Wow, I’ve been gone for a long time. My deepest apologies, mes cheries. Ok guys, here’s
another long awaited chapter. I’ve been very busy with school, but I got my big ass presentation
done, and got a high A on it. So I’m happy. Only one more week of oppressive pointless public
education, and then I can write as much as I want over the summer! HA! Ahem. Anyway, Enjoy.
I just hope I didn’t loose the gist of the story after being gone so long.

Anita’s POV

When I woke Asher was gone. I wasn’t surprised, and despite of what I had said to
Asher, I was glad to not wake up to a corpse beside me. Asher entered through a side door.
“Ah, Anita, you are awake.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Apparently.”

Asher waved his hand towards the side door he had entered through. “I have drawn you a
bath, Anita. There are some clean clothes for you as well.” He ran his fingers through his hair.
“You may not like them, but they were all I could find that would fit your…”

“Height? Yeah, I know, I’m short.” I hopped down off of the high bed and walked to the
bathroom. I kissed Asher on the cheek as I passed. “Thank you, Asher.”

I took my bath. The warm water felt wonderful after not having a bath or shower
since…since Jean-Claude had helped me a little bit. You know, those hard to reach places.

I got out of the bath and dried off. You never realize how good it feels to be clean until
you’ve forgone a cleaning for several days. I wrapped the towel around my body to free my
hands to look at the clothes Asher had found. It was a dress, and a cloak that would go over.
Both would be long on me, going down to the floor. The dress was a dark blue that was form
fitting on top and the skirt was full to allow a full range of movement.. The cloak was black, and
made out of a heavier material than the dress. I suspected Asher had thrown that in for warmth.
It was drafty down here in the council chambers. Why spend much on heating, when the
inhabitants are affected by neither heat nor cool?

I walked out of the bathroom to find Asher sitting at the foot of the bed. He was dressed in
a shirt that was such a pale blue it almost matched his eyes. The shirt tucked into black pants,
and black leather boots rode up to his knee.

I sat down on the edge of the bed next to Asher. “We do not have to go out to court quite
yet, Anita. Belle will think I am…entertaining you, and give us some time.” I nodded. “But when
we do go back out,” Asher paused to look down at the floor.

“What, Asher?”

“Well, I realize this will be hard for you to do, but act as if you fear me. Because if Belle
Morte senses our alliance, then she will pass you on to someone new. You do not want that to
happen, Anita, trust me.”

I nodded. From what I had heard and from what I had so far seen, I completely and totally
believed him.

“Asher!” echoed a voice through the room, rich and thick as honey.

Asher stiffened. “Yes, my dark Queen?”

“Come out to play, my golden one. And bring the Executioner. Amador is back for her
already.”

“As you wish, Belle.”
 
 
 
 
 
 

Asher led me through the halls. What is it with vampires and underground lairs with
seemingly unending passageways that pass for halls? “Remember what I said,” Asher whispered
to me under his breath a moment before pushing open the large door and entering the court of
Belle Morte. As soon as Asher set foot in the room he slipped behind his mask of hatred and
arrogance once again. I could see it in the way he walked, just in the way he held himself, in the
tightness around his mouth and eyes.

It was hard, but I tried to appear afraid of Asher. I shortened my steps from their normal
confident stride, and hunched over, hiding within myself. Then that laugh, that damnable laugh I
had grown to hate over the past few days met my ears. “Have they broken you already, Anita?”
asked Amador.  I didn’t answer, didn’t look up. I wanted to run from the room, to dart to safety.
But the problem was, with a vampire this powerful, there was no safety. Until he met his final
resting place, he would always be a terror to someone. I could arrange a final resting place for
him. “Come to me, my necromancer.”

Amador stood in the middle of the large room, holding out his hand to me. He was wearing
a crimson silk shirt, black pressed slacks, and a black belt. The bright red of the shirt set off his
molten gold eyes, giving the illusion of looking into a gold smelter. I slowly made my way towards
him, shuffling my feet, head turned down, eyes averted to the ground. The whole room was
hushed, silent, all of the court wanting to hear the exchange between the Executioner and the
most powerful vampire in the world. I stopped a few feet before him, not taking the hand he
outstretched. “Did you enjoy your evening in the arms of the scarred one, Anita?”

I didn’t have to look back at Asher to see him hide himself behind his hair, to see him sink
even further into the defensive shell he had built up over the years. I didn’t answer, remaining
silent. I didn’t open my mouth because I knew I would say something terribly rude. I didn’t look
up, because I knew Amador would see my hatred for him in my eyes. “Why do you not speak?
You do still have a tongue, do you not? Or did the scarred one bite it off?”

The last remark evaporated the remainder of my self control. I looked up to Amador
defiantly. “I did not speak, because I knew I would tell you I would rather Asher touch me a
thousand times to you touching me once.”

The insult struck home, and Amador stiffened with arrogance, and anger. “Perhaps they
did not break you as well as I had hoped. Perhaps I should punish them for that.” I could feel the
whole room shudder, flinching with the thought of the demon half breed’s brand of punishment.
“But that shall have to be postponed, for time is of the essence. I know your Master is on the
way here, even as we speak. And if I allowed him to take you back, it would become tug-of-war
all over again!” I realized Amador had made a sad attempt at making a joke. Jean-Claude was
on the way here. So if I could just stall until the entourage got here, (because he always traveled
with an entourage,) things might be alright. And then again, they might just go to hell, as usual.

“I wouldn’t pursue a career in comedy,” I commented, standing up straight once again. I
wasn’t going to hide, or act anymore. The game was up.

Suddenly the two great double doors burst open, and Jean-Claude and his entourage
entered. “I couldn’t agree more, ma petite.” Jean-Claude stood, feet spaced apart, arms
crossed, chin raised in an arrogant commanding gesture, a look of contempt on his perfect
aristocratic face. The entourage fanned out behind him. I recognized some of the wolves and
vampires, and surprisingly, Edward as well. Maybe he would get to try out that new toy after all.

“This keeps getting more interesting by the moment,” Belle commented from her throne,
eyes intent on the crowd below her. All of the courtiers backed up, giving us space. Or rather,
giving us a ring for battle.

Jean-Claude bobbed his head in Belle’s direction, a sort of makeshift bow, for he didn’t
dare take his eyes off of Amador. “Forgive me for my intrusion, my dark Queen, but I have
come on quite urgent terms. Amador has taken something very important to me.”

Belle said nothing, but nodded in slight acknowledgement. She wasn’t taking sides quite
yet, wanting to be on the side of the victor. I would bet the farm she was rooting for
Jean-Claude, just to eliminate Amador. But that didn’t mean she would help us.

“Apologizing to Belle, Jean-Claude? I believe it is I to whom you owe penitence.”

Jean-Claude raised one black sculpted eyebrow. “For what, might I inquire?”

“For being a nuisance. I have been tolerant, to an extreme, Jean-Claude. Now I think I
shall show you exactly how demon-like I can be.” Amador spread his arms, and slammed his
hands together, creating a sound similar to a thunderclap. The room crackled with power.
Jean-Claude clenched his fists, bracing himself, as if he was holding off an imaginary force field of
power. And then I realized that was exactly what he was doing. With that clap Amador had
mustered all of his power, and was pressing it into Jean-Claude, like a car crusher of power. I
feared that if Jean-Claude took the full brunt of that he would be literally crushed, which would
be the end to both of us.

I must have taken a step forward towards Jean-Claude to help him, because Amador
curled his fingers around my upper arm, holding me in place. “Oh no, Anita. You will stay here.”

I reached out to Jean-Claude through the marks, to discover he had them completely
blocked off. He was preparing to loose, and he didn’t want me to feel the pain that was
inevitable to him. Edward drew a gun from one of his many hiding places, pointing it at Amador.
Amador waggled his finger at Death himself, like he was a naughty child. “Now now, put that
away, or I will kill Jean-Claude, and Anita in the process. I do not want to, but I will.”

Edward’s eyes went to their ice blue stage of non-feeling. He looked to me for the go
ahead to shoot Amador, or the order to put the gun away. I shook my head, pleading with him
with my eyes to put the gun away for now. But apparently Edward did not put it away fast
enough, because Amador closed his fist, shattering Jean-Claude’s resistance.

Jean-Claude cried out, falling to all fours. The pain was so intense he could not control the
marks any longer, flinging them wide open to me. I felt what Jean-Claude was experiencing, and
the pain sent me reeling to the ground as well. It felt as if every bone in my body, every organ,
every cell had been crushed under tons of weight. But I was still whole. I looked across to
Jean-Claude. He was still whole and beautiful as well. He wasn’t even bleeding. I then realized
that the crushing blow had been a sort of illusion. The pain was certainly real, but the illusion was
the weight pressing down upon us. What it really was, was the power, forcing its way into every
cell of our bodies, and the pure energy made the cells expand, wanting to explode, giving the
illusion of a crushing feeling. Amador didn’t want to kill us, because he still wanted me. But he
wanted to scare us, to let us know just how powerful he really was. Well, it was working.

I screamed in agony, a high shrill sound of pain. I had to make it stop, or the pain alone
would kill us. Either that, or it would drive us mad. I fell to the floor, and rolled over on my back
to face Amador. Somehow I fought through the excruciating pain, reaching out to Amador with a
metaphysical hand. I was a necromancer, and dammit, this half breed was half dead, after all. As
he had done with his power, I wrapped my power around Amador, turning his attention to me.
But instead of just wanting to cause him pain, I targeted the most vital organ, the heart. I
squeezed the life-pumping organ lightly, but it still made Amador gasp. I began to tighten my grip,
when Amador fell to his knees, and leaned over me. “Oh, no, Anita. I do not think so.”

Amador drew his power back from Jean-Claude, and focused it on me. I put up my
shields as strong as they would go, so as Amador searched for my heart, his grasp theoretically
kept slipping. He couldn’t quite find the organ to take hold of, as I had his. But from all the
intense pain I could barely see. Starbursts danced in front of my vision. I squeezed his heart
harder, and a slight trickle of blood burst from the corner of Amador’s mouth, some of it dripped
down onto me. My shields weakened enough to allow Amador to tighten his grip on my heart,
exacting the power. “If you take me, Anita, you will come with me. I will not go down without a
fight.” I felt that coldness, that emptiness fill me that I get when I’ve decided to kill something.

“Bring it on, bitch,” I spit into his face, and squeezed his heart with the last of my strength,
crushing it, like an overripe tomato in my grasp. Amador’s eyes widened with surprise. He didn’t
think I would really do it. As he fell to the stone floor, he dished something out in my direction,
what was left of his life source. I watched his corpse fall to the floor as the magic he threw at me
traveled towards me. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. It hit me full on, sending me
skidding across the floor, and then into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Jean-Claude’s POV

Amador withdrew his power from me, focusing all of his force on Anita. The pain disappeared,
and I was able to sit up. But movement was difficult. I watched ma petite and Amador wrestle in
a battle of wills. Ma petite was blocking the marks, as I had done earlier. “If you take me, Anita,
you will come with me. I will not go down without a fight,” said Amador.

“Bring it on, bitch,” ma petite so eloquently replied. At that moment the marks opened. I
had often wondered how Anita killed so easily, and when I felt that emptiness fill her, I suddenly
knew. She could kill so easily because when she pulled the proverbial trigger, she left herself
behind. I could feel Amador’s heart in our grasp. And then Anita squeezed, bursting that bloody
organ into so much pulp, like an overripe fruit in the hands of a man who did not know his
strength.

Amador looked surprised, amazed that Anita had called her bluff. If he had known her, he
would have know ma petite never bluffs. As he fell to the floor he flung the last of his power out
at her. It slammed into her body, sending her in a slide across the stone floor, closer to us.

I crawled to ma petite, pulling her onto my lap. An all consuming fear washed over me
when I felt the limpness of her body, she had stopped breathing, but suddenly regained her life all
on her own. Her breathing and heartbeat were steady, she was just a bit out of it. Ma petite
seems to have this inevitable force surrounding her, this untouchable will to survive. I tried to
recall how many times she had neared the brink, and had pulled herself back to the world of the
living.

Belle Morte stood from her throne, clapping her hands once, twice, three times. She glided
down the stairs to look at Amador’s lifeless corpse. “You truly are powerful, Jean-Claude, with
Anita at your side. Perhaps too powerful to leave alive.”

I looked up to meet the honey brown eyes of Belle. I saw the challenge and contempt
there. She was still angry about Asher and I leaving her for Julianna, those long years ago. She
had a bone of contention to pick, and par dieu, she would pick it. “Even after we have done you
the enormous favor of slaying Amador for you, you would speak of killing us.”

Belle Morte smiled, holding he head high. “You may have killed Amador, Jean-Claude, but
for your own purposes, not to serve me. And you have brought violence to my court.” She
waved in the direction of Monsieur Edward. “You have brought Death himself to my Court. And
all without an invitation into my lands. I could execute you for that alone.” Belle was just delighted
to hunt down all these reasons to execute us.

“Now you are being petty, Belle.”

“Perhaps. But I am amusing myself.” She smiled, a slight curl of those ruby red lips. “But I
am a fair vampire, Jean-Claude, so I will break you a deal.”

“I am listening.”

“If someone here will speak for you, I will let you go.” I frowned. I had many enemies in
this court, and Belle knew it. A few moments passed, but they seemed like an eternity. Belle
Morte turned her head to the side, listening to the silence. “What? No one will speak for
Jean-Claude?” she asked in a singsong voice. “One would think you have no friends here,
Jean-Claude.” She laughed at her own joke, and the rest of her well trained court followed suit,
in shallow laughter.

But then a voice I knew so well cut through the laughter. “I will speak for Jean-Claude.”
The crowd parted, from none other than mon chardonneret himself. He stepped forward into the
center of the ring.

“You, of all people, Asher, will speak for Jean-Claude? He who you hate?”

Asher nodded. “Yes. You must admit, my dark Queen, that Jean-Claude and Anita have
taken care of a rather large problem. I think all of the other indiscretions should be forgiven for
that fact alone.”

Belle frowned, but nodded. She would act true upon her word, and someone, the someone
she had least expected, had spoken for us. But I knew from the glare Asher was receiving, he
would not have an easy time in Belle Morte’s court from now on. I stood, holding ma petite in
my arms. I looked to Asher. Our eyes met, the two extreme shades of blue, as Julianna had
called them. Emotions, words never said, felling stamped into the dust centuries ago passed
between us. “Come back with us, to St. Louis, Asher.”

He seemed surprised at this offer. “Would you take me back, after how I have treated you
for the past four centuries?”

“With open arms, chardonneret.” I could feel tears welling in my eyes that I was forced to
hold back. Now was not the time for such things.

Belle Morte cut in at this moment. “Do you honestly think Jean-Claude would want a
scarred thing like you, Asher? After he tossed you from his bed so many years ago?”

Asher frowned, for the first time in a long time showing some backbone against Belle. “It
was not he who cast me from his bed, Belle. It was you.” Belle Morte frowned again, those
honey brown eyes conveying anything but the sweetness the color suggested.

“Very well, my golden one. But know this. I will not accept you under my wing a third
time, when you are hurt again.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Stretched out on the couch seat that took up the whole side of the passenger’s cabin of my
private jet, Anita had rested her head on my thigh and fell asleep for the long plane ride ahead. I
would have found a pillow for her, but I believed it was not a pillow, but closeness she desired.
She had awoken briefly from her unconscious spell, and then fell into this deep sleep. I stroked
her hair, running a dark lock of curls between my fingers. Her eyelids fluttered in response to my
touch, but she did not wake. Looking down at her petite form, one would not think such a killer,
such a survivor, could reside within such a package with such a miniscule appearance. She
kicked in her sleep, almost propelling her sleeping body off of the couch. I scooped her up in my
arms, holding her to my chest. I knew she awoke for a moment, then snuggled into the silky
material of my shirt, falling back asleep quickly. A small smile curled on my lips. I took a deep
breath, taking in her scent. Words can not fathom the relief I felt to hold her in my arms again.

Asher chose this moment to enter the cabin. I had felt him hovering by the door for quite
some time, not sure whether or not to enter. Uncertain if he was ready to face me. I had much
the same feelings. Asher sat down in one of the, as ma petite calls them, egg chairs, and swiveled
around to face me. We sat silent for a few moments, until I decided to break it. “Thank you for
helping us, Asher. And,” I glanced down, then back up at mon chardonneret, “I am pleased that
you decided to return to St. Louis with us, where you will be among friends.”

Asher nodded. “It was nothing, Jean-Claude, truly. And thank you for allowing me to
return with you.” He sighed. “We have been at…odds for quite some time now.”

“That is one way of phrasing it, I suppose.” Odds. That was indeed the most diplomatic
way of saying things.

Asher looked to Anita, smiling gently. “But you have found another. And I am happy for
you, Jean-Claude.”  I nodded in thanks. More minutes passed in silence, which seemed like
hours. Asher broke the void this time. “Do you like it?”

I was puzzled. “Like what, mon ami?”

“Having a human servant.”

I nodded. “Yes, very much so.”

“Bon. Because I believe you have made an excellent choice with this one.”

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