Living as Lenore: Chapter 29 "The Logic of the Dying"
Title: Living as Lenore
Author: Luna (aka Luna_del_Cielo on lj)
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Cast of Characters: Tara/Lenore McLeod, Fergus McLeod/Crowley, Loki/Gabriel, Anya, Castiel, Kali, Eli, Angel, Darla, the Immortal, Bilquis, Spike, Drusilla, Dean, Sam, Scoobies
Rating: T
Summary: Willow tried to bring Tara back…and she did. Unfortunately, she was brought back to life in 1672. Now 'Lenore' has to deal with witches, demons, pagan gods, and even angels, as she struggles to find the red-haired woman she sees in her dreams.
Pairings: Multiple pairings that will include the characters: Anya, Gabriel, Kali, Tara/Lenore, the Immortal, Willow - at least.
Spoilers: BTVS S6E19 ‘Seeing Red’, SPN S2E3 ‘Bloodlust’. Spoilers for Crowley's past in S6 “Weekend at Bobby’s” and Trickster/Loki's past in S5 ‘Changing Channels’
Warnings: Character death, Femslash (nothing explicit)
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I did then fewer people would have died in each of those shows :)
Read specific chapters here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22| Chapter 23| Chapter 24| Chapter 25| Chapter 26| Chapter 27| Chapter 28|
Or all of the entire story here: The Need was back. It called to her like a siren; deadly and duplicitous it desired nothing more than to turn her into a beast that would feed upon her very brother.
The Logic of the Dying
St. Petersburg, Russia
November 22, 1869
“Care to dance?” an accented voice purred in her ear.
Lenore gave the speaker a bland look. She was statuesque with brilliant blue eyes and long blond hair pulled back in an exquisite design. Her evening gown matched her eyes and it was extremely revealing for something in this decade - it tightened around a complimentary corset and her bosom spilled out almost far enough to see her nipples. She was gorgeous, to be sure, but there was another problem.
She was a vampire - one that drank humans.
“I didn’t come here to dance, just a drink,” Lenore explained as she gestured towards her Bloody Mary. This vampire-owned establishment was one she was researching. The head vampire of this city was a half-breed named Dmitri known for his cut-throat savagery. For whatever reason there were more half-breeds flocking here than you could shake a stick at and sources said Angelus and his gang were here as well. Not to mention, Lenore was curious as to why this city’s vampire population was growing - it was always smart to know everything about your prey before you attacked.
“Baby,” she leered, “if it’s a drink you want I got a cute little street urchin in the back. Want to share with me?”
Lenore blanched. The instinct to kill the vampire rose in her mind, but she couldn’t. Not here among so many. Half-breeds were nothing compared to her but a room of thirty of them? That may stress even her abilities.
“Listen, I’m actually looking for a fellow named Angelus. Travels with Darla and Drusilla?”
The other vampire scowled in a petulant way. “Should have known you were taken.”
Lenore discarded the compliment. “So they’re here?”
“I heard they were going to check out the Hermitage.”
“Thanks,” Lenore said with a patient smile as she spun away and exited the bar.
Finally.
The Hermitage was part of the Winter Palace and home to hundreds of fine art pieces ranging from ancient Egyptian to the Baroque. Lenore had always desired to see the famous art pieces here but never had a chance. Hmm. Perhaps after she killed Angelus and Darla she would take a midnight stroll through the museum.
There seemed to be a royal party taking place and Lenore silently cursed her luck. No wonder they were here - no doubt Angelus would drain a member of royalty amidst the chaos of the party. All these humans here would make it much more difficult to corner the two vampires. Worse, she still had not decided what to do about Drusilla. She suspected the young vampire would try to protect her sire if she was here but Lenore didn’t want to kill her.
Yes, she knew that Drusilla was no longer truly ‘Drusilla’, but the guilt Lenore harbored over her death made her reluctant to kill the girl. She was clearly mad but perhaps it would be possible for Lenore to gain her trust and teach her to feed off only animal blood.
Lenore bypassed the guards easily with a silent spell that hid her from their eyes. She was so thankful for her magic. While living with Loki and Kali she had learned how to use it and over the centuries it helped her to live. Of course, she had never used it that much because she did not want to become dependent on it, but now that she had been alone for almost ten years she used it every day. Since she was alone and hunting demons, she clearly had to - it was necessary. It made life so much easier.
She flitted through the crowd like a dancing butterfly, easily making her way through the ballroom. Her sharp eyes took in every person and she was surprised when she bumped into a familiar face.
“Anyanka!” Lenore said in surprise.
Anyanka pulled away from the woman she was talking to and cocked her head to the side. “Oh…you! How are…you, you?”
Lenore rolled her eyes at the fact that Anyanka could never remember her. “Lenore? You know, you saved me from that angel and we saw each other at Heracle’s party?”
“OH! You’re Lenore?” Anyanka cried out in surprise. She glanced at the woman next to her and grimaced when a man whisked her off to dance. “Great, thanks a lot,” she grumbled. “I was just trying to get her to curse that guy.”
Then Anyanka’s eyes widened. “Curse? I mean…hah. Not curse. I, um, don’t do that anymore. Nope! I’m a very friendly demon sent here to cure syphilis and hug puppies and pat little children on the head.”
Lenore found herself snickering at the demon’s outburst. “I’m not here to kill you.”
Anyanka let out a sigh of relief. “Coulda fooled me, you crazy vampire. I’ve heard a lot about you and your rather blood-soaked hijinks as of late.”
Lenore shrugged. “We all have our hobbies.”
Laughing in surprise, Anyanka shook her head. “Indeed. Although last I remembered your hobbies involved trying to be a good little vampire converting others peacefully. And boning the Immortal. How’s he by the way?”
Guilt danced upon her heart at the mention of her old ways. “Most of my kind are extinct now, thanks to the Hunters - and the Great Battle of Alaska - so there’s no use trying to convert others. As for the Immortal? We’re no longer together.”
“Hmm, pity,” Anyanka frowned. “Was he not that good in the sack?”
“No, he was quite good, actually,” Lenore smiled in amusement. “It just wasn’t a love connection or anything.”
“Love! Ha, who needs that?” Anyanka said scornfully. “Love is for fools!”
“Yeah…I kind of agree with you on that,” Lenore admitted.
Anyanka’s brown eyes assessed her intently. “Hmm, yes, I can smell the heartbreak wafting off you. Such a shame I don’t do curses for other demons, you really look like you could use one.”
The almost sympathetic tone of Anyanka’s softened something in her. It made her remember her old life and hanging out with the gang in the Magic Box. “Yeah, well,” she shrugged, “I’m taking my own revenge.”
“Oh, what fun! That is, of course, as long as you don’t kill me.” She pursed her lips. “Well, actually, I am immortal so I ‘spose I don’t have to worry about that, but one can never know with you witchy types.”
“Don’t worry, I’m rather…fond of you,” Lenore informed her with a smile.
“Thanks! You know, you’re not that bad yourself. Unless you’re still all ‘yay animal blood, boo humans.’ Because that’s not as much fun.”
“I don’t eat humans,” Lenore stated sharply. It was always tempting though, even more so than it used to be.
“Hmm. Well, that’s boring. I woulda thought as Crowley’s pet you’d have changed that by now.”
“…What?”
Anyanka looked at her like she was stupid. “The King of the Crossroads Demons’ pet? He sends you to kill anyone that looks at him wrong.”
Lenore silently cursed her brother. Sure he gave her tips on some of the real bad demons during their drinking sessions but she certainly wasn’t his damn pet. She should have known that he would say something like that - anything to make him look even more intimidating. He had told her at Heracles’ party that he would always love her but had never said such a thing since then. She enjoyed his company and did love him, but sometimes she wondered just how evil he was. Maybe he didn’t love her but was just using her for his own ends.
That hurt almost as bad as Loki’s rejection.
“I’m not his goddamn pet,” Lenore snarled.
“Hmmph, jeez, okay Lenore. Way to get all testy ‘bout it. But demons talk and everyone knows you two hang out. You better not be screwing him though - he’s my favorite toy this century.”
Lenore let out a snort of laughter; her anger already dissipating. She really did enjoy Anyanka. “That’s fine, you can have him. He’s not my type.”
“Oh yeah? Well who is?” Anyanka asked curiously.
Just then Lenore spotted a flash of blond hair accompanied by a man with broad shoulders that she would recognize anywhere. “He is,” she smiled grimly in anticipation as she abruptly left Anyanka.
She slid through the couples dancing on the ballroom floor, her eyes intent on her prey. Angelus glanced up once and his eyes widened when he saw her. He scowled and led Darla outside. Lenore followed in hot pursuit and when she entered the spacious gardens of the Hermitage, she glanced around wildly. She had long suspected that the vampires had some sort of charm to hide them from her magic and that theory was proven - she couldn’t feel their presence at all.
There was a maze made of high hedges in the center of the garden and something told Lenore they were in there. Angelus and Darla were known for their games and they would undoubtedly love to fight here within a maze. Of course, it would be dangerous to enter there but Lenore wasn’t afraid. She had been waiting years for this.
Eyes and ears alert, Lenore entered the maze cautiously. She used a spell to summon her sword and now held it aloft, ready to thrust it into one of the vampires. Once she had them she planned on killing them very slowly.
“Oh Lennie-poo, have you missed me?” she heard Angelus ask with a dark laugh. His voice hung in the air, heavy and ominous, but due to the layout of the maze she had no idea where he was.
Lenore, smarter than that, stayed silent. She would not give up her location. Instead she just tried to follow his voice.
“Lenore, you should really see your granddaughter. Drusilla is an exquisite beauty, especially when her pretty lace dress is soaked in baby blood. She’s truly a treasure.”
She knew he was baiting her but she couldn’t help but ride out the wave of fury his words brought out. Angelus would pay, dearly.
“Not to mention, she mewls at me like a wanton whore if I neglect her too much. Mmm, she loves the feel of me between her legs. In fact, sometimes I imagine it’s you when I’m fucking my dear ‘daughter’.”
A hiss of anger escaped her but she stayed otherwise silent. She did not doubt that his words were true - Drusilla without a soul would be much different from the saintly girl she had known. Even more reason to torture the bastard.
She felt something sharp pierce her right arm and she lost her grip on her sword. Growling she peered at her bloody arm and yanked out the offending weapon. “Really, Angelus? A ninja star?”
“Um, the proper word is ‘shuriken’,” he answered pompously right behind her. She whirled around and he quickly kicked away her sword.
“Where’s Darla?”
“Gosh, I don’t know,” Angelus replied with a mocking smile.
Lenore raised her hand, intending to telekinetically throw him onto the ground, and pushed at him.
Angelus just stood there grinning and she gawked in surprise. “Aw, I’m sorry. Is my anti-witch protection charm throwing you off?” Then he plowed into her, kneeing her in the stomach and punching her in the nose. Lenore screamed and broke his arm at the same time he busted her kneecap.
“You will die today, Angelus!” she swore as she pirouetted away from his kick, then leapt over him to punch the vampire hard enough to break his backbone. He grunted and stumbled but managed to throw two hard punches her way, which she returned with a rib-cracking kick. He fell backwards and she flew onto him in a rage, punching him until his face was covered with blood.
And then he laughed.
“You’re feisty,” he grinned as he grabbed the sides of her hips and thrust upward. Disgusted by the feel of his arousal, she rolled off him and then stabbed her booted heel into his crotch.
“Darling, don’t tell me you started the foreplay without me,” Darla stated forlornly with a glimmer of a smile as she held up Lenore’s sword.
“What can I say? Lennie here is insatiable!” Angelus laughed.
With a guttural cry, Lenore flew towards Darla. The older vampire laughed and swung the sword, but Lenore danced away from it. Darla was skilled, even more so than Angelus, but Lenore had fought against gods. While Angelus watched in amusement, still spitting up blood, he called out a warning when Lenore gained the upper hand and tore the sword from Darla’s hand. Screaming like an Amazon warrior, Lenore kicked Darla backwards onto the ground and then drove the sword into her heart. The vampire let out a shrill scream, gasping in shock, but was still alive.
After all, only wood in her heart would kill her. But this? This would hurt like a bitch - especially since she got the sword blessed by a priest beforehand.
Lenore pulled a stake out of her boot but was surprised by Angelus tackling her. His broken bones and bloody cuts were certainly not enough to hurt him for long, but dammit! Would it kill fate to have just given her another minute?
She fought against his bear hug, her hand holding the stake flailing about. Lenore felt him shift above her and then another ninja star stabbed through her wrist, almost severing it. Dropping her stake, she saw him grab it and roll her over. Before she could move the stake was implanted in her heart.
PAIN exploded in her chest and she SCREAMED in one long stream of sound as red spots erupted in her vision.
Angelus’ voice came to her almost like a dream. “Shame stakes can’t kill your kind. But a beheading can.”
She felt the cool blade of the sword slice into her throat. Blood spurted out and she heard Angelus’ laughter. But then the laughter was gone and she was so, oh so, very confused, and was she dead yet?
“HEY! Vampire! What are you doing here!” a female voice called, one that sounded crisp and clean and rather familiar.
Moments later there was someone next to her muttering to herself. Lenore wondered when the pain, oh god the pain, would end.
There was a pulse of magic and the voice was shouting, “Crowley! Get here if you want your pet to live!”
But Lenore was fading…there was a tunnel entering the earth, colored in shades of grey, and it beckoned her to approach. “Come in,” it seemed to whisper temptingly. “Forget your battles. They are over. Find peace.”
She heard a frantic male voice above her. “Len? Dammit Len, don’t you die. I won’t allow it! Come back, I command it!”
How funny…those words sounded so familiar…ah, yes, it is because she had already died once. She wondered…where would she go when she died this time? This tunnel? Or would she be reborn again?
Perhaps she should find out…
Paris, France
December 15, 1869
“Goddammit Len! I need you to drink,” Fergus commanded her.
Lenore blinked once, a forceful no, in response. She couldn’t speak because her head was barely hanging onto her head so she wasn’t able to tell him ‘Hell no, I am not drinking human blood.’ However, he was able to read it in her eyes.
“Stop being so bloody stubborn. You’re not healing at all and if you don’t drink human blood to heal you’re going to bloody die, you moron,” he ranted at her angrily.
Lenore knew his anger shouldn’t please her, but it did. He must love her after all.
He sighed in irritation, a long heavy sigh that slapped her in the face. “Fine. Do you want to die? Then die! Because that animal blood you drink isn’t healing you. It barely sustains you as is - it was never meant to heal a vampire from this type of attack.”
She just stared back with a tenacious look in her eye. It hurt, everything hurt so bad, like she was standing on top of the sun and it was burning her from the inside. But she couldn’t do what he wanted of her. No matter how much she had fallen she couldn’t bring herself to do that.
Fergus let out a growl of frustration and kicked his chair. “You’re an idiot, Len. Most vampires don’t even survive a three-quarter decapitation and a stake to the heart. And you certainly won’t if you don’t drink some damn human blood.”
There was crying in the corner. Lenore knew it was the scared street girl Fergus had picked up for her. Poor girl. She was afraid what Fergus would do to her but Lenore couldn’t drink form her. Not now. Not anymore.
Paris, France
January 18, 1870
Fiery. Flaming. Burning. Bubbling. Hot. Sharp. Uncontrollable. Never-ending.
Lenore was almost an expert by now in thinking of different words to describe the constant pain she was immersed in. Her condition had not improved since her attack. Her sword had been blessed by a priest and she had never expected it to be shoved into her own body. That fact, coupled with her lack of healing human blood, prevented her neck wound from fully healing. Her heart had been completely ruptured by Angelus’ stake but whatever magic it was that animated her was still keeping her alive - but just barely. She lay immobile in a bedroom of Crowley’s immense estate (likely the estate of his meat suit). Three times a day one of his demon servants - his type, not the fleshy kind she killed - would feed her animal blood, but it did nothing to heal her.
She was dying. Slowly but surely Death was coming to claim her.
She let out a noise of agony as a particularly painful stab of pain sliced through her chest. Everything hurt so much that it took all of her concentration to ignore the tempting treats Fergus would bring for her. He always brought criminals - murderers and rapists - because, he said, “It’s not like they deserve to live anyway!”
And god help her, but in her desperation for a release from the pain she was starting to believe him.
Paris, France
March 11, 1870
A gentle hand ran through her hair. Lenore sighed happily at the smallest bit of pleasure amidst the pulsing pain that surrounded her life.
“Len,” Fergus whispered in a tortured voice. “Len, I don’t want you to die.”
Her vocal cords were still shorn to shreds so she couldn’t respond. But she gave him a soft look. She didn’t want to go, either. Fergus visited her every day and she really did love her brother. Then there were all those unanswered questions about Willow and her past/future in Sunnydale. But the pain was unbearable. She could barely even swallow animal blood now. A part of her wanted to die.
Fergus frowned. “Please, please have some human blood, ” he practically begged.
She shook her head and he just growled in irritation.
Paris, France
April 2, 1870
She let out a guttural cry of pain and convulsed in her bed. It was the end. She knew it.
She was dying. Every time she shut her eyes she saw that grey tunnel rising out of the earth to greet her, beckoning her to fall down the rabbit hole.
“Goddamn it, Len! I let you try it your way,” she heard her brother shout, but it sounded like his voice was coming through water, distorted and hard to understand. “Now it’s time you tried mine!”
Something wet hit her lips and she recoiled at the burning sensation. Her body felt like ice but this…oh this made her feel good. She licked her lips and made a sound of joy as more of the warmth entered her mouth. It traveled through her body, lighting up her entire world, and she shivered in contentment.
Every day for a week her brother would bring her more of this delicious treat. It wasn’t until her mind was fully functioning from her near-comatose state that she realized he was feeding her humans.
“Lenore, you would have died otherwise,” he explained to her in annoyance.
“I said no humans!” she rasped. She had gone months without being able to talk but now her throat, while still raw, was starting to become fully functional.
What she hated the most about this situation was that Fergus had been correct - human blood really was the key to healing her.
“And I should have done that months ago! Look at you! You no longer look like Death. You’re finally healing, even if you probably will be bed-bound for a while.”
“Well I won’t drink anymore,” she sternly informed him, even as part of her mind rebelled.
He crouched at her bedside and took her hand. “I swear by my shiny King of the Crossroads Demons crown that I only fed you evil men. That’s not so bad, right?”
“You have a…crown?” she asked in surprise.
“Well, yes. ‘Course, it’s made out of the bones of little children but it’s still rather shiny,” he smiled charmingly
She groaned in revulsion at the mental image.
“Lenore,” he brother stated in a commanding voice. “Think about it. You’ve spent years killing evil demons. But what about humans? Some of them are just as evil - if not more so. I mean, what sort of creature kills their own kind?” His nose crinkled in disgust.
“Killing humans is wrong,” she said, although her conviction wasn’t completely in it. She had seen a lot in her worldly travels and knew he was correct - there really were some evil humans out there.
“So what? So you’ll kill demons but neglect Mr. Ax Murderer all because he’s human, even though he’s about to kill an entire family? And what about Mr. No-Means-Yes? You gonna let him live even though he rapes women and children with pleasure?” Fergus questioned incredulously.
Lenore shuddered. The thought of rape still, even after all these years away from Aurelius, filled her with repulsion. “It’s not my place.”
“If not yours, then whose? Who’s going to save all those people?”
“…The police,” she replied hesitantly.
Fergus snorted in disdain. “Right, because they’re so bloody effective compared to a witchy vampire who can read auras and know when someone’s evil. Suuuure.”
“I’m not a killer,” she air with an air of finality - even though it sounded more like a protest to her ears than a statement.
Paris, France
April 16, 1870
After spending the last two weeks solely on animal blood, Lenore’s wounds began to pain her once more. She couldn’t walk without stumbling from the pain in her chest and her neck sometimes couldn’t support her head when she stood up. Throughout it all a pulsing fiery pain ate away at her body - and her mind. It was almost unbearable. She was spiraling downwards and she didn’t know how to stop her descent.
She didn’t want to die. Both times she had been on death’s doorway she had seen something. Some sort of tunnel leading into the ground. That wasn’t Heaven. She didn’t think it was Hell either, but she knew anyplace leading into the ground couldn’t be good.
Lenore had never thought that she would be denied Heaven. She had tried so hard for over two lifetimes to be good and help others and save lives - and she still wasn’t good enough for Heaven? The thought made her chest squeeze painfully at the apparent rejection. Did that mean she lied to her clan members? That she hadn’t been able to save their souls after all? Were they in this dark hell-like place suffering and cursing her name?
She didn’t know. But she did know that she didn’t want to go there.
But it was becoming clearer that the only way she’d survive was if she drank human blood. Maybe - maybe - she would heal on her own after at least one week of human blood under her belt. But it might take years for her to finish healing on only animal blood. Years of suffering.
…And why should she spend years suffering when she could be out there saving others from the evils of the world? Just as she had been over the last ten years?
Not to mention, if she died now and went down that tunnel, she would never see Willow again. Her former love was a good person and clearly would end up in Heaven.
Yes, if she considered it that way it all sounded quite rational. And Fergus had a point - innocent lives weren’t just taken by demons. Did it really matter if she drank the blood of evil humans?
Besides, it’s not like she had a chance at Heaven anymore.
Later that night her brother’s eyes lit up when she announced her decision. Not to long after that she gluttonly drank the tangy taste of a murderer’s blood.
Zaragoza, Spain
May 7, 1876
“Cheers to the birthday girl!” Fergus cried out gaily as he hoisted his tumbler of whiskey over their patio table in the plaza.
“Woo!” Anyanka shouted as she held up her limon granizado - a lemonade slushy drink that she had spiked with vodka.
Lenore laughed and held up her glass of red wine. “Salud, as the natives would say!”
The three of them, regular drinking buddies at this point, each took a swig of their drink. They were seated in a busy plaza during a warm spring night that featured a string quartet and dancing in the center of the open outdoor area. Since Lenore had fully recovered from her attack she had started spending more and more time with her brother. More time with Fergus inevitably meant more time with Anyanka (he was, as she had said, her ‘toy’ of the century). At first Lenore had been afraid to allow the demon to get to know her but she finally decided it wouldn’t really matter. While she looked just like her past persona (except her hair was black), Anyanka would likely just assume that Tara was her descendent (which, oddly, she was. But she didn’t like to think of that because the idea that she was her own ancestor kind of freaked her out).
Besides…Lenore kind of missed having friends. And now, even more so, she could never go back to the friends she used to have. At this point in her life it was easier to have friends who were a bit morally ambiguous. They understood her better than anyone at the moment.
“You know what this place needs? Needs some party decorations,” Fergus stated as he looked around.
Lenore made a face. “Crowley, I’d hate to see your idea of party decorations. I’m not really into using entrails as garlands.”
He just smirked at her and sipped his Craig whiskey.
“Entrails are fun to look at but so smelly. Personally I prefer decapitated heads.” Anyanka leaned forward intimately. “For example you should have seen the party after Marie Antoinette’s head got chopped off! Ha, oh man, we danced for hours around that thing.”
Fergus laughed and Lenore just shook her head with a smile on her face. Oh wow. Sometimes she couldn’t wait to head to Sunnydale in the future and regale the Scoobies with tales of Anyanka’s past…well, on second thought Xander would probably get rather skittish about the knowledge of his former fiancé.
Just to get her brother to shut up, Lenore performed a couple silent, but powerful spells. Immediately the plaza was decorated with red garland and fireworks were exploding over the sky.
“Nice!” Fergus admired. “Although it would probably be more fun if it was humans exploding up there,” he added - then winced after she smacked him.
“My, you are rather powerful,” Anyanka observed as the fireworks continued for twenty minutes. "Your magic is much stronger than I remember.”
Lenore shrugged. “I suppose that’s what happens when you use it everyday.”
Of course, she knew that if Willow could hear her then Lenore would sound rather hypocritical at that moment. As Tara she had time and time again critiqued Willow for her dependence on magic. But it was just that Lenore was different. Sure, she never used to use magic so often but she had been at it for a while and it didn’t seem to matter much. Lenore just figured it was different since she was a vampire, and a rather older one at that.
Once the fireworks ended, Anyanka turned back to Lenore and Fergus. “So, I’m thinking tonight we should purchase many of these tasty lemon-y drinks and then find a woman who’s been jilted by her lover!” she decided with an enthusiastic smile.
Fergus groaned. “Honestly Anyanka, don’t you ever think about anything besides work?”
“Sometimes I think about how you do that one thing you do with your-”
“Okay, enough of the mental imagery,” Lenore shuddered in distaste. Anyanka didn’t know (because Fergus was too paranoid for anyone to realize that, why yes, he was human at one time) that Fergus was her brother so she didn’t understand just why the mental image would weird her out,
Anyanka took another drink and rolled her eyes. “Besides,” she continued to Fergus, “you’re one to talk. On the walk through the plaza I saw you listening in on that desperate man trying to stave off his loan shark.”
Fergus just smirked, the wide lips of his current meat suit (a Sicilian mafioso) curling in amusement. “Hey, King of-”
“-Yadda yadda yadda,” Anyanka cut him off before she turned to Lenore. “Is it just me or does he bring up his new title at least twice a day.” She rolled her eyes at him. “You’ve been the bloody king now for twelve years now, junior. Get over yourself.”
“Junior?” he repeated disdainfully.
“I have over half a millennium on you,” she sniffed as she tapped her fingers against the patio table.
Lenore began to tune them out and didn’t hear Fergus’ response. They were usually like this and usually she found it amusing, but not so much today. Something just felt off about everything in general. There was a hole in her heart and she wasn’t quite sure how to fill it. Oh, she tried everything. Saving babies from burning buildings, killing violent criminals, killing monsters…nothing was ever quite enough.
Sometimes she wondered what would have happened had she just stayed at Loki’s. Or stayed with Eli when he asked her not to leave. Or, better yet, what would have happened if she had never left Alaska for Drusilla.
But then she thought - did it even matter? She was rejected from Heaven already, apparently. Clearly her life was damned. In fact, as of late she had started to despise Loki and Kali for making her believe differently so long ago - that she could still be good, that the forces of Good were looking out for her. Lenore should have known that when her former guardian angel Castiel had been ordered to smite her that God had forsaken her. Her years trying to save the souls of her vampire brethren had been for naught. God didn’t want them.
She wondered who did.
“Where do we go when we die?” Lenore asked them rather abruptly.
Clearly in the middle of their argument, they gave her a curious look.
“Well that’s a rather maudlin thought, luv,” Fergus observed.
“I was just wondering. You know, when I almost died after Angelus I saw something…a tunnel leading into the earth. Do we go to Hell?” This thought had been on her mind for years now but she had been too afraid to ask previously.
“No,” Fergus said scornfully. “Hell only deals with human souls. ‘Course, we turn ‘em into demons…” he grinned knowingly.
“Then where?”
Fergus shrugged but Anyanka spoke up. “Don’t be silly. Everyone knows all supernatural creatures go to Purgatory when they die.”
“Purgatory?” they repeated in unison.
“Yeah. You know, not quite Heaven, not quite Hell. All the monsters go there.”
“Interesting,” Fergus mused.
“No matter what? Even if they’re good?” Lenore asked in surprise.
Anyanka let out a snort of derision. “Please. Do you think those jerk angels want some deformed hybrid of a thing sullying up their prime real estate?”
“Well, that’s not fair!” Never mind that it had been exactly what Lenore had feared all these years. Of course, she had to admit that Purgatory was likely better than Hell.
Anyanka shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. All I know,” she grinned suddenly, “is that I’m immortal so I don’t even have to worry about it.”
Lenore made a noise of frustration and signaled her waiter. “I need more to drink.”
A devious smile curled onto Fergus’ features. “Then why are we wasting our time here? Let’s go to the dangerous side of town and find something a bit more…entertaining.”
“Ooh, yes, that sounds fun!” Anyanka clapped her hands.
“Eh.” Lenore shrugged. She didn’t really care one way or another. “Why not?”
Fergus winked. “For your birthday I think I’ll find you the most evil man in this town - someone who’s a combo of all your favorite meals - a rapist, a murderer, and a puppy-kicker.”
Lenore laughed. “I’ve never drank anyone just because they kick puppies…Although if they murder a person and kick puppies, then for sure,” she smirked.
Her brother and Anyanka laughed heartily at the image. Lenore found herself smiling as they made their way to the other end of town, carefully pushing away that little voice she called her conscience.
A/N:
Can I just say that I have the best reviewers in the entire world? It really means a lot how many of you review and how most of you review every chapter. I really appreciate it. It helps to spur the muse to continue writing, plus writing is always more fun when you know someone is enjoying it (although I’m sorry this chapter is not so fun and more-so disturbing. Eep!).
And to Dmitri: That is one of my favorite names of all times so of course I typed that as the Russian vampire’s name. Then I remembered your user name and laughed. Hopefully you don’t mind being a blood thirsty vamp in this story! ;)
Next up: a visit from an old friend!
References
* Hermitage: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hermitage_Museum
*Zaragoza: rumored beginning of Christianity in Spain (and a beautiful city)
*Purgatory: This has not been clearly defined in Supernatural but it is a major part of the Season 6 storyline. This was my take on it.