A Heart Whose Love is Innocent

by Spikeskat

November 2, 1764 

I’m going to Hell.  And, what is worse is that I cannot find it within myself to care.  I do not care what he is.  He is Jared, my soul mate, my other half. After over a fortnight spent in his company, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was whom I was destined to be with. 

My heart soared within the confines of my breast that he felt the same.  I grew worried when he told me he had something of a grave nature to confide in me.  I felt surely he was going to tell me he was betrothed, or equally worrisome, wed.  But, it was nothing of the sort. 

Mother, having resigned herself to Lord Atherton’s suit, allowed me to venture forth with him on various outings, properly chaperoned, of course.  What she failed to realize was that no sooner had he arrived and swept me away from her watchful eyes, that the chaperone she had selected seemed to fall back into the shadows, leaving myself alone with him. 

But, I digress.  I believe I said that I was going to Hell.  And, rightly so.  For I am in love with a demon. 

A vampire, I believe he called himself. 

I care not, for we are meant to be.  I told him so too.  I nearly swooned when he swept me into his embrace and kissed me senseless, apparently overcome with my acceptance of him. 

As if I would do anything less. 

Then he told me the meaning behind my name.  Called me his fate.  See, apparently Renee means “reborn.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

It was the last thing Renee expected to hear.  This girl, who looked so much like her it was uncanny, was actually related to her.  Was the descendent of her dear brother.  Whatever annoyance she’d harbored at Jocelyn for her cloak-and-dagger tactics fell away at the reality of what she’d accomplished… 

The vampiress held out her hand to the girl, which Jocelyn eager took, and sat down next to her on the couch, the two facing towards each other. 

“How did…” Renee trailed off, unsure how – or even what – she wanted to ask. 

Jocelyn sensing the other’s confusion started with her explanation. 

“Well, let’s see…” her voice trailed off for a minute, her hand reluctantly pulled away from the other’s grasp so that she could retrieve a book from the desk across the room.  It was fairly large, the thick leather bindings testament to its age.  Jocelyn carefully lifted the volume and returned to the vampiress’ side, curling next to her to show her what was inside. 

She flipped open the cover and gestured to the family tree. 

“I’m sure you remember Nicholas’s heir, Jason.  I think you were still around England back then, correct?”  Jocelyn glanced up momentarily in her retelling to confirm the other’s nod.  “After having two girls, his youngest – and heir – was born.  Marcus.  In 1850, he married Victoria.  They had their first child two years later.  Daniel.  Daniel married Morganna in 1886, and like his grandfather, had several girls before producing his heir, Thomas in 1895.  Thomas married Kaitlynn, who tried for several years to conceive.  Five years later, Andrew – my father – was born.  But, with the complications Kaitlynn had with the birth, they couldn’t have any more children.  Andrew was forty when he finally married.  See, the family vowed they’d only marry for love, and it wasn’t until he finally locked eyes on Rachael that he found himself hopelessly in love.  They had the usual angst between lovers, at first; Rachael was only twenty, almost half his age.  My father didn’t care, and eventually he got her to agree to marry him.  I was born a years later.” 

She stopped for a moment to see how the vampiress was dealing with their family history.  Renee seemed lost in thought, her eyes glued to the open book as she absorbed its contents. 

“Did you know that the eldest female child in our line was named after you?” Jocelyn asked her softly. 

Renee glanced up at that, unshed tears that refused to fall swimming in her eyes. 

“No,” she whispered.  “After N- Nicholas, I left England.  He…he was all I really had left of my old life, my human life.  I moved first to France with my other family, my vampire family.” 

Jocelyn nodded as if she knew this.  She pointed to the tree again.   

“Renee Marie, born 1780 to Nicholas and Francesca.  Brianna Renee, born 1810, to Jason and Charity.”  

Jocelyn rattled of the others names, more from memory than because she was looking at the book held open in her lap.  She’d spent the last two years learning everything there was to know about her family and Renee.  By the end of the branch, silent tears were falling down the vampiress’ face, so overcome that she’d been remembered by her brother’s line in this way. 

“We couldn’t forget,” Jocelyn spoke softly into the otherwise quiet room.  “Nicholas saw to it that we’d always know about you.  Remember you.  C’mere, I want to show you something.” 

She set the book aside and stood, tugging the somewhat emotional vampire up with her, leading her towards her study.  Inside, Jocelyn led her over to the far wall lined with aged books that had been seemingly neglected until recently.  Her hand reached up and grabbed what was probably the oldest one in the bunch, holding it out for Renee to take.

Watcher’s Diary

Reginald Thomasville

1821-1823 

The vampiress looked from the book in her hands to the human girl standing before her, a silent question in her features. 

“It was Marcus who found out.  Realized there was a Council of Watcher’s that oversaw the Slayer.” 

Renee cringed slightly, but didn’t say anything. 

“He…one of his good friends was apparently training to become a watcher, like his father and grandfather before him.  Let it slip one night while the two were out drinking.  After that, Marcus ingratiated himself into their ranks.  It provided us a means to keep track of you, while allowing us to pilfer anything from their library with any remote mention of your name.”   

Jocelyn gestured to one row on the shelf in front of her.   

“These are all the diaries that have made mention of a raven-haired vampiress named Renee.  Marcus, and later, another member of our family, would keeps tabs on them and remove all trace of your presence from their records.  It helped that the Earl of Hastings was a staunch supporter of their work against the demons of the world.”  Jocelyn snorted as she said this, clearly unimpressed with the machinations of the Council. 

“Anyway…” She took the book out of Renee’s hand and placed it back in the vacant spot on the shelf.  “You can look through these later.  I’ve got a story to finish, don’t I?” 

“Yes,” Renee responded.  More than anything, she wanted to hear the rest of it. 

The two women walked back out into the living area and resumed their seats on the couch. 

“I won’t bore you with everyone else’s story, I’ll just tell you how I came to learn about you.”  At the other’s nod, Jocelyn continued. 

“I was ten when my parents died.  My dad was forty-one when I was born, not the spry young chick.  He and my mom, they’d been touring out of the country, overseeing his vast holdings.  I was away at school at the time.  My father…he…he had a heart attack, killed him instantly. He was driving…drove right off a cliff killing my mum as well.  It just…it was just me and Grandma Kaitlynn, then.  She took me out of school and employed the best tutors.  She didn’t want to lose me too, and I didn’t want to be away from home anymore.  I spent my days learning language, politics, philosophy – anything and everything so that I could take over my father’s holding when I reached my majority.  I had just turned twenty-one when I received word while conducting business in the states that my grandmum had suffered a severe stroke and wasn’t expected to live.  I dropped everything and flew home.  She was in the hospital and looking frail, was unable to talk.  She had some movement in her right hand and was able to scribble down a few words.”  

By now Jocelyn was crying with the retelling.  Her grandmum had been all the family she’d had left, or so she’d thought.  She hadn’t counted the distant relatives that were scattered hither and yon, she’d never met any of them – probably because her grandfather’s sisters had all moved away so that her father didn’t keep in contact with them. 

Jocelyn wiped her eyes and continued with her story. 

“Anyway…she managed to write down, ‘Renee’, ‘attic,’ and ‘not alone’.  Needless to say, I was completely confused.  She managed to circle the word attic before she died.  With all the funeral arrangements, she was the Dowager Countess after all, I’d completely forgotten about the slip of paper I’d tucked into my jewelry box.  After the funeral, I was ready to throw myself into work to drown my misery at being alone.  I’d had my luggage packed and ready to go back to the states, was just going to grab a trinket from my jewelry box, when I noticed the folded piece of paper.  I opened it up, glanced at the few words, and took off running from my room.” 

She glanced up somewhat ruefully, now that she’d gotten over the worst part, the rest of the story seemed to come easy. 

“Did I mention that we had four attics at Hastings Manor?” 

Renee shook her head. 

“Yeah, well, I went through the first two – which took two days, mind – before I found what grandmum had been talking about.  The entire attic was devoted to you.  Watcher’s diaries, clippings, family journals, you name it.  If you were referenced, it was in the room.  It was there I learned all about vampires and demons and watchers and Slayers.  Once I’d gone through everything I could in the attic, I paid a visit to the Watcher’s Council.  Needless to say, they weren’t thrilled that a twenty-one year old girl knew all of their secrets.  Once I informed them that I, as the new Countess of Hastings, was a benefactor of their cause, well…let’s just say, it opened a few doors.  I was taken straightaway to the Head Councilman, a Mr. Travers, arrogant arsehole to be sure.  But, I laid down the ground rules before he even had a chance to speak.  Told him I wanted complete access to his library, wanted to train with the girls he had hidden. In exchange, he’d get the backing of one of the oldest families in England.” 

Jocelyn paused in her story to glance at the huge windows that comprised one wall of her living area.  She’d been talking for several hours now, and Renee had yet to eat. 

“Do you, uh…need to feed?” 

Renee smiled at the girl, so much like herself before she’d been turned – strong, willful, accepting. 

“It’s ok, Jocelyn.  I can wait.  But, I should be getting home now.  It’ll be dawn soon.”  The vampiress moved to stand. 

“Stay here.  Please,” the girl pleaded.  “I just found you.  Won’t you just…stay?” 

The vampiress nodded and settle back into the couch.  She really hadn’t wanted to go, but hadn’t want to impose.  This girl, this human girl that was her last link to her human life, had managed to take away her pain.  Two lost souls had managed to find each other through the tenaciousness of one. 

Jocelyn smiled, a truly radiant smile that lit up her face. 

“So, you had access to the Council’s records.  Then what?” 

“I began looking for references of you…in between training with the girls that might one day be called.  Did you know that there’s even a Slayer handbook?  As if fighting can be scripted so perfectly.  No wonder their Slayers die so young!” 

The two shared a look, both knowing that fighting was anything but a scripted dance.  It took ingenuity, talent, instinct and adaptability – not something you can learn by reading a book. 

“For the next two years, I tracked down every lead, no matter how cold, in my search for you.  I never realized how often vampires moved around.  You’re very nomadic, aren’t you?” 

“The smart ones are.  Basically, I just tried to stay away from the Slayer.  You seem to live longer that way.  Plus, I was turned back when vampires still mingled with humans. We knew how to keep a low profile and still mange to keep our creature comforts.” She winked at the bad pun and then continued.  “A lot’s changed since then.  Although, I think I still manage to blend in pretty well.  I’ve had centuries to handle my demon so I’m not feeding off every human in sight.  Today’s fledglings just don’t have that kind of discipline.  They’re all about the kill.  Stupid, if you ask me.  I don’t prefer to bring notice to myself like that – we aren’t indestructible.  And, with watchers scattered all over the globe, the last thing I want to do is capture their attention.” 

“Tell me what it was like.  I’ve read your diary, but it stops after you got married.” 

“I don’t think…” 

“No, tell me.  I want to know.  I want to know all about you.  Not the biased accounts I’ve read in the Watcher’s Diaries libraries. I want to know what really happened, all of it.  From your perspective.” 

“I…” 

“Please?” 

“Alright.  But, it may take awhile.  I’ve been around for a long time.” 

“That’s ok.  I’ve got nowhere I have to be.  Tell me.”

next

REVIEW ME!!