her censure.
"I was hoping to find my own descendants," he said. "I had two sons, Gregor and Pieter. I never found out what happened to them."
Adele closed her eyes. She was afraid to respond. She wanted him to continue.
"But Janine was all I found, and she was descended from my father's younger brother, making her a cousin. I don't want to know how many generations removed. I contacted her; told her I was descended from a cousin. Invited her here." "Maybe that was a mistake. This house..." he sighed. "I was in one of my moods when I designed the mansion. This house affects people. And then Brier... I was with Brier at the time, and I think it made Janine jealous. I had never thought of Janine as a potential lover, only as the only family member I could find. I didn't think things through very well, did I? She wasn't a child I'd adopted, but a fully grown adult, and here was her rich, handsome cousin with this mansion and an inconvenient girlfriend. When Brier ... left me, it didn't take Janine long to make her move. She'd been showing signs of instability before that, but I was hoping it was something that would pass, that she'd find a boyfriend in town or even fall in love with Francis..."
"But then we became lovers. And I turned her, which she begged me to do. She wanted the power and romance," he spat the word, "of being a vampire. I can't say I wasn't warned against making fledglings out of sheer passion. I'd seen what had happened to my own turndam because she couldn't stop doing it. But Janine..." he shook his head. "She drank my blood like it was water," he said simply.
"And then she turned... and she was already pretty far over the edge mentally, and the turning made it worse. She became wild, uncontrollable. She attacked a reporter in town, nearly exposed the whole Brotherhood. Oh, they unofficially know what we are, and work around it. We have an understanding with the town officials. But attacking anyone in the village violates that agreement. She wouldn't drink pig's blood. She believed every horror novel about what a vampire should be." He sighed again. "Anne Rice has a lot to answer for."
"So I sent her back to Toronto. Helped her set up her own business. Pandora helped her settle in, found her an apartment and furniture... everything seemed to be okay for awhile. Then that thing with BOO happened, that they threatened to evict us, and Janine came back here to help decide what we should do. That set her off again."
"It was my responsibility as her turnsire to make her pay for her crimes," he continued. "I didn't want to do it... but if anyone else did it, then that would have confirmed everyone's opinion of me."
Adele swallowed. She was afraid. She didn't want to do the wrong thing here. She wanted to touch him, to hold him, but... She didn't. She'd wait to see what he wanted.
When she was sure he'd wound down, said what he had to say at the moment, she sighed. "Oh, Alex. I'm very young. I know that. I don't have any advice to offer you. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. Janine... It was a mercy, Alex. She was deeply unhappy. Probably very afraid. At some level she had to know... Alex, all we can do, all we ever can do, is what we think is right. And then find a way to live with it."
He turned to look at her then. She met his eyes. "I'm here for you, Alex. For whatever that means for you. To talk, to hold you, or to go out that door and leave you in privacy. All I ask is that you don't shut me out completely. Please."
"Adele." He reached out and took her hand. "I love you."
She lifted his hand and rubbed it against her cheek. Then she kissed it. She scooted over closer to him and took him in her arms. "Just hold me," she whispered molding herself to his body.
He did, feeling her warmth, listening to her heart beat, the song her blood sang in her veins. He knew the taste of that blood now, knew the sacrifice she had made for him. She felt tears run down onto the top of her hair.