Although Jack is a fit, rather tall man, he’s no match for Alexandre. It’s been an hour since the awful moment. Jack could be dead. I contacted Annie, and she’s on her way. Luckily for me, Annie is more loyal to me than Alexandre.
I wandered around the streets, trying to guess where they may have gone, but to no avail, and I’m not surprised. If Alexandre doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.
When Annie rushes through the door, I am in a state of utter panic. All thoughts of past lives and Julien, are gone. My thoughts are only of Jack. I can’t lose him. Annie sits down, while I tell her what happened and what I learned. She is stunned into silence.
“I always knew he carried a torch for you, I thought that was a no-brainer. But, that he killed Julien, I just can’t believe it. Mills, I’m so sorry. Surely, Jack…,” she is trying to be tactful.
“I don’t know. I think I would feel it if he were dead. Either that, or Alexandre would return and throw it in my face.”
“I can’t believe we are talking about the same Alexandre. This is crazy.”
“I’ve never seen him like that, Annie. He was insane. But, maybe I was able to get through to him a little, by the end. He was crying and seemed broken.”
“Woah. Don’t hate me, but I almost feel a little bad for him.” Annie bites her lip, looking down.
“For Alexandre? He’s a murderer and a liar.”
“I know, I know. What he did was unforgivable and sick, but it was done out of love.”
“Let’s just stick with unforgivable and sick. You don’t do those things to someone you love.”
Annie hugs me. We try to brainstorm how we can find Jack. I had, of course, attempted to call and text Alexandre, on the off chance he would answer. But, of course, he didn’t.
We decide to split up, doing a good old-fashioned canvas of the neighborhood, assuming Alexandre is still nearby. It seems safe to assume he is in the area with two hours to go until sunrise.
Annie and I head out, although neither of us is optimistic. I am opening my thoughts to Alexandre, but Annie isn’t. We decide to keep her involvement under wraps until we find them, thus retaining an element of surprise. Annie is the spy, more experienced in these scenarios than I am. So, with my mind calling out to my maker, I scour my agreed upon area.
As I begin to get more desperate, I beg and plead with him. I am broadcasting thoughts of friendship, love, forgiveness, and innocence. I actually have little faith he will do the right thing, but I will crumble if I lose hope completely in this mad situation.
The streets of historic Savannah are dead at four a.m. In my current mood, who knows what would happen to anyone getting in my way. It’s hypocritical thinking since I am hoping against hope Alexandre will not take the innocent life of Jack but give me a break. It’s been a rough night.
When we reach the end of our areas, Annie and I are supposed to meet up in the middle of Chippewa Square. I am the first to arrive, with a half hour until sunrise. Very soon thereafter, I spot Annie coming down Bull Street. She looks at me, purses her lips, and shakes her head, telling me everything I need to know.
This is it. It is over. Jack is dead, he must be. Why would Alexandre keep him alive and not contact me? I honestly feel numb. I know the grief will come and I will deal with it, but not right now. I simply cannot. I’m running on autopilot.
Annie takes my hand, without saying a word, we turn toward home. I probably shouldn’t feel safe, returning to the home I shared with Alexandre, but I do, at least for now. He is a slave to the dawn as much as I am, and so, he will also be closing his eyes for the coming daylight hours.
We cut it close, just closing the door on the rising sun. For a moment, I have a thought to remain in the street, meeting the sun head on. I hesitate on the porch, looking behind me. Annie pulls me inside. “Don’t you even think about it.”
“Too late.”
“That’s the coward’s way out, Mills. You are no coward. We will take on Alexandre, another day.”
She says nothing about saving Jack. She’s thinking the same thing I am. Jack is dead. Two loves with the same face, dead. What are the chances I will get a third shot? Probably, not stellar. Annie doesn’t let go of my hand until we are in my room. She lets me go to pull back the covers, then gently pushes me in. I can smell Jack on the sheets, I want to get up, but the sun is rising, my eyelids fall. Annie covers me up, walks around to the other side of the bed then crawls in next to me. Thank goodness for this woman, Miss Rebel. I close my eyes, everything goes blissfully black.
When I wake, I’m a little startled because my face is wet. I wipe my hand across my face and look down at my red hands. I realize I have been crying tears of blood while I slept. I think about showering and changing, but then ask myself, why bother? Annie comes in with a glass full of blood, putting it in my hands. It’s pleasantly warm.
“I got an order to go, drink up.” She just can’t help herself.
I do as I’m told, realizing I am just about dying of hunger. The glass is a large one, but I drain it in two gulps. Annie disappears into the bathroom, then comes back out with a damp washcloth. She wipes off my face like I’m a child.
“If you haven’t noticed the bedding, most of it should be tossed.” I look around me, it looks like someone has been stabbed to death in my bed.
“Jesus, Annie. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“I know, no biggie. Go grab a shower, while I strip the sheets. We can talk about our next step when you get out.”
It feels good to be told what to do. I don’t care to make any decisions, so I’ll gladly let Annie drive. She’s good people, or vampire, or whatever the hell.
Showering holds no interest for me, so I opt to wash my face and change. By the time I step back into my bedroom, the crime scene of my bed has been disposed of, replaced with clean linen.
“Well, love, what now?” Annie asks, simply.
“He must be…,” I stop, unable to finish.
“Yeah. We should leave Savannah. Any place you want to explore?”
“No, not particularly.” I slump myself into the chair.
“Ok, I get to choose. If it ever does come to a fight, we will need to rest up for a while.”
“Would you truly join me in a fight against Alexandre, Annie? He’s your maker, too. It’s asking a lot.”
“I’ve never been particularly close with Alexandre, not like I have been with you. I was his consolation prize, after you went traipsing off for a while. I was always too independent, too rebellious for his taste.”
“Yes, he likes them submissive, doesn’t he? And, you’ve always suited my taste, just fine. You’re amazing.”
I smile at her, this woman who has been my companion, friend, sister, and ally. She is remarkable, I would gladly die beside her.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” I say.
We pack quickly, only what we need, and the few items which are special to us. Marie Antoinette’s bracelet, carefully wrapped, goes in the front, zippered pocket of my backpack. I take my portrait off the wall and set it against the fireplace. I stand back, regarding it. A large painting in a fragile, antique frame won’t be easy to flee with. Do I need it, or even want it? This portrait has kept me tied to the past, tied to a yearning for an impossible love.
Julien is long gone, and this picture only incites a despairing sadness. Julien, although I will never forget him, has been replaced in my heart by Jack. Jack is, or was, his own unique, special self. He may now be gone, but he is the one I will carry in my heart until I am finished. There will be no one else, ever. I’m also ready to move on from who the woman in the portrait was. I don’t want to know her, anymore. I won’t be weak, and easily lead, any longer. I hang the portrait back in its place over the mantle and draw the curtains back over the face of a woman who is becoming a stranger to me.
Annie and I meet up in the living room, and I take one more look around.
“I have no idea if I’ll ever be back. I’ll miss Savannah, but not this house.”
My love for this mysterious city will never end, but this house is as dead to me, as the past. Suddenly, my phone alerts me that I have a text, and it’s from Alexandre.