techno_pagan

Who:Jenny and Giles
What:Breakfast
When:Morning
Where:Giles’ apartment

The ebony haired gypsy stretched lazily in the bed; laying there she had to force herself to get up. The smell of fresh bacon and coffee wafted into the guest room. Everyday she’d made him breakfast as a way to thank him. Since her return Jenny suffered from the occasional migraine has she had the night before. Worried, Giles called a physician friend who met them at the hospital. A shot of Demerol lulling Jenny to sleep, waking a few hours later; unfortunately still a bit high from the shot.

Defenses down, she was a bit more demonstrative with her actions. As they talked her hand would brush against his, relaxed her inhibitions were down. Aware enough to not cross a line, she found herself flirting, for her; it hadn’t been long at all since she’d told him she loved him. For him, it had been a lifetime; additionally Jenny had not aged, where Giles had. Still ruggedly handsome, Jenny resembled a trophy wife, the looks of admiration were lost on Jenny, if Giles noticed; he remained silent.

She’d fallen asleep against his shoulder, she smiled a little that he put her in the bed. Immediately she wondered how heavy she was.

Oh the smells from the kitchen called her downstairs.

Padding across the floor on bare feet, Jenny called to Giles. “England something smells delicious,” she complimented him as she entered the kitchen. “I don’t think you’ve ever cooked for me before,” and it was true, they’d never really dated like a normal couple. But then normal didn’t describe them, not that it ever did.

“About last night,” she began ....

One moment, nothing and the next, she was flying back a few feet, falling with a loud ‘thump,’ blinking in rapid succession, Jenny attempted to figure out where she was.

She was Janna of the Kalderash.

Her back hurt, she got up on both forearms just to raise her head, then the pounding of her head, harder and harder. The paramedics were there before Jenny realized any time passed. All she could mutter: “Rupert,” then a few moans a word sounding like ‘angel’.

As she sank back to the abyss or unconsciousness, her last memory flashed before her eyes, then quietly without ceremony, she passed out.

Shins bleeding, long thin rivers of blood trailing down my legs, my feet cut on the rocky road I’d taken as if by rote, my body turning slightly blue as the cold belly of night draped around me, undaunted by the tingling pain that was prickling my body, something kept me pushing forward. How long did I walk? I don’t know. I had no way to measure time, and as I walked, with every step I concentrated not on my destination, but on calming my panicked brain. At first, I counted my steps, so I could count. Soon it grew wearisome, and as my body ached to stop, I kept on like a salmon coming back to its birth waters to spawn. If a salmon could do it, then surely I could. There were things in the night, things

As I walked my heart began to race, my imagination running wild. Parched, I would have, at that moment given anything for cold, clear water. Instinct my own innate desire for self-preservation kept me going. My feet would not take the brutality of the road much longer, and my body although warmed by walking, was in a losing battle against the cold and the drain on my seemingly frail system.

In the distance, a soft glow, my eyes now on the prize. All I had to do was get to the light. On the continually cooling wind, the soft strains of violins met me, welcoming me. The low sounds of laughter accompanied the violins in a happy song of days gone by. For a moment, I stopped, frozen and afraid, I stood there and standing I began to shiver harder, my head hammering my entire body working toward a mutiny against me. The steam from my breath danced its way toward heaven. The stars above twinkled as if to say everything would be all right. But that wasn’t reassuring. Taking one final long breath, I awkwardly made my way toward the people I knew to be just yards ahead. I’d faced worse in my lifetime, how I knew that I was uncertain, I didn’t even know my name, but that I felt was true, yet moving forward from the oblivion that lay behind me to the life in front of me terrified me. I was lost and yet, I felt strangely at home.

An eternity seemed to pass as I stood just outside their circle, once they knew I was there, it was as silent as a tomb. The men stood, the women took their children into their arms. I guess I would be afraid if a naked bleeding women came walking into my camp. Then they began talking and shouting. and then the insults, “Drac, vrăjitoare, rău; nenorocire, demon, those words repeated over and over, interspersed with a more desperate.

I began swaying where I stood, as I lifted my hand they took a step backward, and then came a hateful, “Cadavru!” They were calling me a corpse!


“England,” was all I could think of to say, as my eyes fluttered closed, my body felt as if it were spinning, flying away to some safe cloud, instead it fell into a crumpled heap on the ground.

That was how it began, something brought me back beyond the veil of death, the security of a closed peaceful coffin, from blissful sleep were thoughts could not creep.

Rejected by the clan, a clan I’d served beyond question, a family bent on vengeance that I’d put ahead of everything, including my own happiness.

Nothing felt safe, nothing right, I felt nothing.

Roaming London, I realized it was all in a vain attempt to connect with Rupert. Wasn’t that what he was referring to in the book I’d borrowed oh so long ago, I had to laugh, at least I’d been able to return it.

It had taken me forever to trace him, more so out of fear than difficulty. I’d written many letters. I’m sure he was skeptical. Finally, I told him I was coming.

There was nothing left for me, I knew he’d gone on. I’d had months now to prepare myself. If anyone could get to the bottom of things it would be Rupert Giles. There had to be a reason, at least that’s what I told myself.