Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake universe or the Buffy universe. No profit is made from this fic. It's for entertainment purposes only.
“It is said, ma petite
, that in ancient times there was a warrior, called The Slayer, created solely to destroy evil. They took a young girl and combined her essence with a primeval force, an ancient power. Their creation was strong, strong enough to fight the demons and vampires that plagued humanity and once had free reign on this Earth. She was their tool, their weapon. In the end though, they could not control her. Over time she stopped answering to their summons, instead hunting where she chose to. In anger and jealousy, they tried to destroy her and undo the magics they had wrought. They could not destroy her, and instead banished her. But humanity paid for their actions, and those the Slayer had protected fell to evil. It is said that her banishment was not permanent, that in humanity’s greatest hour she would hear her people’s cries and return, reborn to fight for them against evil. Some say she watches us even now, waiting for humanity to call her, to give her the strength to break her exile.”
I looked up at Jean-Claude curiously, watching his face. I had no idea what his had to do with my question. He wasn’t watching me anymore, but looking into the middle distance, as if lost in his story. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him like this.
“Do you believe the stories?”
He looked at me then, and the haunted look in his eyes took my breath away.
“Believe them? I do not know, ma petite
, but sometimes, just before dawn, I have seen her, watching me from the shadows, and I wonder if that means she will return soon.”
My scepticism must have shown on my face, because he reached for me, gently tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.
“I only saw her once before I came to St. Louis, ma petite
, the night before Julianna died.”
I felt my eyes widen at his implication, and I almost didn’t want to ask.
“And since you’ve been in St. Louis?”
“Since I met you, ma petite
, she has appeared to me several times, once after our first meeting, once again when you first took my marks, and again when you took the third mark.”
“Where there other times?”
He nodded. “When Belle Morte came to St. Louis and brought with her the Mother’s guards. She appeared to me each dawn of Belle Morte’s stay.”
Ok, now I was getting a little freaked out. The Mother-of-all-Darkness. I’d seen her restless sleep and knew she was also waiting, although for what I wasn’t sure. I hoped to hell that she didn’t decide to wake up in my lifetime. There were no words to describe her, the immensity of what I’d felt.
All of a sudden, I felt the need to be outside, in sunlight, away from the careful soft lighting in Jean-Claude’s bedroom.
“What does it mean?”
He looked at me fully then, his eyes boring into my soul. I felt through the marks his disquiet. “I do not know ma petite
. But her appearances are growing more frequent with every step we have made in our joining. I fear she has taken an interest in us, and I do not know what it means.”
This was spooking me out. I shook myself and pulled away from him, hugging my arms to my body.
“But you said it was just a story Jean-Claude, how can she be watching you?”
He shrugged that Gallic shrug of his.
“I do not know, ma petite
, but I feel her, and I know it is she. The Slayer stalks me, non
, she stalks us. And I do not think it is a good omen.”
Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t asked what was bothering him.