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Chapter 17
Quebec
Will was dozing before the fire when Anne returned. A feeling of lightness overrode his dark thoughts. It had only been a dream—the dark, twisted encounter last night—brought on by his writing about vampires. It had nothing at all to do with his actual feelings for the real Anne. His inner psyche took his fears for Anne—that she had come out of a violent situation—and twisted them, making him the violent, vampire boyfriend.The subconscious works that way, sometimes, he realized. The subconscious isn't rational; it mixes fears and emotions together in strange ways. It was no different from his childhood nightmare that a poached egg was chasing him, attempting to smother him . . .
Convince yourself yet, mate?
Will heard the back door open.
“Anne?” he called.
“Oh, hey. I'm in the kitchen.”
Will clambered to his feet, replaced the cushion on the couch and joined her in the kitchen. She had never looked more beautiful. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold. He couldn't resist.
Will drew her into his arms and lowered his head. Their lips met and electricity flashed through them both. He could swear he saw the blue sparks. He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, and they parted invitingly, but it was Anne who thrust her tongue into his mouth.
When they finally parted, gasping for breath, Anne shrugged out of the backpack containing the groceries, letting it fall to the floor. She reached up and gently touched his bruised eye. He covered her hand with his and brought it to his lips, planting a kiss on her palm, and then on each fingertip in turn. He sucked her thumb into his mouth, circling it with his tongue, and then nibbled at the base.
Anne ran her other hand through his hair and nipped his earlobe. Her tongue traced a path down his neck to the hollow of his throat. She could feel his pulse beating rapidly with excitement. Her hand moved over his chest, resting over his heart; the beat under her hand a tiny fraction of a second sooner than the pulse under her tongue.
His hand mirrored hers, resting over her heart and within seconds, their hearts were beating in unison. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, both asking and answering the unspoken question. In accord with each other, they moved into the living room. Will retrieved the cushion from the couch for a second time, placing it on the rug before the fire. Anne went to the bedroom and brought out the thick down comforter, throwing it over both the cushion and braided rug.
They stood facing each other before the crackling fire. Anne slowly began to unbutton his flannel shirt. His ribs were still taped, but she caught her breath as she saw the rainbow of colors from deep purple to red to green tinged with yellow, painting his beautiful abs.
“Are you . . . able? I'd forgotten how bad . . .”
“Shush. It's all right. I'm fine.”
“I don't want to hurt you again! I never want to hurt you . . .we could wait?”
“I fear that would kill me! We'll be careful.”
He reached out to touch her face, laying his hand along her cheek, stroking her throat with his thumb. She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes. His other hand cupped her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple until it hardened. Her arms slid around his waist, slowly moving up and down over the muscles of his back.
His hands dropped to the hem of her T-shirt, pulling it over her head. He bent to kiss her as he unfastened her bra. She let it slide down her arms and then her hands slowly explored his chest. His hand returned to her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers as he bent his head to kiss her other breast.
Will dropped to his knees in front of her, sliding both the sweatpants and white cotton panties she was wearing down to her ankles. She impatiently kicked them away. He slowly ran his hands down the smooth curve of her ass, leaving a trail of gentle kisses from her breast down her belly.
He teased her clit with his tongue, licking and sucking until she moaned. He parted her folds, thrusting his agile tongue into her, stroking and circling her clit with his thumb. Her hips began to move and he grasped her ass, thrusting his tongue, then withdrawing to lick and suck her clit before thrusting again.
She gripped his shoulders as she came, and then carefully eased him down to lie back on the cushion. Her hands undid his button and zipper and slid the soft jeans over his slim hips. Bracing her hands on either side of his head, she bent to kiss him. Slowly and passionately, she explored his mouth, tasting herself with undertones of his minty toothpaste. She felt the fire between them build as he began to heatedly kiss her back, his hard cock nudging her belly.
Anne sank back on her knees, guiding him into her, and slowly began to move. He gripped her ass, urging her to move harder and faster and she complied. She arched her back and rode him as he reached to fondle her breasts.
As he felt his climax build, he slipped his thumb between them, hoping to bring her with him. He felt her body clench around him as he came.
“Oh, Buffy!” he cried. His voice was low and ragged. “I love you so much.”
Anne smiled. She thought his English colloquialisms were so cute. She gently touched his face and leaned down to kiss him.
“I think I love you too, buffy,” she whispered.
**********
Bath
Willow grinned. She found Bernard Addison adorable! She was liking him more and more the longer she spent in his company. Hmm, she thought. Maybe Anna Nichole got a bad rap. Maybe she did love that old guy, 'cause Bernie's certainly a sweetie!He had insisted on sitting in the back seat, allowing Willow the front next to Giles. “The view would be wasted on me, child,” he'd said.
That, in itself, endeared him to her—she got carsick in the back, but hadn't wanted to mention it. He then spent the entire trip with his head hanging out the window like a dog, sniffing the air and making astute comments on where they were and what they were seeing by scent alone. Within the first hour, she was feeling so comfortable with him, she had totally dropped the 'Mr. Addison' and was calling him 'Bernie'.
Giles had looked like he was about to have a stroke, but Bernie was delighted.
By the time they arrived at Giles' house, Bernard was practically bouncing in his seat with excitement. Yep. Definite puppyish qualities, Willow thought. She'd better get a grip before she began petting the venerable sage on the head and scratching behind his ears!
Giles helped him out of the back seat and was about to offer his arm for support, but Bernard was already moving briskly up the walk, his cane barely necessary.
Giles brought in the bags and then started the water for tea while Willow sliced a pound cake and Bernard washed his hands.
Ensconced in the living room with a repast of tea, cake, biscuits and crackers and cheese, Bernard was too excited to eat.
“Please, may I just see it for a moment?” he asked. “Then you can tell me all about your translations and we can enjoy this lovely tea.”
Understanding his eagerness, Giles handed him the Codex in its case.
Bernard held the case across both palms and Willow again observed the phenomenon with his eyes, as the milkiness disappeared and his irises shone so darkly brown they appeared black.
“A Guardian has been lost. A Guardian must be found to restore the balance. A brave knight seeks his salvation in the arms of a warrior-woman, but she is not for him. She belongs with the dark knight who is her champion. Together they will find balance from both the light and dark, conquering both and neither, for both are necessary.
“No, his destiny will not be found with this warrior-woman. His destiny lies much deeper . . . When he finds his sense of purpose, he will be whole in spirit and his true mate will find him . . .”
Bernard's eyes clouded over and he carefully handed the scroll to Giles. He rubbed his hands together and reached for a biscuit.
“Let's eat! I'm feeling quite peckish.”
**********
Willow excused herself to make a phone call to Pilar while Giles and Bernard lingered over tea. They were all tired and would probably make an early night of it, but Willow had plans to invite Bernie to the pub for lunch tomorrow. This was foremost in her mind as the call finally went through.
“Hola?”
“Pilar? It's Willow.”
“Oh, Willow—I'm so glad to hear from you. I really miss you. How are things going with your Scoobies?”
“Oh, I have so much to tell you, I don't even know where to start! Buffy's missing—maybe—or she might just be busy; we don't know yet. Giles got ahold of a really ancient manuscript that's really fascinating and I met the most adorable man—he's a total sweetheart and I'm planning to take him to lunch tomorrow!”
The dead silence on the line caused Willow to worry that the connection had been lost.
“Pilar? Are you there, sweetie? Pilar?”
“Yes, I am here. I am very glad for you and wish you much happiness.”
There was a catch in her voice and Willow thought she heard a muffled sob.
“Pilar? Baby? Is everything all right?”
“Of course it is not all right. You say you are leaving me and you expect it to be all right?”
“Wha'? Leaving you? Where did you get the idea I'm leaving you? I just found you! I'm sorry I haven't called for a few days, but Giles and I have been busy with the researchiness and we're not sure what to do about Buffy—”
“But not too busy researching to date?”
“Date? I think we might be having a slight language problem here . . . what do you mean by 'date'?”
“It means when you meet an adorable man and go to lunch with him! That is what it means in Argentina!”
Willow burst out laughing.
“Oh, Pilar! I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding. You really thought—” She was giggling too hard to speak for a moment. “No, no! It's not like that at all! Bernie—Giles' friend—is like a hundred! He's older than my grandparents. He's just really cute, but a bit scary 'cause he's this powerful mystic psychic and—” An additional burst of the giggles forced her to pause. “I can't believe you thought . . . you thought I was interested in Bernie! I mean, yeah, he's a very interesting man, but—I'm not interested in Bernie; I'm interested in you! But . . . Bernie would be just perfect for Esperanza. Do you think we could hook them up?”
Pilar appeared to seriously consider the question.
“I do not think so. Since the death of my abuelo, my Nana has been content with her life. She enjoys her independence and answers to no one. I do not think she would be willing to give that up to take care of a man—even an 'adorable' one.”
“No, I guess not. I just really miss you and I wish you could meet Giles and Bernie and . . . I wish you were here with me.”
“I could be, if you wish. Nana has said I will be needed and advised me to make sure my passport is up-to-date.”
“Really? Esperanza said that? Hang on . . .”
Willow put the phone down and went into the living room.
“Giles? I can't believe I'm asking this, but do you think we could squeeze in one more here? My friend, Pilar—I think I told you I was staying with her family in Buenos Aires? Well, her grandmother is a Wisewoman and she communicates with the Orishas and she's 'seen' that we'll have need of Pilar and—”
Bernard broke in. “You may well have need of her, Rupert. She comes from an entirely different discipline and has power of which she is not yet aware. It takes many disparate skeins to make a strong net. And we are fishing, yes? We just do not yet know what the catch will be.”
“Yes, certainly,” Giles agreed. “If you both think this Pilar will add to the mix, by all means invite her. She's welcome to stay here. We'll find room for her somewhere.”
“Not a problem,” Willow grinned. “She can stay with me.”
**********
Quebec
Lucien stood outside the small, but perfectly proportioned, church of St. Anne de Beaupré. A petite sister church of the great Basilica, it was very different in scope and size, but had its own special charm. This is where the trail ended.
At this spot, his extra-sensory connection to the woman he sought . . . stopped. It ceased to exist. Perhaps he had been wrong and she was dead? No! He could not believe that.
Or . . . perhaps she was . . . unconscious. That could explain how the unique signature he had been tracking suddenly just . . . disappeared.
He was tired tonight—he had traveled far. An ironic smile curved the corners of his lips. Yes, he had traveled far, on foot, seeking her . . . only to end up 15km from his own lair. He would sleep tonight on his native earth and tomorrow he would check hospital admissions and death notices.
He was close . . . he could feel it. He would find her and make her his . . . for eternity.
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