Old City Sanctuary – Infirmary
Wena sat in silence as Helen moved through the infirmary with quiet efficiency, readying what she would need to take the samples she required. Although she appeared outwardly calm and indifferent, the abnormal's silence worried her a little. She knew that the succubus and the London Head of House had a connection, and that something had happened at the airport which had strained their relationship. Declan had been unwilling to discuss it and Helen wasn't about to push him on the matter, knowing as she did his full, and sometimes dark, history.
"Wena, I'm going to take a little blood, OK?" Helen asked, coming to stand in front of the succubus. When no answer was forthcoming, she reached out and gently took hold of Wena's forearm, slipping a tourniquet above the elbow and tying it tightly. As she moved the needle towards the vein, Wena slowly looked up at her and Helen baulked, quickly clamping down on the rush of compassion that welled up inside her. Looking into Wena's eyes, Helen saw pain and suffering, the likes of which could not have been caused solely by Declan's actions. Anger simmered beneath the surface, but the look of desolation and resignation overrode everything else, and Helen felt her heart contract in sympathy. It was obvious now that the woman sat before her had spent years suffering; perhaps being used for her powers, or abused because of them. Even though things were difficult for them now, without the support of world governments and intelligence agencies, Helen vowed that she would not let Wena be used any longer.
"I'm just going to draw this blood, and then we'll get you settled into more permanent accommodation," Helen said softly, a gentle smile on her face. Wena nodded, her eyes dead and her shoulders slumped in defeat as she stared at the floor once more. Helen quickly and efficiently drew the blood she needed for her tests. She raised an eyebrow in surprise as she turned back to place a plaster over the puncture wound, only to discover that the area had completely healed.
"Right, let's get you settled shall we?" Helen suggested, her voice bright and happy as she tried to cheer up the succubus. Wena moved slowly off the hospital bed she had been sat on, following along behind as Helen led her towards the residences where she would be given her permanent lodgings.
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London Sanctuary – Declan's bedroom
The early morning sunlight streamed in through a gap in the heavy brocade curtains, gently caressing Declan's face and slowly rousing him from a deep and dream filled sleep. Thoughts of Wena still filled his mind, the feel of her fingers stroking his face as clear as if she were there with him. The pain in his chest increased as his mind replayed their last moments together, tears welling in his eyes as he realised once more what he had lost. His flight home had touched down in the middle of the night, and dawn had been fast approaching by the time he made it back to the sanctuary. No matter how hard he tried, he could not rid his mind of the look of betrayal on Wena's face when they had boarded the aircraft.
He forced himself to rise from the comfort of his bed, his limbs heavy from a mixture of exhaustion and sorrow. He dressed slowly, splashing cold water on his face more to wake himself than to wash. He had a lot to catch up on, for even though he knew his staff were more than capable of running the London sanctuary in his absence, there were things that only he could manage. With a sigh, and a heavy heart, he left his room and headed towards his office, wanting to see the security feed from the Old City sanctuary. He was so preoccupied, he didn't see the envelope on the floor near the door, half hidden in shadow.
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Old City Sanctuary – Will's Office
Dr. Will Zimmerman sat quietly in his office, watching the newcomer as she paced around the room. Her movements had a feline grace to them, powerful and edgy, and Will was reminded of a panther caged in a zoo. He knew that Wena did not want to be there, and that she felt betrayed by Declan McCrae. As a psychologist, he also understood that her feelings of betrayal stemmed in part from the romantic feelings she had for Declan. Now all he had to do was get her to talk; to open up about her connection to Declan, her past and the danger she believed herself to be in. He knew that Declan would almost certainly be watching the feed, but that would not stop him from asking the questions he had to ask, in order to get his answers.
"Wena, why don't you take a seat?" Will suggested. He watched her closely as she stopped pacing and turned to look at him, her body frozen like a cat waiting to pounce on its prey. Only his years of training stopped him from reacting as her eyes bored into him, making him wonder if she could indeed look into his very soul. Her eyes showed wisdom and pain far beyond her years, and it took all of his willpower not to speculate about what she had seen, or what she had been through. They remained in their frozen tableau for several minutes, as he waited for her to relax enough to be able to start building trust between them.
He hid a smile when she eventually moved, slipping cautiously into the comfortable leather armchair opposite him. As she drew her legs up against her chest, rested her chin on her knees and watched him warily, Will noticed that she was barefoot. Now that she had stopped pacing, he could clearly make out the bruises that covered her forearms. Faint beneath them, but clearly visible to his super observant eyes, lay the scars. Made by claw, teeth and knife, they criss-crossed her arms, hands and feet; layer upon layer of assault and abuse. For the briefest moment, he wondered if perhaps he was out of his depth, but knew that Helen would not have given him this task if she did not believe he could do it. He sat quietly, waiting patiently for her to start talking, knowing that she had to take the first step before they could begin.
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London Sanctuary - Declan's Office
Declan McCrae, former SAS soldier and head of the London sanctuary, sat in his office and stared at his laptop screen, fighting back the tears. He watched as Will began to coax Wena out of her shell, getting her to start talking about what she had been through. It had taken him 3 hours before she had said her first word, and it had nearly broken Declan's heart that the first word she said was his name. The emotion in that single word had brought tears to Declan's eyes, and he knew with a clarity he had never before experienced that he had made a mistake by allowing her to leave. Gradually Will had managed to coax her into elaborating and she slowly began to share the information that Helen and her team would need to know. He learned that Wena was nearly one hundred and fifty years old, and that she had seen much during her lifetime. From wealthy noblewoman to slave, governess to Madame of a Wild West brothel, she had experienced life from all angles.
By the time Wena and Will finished talking for the day, night had long since fallen over London. As he tried to process everything he had seen and heard, Declan stretched to relieve aching muscles held in one position for far too long. Glancing at the clock, he was not surprised at the late hour displayed and decided that a good night's sleep was in order. Closing his laptop he stood and slowly left his office, lost in thought as he ambled back to his bedroom. Entering the room, he closed the door behind him and flicked on the light, noticing at last the envelope on the floor. He bent down and picked it up, drawing in a sharp breath as he turned it over and saw his name written on the front, instantly recognizing the handwriting. Stripping off his clothes, he left them in an untidy heap as he slid into bed, pulling the covers up around him and turning out the main light. Lighting the candle which sat beside his bed, Declan broke the seal and gingerly removed a single sheet of parchment from the envelope. Unfolding it he lay down and began to read:
Declan,
I'll be leaving soon, exiled to Old City and banished from your presence. In some ways I do understand why you're sending me away, but that doesn't make the parting any easier to bear. I reached out to you because we have had a connection since the day you were born, I saved your life that day, after all. I've lost count of the number of times I've saved your life over the years, safe in the knowledge that when I needed you, you would save mine too.
I know you Declan, I know your deepest darkest secrets and I've kept them for you. I know that you're a good man, which is why I didn't fear you when you rescued me from the shape shifters. I know I shouldn't have pushed you when we got back here, but I've loved you for so long that no other thought occupied my mind than being in your embrace.
By the time you read this, I'll be several thousand miles away and out of your life forever. Distance enough perhaps, for me to tell the truth that I kept hidden from you when you rebuffed me. You cannot hurt me, physically, in the way that you hurt Claire. Unlike human women, who are so fragile in so many ways, neither your size nor any loss of control on your part could hurt me if we had taken the next step into a sexual encounter.
Be well, Declan. I hope that when the time comes, you do not blame yourself for what happens.
I Love you Declan. I always have. Remember that, after I'm gone.
Wena xx
Tears flowed as Declan held the parchment tightly to his chest, the full realisation of what he had lost hitting him like a bomb blast. For years he had avoided getting into a relationship with anyone, for fear of hurting them physically, as he had inadvertently done with Claire. And now, after sending her away, he realised that in Wena he had found the one woman with whom he would not have had to worry about such things. He curled himself into a ball, sobbing as he released the pain and anguish he felt, eventually drifting off into a troubled sleep, filled with visions of Wena's death.