Edward sat, eyes glued to the sealed vase on the alter. Three large, waterproof tents had been set up, but Edward hadn't stepped under any of them. He sat in the sun without sunglasses, face hard. The vase was tall, thin with a few tasteful curves. It was decorated in pale pink, purple and blue, all three colors mingling across its surface. It didn't fit the occasion or the guest of honor, so to speak. The wind picked up and his hair blew over his forehead, but he hardly noticed. The vase held too much for him to ignore. Or, at least, he had been told it did. Everyone had left, forty-five minutes to an hour ago, including the priest. He sat, staring at the vase, his black suit not bothering him at all in the heat. What had he done? Why had things turned out this way? He felt his jaw tighten, and he stood, eyes still glued to the vase. Dammit. It wasn't supposed to be this way!Anita stood in the shade of a large, tasteful pine tree, watching Edward from ten or so yards away. He'd been sitting almost as still as she'd been standing, for over an hour. The rest of the procession had left, and Anita had seen Edward pay the priest a hefty sum of money to leave without moving the vase. Anita cocked her head, wondering what Edward was thinking. His hair had gotten longer since she'd last seen him. Anita figured Donna had liked it that way. Edward had always kept the same basic style, and it would've taken Donna to change him in his ways. As Edward stood, Anita figured it was time to make her move, to go talk to him, explain why things had gone wrong.
--Three weeks earlier--
Anita had called at quite an inopportune time. Edward grumbled as the phone rang, lifting his mouth from Donna's neck. She giggled and tried to pull him closer, but it was his cell phone, and only a select few people knew the number,
"Sweetie-dumplin, it's business." He flashed her his Ted smile- which was easy to muster, especially when it would get him laid- and then backed off, shaking his hair out of his face. Donna had decided it should be longer, and so, Edward had let it grow. He pulled his shirt off of the phone, where it had been thrown shortly before, and grabbed the cell, flipping it open.
"Edward."
"It's Anita. Are you busy?" Edward smiled a secretive smile, winked at Donna and then let himself out of the room, and eventually out onto the porch. The setting sun hit his shoulders, and he leaned against the house.
"Not anymore."
"Good. We've got a problem. One that I thought you might be interested in helping with."
"Shoot."
"Well, things have gone to hell lately. Seems Malcolm's gone on a rampage to bring in more Church goers."
"And?"
"Well, people have gone missing, and three of Jean-Claude's strongest minions have turned up dead. Malcolm's gone into hiding, and the church has been off-limits to most everyone."
"You're sure it's Malcolm?"
"Who else would it be? Bruce, his secretary? I hardly think so. Remember, he was the second strongest Master before Nikolaos died." Anita seemed to be shuffling things, papers it sounded like.
"What are you doing?"
"Huh? Oh, getting stuff together for Bert. A girl's got to have a day job. That way I never get sleep." She shifted and her voice came in clearer. "I was hoping you could come play and bring some of your hottest toys."
The door opened and Donna came out, draped in a large, white robe, arms immediately encircling Edward, grinning up at him. He winked at her, rubbing her back absently.
"I'm sorry Anita, I can't be there anytime soon. The Police here are working on some things that Ted- that I need to help them with. Plus, Becca's got a play in two days that I'm expected to attend." Edward sensed Anita holding back stunned laughter. Yet, he had to agree with her. Since Edward had crossed that last line that Anita was rapidly approaching, he had never even fathomed saying the words, "A play I'm expected to attend.
"All right. I guess we'll just have to get along without you."
"I can send you some toys within the week, if you'd like."
"Oooh. I can't wait. But, how will you get them here?"
Edward smiled, silently, pretending it was meant for Donna, and then spoke. "A magician never reveals his secrets, Anita." After that, he hung up, and pulled Donna into a warm embrace.--Three days later--
Bernardo stepped off the plane, looking around the airport. People milled around, but none of them were Anita. No matter, Edward had given him directions to Anita's office anyway. It was just a matter of renting a car and getting there. He hefted the carry-on over his shoulders, and headed for the baggage claim.
Thirty minutes later, Bernardo was pulling up in front of a nice, gray office building, leaving the suitcase in the trunk, and bringing the leather carry-on into the building and onto the elevator. The woman in there with him, was staring, he could feel it. So, he flipped his hair over his shoulder, and flexed, every-so slightly. Taking a step back, and to the side put her into view. He smiled, giving her his best flash of teeth, and opened his mouth to speak. She smiled back, and then the elevator door opened.
"Bernardo?!"
Anita's shocked voice carried. Bernardo watched the woman get a glimpse of the short, dark-haired beauty and then make a run for it. Apparently Anita had a Rep. Anita hadn't even noticed the woman. As he turned to her, smiling, she caught the elevator door and stopped it from closing, still watching him, carefully eyeing the bag and obviously wondering what he was doing there.
"Anita. I'm here with your toys."--Present--
Edward took one last look at the ridiculously wrong vase, and started to turn. A snap of a stick, and the sound of a safety clicking off had him twisted and aiming before his mind could comprehend. In the nanosecond that it had taken him to turn, draw and aim, his mind was blank, calculating, ready for action, and concerned with nothing but how to get a killing blow off before he was even scratched.
But the sight that confronted his eyes from less that three feet away made even his steady arm falter.
"Are we finally drawing down on each other?"
"The fuck are you doing here?!" Was all Edward could say.
--One week earlier--
Something had awoken the vampire hours before he should have even been aware. Still naked, Jean-Claude got up, out of his bed, that he had lightly sprayed with a perfume that Anita sometimes wore, and looked around. He could feel the sun up above ground, beating on the ground, like it was on his shoulders. He pulled silken black pants on, and headed out to the main room. Jason was feverishly making out with one girl, his hands all over the others. Something wasn't right. Perhaps Anita and Richard had finally given in and they were having sex? No, that would not affect him. It was something else. Perhaps Malcolm had found the Master's sanctuary? Before Jean-Claude could ask, the pain started.
Jean-Claude could feel the jerk of the soul from miles away. He clutched his chest, and then coughed up blood. His chest felt tight, like someone was trying to pry it open with a rusty crow bar. He swore in French and dropped to his knees. The human female that approached him was, at that moment, not even a concern. She was topless, drowsy and smelled of sex. Her blood was pumping, and that's all Jean-Claude knew at the moment. Something had happened that would forever change his life. The girl could help him figure out what. He grabbed her, pulling her down and ripping into her neck. His mouth, skilled after hundreds of years of practice at everything a mouth can do, was fixed over the wound before even a drop of blood escaped. The pain in his chest, still fiery and throbbing, was secondary to the blood flowing down Jean-Claude's thirsty throat.Richard turned, chuckling at the joke that Tommy had made. Though distractions were uncalled for, especially when the teacher was in the middle of a lesson. But, the boy had little self-esteem and making jokes seemed to make him feel better. Not to mention, if often broke tension, and let Richard know if the kids weren't quite getting it. If only that boy would pay more attention to the work, and less attention to being the class clown, then-
The pain seized his chest, and dropped him to the floor, hands grabbing at his heart, knees sore from hitting the floor. The kids gasped, but that was all secondary, to the pain. He opened and closed his mouth, rapidly, trying to breath. Air was coming in and going out, but even though Richard's mind knew that, his body was protesting. Almost immediately, he felt the pack at his aid, lending their energy, even from far away. He let them soothe him, but it wasn't enough. He turned the energy of the younger wolves away, and felt Jason's energy, frantic, and scared. Jean-Claude was in pain also, but through the marks, both were feeling better. Almost simultaneously, they reached out to Anita. However, nothing was there.--Three days later--
Edward smiled at Becca's little dance. She was still so proud of her role in the play, even though two weeks had passed by. She giggled and then ran over, throwing herself into Peter's lap. He chuckled, catching her, and burying wiggling fingers into her belly. He laugh was high and jovial. Peter's laugh was low, and happy.
"Teddy, Honey? There's someone on the phone for you." Edward twisted, glancing back at Donna, leaning out of the kitchen, holding the phone. He got up, stepped over a doll that Becca had dropped, and headed over, giving Donna a quick kiss on the forehead as he passed.
"Ted here?"
"… Um… Ed-Edward?" The voice was ragged, racked with sobs, and thick with tears. Edward twisted away from Donna, facing the wall.
"Yes?"
"It- It's Ronnie, Anita's friend- Oh God." The woman broke into a fresh fall of tears, and Edward was patient. He wasn't stupid. He knew what was coming. But somehow, letting the woman cry let him postpone really knowing.
"Anita… She… Well, That vampire, the one… Malcolm… And then there… Well." Ronnie took a deep breath, and then spoke, her voice a little steadier. "Anita's dead. They found her yesterday… Someone had…" The girl suddenly leaned away from the phone, and Edward heard vomit. But, that no longer mattered. Anita was dead. Anita, his soul mate, his truest friend had died. He tightened his jaw and set down the phone, very slowly.
"What is it, Honey?" Donna asked. Edward barely heard her over the blood rushing through his ears. This Malcolm was going to pay and he was going to pay in blood, tissue and other visceral things. Edward turned, stepping silently past Donna and heading for the front door. Without a word, he left, planning on heading straight to St. Louis.