Healing Wounds | By : Sylver Category: Anita Blake > Crossovers > AB/BtVS Views: 5402 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Anita Blake series, nor BtVS. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Asher looked down at the unconscious girl with something akin to reverence. She was truly a vision to behold. Her hair spread out across the pillow like flames, her skin pale and glowing. In his long years, he had seen beauty so overwhelming that it would make most grown men cry, but he had never seen anything like her.
Jean-Claude sat upon the edge of the bed, where Jason had deposited the surprise guest, and looked at her with curiosity. She was beautiful, although he was never too partial to redheads; they tended to be far too temperamental. What really piqued his interest were all the small markings painted upon her body. The master vampire knew a thing or two about the supernatural, obviously, but these were undoubtedly an indication of some sort of witchcraft, and that, unfortunately, was something he knew very little about. He considered briefly discussing the situation with Anita, she did after all know quite a bit more about the subject than he did, but if he were to do so, he would have to admit that a similar situation had happened once already, and he did not want to open that can of worms unless absolutely necessary.
It had happened a few months before; a man had just seemingly appeared out of thin air in the middle of the street, naked. The event occurred in front of ‘The Laughing Corpse’ which Jean-Claude had recently started opening for lunchtime shows. The dark vampire himself had been fast asleep at the time, dead to the world. However, Mike, the new daytime manager, had watched the whole thing. The pale man had just suddenly appeared and then promptly began to smoke and flame from being in contact with the sunlight. Mike had helped him, dragging him inside and keeping an eye on him until later when the Master of the City was awake and could deal with the situation.
They had brought the naked man to the Circus, wrapped in a blanket, but neither Jean-Claude nor Asher knew what to make of him. He was rambling about some ‘hellmouth’ and the end of the world. Jean-Claude did his best to calm him; they did finally discern that his name was Spike and that he believed he was a vampire. Both Jean-Claude and Asher could sense the power rolling off of him, but it was unlike anything they had felt before. A vampire has a certain feel to them, but this was different. Then they made the mistake of offering their guest someone to feed on. They were hesitant to do it, not wanting to put one of their people at the mercy of the mysterious man, but Spike was obviously in need of nourishment, and they were hopeful that he would make more sense once he was calm and well fed. Jason had volunteered for the job, but the second Spike’s face morphed to that of his demon visage, all hell broke loose.
Asher and Jean-Claude had both rushed in to stop him, pushing Jason aside. But, while the two master vampires did seem to have the advantage of surprise, Spike had strength unlike any vampire they had met before. He threw both men off like they were nothing and tried to make his escape, losing his blanket along the way, which bunched around his ankles, tripping him. The moment he fell, Jean-Claude, Asher and Jason all tackled him and managed to knock him out with a table lamp. They put him in one of the coffins reserved for punishments, and secured it with extra crosses and chains.
For three months Jean-Claude had been thinking of that day and the vampire-monster he had been forced to take prisoner. Many times he had gone to stand next to that coffin, listening for the occasional heartbeat, but never finding one. Logic would dictate that this meant that he was well and truly dead, because while their hearts could go for quite some time without a sound, even a vampire’s heart does eventually beat. However, this one was different, and it disturbed him. Jason and the others who had guarded him during the first month before they were sure he couldn’t escape his bonds, had even heard him moving in his coffin at all hours of the day and night, seemingly unaffected by the rising of the sun. Jean-Claude had thought long and hard on the matter, discussing it with Asher at length, and only one vampire could even compare with what this one was. Only one other vampire could shift form, or escape the sleep of death during the daylight hours, or at least according to legend, and that was her, the Mother of all Vampires.
And now, there was another one. It was true that this small girl was giving off all the signs of being human, including a heartbeat and steady breathing, but she also had immense waves of power rolling off of her. She didn’t feel like a vampire, but then again, neither did Spike. His first instinct was to throw her into a locked coffin as well, but he needed some answers. Two super beings just appearing in his territory from out of nowhere was beyond disconcerting. What if there were more? What if it was some sort of attempt to take over his territory? Jean-Claude doubted it, but he had to be sure, he needed to know what was happening, and hoped this girl would be more coherent than the man that had preceded her. Besides, judging by the way Asher was gazing longingly at the creature, he suspected that his longtime friend and former lover would have some objections to putting this girl in a box.
Jean-Claude was torn from his thoughts however, when the door to the room was slammed open by an irate Anita with her gun drawn. She glanced at the scene before her with a combination of concern and anger. She soon realized however that things seemed to be under control, and holstered her Browning feeling a bit embarrassed for bursting in on them. But her temper had had not cooled any.
“What the hell is going on, Jean-Claude?” she growled at him.
“Ma petite, what are you doing here? I was under the impression you were working tonight,” Jean-Claude replied, rising gracefully and striding toward her, kissing her gently as he tried to distract her from the situation.
“Can the ‘ma petite’ crap. I just stopped by to pick up a lighter jacket, and I see Damien acting all suspicious, which can only mean that you’re up to something and you’ve told him not to say anything. By the time I finally got him to spill the beans, he said something about ‘another monster’ appearing out of thin air. Funny thing though is I don’t see any monsters,” then glancing around at the vampires and werewolf, she amended this, “Well, none I didn’t already know anyway. All I see is a naked girl that you were just fawning over.”
Jean-Claude chuckled in that way that was so intimate that it made things go tight low in her body. He ran his hand lightly across her cheek, undeterred by her hostile looks. “Oh, ma petite, you are so beautiful when you are jealous. Do you really think any other woman could ever sway my attention away from you?”
Without intending to, she found herself leaning in to his caress, her anger quickly dissipating. “Okay then, who is she? And what did Damien mean by, ‘another’ monster?”
“I’m unsure whether I can give you adequate answer to your inquiries. The former is somewhat of a mystery until the girl wakes, and the latter would take some time to explain, and I’m sure you do not want to be late for your next appointment.”
Anita opened her mouth to protest, but just then the girl on the bed began to stir. Her lips parted slightly, as one word left her mouth with a whispered sigh, “Spike.”
To be continued…
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