Chapter 17 - Broken Tears
Should I stay or Should I go
Anya stared blindly as the taxi hurtled through the streets, ignoring the incessant drone of an immigrant driver who seemed to insist on sharing his pathetic life.
Music softly hummed over the radio, and she clenched her fists as a particularly poignant love song filled the car. How fast her world had changed, she had gone from being part of somebody else, something good and now she was back to a barren existence. She had only herself to blame. Oh how the mighty had fallen she thought bitterly. Only 30 minutes ago she had been so happy so joyous. Finally she felt at home, a career, friends that didn’t think she was annoying and Asher. Her Asher, her beloved. Oh what a wicked turn she had dealt him. She rubbed furiously at tears that seemed to spring from nowhere.
He hated her, she hated herself. The look in his eyes when he realized she was not who she portrayed. That look of betrayal, she shook her head, as Anyanka she had turned men into worms for less than she had done.
The airport sign flashed up ahead, soon she would board a plane, fly to some unknown destination, book into an anonymous hotel, and then she could collapse, cry and sob for an eternity. Then she would start to put her life together… again, without Asher.
CIRCUS OF THE DAMNED
Jean Claude looked at his companion with concern, he had returned at last with no explanation, no excuses. Master of the city he may be but one glance at Asher, and he had stilled his questions, they could wait until the council had left. And then and only then he would question Asher as to why it seemed his very soul was screaming, he would offer whatever paltry comfort he could, before eviscerating whoever had put that desolation in his eyes. That is if they all lived through this night.
“Asher see to the finishing of the arrangements here, I will go with Damien to the Club”.
Asher bowed his head in acceptance, his face impassive. Jean Claude hesitated then with a muttered oath, he left in a froth of lace and leather. Time was against them and if he was to safeguard all that was his, he could not afford emotions tonight.
Asher watched Jean Claude go. Tonight would not be easy, the council would not be happy to leave without blood. They wanted to make an example of Jean, to impress all other Masters eager for more that the council was not to be played with. This time Asher was not going to let Jean suffer, if a sacrifice was to be made it would be him, his pound of flesh and blood that would be the coin. He had his taste of happiness, been part of something beautiful and he had been a fool to believe in it again. He was no longer fit for such things, but Jean Claude still had a chance a shaky one perhaps with his fiery Anita, but chance that Asher would give him. It would be his final gift.
Anya tapped her foot impatiently as a nasal haired ogre of a lady slowly checked her in. Why did this feel so wrong. Was she deserting Asher in his hour of need. She had once deserted Xander and years later listening to his nightmares that not even he was aware of as he screamed of snakes and death. She had sworn never to leave him again, never leave the one you love to face then demons alone. It had finally killed her albeit momentarily. But still … could she leave without ever knowing how Asher fared, Would Jean Claude punish Asher for letting her escape and who were this council. He obviously feared them enough to try and protect her. That was the crux, he had protected her first by trying hide her and then by letting her go. Could she callously leave him now.
She straightened up with renewed determination, this was her fault, her mistake. She could feel an Scooby Epiphany come. She would return… help Asher with the council dudes. Return the money to Jean Claude… well what was left of it, appeal to his business acumen that she would bring in twice the money she had cost him over a year, at half pay. And then and only then would she ask for Asher's forgiveness. After all if Jean Claude accepted her offer she had a year to woo and seduce him.
Smiling brightly at the sour faced booking agent. “I am not leaving, I am returning to my lover for orgasmic sex”.
The woman gaped at her mouth open, as Anya dashed away to find a taxi.