“What have you done to her?” Christopher hissed, heading into the bedroom where Anya had been tied hand and foot to the bed “And why is she covered in blood?” he demanded heading to his sister’s side and beginning to untie her.
“I didn’t know what else to do” Vincent admitted feeling as humble as he ever had in as long as he could remember. “She tried to cut her own wrists… I stopped the bleeding but I didn’t know what to do to stop her trying again”
“Have you tried talking to her?” the young lord reasoned, while Anya babbled as him almost incoherently about monsters and grabbed at him to save her.
“Of course” he nodded, “She no-longer listens to what I have to say”. For the first time in several hundred years he felt truly like a monster.
The look she’d given him had hurt him deeply and for a moment he’d cursed himself for even hoping that she loved him enough to see past such a thing. Her aura flickering with more fear than it had the day after Peter’s defilement he realised then she feared for her soul for more than she could ever have feared for her body.
He’d done a terrible thing, for which there was no forgiveness.
“Anya sweetie are you still with me?” Christopher asked, turning his back on Vincent and leaving the vampire to do nothing but hopelessly watch.
She nodded frantically “Are going to take me home” she begged, “I don’t want to stay here”
“If that’s what you want” he agreed, “But I thought we both might stay here till we’ve had chance to think things though?”
“I don’t want to” she mumbled, “It’s not safe here Chris… please don’t make me stay”
“I don’t think the Baron intends to hurt either of us” he reasoned, “He’s very worried about you”
“He’s not a him at all” she reasoned. “He’s a demon Chris… he’s not natural…. Please take me away from here”
“Trust me Anya he’s a good man”
“Chris your talking madness… I see … I dream… the things he’s done, I see it”
Christopher paused, looking back at him from the bed “Dream’s?” he queried seeming unimpressed.
“Another of my kind came, she implanted Anya with memories from my past….. my less than proud moments. Anya has been re-living these memory’s though her dreams”
“What sort of memory’s” the young man growled.
“I told you, less than proud ones…. Ones from when I was younger and less able to control the thirst”
“She’s reliving your murder’s?!”
“Yes” he nodded shamefully, “In graphic detail”
“Damn you Vincent, I knew this was a bad idea how on earth did I let you talk me into this”
“You didn’t need that much persuading as I recall” Vincent replied bitterly.
“Well can’t you get rid of them, aren’t you supposed to be the master of altering memory’s?”
“The one who did this is more powerful than me, she’s completely closed Anya’s mind to me”
“I thought you were supposed to be powerful” The young lord hissed.
“I never proclaimed to be the only one”
“Well if you so damn old. How come everywhere we look there seems to be one more powerful, screwing us up???”
“I admit it’s surprised me” Vincent replied. “I always found it strange Siren chose to settle here…. But now I’m starting to think there is more going on, than a simple interest in the Garou’s Caern”
“Damn it” Christopher cursed “And none of this helps Anya”
“Chris did you know?” Anya asked her voice barely a whisper.
Realising the young man was dangerously close to losing his sister’s trust, he interrupted before he could answer. “No he didn’t… at least not till ‘after’ we were married” he lied.
“Chris?!” Anya pleaded.
“Anya I don’t believe he mean’s to hurt you”
“He’s a demon” she reasoned, with desperation in her voice.
“No not really” he explained “Anya your marriage was blessed in a house of god… he can’t be a demon, God would never have allowed him to set foot on the soil would he?”
“I don’t know” she whimpered.
“Anya listen to me…. Do you think I would leave you here, if I did not believe this man to have your best intention’s at heart?”
“But he isn’t a man” she whispered, “He’s dead, damned by god”
“No Anya I do not believe that to be the case” he reasoned, “I have seen good in him”
She fell silent, he tried to read her aura but it’s chaotic maelstrom of colour’s where to chaotic to make sense of he watched as Christopher stroked her face and tried to sooth her. He was good man he decided, he’d known it for a while but the way he cared for his sister now and the colours in the young man’s aura showed just how noble a man he was grown into.
It seemed like an age before Anya spoke again, but when she did she said only one sentence her eyes filled with fear. “Oh Chris!” she whispered “Your damned as well”