Let Me Die in Your Arms

CHAPTER 6
December 19, 2019

Jean pressed his lips one last time to the now lifeless lips of his companion. He lingered there, the traces of blood in her mouth filling him with the last moments of her life. He froze unexpectedly, pulling back from her, looking at her throat, looking at her mouth, trying to feel even the tiniest thread of life still inside her. There was none.

He turned angry, flashing eyes on René. "What have you done?" His voice was no longer broken or sob-filled. There was a growling, dangerous anger to it.

"What had to be done," René responded, his voice cracking with emotion, sorrow, and regret.

Jean tried to control himself. This was not what Olivia wanted. How could René violate her like this, turn her into exactly what she asked not to be turned into, and if she had changed her mind, why didn't she tell Jean herself and allow him to sire her? He had asked her enough times. "Did … did she ask you to? Did she agree?" There was a hint of pain in his voice, a shadow of rejection just as he'd had the first time he had seen René's mark on her.

René raised his chin almost defiantly. "No. She didn't."

Jean snarled at him, yellow flashing in his eyes, a stark contrast to the tenderness with which he was holding Olivia's body. "When she is taken care of, m'frere, we are going to have words." His tone was barbed and almost vicious. René suddenly did not look forward to those "words."

Baby and Sam came into the beach house to find the air thick with the smell of blood, death and animosity. No words were being spoken between René and Jean, but Jean's anger was palpable. Once he broke his stare from René, he spoke authoritatively to Sam.

"Come, take her. She's dead." His voice was cold and hard and very unlike him, especially considering he was talking about Olivia, the woman who had owned a large portion of his heart for almost two decades, the woman Baby had always suspected might one day be more than Jean's companion. Now he spoke of her as if she were nothing more then another dead body in a sea of them.

René drew up into a ball in the corner, his face turned up to Baby, tear stains and anguish plainly written on his face. She moved immediately toward him, though she spoke to Jean. "What's happened?" There was obviously more to this than Olivia's passing, though that would understandably upset both her sons. Jean gently handed Liv's lifeless body to Sam, who settled onto the bed, holding her tenderly. Baby saw the blood and marks on the dead woman's neck … and recognized them immediately as René's. She then turned to him and repeated herself, this time more urgently. "What's happened?!"

Jean took two steps toward his younger brother, his eyes shooting arrows of fire into him, his voice and manner detached and unemotional. "René has seen fit to turn Olivia."

"What?" Baby turned to Jean, obviously surprised at the development. "Did she change her mind? I thought she didn't want to be turned."

Jean moved with a menacing quiet toward his brother. "She didn't."

He didn't have to say any more. Baby and Sam were both obviously rocked by this. René had violated one of Spike's most sacred rules … give them the choice, turn no one against their will.

Baby sighed heavily. She wanted to question his actions, but she couldn't do it in good conscience since she herself had considered doing the same thing. She had recognized, as René had, that Jean needed Olivia. Watching her wasting away was killing him. She couldn't bear the thought of Jean being alone, she felt enough guilt at having taken René from him--to stand by and watch his human lover of so many years be taken from him by death was too much for her … just as it obviously had been too much for René. She was somewhat stunned he had actually gone through with it. She had considered it, yes, but to actually do it, to change her against her will was not only a violation Olivia's trust but Spike's and the entire family's.

Jean stopped in front of René, still mercilessly glaring at him, still cold, still detached, still keeping his anger so tightly controlled that it was beginning to frighten Baby. "He knows exactly what he did." He snarled at his brother. "Get up."

René couldn't meet his eyes any longer and looked away.

"Get up!" Jean was insistent, letting loose a tiny flare of anger, enough that René couldn't resist standing immediately, as if Jean somehow had control of him. He braced himself against the wall so that he could stand, but before he could get his balance, Jean hit him hard across the jaw, sending him flying half way across the room. Jean both heard and felt René's jawbone shatter beneath his fist. He didn't care. He moved quickly to where René was struggling to his feet again and spun-kicked him back where he had been cowering on the floor. This time Jean pulled him to a standing position himself and backhanded him, pulled him to his feet and backhanded him again.

"Jean, no!" Baby thought it time to intercede. One look at René's expression told her to back off. She did, reluctantly, moving closer to the doorway and away from her sons. Sam had known from the moment he entered not to interfere. This was between the brothers, and it wasn't going to be pretty. He had a fierce loyalty for his sire, but he also knew whenever René had fucked up. And René had really fucked up. He wouldn't allow Jean to kill him, but he would not stand in the way of him beating some sense into René, and apparently René didn't want to stop Jean either.

René did not fight back. It was as if he wanted Jean to beat the hell out of him, punish him, even dust him for what he had done. He did not want to live with the guilt of what he'd done to someone they both loved. Jean seemed more than happy to oblige. Never had any of them seen such quiet fury exploding from him. Sam remained quiet; Baby stayed out of the way, consciously deciding to not interfere unless it began to threaten their lives. René never made a sound. He took what Jean gave him, every punch and kick, every brutal assault … he took it, silently.

The beating continued for what seemed like an hour, as Jean dealt René blow after crippling blow only to find his brother standing again, bruised and bleeding, willing, almost begging, to take more. Jean finally collapsed in exhaustion, his knuckles bloodied, his anger somewhat quenched, his pain beginning to break through and crack the icy mantle he had put on the moment she died in his arms. He turned his back on his bruised and beaten brother and snarled at his mother. "Get him out of here."

Baby knew better than to disagree at this point and moved to help René up, gathering his clothes, and letting him lean on her as they moved toward the bedroom door. He was in as bad shape physically as Jean was mentally. He could hardly move, both of his eyes swollen shut, blood dripping from his mouth and a nasty cut above his left eye; it looked like one of his legs was broken, and his shoulder was dislocated. When she grabbed René around the waist to help him move, he winced. Ribs were broken as well. The pair made slow progress toward the door, Baby having to almost carry her consort.

Jean took Olivia's body from Sam once again, setting her down onto the still-rumpled covers and tucking her in as if she were sleeping. He leaned over her and kissed her softly on the forehead. Sam joined Baby and René.

"Maman?" Jean was beginning to lose control of the grief that was threatening to engulf him, his voice cracking beneath the strain. His eyes remained on Olivia as he smoothly stroked her hair. "Call Papa. He needs to know. He may need to come."

"Okay, Jean, whatever you say."

"Now, go away."

Ordinarily she'd have bristled at being dismissed, but she could feel Jean crumbling inside, through René's bond with both of them, and she knew he had only seconds before he could no longer appear to be the fountain of strength he had always been.

The trio left quietly, leaving him alone with her. He continued stroking her hair and straightening the linens around her, covering her nude body. Taking a washcloth from the bathroom he ran it under warm water and washed her, removing all traces of dried blood and sweat and the stench of death. He dressed her in one of her favorite nightshirts, a silky black thing that felt good against her skin.

"Shhhhhh, it's okay, cher. Jean will take care of everything." He finished tending to her, then removed his shirt and slipped beneath the covers beside her, wrapping her in his arms and holding her to him while whispering softly. He stayed there with her in the bed they had shared all these years, holding her, loving her, always in physical contact with her, watching over her, protecting her, caring for her … for three days.

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January 28, 2016
This segment was written by Ebony Silvers for "Dancing in the Dark." Used with her permission.

René leaned down and kissed Baby on the cheek. He ignored the sight of Jack Niemczyk's hand resting on her leg and the scent of Jack's seed on her. René had seen them earlier. It seemed Bébé had found another one that liked to do it in public.

"So you two are off then?" Baby asked.

"Oui, Maman," René grinned. "Me and Jean, we have us a little… appointment with an old friend." The glint in his eye made it obvious that both the appointment and the old friend were the shy and familiar blonde standing behind him holding so tightly to Jean Claude's hand. The half-smirk on Jean's face made it obvious that the appointment entailed nakedness and multiple orgasms for all involved.

"You two are incorrigible." Baby smiled and shook her head. "Olivia, don't let these scamps take advantage of you, dear."

René laughed. "Oh Maman, we already did that! Years ago!"

Baby shook her head. "So you did. Well, have fun then."

Jean's eyes flashed for an instant and his smile lit the bar. "Oh, we will, Maman; we will!"

René laughed. "Oh yeah, we all gonna have lots of fun." He turned around and kissed Jean quickly then raised the blonde's hand to his lips. "Won't we, cher?" She smiled bashfully and he laughed again. "Come, Olivia, m' petite fille. Me and Jean, we gonna show you a really good time tonight."

Jean placed an arm around Olivia. "Yeah." His accent was deep and luxurious. "You remember how good me and Renny are at that, heh?"

She blushed and didn't seem to know where to look. She cast her big, dark eyes at the floor.

Baby was rather surprised, that after all this time, Jean could still embarrass the woman. It wasn't as though Olivia was unfamiliar with the sexual openness of the family. She'd been one of Jean's regular lovers for nearly fifteen years. She had the freedom of the house on Rue Royal and Baby was never surprised to find Olivia in bed with Jean and René. But then Olivia always had been a timid little thing.

Baby had watched her sons cut a swath through the female population of the bar. The resulting frown and pouty expressions when the two dropped their court of admirers to envelop the unassuming Olivia in hugs and kisses the instant she walked in the door had been highly amusing. After talking to her exclusively for over half an hour, they'd pulled her out onto the dance floor. The resulting show had raised more than a couple of eyebrows, though it was actually fairly mild compared to some of the public displays Baby herself had performed in this very bar. Hell, it was mild compared to what she and Jack had just done, though they had been relatively discrete. Nonetheless, it had been rather thrilling to watch Jean Claude and René tease and torment the woman. Jean had wrapped himself around her from behind while René had placed himself in front of her. Sandwiched between them, they had proceeded to do everything short of completely stripping her that the two could think of. Her blouse was still half-unbuttoned from René's clever fingers and her skirt hiked up slightly on one side from Jean's exploring hand. Baby smiled a bit at the memory of watching them. Jean had been particularly aggressive, sliding both his hands under Olivia's blouse to cup her breasts and lift them for René's delectation. The black-haired vampire had been unabashed in his appreciation of his brother's action, opening her conservative blouse. He'd proceeded to kiss and lick the exposed portions of her golden skin. René had bitten and worried her concealed nipples through the pale pink satin of her bra while she gasped and threw her head back against Jean's broad chest. Jean had lowered his own head to kiss her soundly, his tongue seeking out every secret of her mouth while his hand worried whatever breast René's mouth wasn't busy with. His other hand stole unashamedly up her leg, brazenly sliding his hand over her hip and around between her and René. He had cupped his hand over her sex, feeling and pressing his fingers against the pink silk of her panties. Jean had held her against him with that talented hand sweetly tormenting her while he ground his arousal against her in time to the music. René pulled Jean from her lips so he could kiss his brother. The two men pressed the woman tightly between them, rocking in perfect time to the music. René had finally released Jean's mouth and claimed Olivia's lips instead, Jean settling for worrying her neck and earlobe. With René's fingers pinching and rolling her nipples and Jean, his hand now inside her panties, stroking her clitoris, the poor girl had orgasmed in the middle of the dance floor. Her cries of pleasure were stifled by René's hungry mouth while she was held upright by Jean's strong arm about her waist. No wonder the little thing looked rumpled.

Baby had thought Jack was going to pass out a time or two, though whether it would be from embarrassment on Olivia's behalf or lust at what the three were doing, she couldn't be sure. Baby compared his blatant interest in the floorshow Jean orchestrated to his reaction to what she and Spike had done at Amato's. It seemed Jack's horizons had all ready broadened significantly.

Baby kissed René gently on the cheek and grinned. "I'll see you both in the morning?"

Jean surrendered his companion to René's embrace so he could say his good-byes. "Mais oui, Maman," he said and gave her a kiss. "But it won't be too early." He frowned briefly. "Of course, I do need to be back at the house. There are reports that some of our minions have disappeared. I don't like it. I need to get in touch with…"

She laughed. "Jean! Please, take a night off for a change?"

He glanced over his shoulder at his oh-so-beautiful brother and the oh-so-appealing woman in his arms. Jean had a sudden mental image of the two of them sans clothing in his bed and recalled how very sweet that could be. He grinned down at his mother. "You're right, Maman. I do need some time off."

Her smile was soft and caring and Jean remembered why he loved her. "Good. I worry about you working too hard, my Jean. You have fun," she told him. "Promise me?"

He kissed her again. "I will, cher Maman. I promise."

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December 12, 2019

"Jean?" Baby let herself into Olivia's beach house. It was deathly quiet and dark, even though it was bright outside, as if the place were empty.

"Jean?" She set a bag down on the counter in the small kitchen and began turning on some lights.

She had spent almost three days tending to René's injuries, contacting Spike and telling him what had happened, and trying to help Sam keep a handle on René's holdings within the city so that things didn't collapse under the strain. Easy had shown up from Baltimore, unwilling to discuss why he had left Becca, and set to brooding in his old room. She would need to address that later as René obviously had no interest in quizzing him about why they had left Mobile in the first place much less why he had returned. Spike and Cordelia were due to arrive later that night.

René had finally pulled from his self-imposed prison of guilt and grief enough to communicate to Baby what was going on and tell her to get to Jean, that he needed her more than René did right now. She had gathered some blood and supplies and gotten to the beach house at midday because René had been so insistent. He was so dreadfully worried about his brother that he had deliberately opened his link from Jean to Baby just a tiny bit so that she could feel what he was feeling. She had almost run out of the house into the sunlight in an effort to get to him. Sam had convinced her that bursting into flames would not help anyone and to let one of the house servants take her over in their specially equipped and protected delivery van and get her inside safely. She had griped the entire way that speed limits were for wusses.

"Jean?" She was getting concerned, as she wandered around the house, until she came to the bedroom and could just make out the figure of her oldest son, lying on the bed with his dead lover still in his arms. She lowered her voice. "Jean?"

"Shhhh, Maman, she sleeping." He pulled Olivia closer, nuzzling his face into her hair.

Baby's heart froze. It was worse than she had thought. She hurried to the kitchen, warmed a mug of blood and brought it to her distressed and hallucinating son. She sat on the edge of the bed offering it to him. "Jean, here, darling, take this. Drink it. Please."

Jean looked at her with dull, lifeless, empty eyes. He shook his head. "No, Maman, I have to take care of Liv. She need me when she wake up."

Baby set the mug on the night table and turned on the light, then moved closer to Jean, pulling him to her slightly and cradling his head to her bosom for a moment, before tilting his chin up towards her face and speaking to him gently. "I know, m'fils. I'll hold her while you eat, but you must eat, Jean."

He was still reluctant.

"You want to be strong when she wakes up, don't you?" God, she hated manipulating him, but she could think of no other way right now. He was in bad shape.

Jean thought for a moment, then seemed to accept that and gently removed his arms from around Liv, covering her tightly with the covers and kissing her on the forehead before turning to Baby. He took a deep, unneeded breath and nodded to her. She handed him the warm blood and gathered him into her arms while he drank mindlessly. She had no idea what to say. All she could do was sit with him and see that he had something to eat and hopefully he would begin to heal and recover quickly.

"Jean? When did you sleep last?"

"She sleeping, Maman."

"I know, baby, but you need to sleep, too. When did you sleep last?"

Jean wrinkled his brow in thought. "Before René came."

"That's three days, cher, three days without food or sleep. You cannot take care of Liv like that, Jean. You have to be better to yourself so you can be better to her."

His eyes filled with tears. "René hurt her." He was heartbroken; his voice sounded like the pitiful cry of a sad little boy.

"I know, my love. He didn't mean to. He wanted her to stay with you, to be with you always. He didn't want to hurt her."

Innocence and his child-like quality cut through to her. "But … he did hurt her."

"Yes, my darling, he did. And he's very sorry." She began to stroke his hair, pulling him into her arms again and holding him as he had been holding Olivia. "Shhhhhh, it's okay. I'll take care of everything." The now-empty cup tumbled into her lap as she felt Jean fall asleep against her.

The cell phone in her hip holster blared its too-loud, obnoxious tune. "Yes?" she answered. "Yes, he's okay, he's sleeping now … No, I think he's been here with her the whole time, hasn't slept or eaten." She shook her head. "I know, I'll stay until someone else can get here. Is René okay? Okay, thanks, Sam. I'll let you know if we need anything." She turned the phone off completely and slapped it closed. Holding onto Jean tightly once again, she tried to figure out how to make this all better, how to heal the pain both of her sons were in, how to make the unwanted transition easier for Olivia, how to keep Spike from punishing René, how to … her mind seemed to lock around the most important thing … how to keep her family together for another day.

CHAPTER 9

January 4, 2020

Olivia sat at her desk in René's office in the big, pink house in Mobile, finishing up the year-end accounts and putting the finishing touches on the financial reports Sam was waiting for. Some of the lesser groups had been skimming from their tribute, and it was showing. Sam would not be happy. She'd long given up whether or not René minded. Sam took care of business, she'd learned that early. René did what he wanted and preferred not to get involved unless it became a matter of being disrespectful to the Master and his family. Then he'd make an appearance, dust a few rebels to remind them why he was Master, and the masses would be quietly obedient from then after. Obedience to Sam meant they would be spared the Master's wrath.

Although Liv's life had unalterably changed, she'd fallen back into a comfortably familiar routine. She worked on the financial and business dealings of René's empire just as she had done the last few years she was human. From time to time she still played at the Pink Pony Pub or crashed at her beach house, but for the most part she remained at René's mansion, keeping the household running, and stayed in his bed between him and Jean, if Baby wasn't there, and with just Jean if she was. And when that happened the house literally hummed with sex. Jean and Olivia's links to René would spread into their bed as well. Though in two separate rooms, it was as if all four of them were together. It was quite the rush.

The bond with her sire had become the most important anchor to her life; they were connected in a way she could not understand before and now could not imagine living without. René's presence made her blossom, though her heart still belonged to Jean. When both of them were with there, her life was perfection. She couldn't have hoped for the happy and pain-free life she now led. There were times when she felt the emptiness of a cold heart and no soul, but overall those things had been replaced with relationships and love that she'd have never thought possible. She was different, but she was the same.

Only a week after she had been turned, Spike felt she was strong enough to hunt with the family. It had been the most glorious experience of her life. She had heard Cordelia and Wes and Jack talk about the thrill of hunting with them and the spectacular "activities" which followed, and she had been privy to a little of the post-hunt intimacy with both Jean and René, but she had never experienced the thrill of it all for herself. The excitement of tracking down a criminal, of saving an innocent, of feeding from the hot blood of someone as they perished in her arms and the heat that spread through her body from it. She had almost come out of her skin with want after that first hunt. Her clothes didn't come off fast enough, she wasn't touched quickly enough, and she wanted Jean inside her instantly. He had happily obliged, and the bonding which followed with him, René, Baby, Spike, Sam and a few of the other siblings had been one of the most profound experiences of her existence.

It had also turned into a valuable lesson of control for her, keeping the demon at bay while still enjoying the thrill of the kill and the all-consuming fire of passion afterward. She quickly recognized how easy it would be to let the demon loose when her body and spirit were so out of control. She took particular note of how it felt and how to stay in command of things. Jean had been incredible in helping her conquer it and still enjoy it. René had touched her mind repeatedly as well as her body in an effort to help her know and understand. Afterwards she felt glorious and powerful and, most of all, loved.

Now, things were returning to business as usual. She still had adjustments to make, but Sam was very helpful. His continued presence, combined with Jean and René, made her feel strong and confident in what she was doing and what she was feeling.

Today, however, she felt a little unsettled. Jean and René had gone to New Orleans to take care of some important family business. She had convinced them both that with Sam's help she would be fine and promised not to go out hunting on her own. She was well aware that she wasn't ready for that, and at this point in her new life she wouldn't have felt comfortable doing it anyway. She promised to stick close to Sam and to the house until they returned. On the one hand she was pleased they felt so confident in her abilities; on the other, she knew she would miss them terribly. She hadn't slept alone since she had been turned.

As the night dragged on, she became more and more uncomfortable with them gone. Sam noticed it in her and stayed close, and even touched René's mind a bit to let him know they needed to wrap their business up in a hurry. She was restless. After 2 o'clock he didn't leave the room again, casually moving closer and closer to her while they both worked until he couldn't stand her anxiety any longer and wrapped his arms around her tightly from behind, holding her to him.

"They'll be back soon, sweetheart. Do you want to stay with me tonight? We're not getting any work done anyway."

Olivia leaned back into him and let out a heavy sigh. She'd had no idea how much she had needed that reassurance until those strong arms engulfed her and made her feel safe again. She nodded. Staying with Sam was a good idea. René being so far away left her feeling vulnerable. Sam always made her feel protected.

"I know it's early, but let's go ahead and turn in. We'll get a fresh start on things tomorrow." He moved to her side and reached his hand out to her. She took it gratefully, her soft smile saying everything. They shut down the office and headed up to Sam's rooms about 3 a.m. A little after 4 a.m. their world exploded in a blaze of blinding pain and silence.

************************************

By dawn the majority of the screaming and wailing in the house had begun to die down. It had taken almost three hours for Sam to get the household under control again and gather everyone into the kitchen to discuss what to do. Coffee and blood were set out for those who needed either or both. Sam had made countless calls to New Orleans to see if he could find out what happened. He'd gotten no answer.

From the hollow ache in his own heart it was evident what had happened. René was dead. All bonds with him had been broken. They were no longer his children or lovers. No one bound them together any longer. He was gone, as if he had never existed, and his absence left a gaping hole in every one of them.

Most of the children couldn't function or wandered about unfocused and shattered. Some of them still cried softly but were trying to gather themselves together, the prideful children of René Beaumont, Master of Mobile. Sam buried his grief and his emptiness and channeled his energy into finding out what had happened and figuring out what they could or should do. Consulting Spike seemed the most logical answer, but right now even that seemed impossible.

Olivia was catatonic. The warmth and love that had surrounded and supported her in her few weeks as a vampire were gone. Her bond with her sire was shattered. She was filled with nothingness. To make it worse, her companion was in much the same shape. All she could feel of him through their bond was agony, grief, and a wish to die. It infected her like a virus, leaving her demon to play tricks on her and do things that she wouldn't have dreamed of doing a few hours before.

Sam was most worried about her and tried his best to stay in close contact with her, touching her if possible. He had Easy on the other side of her, holding her hand, talking to her softly trying to convince her everything was okay. He knew better. He had felt that shattering emptiness, too. He knew that things would never be the same again and he ached to hear the voice and feel the touch of his sire again. He knew they all did.

When the phone rang, everyone in the kitchen seemed to startle. Sam answered it and took it to the other room. He wasn't sure he could hold himself together while getting the bad news and he didn't want the others to see him lose it entirely.

It was Spike. He tried to explain as best he could through his broken sobs what had happened to René and how bravely he had died. He wanted René's children to be proud of the man he was, it was the only thing he could give them right now. Sam stood tall, even alone in the hallway, accepting what was told to him and preparing to share it with the others. He had the presence of mind to extend condolences to his grandsire before asking him what should be done in Mobile. He was told that things would be decided in a day or so and to just sit tight for now, allowing as few people as possible to know that René was gone.

Before they hung up, Sam expressed his concern for Olivia. "Sire, " he said, having never been comfortable calling Spike by his name. "She's so young still. I'm afraid we're going to lose her."

They spoke for a few more minutes, then Sam hung up the phone and returned to the others. The kitchen was silent, no breath, no sobs, simply silence. He gently explained to everyone that their fears were correct. Their sire had been killed. He had died nobly, protecting those he loved. Sobs of agony filled the room. Sam sat quietly at the head of the table, in René's seat, wrapped his arms around Olivia and cried for the first time in his life.

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January 8, 2020

"Do I take her to Rue Royale or her flat?" Easy was still shaky, but, other than Sam, he was the only one of René's children who could possibly pull this off right now. Most of the others had taken to their rooms, remaining wrapped in each other's arms, sleeping, weeping quietly, or just staring into nothingness trying to sort their own thoughts. They had done as he had hoped they would, sought solace in each other. No one hunted. No one left the house.

"Rue Royale. Take her straight to Spike, and Jean if he's seeing anyone yet." He thought for a moment. "I don't care if Jean is seeing anyone or not, take her to him! Maybe just his scent will reach her, but hopefully something will. She won't last much longer like this." Sam chewed at his lower lip. "Maybe I should take her myself."

"No, Sam, I can do this, I promise you. You're needed here."

This much was true. Spike's plans to keep René's territories within the family were complex and would need Sam's personal touch. If he left now, no doubt everything would fold and a territorial war would most likely break out. He had to pass the responsibility of Olivia onto Easy if things were to work out for them all. He only hoped it would be enough to get her there with Spike and Jean. He hoped they could reach her somehow.

He embraced Easy, whispering to him. "Take care of her, Father, we're both counting on you." Sam almost always referred to Easy as "Father." It was his way of respecting what Easy had been in life, even though his association with the church could not be what it once was. He was the religious heart of their family, for both the redeemed and unredeemed. His position as liaison between Spike's family and the Vatican made him well-known as a man of God in an unlikely place.

Sam made sure Olivia was warmly bundled in the front seat of the car, then kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Be strong, little sister. I love you."

Easy made good time getting to New Orleans. He had left the moment the sun had dipped low enough. The entire trip he spoke softly and lovingly to Olivia, telling her where they were in the drive, what they were going to do when they arrived, who they were going to see. He avoided mention of René, partly because he was afraid it would upset her, and partly because he was afraid it would upset him. She blinked occasionally, but mostly she just stared out the windshield, unmoving. He played some of her favorite piano pieces on the CD player, Horowitz mostly, lots of Chopin. He even put Billie Holliday in for a while, thinking it might trigger something for her. Still, there was no reaction.

By the time he reached Rue Royale he was becoming seriously concerned about the situation. Sam had warned him not to expect anything from her, but he somehow thought getting her out of the house and closer to Jean would do something to bring her out of the self-imposed prison she appeared to be in. She was still completely shut down.

Cordelia met him at the car, a constant stream of instructions and information tumbling from her mouth. Apparently a lot had happened in their time on the road. She tried to explain that René was back, but he was not in the same body and so his links with his children were still broken, and something about an alternate reality, but Easy didn't really understand any of it. He was too worried about Olivia and not really sure what he was supposed to do about all this.

Cordy suddenly stopped talking and stared at Olivia.

"Oh my God." Her voice was filled with sadness. "She's just like Baby. Baby was in this same kind of … oh my God. Let's get her inside."

Not sure where to take her once they were inside the house, Cordy and Easy helped her to an overstuffed chair in the parlor, settling her in comfortably and again trying to get some kind of response from her. There was nothing. She only stared straight ahead, blinking occasionally.

Cordelia and Easy settled on the divan where they could watch her closely. They wanted her to feel the familiarity of the house, the close proximity of Jean, and hopefully make some progress back. They sat patiently and spoke quietly, Cordy explaining more slowly and in more detail about the evil René from the other dimension dusting their René and how he had been brought back into the evil René's body who was then vanquished somehow. He was with Spike and Jean and Baby now that they had gotten her out of her comatose state. And they were all spending an inordinate amount of time in bed. Cordy had no desire to interrupt them, even for Olivia. There was nothing for them to do but wait.

Both of them became visibly uneasy as the house became filled with the scent of arousal and sexual activity going on in the house. Cordy excused herself to go find appropriate rooms for Liv and Easy and returned quickly, looking a little flushed.

"Do you want to stay with her or in a room nearby?"

"No power on earth could make me leave her."

Cordelia smiled. "That's what I thought, but I did want to offer. I've had Jean's room made up for you both. He, uh, apparently won't be needing it."

Easy gathered Olivia into his arms and carried her to Jean's room, Cordy helped him remove her clothes, and they both tucked her in. Cordy made sure Easy had something to eat. From the look of him he hadn't been feeding, and she suddenly feared for all of the children back in Mobile if Easy was the one in the best shape to make the trip to New Orleans. She made a mental note to have Spike or Jean or René contact Sam tomorrow and give him an update. There were things that would need to be addressed and taken care of if his children and his empire were to survive.

After he had eaten, Easy slipped into the bed next to Olivia and pulled her into his arms. He realized Jean's room was the perfect place for them. She seemed to visibly relax surrounded by the scent of her companion. In fact, Easy himself felt more secure and comfortable as well. He had always liked and trusted Jean; being here made him feel for the first time as if everything would be all right.

Just as he started to drift off to sleep, he felt her move in his arms, turning toward him and nuzzling in closer. It was the first deliberate move she'd made since the bond was cut with her sire. He brushed the hair away from her face, whispering softly to her, trying to pull her from the dark place she seemed trapped inside.

"Jean?" Her voice was almost inaudible, a pleading, pathetic sound as if she were searching for him but didn't expect to ever find him again.

Easy sat bolt upright, bringing the clinging Olivia with him. "Cordelia!"

She appeared in the doorway in seconds, apparently not wanting to be too far from them in case she was needed.

"Get Jean!" Easy ordered. "I don't care whose bed you have to drag him from!!"

Cordelia had never seen him this commanding before and found herself obeying him without considering the consequences or possible embarrassment involved. She ran down the hall to Spike's room. Sex literally glowed from the doorway, and she cringed at the thought of what she was about to interrupt. She didn't know. She just quietly opened the door and went in. It's not as if she'd never been in the middle of this herself before; somehow, remembering that made it a bit easier. Her eyes adjusted and she began searching the tangle of undulating arms, legs and torsos looking for Jean. She cursed under her breath and everyone stopped, all four pair of eyes looking at her with an odd combination of annoyance and concern.

She swallowed in a dry throat. "Jean … please. It's important."

"It had better be," a grumbly voice from the bottom of the pile growled. Cordy didn't know if it was Spike or René or Baby and suddenly didn't care as she quickly escaped the room and waited for Jean outside.

A few moments later he joined her in the hallway, having slipped on only a pair of jeans. Cordy tried not to notice that he reeked of sex, his voice was low and seductive, and he was sporting a hard on that no jeans made could have hidden.

"This had better be good," he purred. "Or else you'll have a great deal to make up for here, darlin."

Cordy felt a bit swoony but recovered quickly, though her thoughts had already taken her to a lovely, lovely place of nakedness and non-stop Jean action. She coughed and cleared her throat, interrupting her quickly developing fantasy.

"Liv … she's here."

"What?? Where?"

"She's in bad shape, Jean. Apparently all of René's children are in trouble, but she in particular because she's so young, and … come on, please!" Her voice had taken an urgent turn, and Jean brushed past her, already having traced his companion to his room.

He stormed in to find Easy sitting in his bed holding a mostly unconscious Olivia. "Goddammit! Why didn't someone tell me the moment she got here?"

Jean never cursed like that, but two seconds inside his room he realized how close she was to not making it at all. He was furious. How dare they not let him know … how dare he not know himself when she got here. Guilt descended on him like a storm. He had been too wrapped up in René and Baby and Spike and had pretty much locked himself away from anyone that wasn't them.

Jean was at Olivia's other side in moments, Easy handing her over to him wordlessly. He slipped from the bed and the room, bringing Cordelia with him, while Jean was already whispering words of love and affection to the drowsy woman now clinging tightly to him.

As the door closed they could hear her voice murmuring inside … "Jean? Jean? Oh m'Jean, I got lost. I couldn't find you."

"I'm here, m'petite, I'm here. Your Jean is here." He was crushing her to him, stroking her hair and covering her face with kisses. She stirred slightly in his arms, but she was very weak, still she kept trying to talk to him.

"I couldn't find you. And René, where is my René? He's not here anymore." Her pale hand reached for her heart, pain and loneliness permeated her voice to the point it broke Jean's heart.

"René is here, my love, you can see him later. You stay here with me now. I'm here. I won't leave you, I'm here." He wrapped himself around her. She felt frail and fragile and not at all the strong woman he'd been with in Mobile less than a week ago. How could this have happened so quickly? How could she have crumbled from the pillar she was to this shadow?

It struck him hard, making his throat squeeze. René. It hadn't registered when Cordy told him in the hallway that all René's children were suffering. Of course they were. They had lost their sire, their bond was broken, they were all set adrift like ships with no rudder. And for someone like Olivia, who wasn't even a month old as a vampire, it had to be devastating. He pulled her even tighter to him, kissing her hair, murmuring love and affection to her. His hands couldn't stop petting and stroking her. He knew how empty he'd felt when René had died, and he knew he had shut himself off to everyone, blocking every bond and every connection because he couldn't deal with the pain himself. So this sweet young vampire had not only lost her sire, she had lost her companion, her lovers, all her emotional and vampire bonds. She must have felt nothing but emptiness.

Jean suddenly felt nauseous. God, what had they done to her? Tears fell from his eyes, mingling with her hair. She felt him inside her mind, weeping for her, and turned her face up toward him, becoming more and more cognizant the more he was with her and the more he opened himself to her.

"No, my sweet Jean, no, please don't cry. I'm here, I'm okay. I'm always okay as long as I can be with you. Please, don't cry, my love, don't cry." Her own eyes began to tear, partly as a reflection of him and partly because it felt so good to be with him again, to feel his arms around her and his voice and heart wrapped safely around her again.

His voice, soft and sweet, whispered to her the words they had exchanged a thousand times, "Twas not into my ear you whispered but into my heart."

She kissed him softly and replied, "Twas not my lips you kissed, but my soul."⁺

She brushed her cheek against his, her lips meeting his as he spoke around them and into them, "Soul meets soul on lover's lips." Their lips joined and drank from one another the love that was offered. She was home. She was safe. It wasn't dark inside anymore.

They trembled together, trying to get closer and closer to one another until all clothes were shed and there was nothing to keep them apart. Their hands and lips ached for each other and quenched each other through the night. They fed each other physically and emotionally with their passion and their blood, finally collapsing into sleep just before dawn came. They remained there unmoving and undisturbed through the day and well into the evening, sleeping peacefully and safely in each other's love.

CHAPTER 10

January 12, 2020

The house on Rue Royale had gotten crowded over the last few days. René's death and subsequent return had caused a great stir in things and suddenly the family that had been scattered across Louisiana and Alabama was coming from everywhere to be with him, rebond with him, and just to see him for themselves.

Easy and Olivia moved over to her flat near the French Quarter once she appeared strong enough. Being near Jean had all but cured her, but feeling her sire feed from her and feeding from him once again was like a magic elixir. Her strength returned almost immediately and she appeared to become the solid, strong woman she had been.

Jean came and stayed with her most nights, to reassure himself she was okay and to be with her. He still held so much love for her it scared him sometimes. He felt he had become the luckiest man in the South. He was married to not only his beloved brother, but also bound as consort to both his parents, and he had this incredible woman who loved him more than any living thing. Surely no man had ever been as loved or as lucky as he.

Easy was using his time in New Orleans to refamiliarize himself with the workings of Spike's empire and was again in close contact with the Holy Father as well as the New Orleans Diocese. It made him feel stronger to have such important work, and even more so after he was able to rebond with his sire. Feeling that connection with René once again made all his uncertainties and insecurities melt way like ice cream in summer. He too felt strong again, so much so that he had encouraged René to return to Mobile for even a short visit to re-establish himself with all of his children. His mere suggestion had sent René out the next evening with Jean in tow for a quick trip back to reassure everyone and to reestablish that much-needed connection with his family.

Olivia and Easy had elected to stay in New Orleans a while longer. It had been awhile since either had been there for any length of time, and with Jean and René insisting they would be back the next day, they decided to take the opportunity to wander the French Quarter, taste some of the food, and enjoy the jazz they both loved so much. Things had progressed in Mobile, but still it just wasn't the same as New Orleans. Nothing was like New Orleans. Liv hadn't really even been to New Orleans since she had been turned, so it was almost like exploring a new city in many ways. She saw, heard, and smelled things she'd never noticed as a human, and they all made her almost drunk with joy and excitement. Easy had a hard time getting her to come in when it neared dawn.

Having so overdone it, she slept in way past sunset the next day. Easy checked on her to be sure she was okay, then left her a note and slipped out to go check on things at Rue Royale and visit with some of his fellow priests at the diocese. He had always enjoyed his theological discussions with Liv and Jean, but sometimes he enjoyed mixing it up with those who were as entrenched with catholic philosophy as his fellow clergy.

When he returned to Liv's flat close to midnight, she was still sleeping. He made a mental note to keep better track of her and tequila shots and then returned to the main room, curling up with a new book Brother Francis had given him on the Vatican II liturgical changes and their long-term effects on the 21st century. He was well into the third chapter when he heard Olivia screaming from the other room.

He dropped the book and ran to her, finding her sitting upright in bed, naked and covered in blood. She was plainly terrified and he climbed onto the bed, grabbing her and holding her to him. She pulled away from him, sobbing and pointing at the floor on the other side of the bed, her voice wailing in grief and terror. He leaned across her to find the body of a young man, also naked. He was dead. The cause of death was obvious: severe neck trauma and exsanguination.

Easy wrapped her in the sheet and took her out to the bathroom, running the shower and putting her inside it, washing her trembling form as best he could. She began to calm down, but was obviously still in shock. He put his hands on both sides of her face and forced her to look at him.

"Olivia? Olivia! Are you with me, sweetheart?"

She nodded. Her eyes locked onto his. She was filled with horror at what she might have done, but she began to get control over herself again as he spoke to her calmly and instructed her to wash her hair and finish bathing. He would put fresh clothes in the bathroom for her, but she was to stay in there until he told her to come out. She nodded again and tried to speak. Her voice shaky and pitiful. "Easy … did … did I do that?"

He touched her face again. "No, sweetheart, I don't think you did. I think someone is playing a sick joke. Probably someone wants to get back at the Master for something and found out you were here. You finish up now and we'll get to the bottom of this."

Easy closed the door and called Rue Royale. "How quickly can you get over here?"

By the time Spike and Baby arrived, Easy had already cleaned up Olivia's bedroom and wrapped the dead man in the bottom sheet from her bed and taken it into the other room, stashing it out of plain sight. He had collected the bloody sheet from the bathroom and left her fresh clothing, and he had washed the floor and walls with bleach to take away the stench of blood. The water was still running in the shower. He had a feeling she would be washing herself for a very long time; visions of Lady Macbeth came to mind and he quickly shoved those thoughts away.

Spike looked concerned the moment he entered the flat. Easy didn't like what he saw; he had spent the last few minutes convincing himself it was all some kind of trick or revenge being played out by some of the Master's enemies. The expression on Spike's face said that was not the case.

He examined the body, then called the two minions waiting outside. They took it away to dispose of it without a word.

"Where is she?"

"Still in the bathroom. I told her not to come out until I called her."

"Good." Spike put a strong, supportive hand on Easy's shoulder. It put him immediately more at ease, even though he knew the rest of what Spike had to say would not be good.

"The man reeked of her and no one else." He turned to his wife. "Baby, you go talk with her, settle her down and see if you can get her to sleep."

She nodded and vanished into the bedroom.

Spike explained to Easy that he feared the disconnection from her sire had put a strain on her that had allowed her demon to take control. He wasn't certain and wouldn't be until Baby had talked to her. Until then, it would be unwise to jump to conclusions or make decisions based on something that could have been an accident or, as Easy had thought, a deception of some kind.

Spike poured them both a drink and they sat down on the sofa talking about anything except their fears.

Baby returned 15 minutes later. Olivia was already asleep.

She swallowed hard--the answer was in her eyes, those beautiful golden eyes that were now filled with pain and regret. "He's all over her, not just him, but his blood. And she's fed. She wouldn't even accept my offered blood, though I guess that could be the trauma of this as much as …. " She stopped herself, realizing she was rationalizing. "She did it, Spike. She smells of bloodlust. You can feel it, you can almost see it." She chewed at her bottom lip for a moment. "She's terrified. I think she knows."

Spike turned to Easy. "When are Jean and René due back?"

Baby answered, "They're on their way back, I can feel them."

"What … what do we do, Master?" Easy hadn't spoken for quite some time, afraid that anything he said or suggested might mean Olivia's death.

"We watch her. Don't let her be alone. Ever. And we'd better tell Jean and René the moment they return. This will likely take all of us to sort out."

"What needs to be sorted out?" Jean's voice was light, almost jovial, until he saw the expressions on his parents' and Easy's faces. His face fell as he reached out to his brother in the doorway and held tightly to René. "What's happened?"

The brothers came inside Olivia's flat, Sam following behind. Greetings were exchanged, and Sam explained he'd returned with them to meet with the heads of three families not meeting their responsibilities in Mobile. Spike quizzed him a bit more on this and they quickly settled some of the details that René hadn't been briefed on yet. It would be fine, but it would need his personal attention.

They all settled in the living room and silence settled over the place like a morgue. Too many unasked questions, floated in the air, and too many emotions ran rampant amongst the family members to the point it was difficult to sort out. But the crux of things was obvious; something had gone wrong for Olivia.

Baby finally spoke up. "We can talk out loud. She is asleep in the other room. I gave her a sedative and it's not likely she'll wake up until late tomorrow." Spike took her hand and squeezed it.

"A good idea, rose, let her sleep it off, and hopefully forget what happened. We may be able to do some damage control and save things."

Jean swallowed in a dry throat. "Exactly what happened?"

Spike explained their suspicions, the evidence, and his concerns about how this might have happened. René paled, even for a vampire. He hadn't thought how his death would affect any of his children. It wouldn't have changed the outcome of what he did, but he could have made arrangements with Spike or Jean to see to his family immediately afterwards and perhaps head some of this off. He hurt for Olivia. What emptiness and abandonment she must have felt. His guilt cloud began to expand over not only him but his brother.

Jean was mentally flailing himself for not going to her immediately. He should have remembered. He should have called Sam or someone in Mobile. He should have … anything. But he had been wound up in his own grief and despair, and that had made matters worse. He had disconnected from her as well, leaving the tender, new vampire with nothing to hold onto. Still, no matter how bad things must have been for her, he couldn't believe she would kill an innocent.

"No, this just isn't possible. Olivia's not like that. She's strong and she's adapted so well. I've rarely seen anyone adjust as quickly and as solidly as she has." Jean was incredulous. He didn't believe any of it, though inside he knew there was no reason for any of them to make this up or jump to conclusions. The evidence was compelling. Even after it had been cleaned up, Jean could still smell the dead man's presence in her flat as well as his blood mingled with a sense of greed and hunger that was not characteristic of Liv at all.

René agreed, it didn't sound like Liv; they had seen no signs of the demon in any other way, not ever, not even in the beginning. She had awoken in Jean's arms and bonded immediately to both him and René and everything had gone perfectly from the moment she opened her eyes. It made no sense. None of them wanted to believe it was possible that she suddenly was losing her control.

"Except when René died. She was so weak she couldn't … she was in bad shape. You told me yourself. You both know things can happen when the bond is cut so suddenly like that. Bad things can happen." Spike was trying to be reassuring yet logical about the whole thing. It was looking bad. He had that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Visions of Philip kept trying to make their way into his head. "Very bad things," he said quietly.

"Should we want to move her back to the house?" Ever the practical man, Sam was looking for ways to protect Olivia from herself. He knew if she were back at La Maison du Rouge s'Elevé she wouldn't be able to get out or to feed without the entire household knowing about it.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now." Spike was tentative, but had good reasons. "If she gets out and kills again, they will all know it. There will be no way to head this off and it could turn ugly quickly." He thought for a moment. "Let's keep her here under close supervision. Jean," he turned toward both of his sons. "You and René come back with me and we'll check a few of our resources just to be sure we haven't missed something."

They stood and nodded, preparing for their return to the house, both of them mentally going over any details that could aid them in helping Liv conquer the demon permanently. They were both visibly worried and eager to find a solution.

Spike continued, "Baby: darlin', you and Sam see if you can find out who this guy was and if anything could tie him to Liv." They nodded, picked up his ID and personal items from the kitchen counter, and hit the streets.

"Easy, you stay here with her, do not leave her under any circumstances, even if you think she's asleep, even though she's drugged for now. Do not leave."

Easy snapped to attention like a soldier yet he still held the gentle understanding of a priest. "I understand, Master."

"If there is any problem, anything unusual, you call me immediately."

Easy nodded again. He picked up his book from the end table and went directly into Olivia's room, taking a chair with him. He closed the door and from the sound behind it, he pushed the chair against the door from the inside. Spike smiled. He was a good one, a definite keeper. René had chosen well there.

He reached out to Jean and René, one hand to each, and squeezed. "Let's get to work. We have a life to save." They left the flat, locking the door behind them.

Baby and Sam took less than an hour to accomplish their task. The man, little more than a college-aged kid, was a musician, new in town, apparently had no family and hadn't made any real friends yet. Olivia had chosen her victim well, most likely a young man trying to make a friend or get some. Unfortunately he had gotten more than he bargained for. Sam would keep an eye on the club where he was working for a few days, but they didn't expect there to be any concern over a missing man. Turnover in jazz clubs was high this time of year.

They returned to Rue Royale to find Jean on the computer, Spike pouring over books, and René pretending to read but mostly brooding. Baby took him by the hand and they went to the dining room table to research the book he had. Sometimes he just needed a bit of a hand to get into these things, even when they were important. Baby knew how worried he was. This was his childe, his childe who had not chosen to be his childe: double guilt coupons. Baby placed her hand over his and squeezed it gently, leaning in to kiss him on the temple. "We'll find a way. She'll be all right."

Hours later Jean had found nothing on the Internet. He was obviously frustrated. "How can there be this many web sites on vampires and no real information?" He slammed the lid of his laptop and went to the bookcases, taking up with the next book in Spike's stack.

Baby quietly got up and made a phone call. Fifteen minutes later Jack rang the bell. "I hear you need a vampire hacker?"

Jean smiled for the first time since he'd arrived back in New Orleans. He took Jack's hand and shook it appreciatively, then led him to the computer before he returned to the book he'd already opened. The laptop seemed to come alive with activity and information and Jack scanned it hungrily. He'd always liked Olivia, and he was hopeful he could help to find a solution. He went into high F.B.I. research mode, took off his gun and set it on the table, then began the tedious chore of separating the wheat from the chaff. He was all business inside two minutes, and Baby kissed him lightly on the top of the head before returning to a slightly more broody René.

Just before dawn things were looking no better. Jack had found a dozen leads that eventually petered out to nerd boys living in their parents' basements, making up vampire lore for their role playing games. He wasn't amused and e-mailed a few of the sites to Special Agent Harrison in DC for her to follow up. A few of them had obviously hacked some military sites to garner fuel for their games, and they'd be getting a visit from their friendly neighborhood F.B.I. in the next few days.

Spike stood and stretched. He had a few passages marked in 4 or 5 books, things that might interconnect and be helpful, but he couldn't put it together just yet. Fatigue had set in and he felt that in everyone.

"Let's break for some shut-eye. Jack, you're welcome to stay over if you don't have to go into work."

Jack nodded appreciatively and shut down the laptop, carefully bookmarking the last site he'd found. The others left their books open where they were. The staff would know not to touch. They each hugged, kissed, or otherwise touched one another before going upstairs to bed.

They all slept in, the staff knowing better than to awaken anyone prematurely. Spike came downstairs around 10 p.m. He hadn't slept well and was still trying to piece together a solution. As he headed for the kitchen for coffee, he noticed Jean asleep in the leather chair of his study. Either he had gotten up during the day and come down to continue working or no one had noticed he never left. From the stack of abandoned books on the floor next to him, he had been at it all day. Spike approached his eldest son with affection, kissing the top of his head and trying to rouse him a little. Jean woke up immediately, a little disoriented at first and then obviously disappointed that he had fallen asleep at all.

"Fils, go upstairs and sleep for a few hours. You'll be no good to her like this." He placed his hand affectionately on Jean's shoulder. "I'll wake you before midnight. Go on." He tossed his head toward the stairway.

Jean leaped from the chair and, seeing how late it was, headed for the front door at a dead run. "Sorry, Papa, I want to be there before she wakes up. I have to be there. I'll call." He was out the door before Spike could object.

When he arrived at Olivia's apartment, his blood ran cold. The door was open, her bedroom door was ripped off its hinges, and Easy was lying on the floor unconscious. Jean cursed under his breath and called home. "She's gone." He hung up and saw to the unconscious man on the floor. He'd been attacked but at least he wasn't dusted or too badly injured. He settled the priest onto the sofa. "Maman will be here in a few minutes, you tell her what happened. I'm going to look for her." He stopped for a moment. "Was she alone?" Easy nodded, and Jean was gone.

Down in the French Quarter, Sam was just coming out of his meeting. It had gone well, he thought, much faster and more efficiently than he had expected. Those in charge of the reluctant families in Mobile would be replaced according to tradition, which meant most likely beheading, possibly simple dusting. The anger in one of the patriarchs was substantial. He alone seemed to grasp just how big of an insult his wayward son was perpetuating on both the Master of Mobile and the Master of New Orleans. Sam cringed at the thought of what that son was facing.

As he rounded the corner near one of his favorite old spots, he saw and heard movement in the alley. He froze, staying in the shadows hopefully unseen, and watched. Before he even got a good look at her he knew it was Liv. He would know her scent a half-mile away. He could tell he was too late for whoever was in there with her; there was no hint of a heartbeat in that alleyway. He leaned against the brick wall and waited for her to come out, then followed her as she began to stroll the Quarter again.

When she stopped and talked to a nice-looking, and obviously naďve, young man, he approached her from behind, putting his hands on her shoulders seemingly affectionately, but firmly enough that she couldn't have shaken him off easily.

"Liv?" He pitched his voice high and friendly, as if he'd just run into her unexpectedly. "What are you doing out here alone, honey? You know better than to walk the Quarter alone at night."

"Beat it, Grandpa." Okay, so maybe he wasn't as naďve as he looked; he certainly had a smart mouth on him. Perhaps he should let Liv have a go at him and save the world from another snot-nosed collegiate. He sighed. "No, I don't think so." And he decked the boy with one punch.

Olivia turned flashing yellow eyes on him. "What are you doing? We were just talking!"

"Yes, sweetheart, I saw the last guy you were talking to back there in the alley. How about we head back to your place and chat about it?" It wasn't really a question and he had already grabbed her arm tightly and was guiding her away from the crowd.

Liv opened her eyes in a wide, innocent expression and began screaming. "Let go of me! Help! Help! Leave me alone, you fucking asshole, I said no!" Bouncers seemed to come from everywhere and had Sam on the ground and all but immobilized before he realized what she'd done. By the time he fought them off, she was gone.

"Merde." He opened his cell phone and called her flat. "Jean? Yeah, I know." He rubbed his jaw and gave a grunt toward the large fellow walking away none too apologetically. "Because I just saw her," he said into the phone impatiently. "Yeah, she's on Bourbon St., just the other side of Toulouse, if you get a move on you can cut her off before she finds another snack." He listened, fatigue showing in his voice. "Yeah, I said another. She's in trouble, Jean. We gotta get her off the streets." He flipped the phone closed and tried to get more of an idea which way she headed. He picked up her scent quickly. She'd just fed: it was like leaving a trail of breadcrumbs to find her.

Less than five minutes passed before Jean cornered her.

"Jean?" She stopped suddenly, her voice and posture suddenly turning to that of a frightened girl. "Jean?" She tried to move towards him and her legs began to buckle. She staggered a few more steps before she crumpled to the ground, her hands still reaching out to him.

"Careful there, partner." Sam was running up the street from the opposite direction. "She pulled that on me and darn near got me killed."

Jean looked at him questioningly as they both moved toward her. He could feel her: she was shattered and broken and anything but threatening. Jean fell to the ground next to her, gathering her in his arms as she began to sob.

Sam stood guard over them, discouraging any onlookers who might be tempted to hang around, all the while keeping a distrusting eye on Olivia. He didn't think she would turn on them again, but he wasn't taking any changes.

After a few minutes, Jean lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the flat, Sam taking his back in case there was unexpected trouble. By the time they arrived, Baby and Spike were already there, Easy had been cared for, and there was nothing more to do but address the tearful woman in Jean's arms.

Olivia's face was buried in Jean's chest, her shoulders shaking. She would not look at anyone. She wouldn't even lift her face from his tear-stained shirt.

Jean shook his head at his parents and took her into the bedroom, closing the already-repaired door behind him. The others stayed outside.

He settled them both onto the bed and held her in his arms while she cried and pleaded with him to help her. She didn't understand what was going on, she didn't know why she was in the middle of Bourbon Street, and she didn't understand why she was covered in blood. Jean stroked her hair and cooed to her softly, trying to calm her down so that he could explain what he thought was happening to her. He wasn't really even sure himself, but he knew that if he wanted her to survive he couldn't show fear or express concern that she was doing anything wrong.

He rocked her quietly until she relaxed in his arms. Once she was quiet, he realized her body was warm. He cringed a little. She'd fed again. The more she fed like this, the stronger the demon would become. Just the thought of it made his heart break open for her and he fought to hold back tears of his own. Unexpectedly, her pitiful voice vibrated against his chest. "Why is this happening to me?"

"I don't know, cher, we're trying to find out and fix it." He kissed her hair. "I know you're scared, but it'll be all right. I promise. It'll be all right."

"I don't want to kill anyone, Jean, don't let me kill anyone, please …please …" She fell asleep in his arms, still clinging to him, still terrified of what was going on around her. He sat holding her for what seemed hours, rocking her, and talking to her softly while she slept, saying all the things she loved to hear, telling her the story of how they met and about their many adventures and trips together. It was for himself as much as for her. She had been a precious part of his life, and he did not want to give up on her yet.

He heard a soft knock at the door and Baby walked in with the others behind her. She touched his arm gently. "We need to talk, m'Jean." He nodded and gestured as best he could that they should all come in and sit down. Spike sat next to him on the bed; Baby stood behind him. René, Sam and Easy sat around the room. Everyone's eyes were on Jean and the sleeping woman he held so tightly to him.

He spoke quietly. "She's sleeping now, and even if she wakes up, she needs to know what's happening." He stopped and looked down at her, a mixture of adoration and sorrow on his face. "What are we going to do, Papa?"

Spike seemed lost in thought for a very long time, the others beginning to shift uncomfortably in their seats. "I think we agree that Liv is a special case here. Ordinarily by this point we'd have … well … disposed of a vamp which appeared to go bad, not taking any further risk." He paused, then began again. "But Olivia has some extenuating circumstances; she was turned against her will, she lost the bond with her sire at less than one month of age, and as a human she was not only of great service to the family, she was a bound companion to Jean and marked lover to René." He took a deep breath. "These things cannot be ignored. Add to that how she expressed that she does not want to kill and we can see that she is someone worthy of taking extraordinary actions to save."

Everyone seemed to agree, though no one had additional comments to make. Jean stroked Olivia's hair. Love and pride welled up inside of him. She was indeed an extraordinary person, in life and in death.

Spike suddenly became all business. "However, we cannot have her running loose in the French Quarter snacking on tourists, whether or not she is aware of what she's doing. Drastic measures are in order, I think." He turned to his eldest son. "Jean?"

"Yes, Papa."

"She seems to be more stable when you are around, so I want you to remain with her 24/7 until we figure out how to give her more strength to fight the demon."

Jean nodded and continued to stroke her hair as she slept. Staying with her would be no problem for him. No problem at all. In fact, he rather looked forward to it, realizing that as she had become stronger back in Mobile, he had seen less and less of her. He didn't want her to be dependent on him, but he had missed her when they were both so busy back home.

"Sam?" Spike turned to his grandchilde. "Are the Mobile families taken care of?" Sam nodded. "Good. She seems to trust you and Easy and is comfortable with both of you. However, since we've seen her demon is clever, manipulative, and strong enough to render a vamp unconscious, I think it's a good idea if one or both of you were here as well as Jean." Spike smiled a little. "I doubt any demon, no matter how clever, could get the better of the three of you." His voice held a note of pride behind it.

"Baby? René?" Baby moved closer, René stood and moved toward the other side of the bed, reaching a tender hand toward his sleeping lover. "We have a lot of work to do. First on the docket is contacting Wesley and Giles. We should have called them last night, but I thought we could handle this without their expertise. I was wrong." A quiet sigh escaped his lips. He had overestimated their abilities and underestimated the strength of a determined demon. It had cost a man his life. "Call Wesley on his cell, I believe he's in Dallas right now with Dru and possibly Faith. He won't have his references with him, but he'll know where to go, what to look for, and who to ask. Giles still keeps most of his reference books at his home in Sunnydale. Most of his are Watchers' Journals and the like and most likely won't have information regarding modifying natural vampire behavior, but it's worth asking." He glanced at Olivia, still sleeping peacefully in Jean's arms. "She's worth asking."

Looking at everyone again. "Sam, come back to the house with us and get some, uh, chains and window bars. It may be necessary to restrain her from time to time." Looking at her now it was almost impossible to believe that she had even the tiniest streak of violence in her. But they all knew she had that potential, and some of them had already seen it. "Let's get moving."

Sam and Easy headed for the doorway to attend to their tasks. Baby kissed Jean on the forehead and left, René kissed him tenderly on the lips and they stood by his side, leaving only him, Jean, Olivia, and Spike in the room.

"Son," Spike put his hand on Jean's shoulder. "If we can't find anything, and she can't control this, you know what will have to be done."

They both nodded stiffly. They knew. They knew too well. They had seen it done a few times, and each time it was painful because there was always a residual bit of the fledgling left that didn't understand.

"If that comes," Spike was speaking as gently as he could, "I'll take care of her. I don't expect either of you to do it."

René started to object, but stopped, Jean beating him to it.

Jean looked up at his father, a little stricken. "Papa, if it comes to that, I will do it." Jean looked down at her again, blinking back a threatening stream of tears. "She may be your grandchilde and René's childe, but she is mine. My lover, my companion. My mark was on her first. I am responsible, and if it must be done, I want to be with her at the end." He held her just a little bit tighter.

Spike almost glowed with pride at his son. He looked at René for his approval, which he immediately got with a nod of his head and a flash of teal eyes. René wouldn't object.

"All right then. We have work to do." Spike kissed both of his sons, then grasped René's hand and took him from the room, leaving Olivia and Jean alone again.

Jean sank down into the bed a bit more, shifting and adjusting until they were both lying down and their limbs were intermingled. He had always loved sleeping with her. There was a peace and security she brought with her that had always soothed him. Perhaps it was because he knew that she was the one person in the world who loved only him. He was first in her life, he had always been, even when it was unspoken. Part of him regretted that he was never able to give her as much of himself as she deserved, but another part of him basked in the comfort and peace she brought him, without demands, without pain. She was simply his. Wrapped in each other, Jean drifted off to sleep as well, grateful to still have her, grateful to still be with her, and hoping against hope that a solution could be found to keep her with him.

*************************

Jean woke at midday, an unusual time for him to be awake but he had slept very little the day before and the night had been more than a little stressful. He'd fallen asleep in Liv's arms about 2 a.m., also not his usual time to sleep. He was alone in the bed, so he quickly got up and went into the living room to find the place absolutely abuzz with activity. He rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"What is everyone doing up at this hour?" he mumbled.

Liv met him immediately, kissed him soundly and handed him her cup of coffee. Everyone was there, in the middle of the day, extremely odd by his book. Sam and Easy were poring over religious texts, Baby was on the phone, Spike was rounding up some food in the kitchen, and René was curled up asleep in an overstuffed chair. The shutters were tightly closed, as they had been since the day Liv had come back to New Orleans. No trace of sunlight showed through.

Jean put his arm around her. She was exceedingly chipper for this time of the day and considering it was her life they were trying to save in their research. Maybe that was why she was so positive. All of these people were working for her, to help her. Even if nothing could be done, it had to make her heart glad to have such support and love.

He squeezed her to him, kissing her cheek lightly. "Any news?" he all but whispered to her.

"Nothing definite yet. But Wesley said he knew a few contacts that might be able to help within a coven in L.A. Giles is on the phone with Baby right now."

Still clinging to one another, they moved over to Baby and waited. She hung up almost immediately. "Zero. We scored a big, fat zero there." She sighed heavily. "You'd think someone would know what we could do! How many hundreds of years did the Council, well, watch? Their records should show something!" She was visibly frustrated and joined Spike in the kitchen to give herself something to do.

Easy and Sam moved into the bedroom and closed the door, the sound of drills and hammers giving away what they were doing. Once her bedroom was secure, it would be harder for her to get out at night, especially with an entourage of vampires in her living room like they were now.

Jean moved to the books Easy and Sam had been looking at and sat down. Liv was too restless for that. She moved quietly to the piano and opened it for the first time in almost a year. Her fingers moved silently over the keys, their familiarity comforting to her. It still amazed her that she could remember how to play. She had thought that skill might have stayed attached to her soul, but she had gotten to keep it, and though she seldom played, it was still a comfort to her.

Spike came up behind her, watching her delicate fingers noiselessly brush against the white and ebony. "Go ahead and play, sweetheart. Music soothes the savage … " He stopped himself, not wanting to finish the old saying. She turned her face toward him and smiled. Perhaps it would have a calming affect on the desperate undertones of the busy room.

January 16, 2020
5:12 p.m.

"I'm not sure what we're going to do just yet, Papa. She's still sleeping; in fact I hope she sleeps for the next two days. Dealing with what happened is not going to be easy." Jean held the phone in his shaking hand. He hadn't wanted to tell Spike what had happened to the little girl. He hadn't really wanted to admit it to himself. But Easy had convinced him that it had to be done and that to deny it was to lie not only to himself, but to his father. Such a lie could cause an irreconcilable rift between them. And it would eventually destroy Olivia. Jean had reluctantly agreed, and had promised to call Spike when they got up.

He and Liv had both had a very restless sleep, both tossing and turning and hardly touching one another at all, which in itself was unusual. When he finally got up, he made sure Liv was sleeping soundly and then made the call.

"I understand. I know. I know something must be done. Wesley found nothing?" He nodded sadly, even though his father couldn't see it. "I understand. I was just hopeful." He visibly saddened, his body almost slumping under the heavy weight of what had happened and what might still happen. Decisions would have to be made, decisions that he couldn't bear to think about. "Papa? There is another way." He hesitated, but decided to at least voice this option. "We could, I mean, Wesley could … restore her soul."

It hung in the air for a few moments, then the telephone exploded into indecipherable yelling both in English and in French. Jean had to hold the phone away from his ear, all the while trying to interrupt. "René! René, stop yelling, cher. I know. I know! But …. I know, I don't want to take that away from her either but … but René … I know, there's no guarantee she would be … I know, but …" He sighed heavily. "René … please … let me talk to Papa again." Another minute or two of yelling, then the phone was obviously handed back to Spike. Jean was shaken. He hadn't expected René to react like that, though in his heart he felt the same way. Still he had wanted to offer all options, even those he knew she would not like.

"Thank you, Papa. I'll stay close and do what I can. Tell René… never mind." He sighed. "I love you, too." He hung up, his hands still trembling slightly.

He turned to Easy. "Neither one of us are to leave her, for any reason. If they need one of us, they'll send someone else, but there must always be two of us here with her."

"Wesley found nothing?" Easy already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it.

Jean slowly shook his head. "Apparently Spike's lineage is the only one to ever accomplish this kind of total behavioral change. There isn't enough research or information for there to be any documentation. Not even in the ancient texts." He turned away, biting his lower lip. "I had hoped maybe there was some legend we had missed, something that could help."

"But there isn't." Olivia stood in the doorway of her bedroom. Her voice was almost matter-of-fact and business-like, laced with an edge of pain and regret. "I know, m'Jean. There is no magic to help us."

He went to her and folded her in his arms, kissing her softly on the neck. "We'll find some way, my love. I know we will."

She welcomed his lips on hers and lived happily there for some time before she pulled away and placed her hands on his chest, pushing back from him slightly. "I know we can do this. But … but for now, I need to talk to Easy for a few minutes." She paused. "Um, alone, if that's okay." She glanced over her shoulder into the bedroom. "You can stay just by the door if you wish. I feel strong right now. We should be okay."

She was calm, Jean could feel it through their link, and she was confident. That was good. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and whispered to her, "I'm going to shower. Come join me when you're through if you wish." He kissed her quickly, but seductively, then glanced over at Easy and slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Olivia let out a long sigh. That shower had sounded inviting. However, she had been awake in the bedroom, even though Jean thought she was asleep. She had heard his side of his conversation with Spike and knew that there was nothing anyone could do at this point. She couldn't live like this anymore. The guilt alone was stifling. The fear that she might kill again made her physically sick.

She went to Easy, taking one of his hands in hers. "Father Sinclair, I have a favor to ask of you."

Easy's eyes went wide for a moment. She never called him Father Sinclair. She guided them both to the sofa and began her request. He was both stunned and honored and agreed immediately to do what she had asked.

"And when that is done," she qualified, "I'm going to ask you to do something against Spike's wishes." She waited for him to object, but was pleased that he waited to hear her out first. "When we are through, I would like to spend the rest of the night alone with Jean. I know Spike has said there should always be two of you, but you know that I am strong with Jean here and I promise not to be more than 8 inches away from him all night." She all but blushed at the comment realizing what she was saying.

Easy turned his head away so that she wouldn't see him smile, then recovered and turned back to her, nodding. He understood exactly what she was asking for and he would not deny her that.

"I need to get some things from my bag and we can begin." He stopped for a moment, glancing at the bedroom door, a sly smile on his lips. "Unless you'd like to join Jean first."

Olivia's face broke into a broad grin. It was tempting, it was too tempting. She excused herself and slipped into the bedroom.

Jean was standing under the water unmoving, staring into space. The water had warmed him but he couldn't feel, he couldn't think. He was just numb. He didn't want to lose her. As much as becoming a vampire had been against Liv's wishes, he had been so happy with her, even in their short time. So much had happened to him lately, losing her, losing René, then getting them both back. Also, a part of him inside knew that if Olivia had to be destroyed it would hurt not just him, but René as well. René, her lover, had accepted that things were not going well, but René, her sire, was still feeling a great deal of guilt at what he had done, in spite of her forgiveness.

The door to the shower opened and his morose musings seemed to swirl down the drain. Here she was, this exquisitely beautiful creature, nude and opening her arms to him. He crushed himself to her and covered her mouth with his own. The warmth of the water and the clean scent of soap engulfed them both in the pleasures of touching and washing one another's bodies, shampooing hair, and making love. When they were through, they dried one another and dressed.

Once again, Olivia asked Jean to remain in the bedroom until she called him, saying that she and Easy had something to do, a kind of surprise for him. He sensed no deception or danger in her and kissed her soundly before sitting on the bed to wait for her.

She entered the living room freshly scrubbed and dressed. Easy was a little taken aback; she appeared almost virginal, like a bride coming to see the priest before her marriage. Her hair was still damp and left droplets of water on her back and occasionally on the floor. She didn't care.

He was waiting for her, seated in an overstuffed chair, a purple stole in his hands.

She approached him, looking down and smiling, then kneeled before him, her eyes wide and childlike. She squashed the desire to kiss his Bishop's ring, as she normally would have under these circumstances, then asked, "Father, do you have your beads with you?"

Easy still kept them with him at all times. Because of the unredeemed within the family, he kept them safely tucked away so as not to endanger them or make them uncomfortable. Still, they were an important part of him, so he rarely was without them. He nodded at her.

"May I see them?"

Against his better judgment, he pulled them from his pocket and held them up for her. She blanched at the sight of them and the cross they bore, as he expected. Then he saw an extraordinary example of courage when she forced herself to look at them again and reached out to touch the cross that dangled before her. Her fingers were burned instantly and she withdrew, clutching her wounded hand to her chest and nodding to him. He put them away, understanding now what she was doing and why she had wanted to see them.

Once again she turned her eyes up to him. She was ready. He placed the purple stole around his neck and said a quiet prayer to himself.

When he was ready, she bowed her head before him and murmured quietly, "Bless me, Father. I have sinned. It has been …" She stopped and looked back up at him, surprised. "This is my first confession." In truth it was. The soul who had been Olivia was no longer here. This was a demon … asking for confession and forgiveness. And it was definitely a first … for both of them.

They continued together, her kneeling and confessing to him all the things she had done, but most especially the three deaths she had caused. Tears fell from her eyes as she spoke of them individually, naming them, trying to recall the details of what had happened as best she could, and ultimately asking for forgiveness. When it came time for penance, Easy stopped, unsure what acts of contrition she could perform.

She caught his doubt and touched his hand. "Father, my penance will be a sacrifice."

Easy put his other hand on top of hers, his eyebrows knitting together in the unspoken question.

She signed and raised her chin slightly, almost proudly, and he realized at that moment what she intended to do. Tears welled in his eyes as he finished the sacrament, "God, the Father of mercies, through the death and the resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. My daughter, your sins are forgiven."

They both sighed as what felt like a great yoke of burden was lifted from them. As they both stood, she searched his face. "Father? Could I see your beads again, please?"

He removed them and held them out to her. She took them into her hands and closed her fingers around them, touching each bead individually and then finally touching the cross with her unburned fingers. There was no pain, no burning. She looked at him again, joy in her eyes and on her face. It was exactly as she had hoped. As she returned the beads to him, he held her hands tightly in his as she bowed her head and kissed his ring. Touched by her devotion and the miraculous healing power he had just seen, he asked her to wait for a moment.

He went to his bag and returned with something in his hands. Opening them to her, he held a silver cross on a silver chain. He'd had it in his bag for what seemed like years and never really knew why he had put it in there, but he always had it with him. She smiled at him with love and gratitude as he turned her around and fastened it around her neck, the silver cross lying softly on her skin, again, not burning her.

She turned around to him, throwing her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek as she whispered, "Thank you. Thank you for this wonderful gift."

After a few quiet moments together she told him she wanted to get Jean now and went to the bedroom while he retrieved something else from his bag.

She returned dragging Jean by the hand and full of enthusiasm. Jean himself looked completely baffled until he saw the instruments before Easy on the coffee table and heard the familiar and comforting words of Holy Communion. As Olivia pulled eagerly pulled him down to his knees, he got the first recognized glimpse of the cross she wore. As the priest continued his ritual, Jean could not help but reach out and trace the silver on her neck. It was then he realized what they had been doing and what they were doing now. He and Olivia had attended mass regularly whenever they were together, but since she had been turned, it had not been possible. He had missed the unity they shared in their faith, he had missed her presence with him when he prayed at church, and until this moment he had not realized how much he had missed sharing this meal of the body and blood of Christ with her.

They continued in practiced reverence, reciting their words of faith, accepting the gift of life through sacrifice, and partaking of that which only the forgiven could enjoy. At the final blessing, their hands were joined tightly together, as they had been a thousand times before.

As they rose at the completion of the sacrament, Easy packed up quickly before excusing himself. "I'm sorry, Jean, I need to go, uh, back to the house and discuss some things with Spike and Baby. You two will be fine?" It wasn't really a question, but he felt he should give Jean some say in his leaving.

Jean had been so completely overwhelmed with what Olivia had done that he hardly noticed Easy's question at all, finally just nodding his agreement while holding both of Olivia's hands in his and drinking in the happiness and peace he saw in her eyes.

Easy leaned over to her, whispered in her ear and kissed her lightly on the cheek, keeping the tears in his eyes hidden from Jean as he slipped out the door. Once outside, he left another prayer at her door and felt the tug of his heart as he realized he would never see her again.

****************************

I'll be your dream
I'll be your wish I'll be your fantasy
I'll be your hope I'll be your love
Be everything that you need
I'll love you more with every breathe
Truly, madly, deeply do
I will be strong I will be faithful 'cause I'm counting on


A new begining
A reason for living
A deeper meaning


I want to stand with you on a mountain
I want to bathe with you in the sea
I want to lay like this forever
Until the sky falls down on me

The rest of the evening Olivia and Jean spent casually in her flat, watching a favorite movie, having popcorn, listening to music, and curled up together on the sofa just talking. Neither one spoke of the absolution nor anything about the religious sacraments they had participated in. It was as it had always been with them, something special that they did together that meant a lot to them both … and they never spoke of it.

As it neared midnight, they headed to the bedroom, hardly able to keep their hands off of one another. The first time was quick and urgent and left them both breathless and almost giggling on the bed together, their clothes scattered about the room and safely tucked beneath the covers.

After they had napped for awhile, Liv snuggled further into Jean's embrace, "Jean?"

"Yes, my love." Jean couldn't remember the last time they had felt this good together.

"Can I ask a favor of you tonight?"

"Anything."

"For just tonight, can it be just us? Just you and me? And I'm the only one in your heart and you're the only one in mine, and there is no one else crowded into our bed physically or emotionally?" Her voice was soft and almost pleading.

This was important to her, though he wasn't sure he could even begin to understand why. She had always known the score between them. She had always known that the family, and René in particular, would always come first in his heart. She had never complained about it, in fact, they had never really even discussed it. It was an accepted part of their relationship, so something about her request seemed a little off.

"If that is what you wish, cher, okay. I can do that. I can block everyone out and we can be just us." He turned her face up toward his. "Can I ask why?"

She kissed him softly, her hand resting on his chest. "I'll explain later. It's just for tonight, I promise I won't ever ask it of you again."

He returned her kiss and agreed, taking a moment to mentally dismiss the chorus of voices and activities in his head that his other loved ones were busy with. He made sure they knew nothing was wrong that he was just going to disconnect for a while for privacy with Liv. He felt some resistance from Spike, but he reassured them all that it would be fine, then turned to her and smiled. "I'm all yours."

They wrapped in each other and talked about everything and nothing before sinking into the slow, mature lovemaking that they did so well together. Long, tender kisses and slow, almost torturous, caresses that sent them both squirming in eager anticipation of the others' touch and love. They pleasured one another with their mouths, their bodies, their hearts, their hands and any other way that they could convey their love back and forth. They were uninhibited and held nothing back, then rested in each other as they drifted to sleep. It was perfect.

Later, after they had slept for a while, Jean slipped into the bathroom to retrieve some oils and other treats. Olivia moved to the window and opened it wide. The moon and stars shined brightly through the bars casting a silvery sheen to the bed. She couldn't help but smile at it. Clouds of heaven it seemed to her, and with Jean at her side, touching and loving her that was exactly what it was.

As Jean returned, she took the things from him and set them down on the bed, then reached out and took his hands in hers. He stood before her curious what she was doing but remaining still as she seemed to want him to do.

Olivia sat on the bed, her hands holding tightly to Jean's. He had never seen such a look of peace on her face, at least not since she had been turned. She had such a glow about her, her skin gleaming like alabaster, almost reflecting the moon itself. He wasn't sure she had ever looked more beautiful than she did right now, with her mussed hair, no make up, his scene on her, and the shimmer of the moon about her.

She had been gazing up at him, squeezing his hands tighter and tighter until she finally spoke. Her voice was hesitant, even nervous, but it still held that musical quality that had made his heart melt for 20 years.

"Jean, my love," she began slowly. "We have not talked about things. Important things. And we must. We can't pretend that it's not happening any longer."

"But, cher, we can …… " she stopped his interruption with gentle fingertips to his lips. She pulled him down onto the bed next to her and placed her lips where her fingertips had been.

"Please, let me finish. If you don't, I'm afraid I won't say what I need to say, and it's important, my love. It's important."

Jean felt panic welling up inside him. He didn't like where this was going. Something was just not right and she was too calm about the horrible events of the last few days. He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them softly, then nodded for her to go on.

She smiled shyly then continued. "I can't control the bloodlust anymore." He started to interrupt her again, but stopped. She was right. It was becoming more difficult for her. He had tried not to see it, but he knew, and inside he screamed in agony for her. "I can't control it and it's getting worse. You know that, right?"

Jean nodded, tears welling up in his eyes.

She smiled a little. "I am many things, my love, but I am not slow. I know that I am only still alive now because I am bound to you and René. If I had been any other childe, I would be dust by now."

Again he nodded, his throat beginning to tighten and choke him.

She touched his cheek softly with her hand, caressing him, in some vain attempt to take the sting out of what she was about to say. "You know that I am forgiven, we both know it. You see this around my neck," she fingered the cross glimmering on her skin, "and you know I am redeemed now." She smiled again, her eyes closing in a solemn, prayerful moment. "As do I."

"But we also know it will not last long. I can only stay like this for so long, and then only in your presence, and sometimes René's."

She crawled up onto her knees and faced him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him deeply, suddenly realizing that nothing was going to make this easy. She guessed it must be part of her penance. It just couldn't be as easy as dying again.

"I don't know what will happen to me. I know that the Olivia who used to live here is in heaven. Too many of her memories stayed with me, teaching me to be like her, even though I am not all of her. But I don't know what would happen to me, this demon me, if I stay here. I do know that she didn't want this, that she feared being a vampire, and that somehow I might cheat her from her happy eternity. I … I don't think that will happen, but still I don't know what will happen to me. Or I don't know what will happen if I stay and if I continue to kill and feed on … on innocent people." She couldn't seem to stop the explanation. I just poured from her unbidden and wouldn't stop. Part of her hoped he would see what she was asking, what she needed to do. From the tense expression on his face and the way the muscles on his arms were flexing, she felt he was indeed beginning to understand.

"As much as I love you, I cannot stay. You know that, right? I will kill again and Spike will be forced to cover for me again and then he will have to deal with me and the legal authorities and who knows how many other people, perhaps even families. I remember the little girl from last night. I remember how beautiful she was and how sweet she tasted, and there is that part of me that will take control again and go in search of some other lovely little girl or boy." She stopped, her voice choking slightly. "I can't do it, Jean. I cannot be allowed to do it."

Jean was trembling now. His mind did not want to admit what she was saying, but his heart knew it all to be true and it seemed to break wide open in both love and agony at what she was going through and what she might yet have to go through.

She took his face in her hands again and kissed him, more gently this time, but more urgently, then she wrapped her arms around him and pressed their bodies together, resting her head on his shoulder and whispering to him softly. She wasn't sure she could face him right now. "My love … when tonight is over, and the sun begins to shine through the windows," she pulled back from him and reached into the drawer of the night table, then turned back to him, "Please … my love … please take my life." She placed the stake in his hand and closed his fingers around it.

Jean immediately pushed away from her, jumping to his feet and hurling the wooden stake across the room. "No! Olivia! What are you talking about? NO! I won't do it, you don't have to … no! We'll find another way, I know there must be something, Wesley or Giles or someone will find someway to make this work and you'll be fine. I know you will, just, just, please … don't … don't ask me to do this." His voice was shaking as must as his body, and all he could see of her were deep brown eyes filled with tears of pain and regret.

Her voice became soft and broken. "If you won't do it, then who will? You know it has to be done. Would you rather someone else did it? Spike? Or Sam? Or some impersonal council of executioners?" She looked up at him, silent tears leaving shimmering rivers on her face. "Or do I have to go for a sunrise walk alone?"

She was playing dirty now, but she had to, he had to see that she had to do this. She knew he wouldn't want any of those things for her; he didn't want to let her go at all, but he particularly didn't want her to burst into flames at sunrise … alone in her last moments, alone without him.

Jean crumbled to the floor. "There has to be something we can do." He sounded so defeated. In just a few short moments he realized everything she had said was true. She couldn't stop it, things were getting worse, and she was right, she would end up in the hands of someone who didn't love her like he did.

Liv joined him on the floor, wrapping her arms around him, trying to hold back her own sobs. "It's not what I want, m'Jean, it's not what either of us wants. But there is little choice now. If the demon inside of me is capable of killing an innocent child, then there is no one that is safe. Not you, not René. No one." She choked back tears and tried to sound more rational instead of broken. "I … I've been absolved, and for now, I am redeemed, safe from the fires of hell which I have no desire to even visit." She tried to make that sound lighter than it actually came out. She failed. "Easy … Easy understands. When it was time for penance, he was at a loss. How do you do penance for murdering three innocent people?" She sat back on her heels and tried to make him look at her. "I told him … I told him my penance would be a sacrifice. I didn't have to tell him what that sacrifice would be. He knew." She placed her hands over his, pouring as much love as she could through their link and through their joined hands. "And so do you."

The phone rang, jolting them both. After three rings Jean finally answered it, gathering himself together as best he could.

"René? No, everything's fine. Yes. I know. I … I wanted it to be just Liv and me tonight so that's why you don't feel me, but I'm fine, really. Yes. Yes, so is she. We've been talking about things and … how to fix them. It's okay, m'frere." He looked at Liv, tears running down both of their faces. "I promise, everything is going to be okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Besides, " he tried to sound a little annoyed, he wasn't sure how successful he was, "besides, you're interrupting some very important alone time here, brother … get the hint?" He forced a laugh at what René had said on the phone. Then bid him goodnight and hung up.

Jean stared at the phone after he replaced it then picked up the stake from across the room and brought it back to her, placing it gently in her hands. "He's going to be very angry in the morning when he realizes." He looked back up at her suddenly not sure if he was talking about René or himself. "He will feel it, Liv. He'll know that you've …"

She pressed her fingers to his lips again as she slid the stake beneath her pillow. "Shhhh, I know, my love. But by then he won't be able to do anything about it and … and I will be at peace." She tried to sound brave and as if this was what she wanted. She hoped it would make it easier on Jean. Somehow she thought none of this would be easy on anyone, except perhaps her.

She fingered the cross again, looking down at it this time. "You know how important this is to me. I gave my confession, I was forgiven, and we both know that for me to keep that forgiveness that … this has to happen, my love. If you cannot do it, then I will find another way. I just … I just wanted my last moments to be with you … in your arms, and for your last memories of me to be of love," she kissed him, "and tenderness," she kissed him again, "and no regrets." She kissed him again, this time with the fire she always held for him, moving him, transforming their trembling bodies into instruments of love again.

When their lips reluctantly parted, he looked at her, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "You know, I could just tie you up and lock you in the bathroom until we figure something out."

She almost laughed, then kissed him again. "I know, my love, but you won't." She looked at him questioningly. "Will you?"

"Well I don't know," he growled playfully and started crawling toward her, as she scampered up on to the bed and tried to back away. "Perhaps instead of that, I'll just have to chain you up here, and here," he pointed to the bedposts, then take my pleasure with you as long and slow as I please," he moved closer and closer, his growl becoming more playful and his body beginning to show signs of arousal instead of shock and sorrow.

"Promise?" She said with a challenging grin. It was a game they had played hundreds of times. They never tired of it, pitting their best wit against each other and waiting to see who gave up first. It was familiar and comforting and a way they could both submerge their sadness instead of argue and dwell on what they both knew would become an eventuality.

Jean did not want to kill her. Far from it, he would much prefer to keep her with him the rest of their lives. But he also saw the logic in what she was asking. She wanted to be released from the danger and guilt of killing innocents. She didn't want to become what her human self feared she would become. And rather than go for a walk in the sun or set herself on fire, she had chosen to ask him to spend this last night with her and help her go quietly into oblivion. He didn't want her to go, but he also knew that he wouldn't win this argument with her. Unless he had a concrete way of assuring her that she would never lose control again, she wouldn't even consider anything else but this way out of it.

It was going to be difficult, the most difficult thing he'd ever done in his life, except perhaps watching her waste away last November. He thought for a moment. No, this was harder. He tried to take comfort in that fact that they were having such a delightful time together and it had been such a perfect night.

With no warning whatsoever, Jean pounced on her, tickling her madly as they both dissolved into fits of giggles and laughter. The call from René had forced him to look at what she wanted. Lying to René had broken the tension and forced Jean to make it all right in his head and accept that this was the only decision she would accept. It was painful but their last hours would be joyous and loving and perfect, just as so much of their time together had been.

Her giggles died down as Jean's lips sought hers and devoured them. His hands were suddenly everywhere, touching and exploring every curve, every limb, her fingers, her ears, her lips. She opened herself to him, welcoming his touch, drawing his tongue into her mouth to dance with her own, and wrapping herself around him, holding his body to hers. He kissed and sucked every part of her he could reach, and when she begged him to, he entered her with the same explosion of passion that had always been between them. It wasn't enough. They both wanted more, so they both took more and gave more, bringing each other to orgasm over and over again through the night. Just when they would settle, exhausted, into each other's arms, one of them would start anew, teasing and daring the other to meet their passion's demands.

When they were so spent that they could hardly move, Olivia turned toward the open window, the sky still a midnight blue, though not quite as dark as it had been. Jean spooned up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly against him, nuzzling his face into her hair and whispering softly to her. Again they slept for a little while until the approaching sun woke them both. It was time.

As the horizon began to turn shades of deep purple and crimson laced with gold, Olivia turned in his arms and kissed him, giving herself over to him one last time, wrapping her heart, her body, and her love around him in a cushion to protect him from the pain and guilt she knew he would feel.

"It's not your fault, my love," she whispered. "Never think that. And it's not René's fault, either; it's just how things are." She buried her face into his chest, inhaling his scent one last time as she reached beneath the pillow and grasped the stake there. "This is what I want, okay?" He held her tighter. "Okay?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I understand, this is what you want." He looked into her deep brown eyes with his own, tears threatening both of them. "But just so you know, it's not what I want." He kissed her deeply, salty tears mixing on their lips.

"I love you, m'amour," she whispered, barely able to speak. "I will always love you." As discretely as possible she brought the hated piece of wood between them, the sharpened point directed to just the right spot on her breast, the pressure of their bodies holding it steadily in place. She kissed him again, parting her lips to him, each of them tasting the other one last time.

"I love you, Liv, God how I love you." He kissed her face, her cheeks, her throat, as much of her as he could reach.

She rested her forehead against his, a contented sigh escaping her lips. "Let me go then as I wanted to before, my love … let me die in your arms."

Their lips met one last time as they pulled each other into a fierce embrace that forced the stake into Olivia's heart. She shattered into dust, their lips still touching.

***********************

The pounding on the door became the crash of a door being broken down. René's voice filled the flat with desperation as he called out for both of them. He found Jean lying on the bed, curled up as he had been around her … covered in silvery gray ashes. Next to him laid a stake and the silver cross she had been wearing.

René hurried to the windows and closed the shutters against the threatening sun, then he stood, angry and shocked, in front of Jean. "What … where is … what's hap…."

"Go away, René." Jean's eyes were vacant, his voice full of pain. "You couldn't let her die how she wanted to … I did. Now go away and leave me alone." He turned away from René, clutching the silver cross to his heart, and wept.