A/N: I sooo don�t know where this came from. Um, you can flame me if ya� wish. I would yell at myself if I read this. I mean, the story is okay, but I�m mean to many different characters, I think. I didn�t mean to, really, just read it. Please.
Draw Down by: DragonMouse ~( 8>
The graves were fresh brown scars in the earth as I sat at the funeral. It was pitch dark out, but portable flood lights had been brought in. The funeral was scheduled for after sunset so the vampires could come, and come they did. Even Malcolm showed up, talking of how respected the deceased was.
I glanced around at the small crowd. Asher looked pale, if it was possible. Damien, well, he looked as if he were about to throw up or cry. Everyone else looked the same, stricken. I closed my eyes, tears squeezing out. We were all so miserable. The pack, the vampires, the humans. The pard was taking it particularly hard, after all, she was almost one of their own. Zane and Cherry were here, in the back, leaning on each other for support, but the rest couldn�t make it.
The ceremony would be short, since there were no bodies to bury. The only reason there was graves was so a bit of the ashes could be committed to the earth. I stared, unseeing, at the nearly matching urns, placed by their respective headstones for the time being. It had been Jean-Claude�s idea to have them match. Even in grief, he was coordinated. Once again, my mind was traveling back to that time just five days ago when the world turned around.
*~*
I whistled tunelessly as I walked to the door. She wasn�t expecting me, but I loved surprising Anita. I paused before knocking to adjust my flower arrangement slightly. Sniffing from a distance, I could still smell them. The benefits of being a werewolf. But beyond that smell was something else, something a couple hours old. It wasn�t Anita and it wasn�t a pard member. It was the scent of that man, Edward.
A growl almost escaped past my lips before I could clamp down on it. It was too close to the full moon for strong emotions, like jealousy, my inner werewolf reminded me. Jealousy? Yes, jealousy, it confirmed. I shook my head in an attempt to make the little nagging voice go away, and it worked, for now.
I was raising my hand to knock when a shot echoed from far away and a searing pain shot through my side. I collapsed to my knees and couldn�t seem to get enough breath. The bullet got your lung, the little voice screamed. At that moment, there was no room for anything but the pain in my mind. When I reached for the wound, I was shocked to find there was none, but the pain persisted.
Jean-Claude�s voice echoed in my head, �Find Anita! Find her _now_!� I was about to argue when the pain lessened and could breathe again. He was taking the pain so I would be able to find her. I closed my side of the marks and opened my connection to the pack, drawing on their strength.
I ran like the wild thing inside me through the woods, following the smell of gunpowder and the scent of Anita. Barely avoiding any number of perils, I ran full out, not caring about myself. When the smells of guns, blood, Anita, and Edward became very close, I slowed, loping along.
Stopping before I reached the clearing, I took in the sights, not wanting to just barge in. Anita had once told me to be afraid of Edward, so I wasn�t taking any chances. My Anita was cradled to his chest and he was holding his shirt to the wound, but there was too much blood, too much. She was gasping, her eyes a bit unfocused. His lips were moving and I made an effort to listen.
�I�m sorry, I�m sorry, I had to know. You weren�t supposed to die, please don�t die. Stay with me, please, please, please.� He drew a deep, shuddering breath and it came back out in a sob. Dammit, he was crying. Before that, I was ready to tear him limb from limb, and still might, if he stops.
He was talking again, babbling really. �I asked nice, please. Please stay with me. I can�t lose you. I�ll never threaten you again. I�ll quit keeping secrets, I promise. I-I love you. Please.�
I felt, then saw her gather her waning strength. She reached for his face, that monster�s face, and wiped a tear away. �I can�t stay. But I- forgive--you.� On the last word, as if saying those words released her, her body slumped, dead. I felt a slight pang were the marks normally tugged at me, but she didn�t pull Jean-Claude or me down with her, trying to get enough power to live. She just went, as if she let go.
Not caring about caution anymore, I stumbled into the clearing. Raving, I screamed, �You bastard! You son of a bitch! You killed her! You-�
He fixed me with one of his gazes, the ones that make anybody�s blood run cold. I froze, only because it wasn�t cold. If it had been, I would have tried my claws against Death anyway. Love, regret, and unmeasurable grief could be read in those reddened eyes and tear tracks. Still holding her with one arm, he reached his blood soaked hand to his Baretta next to him. He picked it up slowly, as if it wouldn�t be a threat if he picked it up without speed. Then, he pointed it to his temple with equal consideration.
He tries to speak once, choked on a sob, then tried again. �She was my soul-mate.� When the gun went off, I squeezed my eyes shut, but not before seeing the trees painted in blood.
~( 8>