Sociopaths and Serial Killers

BY: Montana

Disclaimer: I do not own Jean-Claude, Richard, Anita, Edward, or anything else that belongs to LKH.

Author Note: This is set after Obsidian Butterfly.

“Anita.” A hand gently shook my shoulder, waking me up. I sat up in the seat.

“I’m awake,” I said with a yawn. I saw we had pulled up to Edward’s house.

“Good. You can help me carry all these bags into the house,” Edward said, only half jokingly.

I nodded, sliding out of the hummer with a yawn. I reached into the backseat, grabbing most of the bags lined up on my arms. There was one left for Edward to grab. “Damn, isn’t that heavy? I can carry more than that.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine, just open the door.”

Edward opened the door, and I walked in. “Am I in the same room again?”

Edward shook his head. “No, I want you right next to my room this time.” He showed me to a room right next to his, but furthest down the hall. Someone walking down the hall would have to cross his room first, to get to mine. He was taking this really seriously. Which was a good thing for me.

We set all the bags down on the bed. “Damn. Now I have to unpack all this. Edward smiled slightly, and meandered out of the room. I guess he didn’t want to help with that. Funny, I didn’t want to do it either.

***

An hour later, all my clothes were de-tagged and in drawers and on hangers. I laid down on the bed, kicking off my shoes, and kicking the paper shopping bags off my bed. I fell into a dreamless sleep. I woke up once briefly as covers were being pulled up over me. It was cold in the house with the air conditioning going. I didn’t mind the cover. It was comfy. I fell back asleep without a second thought about who had covered me up.

***

The night air was cool, the stars shined down, diamonds spread across the velvet blanket of deep black above. I was on a large balcony, facing an large house. It wasn’t a house. It was an estate, maybe even a castle. Ivy climbed up the sides, adding a tasteful green to the white walls. “Ma petite?”

I turned around, to see Jean-Claude sitting on the balcony. This was definitely a dream. “I am so out of here.” I began to stretch the dream.

Jean-Claude reached out urgently, “No, Anita, please,” he pleaded. I stopped and listened. He had used my real name, which caught my attention.

“What do you want, Jean-Claude?”

His hands fell to rest in his lap. “Richard and I are worried about you. I came to check if you are alright. Are you?”

I sighed and nodded. “Yeah, for now.” I was glad Jean-Claude had come, and not Richard. Jean-Claude could be more reasonable. Sometimes.

“We could feel your stress through the marks, but not much else. You blocked us out. We were so worried. Your house burned to the ground, your car was blown to pieces, and you were no where to be found. Sergeant Storr came to us asking where you were. We had no idea.” There was a true strain of worry in his voice. I sighed again, suddenly not so angry at him, as I had been before. I didn’t want to jump his bones though, so there was hope.

“I’m sorry, Jean-Claude. But I had to leave, and I couldn’t tell anyone where I was going.”

“Is someone trying to kill you? Again?”

I nodded. “A very scary psychopath that seems to have developed a crush on me. His fantasy seems to be dismembering me. He’s been killing women all over the country, that look like me. Short, dark hair, pale skin.”

Jean-Claude’s eyes widened. “Mon Dieu, ma petite!”

I nodded. “Yeah, you could say that. And what bugs me is I might have had the chance to kill him and stop it all.”

Jean-Claude raised an eyebrow. “Why did you not, Anita? I have never known you to hesitate pulling the trigger on such a foe.”

I stopped to think about that. “I don’t know,” I said slowly. “I guess…I guess I was just too scared.” I told him about how he had been in the house while I called Edward, and about the hand.

Jean-Claude nodded. “I can see where having a small dismembered hand tossed in your direction would…how do you say? Freeze you in your tracks.”

I laughed harshly. “I guess you could put it that way.”

“Where are you now, Anita?” I stood still and silent. Did I want to tell Jean-Claude where I was? Surely I could tell him. He certainly wouldn’t give it away, he was on my side. Even if he was pissed at me. Was he pissed at me really? It didn’t seem like it. But how could he not be? “Anita?”

“I’m near Sante Fe, with Edward.”

Jean-Claude’s eyes widened. “Have you forgotten all about Obsidian Butterfly? You are trying to stay alive, ma petite, not run into another enemy’s trap!”

Hmmm. “To be truthful, I haven’t given her a whole lot of thought. I don’t think I have to worry about her, I didn’t really make an enemy of her.”

He sighed, covering his eyes. “You are my human servant, Anita. You cannot just barge into such lands as this without politics.”

“Can it, Jean-Claude. Don’t even start, because guess what? I just did!” I was starting to get angry again.

Jean-Claude spread out his hands. “Please do not get angry, ma petite.”

“Then don’t push me.”

“Very well, I will try not to. But there is one more matter I wish to discuss, that perhaps will not bode very well with you.” He glanced up at me. “I received your message from the angry ulfric. Is this true, Anita? Are you truly abandoning us?” It sounded so mean when he put it like that. But that was what’s going on. I nodded. Once up, once down. He laughed harshly. “I never thought you would leave both of us, Anita.”

“Neither did I for a long time, Jean-Claude. But I am. I love both of you. But I’m no longer IN love with either of you.”

Jean-Claude looked down to the ground, to the toes of his expensive boots. He licked his lips. He turned those midnight blue eyes up to me, they were glittering with unshed tears. Damn it. Hell no. He wasn’t allowed to cry. I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling. I found myself walking to him, one step, another, until I was standing in front of him, looking up at him. I wrapped my arms around his torso. He was actually shorter than me sitting on the railing. He wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my hair. I realized he was trembling slightly. “I love you, Anita.”

“I’m sorry, Jean-Claude.”

He drew back, hands on my waist. “You feel that to ever have a half normal life, you have to break away from the triumvirate.”

I swallowed hard. “There might be some truth to that.”

“You want to settle down. But not with a white picket fence.”

“No, not with a white picket fence.” I knew the white picket fence resembled Richard.

“Perhaps with a sage brush fence? And perhaps a sun bleached cow skull hanging above the door?” His eyes were questioning. He was asking about Edward.

“Hmmm. The cow skull sounds so cliché.” I tried to crack a joke. Jean-Claude didn’t smile.

“Are you in love with monsieur Edward?” I immediately opened my mouth to say no, but Jean-Claude placed fingers on my lips gently. “Be honest, ma petite.”

I paused to think. Did I? God, I didn’t know. And I couldn’t honestly just say no anymore. “I don’t know, Jean-Claude.”

He nodded and sighed mournfully. “Very well, Anita.” His thumbs moved in small circles at my sides. But for once I didn’t think he was trying to seduce me. He just wanted to touch me, because it would be the last time in a long time, possibly ever. “May I have a good bye kiss, then?” he inquired.

I leaned in, and gently kissed his lips. He didn’t push in to make it more. He probably didn’t want the memory to haunt him.

“Well isn’t this a pretty picture. Why do you always make up and make out with the vampire first?”

I frowned, turning slightly. “You know Richard, you just have a knack for ruining a moment.” I turned back to Jean-Claude, ignoring Richard for now. I kissed his forehead. “Go back to Asher, Jean-Claude. It will make you both happy.” I looked down at him. There was relief in his eyes. Some sort of release. It was a confirmation that I wouldn’t come back to St. Louis pissed if I found he and Asher holding hands.

He nodded. “As you wish, ma petite.”

I smiled grimly, and stepped away. My arm slid through Jean-Claude’s reluctant hands all the way to the fingertips. “Good bye, Jean-Claude.”

“Good bye, Anita.” He closed his eyes. A single blood tinged tear ran down his cheek.

I turned around, to find my nose in Richard’s chest. I craned my neck up. “And what do YOU want?” I asked angrily.

“Don’t I get a goodbye kiss too?” he asked bitterly. He was pissed. Good. Because suddenly, so was I.

“No.”

With that I shattered the dream, waking up. It was morning outside, the sunlight said maybe 8:00. I got out of bed, changed into new clothes and weapons, and followed my nose to the smell of bacon frying in the pan.



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