Date: Mon, 19 Feb 1996 11:13:09 -0400 From: "L.D. Steele" Subject: Pardon me, but... I really shouldn't be typing... so I'm going to make this as short as possible. :) Pardon me, but... By: Dawn Steele h36a@unb.ca or aa300@fan.nb.ca There was blood in her mouth. Janette swallowed reflexively. It was human... and tasted wonderful. She could feel her eyes start to burn as they shifted to nightsight. There was an arm around her, supportive and gentle. The sheets moved underneath her; slippery silk. "I know you're awake." A familiar voice, but... something was missing. Janette opened her eyes. She was lying in Nick's loft. "LaCroix." "Yes." He moved her around to face him. "You're back." He handed her the rest of the bottle and watched as she quickly finished it off. "How could he... I asked him not to." Her eyes started to burn in another fashion, as tears slipped down her face. "We all choose our fate." LaCroix released her, and moved away from the bed. "You could have refused his gift." Janette didn't reply. She threw off the covers, almost tripping over the edge of the bloodstained skirt she was still wearing. Her muscles, still adjusting to the change, felt strong but uncoordinated. Strong? "I'm a fledgeling again. Merde!" "You'll have to be more careful that you're used to." He casually threw another bottle across the room, and watch Janette snatch it gracefully out of the air. "Just remember; experience counts." Janette stopped herself after consuming half of the bottle. She had other matters to tend to tonight. "I'll be leaving." She tried to grasp it, the connection that had bound her to him for so long. Nothing. Nothing, but a weak thread that she knew Nick would never bother to strengthen. She stretched, watching LaCroix the whole time. A vampire again. Janette no longer knew what the future held. She had had a chance to be free. Free with her life, her emotions... and her love. It had been torn away, but she'd then she had seen other futures. A son, a life in the daylight, and now? Now she was trapped again. But also free in a way she'd lever been before. "I'm leaving," she repeated. Janette tasted the words on her tongue. Statements instead of questioning tones. Her voice, when she continued, had a wry, almost challenging tone. "Pardon me, but I've got someone to kill." ---------------- A beginning. There. I'm one of those in the "Janette is alive" camp. I'd write more, but... I'm not supposed to.