7

How wearying was it to be followed? It got old so very fast.

Of course this was London, and the streets were so crowded it seemed a bit arrogant to just assume one of the milling, maddening crowd had singled you out. But Ruby had been a Watcher, a government operative, and a werewolf for some time now, and she had honed her instincts to razor sharpness. If she thought she was being followed, she was, and there wasn’t any doubt about it. The problem was there were so many people who might like to do so that it was difficult to narrow down the suspect list, although the fact that it was daytime pretty much eliminated vampires from the equation.

She ducked down the first alley she came to, and waited, leaning against the brick building on her right, tapping her foot in impatience as the minutes began to drag.

Finally, a familiar man tried to turn down the alley, and stopped short upon seeing her, eyes wide in shock. “Ruby,” he exclaimed breathlessly. He was a squat, stout man, dressed in tweed, and normally would have looked somewhat natty, except on a day as overcast and humid as this, she thought he looked slightly damp and uncomfortable, as if the fabric was slowly and inexorably strangling him. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part. “Fancy meeting you here.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, not bothering to hide her disgust. “I know you were following me, Howard. You weren’t exactly made for reconnaissance. So what does the Watcher’s Council want with me?”

He feigned surprise, but he wasn’t very good at it. “I have no idea -”

“Give it a rest, or I’ll knee you in the bollocks.”

His perfectly round face flushed deep crimson. It was a combination of her cursing, and her being deadly serious about it. His thinning grayish brown hair gave him a very prominent forehead, and made his small, far spaced eyes disappear into the shadows beneath his brows. Always an unattractive specimen, Howard Broom went to Eton and was proud of it, which made him all the more repulsive. Although the Council was now in Sydney, and he always disparaged the Australians as “the thin version of Americans”, he went where the authority was, and worked for them now. But they never did send him a ticket to Never-Never, so she assumed they took him on out of pity. After swallowing hard - she watched his Adam’s Apple bob up and down like a cork in a drain - he decided to actually tell her the truth. “They - there’s some concern that you’ve been in contact with Rupert Giles.”

“Is he persona non grata now?”

“What do you mean now? He has been since he was fired for dereliction of duty.”

“Don’t be tedious. Why does the Council think it’s in their best interest to bother me?”

He cleared his throat, tugged at his collar nervously. What was wrong with men nowadays? They all seemed to wilt in front of her like disturbed hothouse flowers. Were they that terrified of strong women? “It’s … uh, we believe he’s been looking into … restricted areas of inquiry. He will need help, and you were deemed the most likely candidate.”

“Out of an entire shocking field of what, about six? With geniuses like you at the Council, I have no idea why the demons are about to overrun the Earth.”

“You like being an obstinate cow, don’t you?” Another voice said from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, not about to show surprise that she had been flanked, yet she was surprised to see Velasquez, wearing all black, like a casual undertaker. He held one hand up in front of himself like a gay toreador, but she knew he was just focusing energy. He was one of the Council’s combat spellcasters, which only made her feel marginally better - he didn’t sneak up on her, he probably just appeared. “You can tell us how much he’s told you and what he’s uncovered, or we can pull it out of you.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. This allowed her to subtly reach for the gun she wore in a shoulder holster beneath her left arm. It was often incredibly uncomfortable, but it did have its moments. “So now the Council attacks its own. Bloody unbelievable. It’s all been downhill since Phan was ousted.”

“Like attacking your own is a new thing!” A voice exclaimed incredulously, but it didn’t belong to either Velasquez or Broom. In fact, the two men appeared to be frozen in place, and a new man appeared behind Velasquez, as if he’d always been there. It was Meldane - or Mordred, whichever - dressed in Armani and a long black duster, his hair now shoulder length and the colour of almonds. He wore sleek sunglasses with sky blue lenses, making her wonder if that was a French thing, or just a pretentious thing. He was smoking a stinky Galois, which made her nose instinctively wrinkle. “You Watchers always made a good sport out of it.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He scoffed. “That’s gratitude for you.”

“I didn’t need your help.”

Although his look was doubtful behind his azure lenses, he glanced at Velasquez, frozen in a moment of gathering hostility, and seemed to study him like he was a fascinating new insect he’d just discovered in his sandwich. “This is what passes for a combat magician, huh? Well, yeah, maybe you didn’t.” He ground out his Galois on Velasquez’s forehead. The skin sizzled and burned, but there was no reaction from Velasquez; he wouldn’t feel it until Mordred unfroze him. But then it’d really hurt. “They really need some lessons on spell combat. Too bad I’m not inclined to give them any.”

“Why are you even here? Why aren’t you in France … doing whatever the bloody hell it is you do there?”

He shrugged. “I’m hiding out from Bob. He has a really scary ex-wife, and I have no idea if she‘s finished with me yet or not, but I‘d rather not find out. And I’ll have you know I protect France; I’ve kept major demonic incursions from occurring within its borders for the past forty three years. Can you Watchers say the same thing about your precious England?”

Deciding to take advantage of the moment, Ruby started searching the frozen Broom’s pockets, just to see if he had anything interesting. “It used to be your precious England too.”

“That was before you people classified me as a threat. What nonsense is that?”

“You scared a lot of people, Meldane … Mordred. Whatever your name is. You’re tied into elemental magic, which is a devastating force at the best of times, and, oh yeah, you were an evil wanker there for a bit, weren’t you?”

“I learned my lesson. Besides, I wasn’t evil, just … misunderstood.”

It was her turn to scoff. “Fuck you and the horse that gave birth to you.”

“It wasn’t a horse!” He protested indignantly.

Broom’s pockets turned up nothing of note, except he seemed to have an addiction to Tums. “But you haven’t really explained why you’re here now. Are you following me, you sick little man?”

That made him laugh. “You wish, you dried up spinster. No, I was attracted to the scent of so many Watchers in one place. I felt like being an asshole. I had no idea you were amongst them, though. So why are they after you? Who did you piss off this time?”

“It’s not me, it’s Rupert. He discovered an old Watcher project called Ascendant, and it seems the Council would rather no outsiders know about it.”

“Why? What’s it do?”

She sighed, and studied him for a moment. A Eurotrash embodiment of magic - how sad was the world when that’s what they were left with? But there was no denying - as much as she wanted to - that he could be a big help. If the Council was determined to send a combat spellcaster after her, Mordred could neuter them completely before they even got into range. He was magic, after all, and if he didn’t want them to have any, they wouldn’t. He was a twat, but he could serve a purpose. “It seems the Council, way back when, decided to try and make their own Human/demon hybrids to supplement Slayers, trying to impart demon essences into people without turning them demon.”

Mordred shook his head, and started searching his pockets for another Galois. “That’d never work.”

“You’d think not, but here’s the thing: one did work. The Watchers killed off all the survivors of the experiment - of which there were few, and they all seemed to fall along the lines of mercy killings anyways - save for one, who got away from them and apparently had children who carried the ability in a more refined state. They changed their names, fled to Europe, and then escaped to the new colonies, where the Watchers officially lost them. But it was assumed, being more than Human, they’d show themselves eventually.”

Mordred looked intrigued by the story. “But they didn’t, did they?”

“No. I just got back from the secret library, where Anna found the humorous side of this. There’s a vampire cult that believes there will be one perfect vessel for their lost vampire king - don’t ask - and it seems the perfect vessel is the Ascendant.”

He smirked and shook his head. “They created their own problem? Brilliant. See why I love you Watchers?”

“It gets better. The Ascendant exists, and there’s every reason to believe that the cult has found him.”

He chuckled, but it seemed rather smug. “Terrific. And rather than hunt him down, they’re going after people who know about their blunder? Bravo. I should drop them a line and express my gratitude for such wonderful entertainment.”

She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out onto the street, taking him with her. Yes, she hated to be in his Galois reeking company longer than necessary, but he was a perfect non-Human shield at this point. “Come on, we have to warn Rupert.”

“We? Since when am I helping you lot out?”

“Since, if you don’t, I’ll tell Bob where to find you.”

He glowered evilly at her, and she could finally see the dark swirl of power in his inky irises beneath the lenses. “That is so not fair,” he said, but gave in with a pout.

Men. They were so easy to manipulate.

******

The long haired vampire glared at them all like they were idiots, “You really have no idea, do you?” He asked. He was staring straight at Kier, so clearly the question was meant for him.

Kier glared right back, and tried to look as pissed off as possible. He hated feeling like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it now. At least he wasn’t alone. “About what you’re saying? No. I’m not even sure you’re speaking English.”

The long haired vamp laughed, but it was humorless and disdainful. “God, you’re an idiot.”

Kier raised the stake menacingly. “You don’t insult the guy holding the weapon, moron.”

He shook his head, sneering at him. “Wasted - all wasted! You’re the moron. How the hell can you be it? Pathetic.”

Logan shook him, just in case he forgot who was holding the claws in his face. “Start making sense or I’m gonna start carving initials into you.”

“Ooh, carve Kevin Federline’s initials into his face,” Marc said cheerfully.

Logan glared at him. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“’Cause he’s a dick too.”

Logan processed this, then shrugged in reluctant agreement. Rags looked between Marc and Logan in a way that said, loud and clear, “Have you both taken your meds, or shall I run off and get them for you?”

Dolph swallowed hard, and said, “You know we’re the Brotherhood of Vestus, yeah?”

“Yeah, Sparky, we got that part,” Logan snapped impatiently.

“So you know we’ve been searching for a vessel for Vestus, our disembodied leader, the greatest vampire that ever existed? The vessel is the Ascendant, and the oracle pointed us to the Davidoviches as the location of our vessel.”

“Who are the Davidoviches?” Marc wondered.

“That’s my last name,” Kier replied, suddenly having a bad feeling about this. “My real last name, at any rate.” The last name the agent advised him to shorten to the “less ethnic” name of David, which was his stage name, but he’d never legally changed it. A cold shock of fear ran through him. “My parents! Holy fuck! Did you - “

“They’re fine,” Dolph insisted. “We had no need to bother them. It was you or Kayla, and after a while it became obvious it couldn’t be her. But then we found out that you were already a vampire, and that … that’s a problem.”

“Whoa, wait, are there cliff notes?” Marc said. “’Cause I’m pretty sure I’m missing some stuff here.”

“I think we all are,” Logan replied. “So he’s the vessel of your vampire king, whatever … and he’s got the wrong vampire in him?”

Dolph shrugged uncomfortably. “Basically.”

“Hold the fucking phone,” Kier snapped. “How the hell am I a vessel?”

The hesher vamp continued to eye him with contempt. “You never realized you were different?”

Kier almost laughed, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I was the only out gay boy in my entire high school. I’ve felt different all my life, jackass.”

The long haired vampire’s eyes went wide with horror. “You’re gay?”

Marc crowded closer in a menacing way, and only then did Kier notice he had one of his gloves off. None of the vampires probably knew what a threat that was, and wouldn‘t until he grabbed them and dug in his fingernails. “You got a problem with that, ass clown?”

The vamp stared at him, and he seemed to understand that if he said he did have a problem with it, Marc would make him very sorry for it. Perhaps he remembered his comment about meeting a cute guy by the fountain, and also remembered he‘d just shot all of his followers in the head with the high powered rifle he still wore on his back. You had to be a special kind of stupid to piss off Marc. There were times and places to piss off gay guys, but this was obviously not one of them, not unless you were a masochist with a death wish. And while Kier was sure this vamp was a sadist, he apparently didn‘t like getting pain inflicted on himself; he preferred dishing it out. “No, it’s just … unexpected.”

“Is this why he’s different from most vamps?” Logan asked, pulling the topic back to the most important point. “Because he’s the Ascendant?”

The long haired vamp flashed Logan a look that was a few degrees shy of grateful. “Of course. He was made to be a vampire.”

“Say what?” Kier wondered if this was what Alice felt like when she fell down the rabbit hole. Okay, she’d been a fictional person, but that wasn’t really the point.

The hesher looked him square in the eye, and he found his sudden intensity unsettling. “You were bred to be a vampire, idiot. We just didn’t expect that you’d be grabbed by some slut who didn’t know perfection when she saw it.”

Okay, yeah, this wasn’t making any sense at all. “How do you breed a Human to be a vampire?”

But after he asked the question, he wondered if he really wanted to know.

****

Taking out the nest of vampires was much easier than even Giles thought. So easy, in fact, he almost wondered if it was a set up.

They were in and out in five minutes. Even Xander got a couple of dustings in, but the entire nest seemed a little logy from having fed so well recently. Apparently a new busload of kids from Iowa had just come in a few hours earlier, and the vamps had gorged themselves like gluttons. He was sorry they hadn’t arrived earlier.

He wasn’t the only one slightly unnerved by this development. Angel seemed unusually broody on their way back, and finally asked him, “Do you think that Wolfram and Hart is still toying with us?”

Giles considered that carefully. You’d have hoped they’d learned their lesson and backed off, but they didn’t seem to learn anything ever. But that was the thing about evil groups - they wouldn’t be evil if they knew when to quit; in that case, they’d just be annoying. Finally, he said, “I’m sure they’re not done with us, but I don’t think this is their style.”

“Yeah, they’re more orange leisure suits,” Xander offered, his axe hefted to his shoulder as casually as a baseball bat. When they all stared at him, he explained, “Loud, garish. You know, obvious. I can’t believe you guys didn’t get that.”

“I think it’s you we don’t get,” Bren replied.

“Nobody gets me; I’m the wind, baby.”

“That’s a Mystery Science Theater 3000 quote!” Naomi exclaimed . “Did you steal that leisure suit line too?”

“I didn’t steal anything!” he protested. “It’s called making a pop culture reference. Jeeze, Dyna-Girl, get with the times. Hey, has the internet reached Canada yet?”

“Can we please get back to the important subject?” Angel asked, a peevish tone in his voice. He hadn’t really learned to tolerate Xander’s outbursts any more than he had back in Sunnydale, but Giles felt he had no room to criticize, as he hadn’t exactly grown more tolerant either. He was an adult now, he assumed he’d have grown out of that, but no, Xander was apparently going to be like this for the rest of his life. Which was a deeply frightening thought. Angel looked at him, but he was more serious than annoyed. “Nothing is beneath or above Wolfram and Hart. They’ll do what they have to do to get to us.”

Giles nodded reluctantly, “Still, as a nest, they were poorly organized at best. I’d have expected something more impressive in the way of opposition.”

Xander, who was leading the way back to the office, suddenly stopped, and Bren almost ran into his back. “Hey, what’s the deal?”

Xander didn’t respond to that, he simply pointed down the street. “Impressive like that?” He wondered warily.

Giles looked past his shoulder, just in time to see that a dark, hooded figure was standing in front of the building, and it raised its hand, which was aglow with supernatural red energy, as strong and bright as any flame. “Yes, that’s more like it,” he agreed, as the sizzling bolt of energy was thrown directly at them.