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summer_of_giles2011-07-08 06:48 pm
Fic: Magister (NC17) Ch. 8
Warnings: Murder. A scary child. More flashback. And bad British accents...
8. Conversations
Pulling on a pair of jeans, Magister glanced over at the heap of flesh sleeping contentedly on his bed. The three entangled bodies, all happy, all sated, and he… he was hungry. He threw a shirt around his shoulders and stepped out into the corridor.
With a glance down the hallway, he received a nod from the guards. Silent assurance that all was well with Willow. Beautiful Willow. He could smell her even from there. He could envision her curled up in a chair, surrounded by books, studying diligently to meet his challenge. He could see her sweet smile as she whispers something to… him. Why do they all cling to him? He was nothing now, could do nothing for them, was not even worth being around to be ignored anymore. It was maddening.
Magister felt the anger building in him again. Before he knew it, he had taken a step toward her door. His craving for her like nothing he had ever known. Halting himself, he took a deep breath out of habit. This was not the time, not the way. Besides, he was hungry.
Turning around, he headed for the stairs. He knew the elevators would take him down the seven floors faster, but he had to keep moving. The agitation that had built up in him was driving him crazy. At least the building was quiet at this time of day and he could move around without being bothered. He could walk the halls without having to be what everyone expected of him.
“Is something wrong? You look upset.”
Magister sighed. “What are you doing lurking in the stairwell in the middle of the afternoon, Justin? You should be sleeping like the others.”
“As should you,” the young man grinned. He came along side his master and they continued to descend together. “I sometimes run the stairs when it’s quiet like this. It helps me order my thoughts. I used to run outside, but that would be bad for my health these days.” The joke earned a chuckle and he smiled.
“So, what thoughts are troubling you that have pulled you from your bed today?”
“I feel the need to apologize. The mistake that was made during last night’s mission was inexcusable.”
“A learning experience,” the Teacher smiled. “Don’t tell the others, but we are none of us perfect.”
Justin laughed, “I promise not to give your secret away.”
They let another floor pass in silence before Magister sighed again. “So, are you going to tell me what’s really on your mind?” His protégé frowned. “I chose you because I know you. You are not like the others. You know better than to let a tiny mishap be something to dwell on.”
“I should also know better than to think I can hide my worries from you.”
“You don’t understand,” his master prompted.
“I don’t. I mean, our numbers grow every day. Your own power gives us strength beyond imagining. We could take this city before anyone would know it.”
“So, why do I spend my time focused on a small group that has no hope of stopping us?”
Justin brushed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t mean to question. I understand the need to retrieve the soul before it could be used against you, and I understand taking the witch. But you had both Slayers in your grasp last night and you let them live.”
“Never fear questioning me, Justin. There may come a time when my private vengeances may compromise us and I’ll need you to advise me accordingly. But, for now, trust me when I say the Slayers and their people are of no threat to us, and will be more useful alive.”
“I do. And I intend to figure out your thinking before you have to spell it out to me. Just give me a little more time.”
Magister smiled at his enthusiasm. “I’m sure you’ll have it in no time.”
“Now, would you like to tell me why you’re roaming the halls when you need your rest?”
“I’m hungry,” was the only answer Magister would growl.
Justin nodded, though he knew there was more. “I believe we have some leftovers in the lounge.”
***
Ethan sat in the lotus position and finished his chant before opening his eyes to blow the fine sand over the map set inside the sacred circle. He, Wesley, and the two Slayers watched as the sands spread and began to glow in one specific spot. Then another speck began to glow, then another, and another…
Wesley whipped his glasses off and looked up at the Slayers. “I’m…Ah… He did the spell perfectly to my knowledge. There should only be one indicator.”
Ethan began to chuckle, “That’s my clever boy.” He glanced up to see Buffy’s eyes on him with the distinct look that she wanted to hit something. “I did do it correctly,” he huffed. “Ripper was sure to know that you would try to find him magically at some point. It looks like he put a Refractor ward on the vessel. It creates reflections of his soul throughout the area.” He hid another smile as the Slayer groaned. “One good thing we can derive from this. We can tell the soul is still intact somewhere.”
“Perhaps,” Wesley bent, marking all the possibilities on the map before the magick faded, “we can find a way to break through this spell. At least eliminate enough of these false readings to give us a chance to search what remains.”
“It is possible. But I will have to spend more time in meditation. I’ll need to search out with my own power and try to discern the precise spell he’s using.”
“Fine,” Buffy sighed. “In the meantime, we’ll start scouting these places for any trace of him.”
Ethan stood and stretched his long body. “Then we have a plan. Now, if I’m not needed, could someone please show me to my quarters? This prison issue garb truly does nothing for my complexion. And you cannot imagine how much I’ve been looking forward to taking a shower without someone with a tail staring at me.”
“Man, believe me when I tell you I know exactly where your coming from,” Faith laughed. “I’ll show him his room. And I’ll make a run to get some new threads.” She cocked her head, staring at the man. “I think I can put together a style that’ll look good on this guy.”
The sorcerer grinned, “I put myself completely in your hands, My Dear.”
“Ethan,” Buffy groaned in disgust as he began to follow the dark Slayer, “put it back on.”
“I must have forgotten.” His midnight eyes sparkled with mischief. “However, I am a bit concerned. What if Ripper finds out you’ve called on me? If he comes after me as he did your little witch friend, how am I to defend myself?”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust us to take care of you. You have a lot to make up for before you can expect me to give you any consideration.”
“Then my life is in your lovely hands and I resign myself to it,” he sighed, letting the bracelet wrap again around his wrist. With a parting wink, he followed Faith out of Willow’s room.
“Buffy,” Wesley stood and came up behind her. “I don’t know if you’re aware of my complete…um… history with Faith, but I want you to know I’m trying to be logical as I say this. She worries me, and I don’t know how much we should trust her to go out alone anymore. Especially, after what Gi… Magister said to her.”
“We all have history with Faith, Wes. He’s playing on our weaknesses, trying to divide us more than we already are. It seems like Faith is trying to make good right now. With everything else we have to worry about, I say we let her try.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll be ready to baby sit our magician friend when he’s rested enough to start his meditations. In the mean time, I thought I might hit the books and see if there’s anything in prophecy that could be of use to us.”
***
The doors to the lounge swung open and humans scampered, trying to hide behind anything they could find. It was a large room with tasteful décor. A huge fireplace was set into one wall and the outside wall was lined with windows that stretched from ceiling to floor, all now boarded and painted to keep out the sun. Even so, the lighting made the space bright and homey, and there were plush chairs and sofas to accommodate all. Just off the room were two restroom facilities, making it a comfortable prison, as prisons go.
“Have they been tended to?” Magister asked the guard as he entered.
“Yes, Sir. Food was sent from the kitchen a short time ago.”
“Very good,” he mumbled, scanning the prey.
Justin looked absently over the choices. “With everything on your mind, it amazes me that you pay so much attention to these lowly creatures. It would be easier to just chain them in the basement.”
“We mustn’t be uncivilized. Even the beasts of the field are tended to before they are led to slaughter. Remember, Justin, a world for our kind still requires plenty of humans. What is a hunter without his prey?”
They watched as a small girl of no more than seven skipped up to them from the back of the room. Her strawberry blond curls fell to the middle of her back, and she looked up at them with eyes the color of a pale sea on a clear day.
“They won’t play with me,” she pouted to the two tall vampires. “Will you play with me?”
Magister squatted to meet her at eye level and tenderly ran his fingers through her full hair. “You are lovely, Tiny One. You shouldn’t let sadness darken that pretty face.”
“Why won’t they play with me?”
“Because they are afraid of us. They can’t help it,” he answered tenderly.
A puzzled look crossed her face. “Should I be afraid of you? Why are they so scared?”
“It is their nature. They are aware of their mortally. Their instincts are telling them to flee from the perceived predator.”
“But I only want to play,” the girl swayed and flashed him a sweet smile.
“I know, My Child,” he smiled back. “Tell you what… Which one would you like to play with?”
The girl turned around and scanned the room. She finally pointed to a thin, sandy-haired man ducking behind an overstuffed chair. Before he could blink, Magister was lifting him out of hiding by his throat.
“Please, please not me,” he begged, clawing at the vampire’s forearm. “I don’t want to…” His eyes shifted to the girl standing beside his captor. “Please, Robyn, tell him to let me go.”
Magister smiled down at the girl. “Robyn. That’s a beautiful name. It suits you. This one seems to know you.”
“Yes,” she cocked her head at the man now pinned against the wall in the vampire’s powerful grip. “I think I once called him Daddy.”
“In that case, I shall let you determine his fate. We could let him go as he asks. Or, if you like, we can make him like us and you can have him with you always.”
The child took on a thoughtful expression for a long while. “He would be of no real use to you, Master. He is nothing but food.”
The prisoner cried out his horror as Magister stroked the girl’s head affectionately. “Very well, would you like to share him with me?”
Two demon faces looked back at the miserable man. He shook with fear and he lost all control over his body’s functions. “I can smell his feelings. It smells so good my tummy hurts.”
“Can you hear his heart drum? Can you sense the blood flowing through the arteries beneath his skin?”
“Yes, I can hear it rushing by.”
“Where do you think you should bite him?” Magister continued to instruct.
“I want to bite him here,” Robyn growled as she tore the trouser fabric from his thigh and sank her fangs into his femoral artery.
Magister leaned in as his prey choked on screams of pain. “Don’t worry,” the vampire whispered into his ear, “she’s no longer your daughter.” He turned his head and joined the girl in the feast.
As they left the body hand in, hand, the girl suddenly queried, “I don’t understand…”
“What, My Lovely?”
“Why was I made like you? What use am I?”
Magister smiled down at her. “I would guess you were a mistake of over exuberance by one of my young students. But one I’m glad was made. You bring me joy.” His smile grew to a grin as she jumped up to hug him.
***
Ethan walked out of the bathroom with a towel draped around his waist and using another to rub his hair dry. At the sight of Dawn leaning against the wall just inside his door, he hid a grin behind the movement of the towel.
“My Dear, as much as I would savor your company, I don’t think your sister finding you in here with me, alone, is very conducive to my continuing health.”
“Don’t worry, she won’t come looking for me,” Dawn stated in a sure voice. “She’s too busy worrying about other things.”
Ethan threw the towel he’d been using on his hair back through the open bathroom door and faced the girl with his hands on his hips. “I’m sure you are one of the foremost things on the Slayer’s mind. However, suddenly finding yourself to be one of Ripper’s enemies can be a disconcerting experience. Believe me, I know.” He watched as a mixture of determination and sadness, along with a few other indiscernible emotions played across her face. “You were against this, weren’t you?” Ethan whispered.
Dawn stood up straight, refocusing herself. “Faith left some new clothes on the bed for you. She says they should fit you like the old snake skin you’re used too. Whatever that means.”
“Lovely girl,” Ethan chuckled, rounding the double bed to sit with his back to the teenager. He could feel her eyes scanning his bared torso as he moved. Knowing what it was catching her attention, he commented in his easy manner, “Just a few memories. You don’t get to be a couple ol’ dogs like me and Rupert without collecting a fair share of war wounds.”
“Did they do that to you?”
“Who, the army boys?” He answered without looking up from his perusal of the new wardrobe. “A few. But most come from a lifetime of self-abuse. Some of my favorites even come from dear old…” With a glance at the girl’s sad expression, Ethan took on a tone that allowed a little more care to slip through. “It looks like you lot are a bit worse for wear these days yourselves. The boy’s arm, the Slayer’s leg, and you…” Dawn unconsciously cradled the hand bearing two splinted fingers to her body. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
Dawn swallowed, determined not to let the strange sorcerer see the emotions memories of that night still stirred. She nodded, “The doctor said they weren’t broken. He only dislocated them. It was like he wanted to cause the most possible pain, but no permanent damage. I don’t understand. It’s not Giles, so why would he still care?”
“Ah, the great conundrum that is the dark side of Ripper.” Dawn quickly looked away as Ethan stood to pull a pair of jeans on, immodestly leaving the towel behind. The older man chuckled, glancing back and catching the blush on her cheeks. “How old are you anyway, Luv?”
“I didn’t come here to talk about any of this,” Dawn grumbled, frustrated by her own childish behavior. “I came because I want to hear more about Giles. About the past.”
Ethan buttoned his shirt as he slowly approached her. “I would think from my last tale that you would have figured the events of our past don’t exactly make good bedtime stories.”
“That’s why I need to hear more. There must have been some good things. Otherwise, why would any of you have stayed together?”
“Yes, there are some memories that I will cherish until my last day in this world. Some that I’ll bet even Ripper can look back on and smile.” Ethan sat on the bed facing her with a sigh. “What would you like to know?”
Dawn thought a moment. “How about telling me why you call him Ripper?”
He let a loud laugh shake through him. The sorcerer eyed her coyly. “Would you believe me if I said we just called him that because we thought it sounded better than Rupert?”
Dawn shook her head. “Nope. Ripper is the kind of name you earn. Especially if it stays with you.”
Ethan laughed again and rubbed a hand through his damp hair. “He’ll kill me for telling you that story.”
“Well…” Dawn plopped down on the bed beside him. “At this point he’s probably gonna kill us all anyway. I’d like to know. Please tell me.”
“Memories of the real man to stave off the monster?” He looked down at her knowingly and Dawn let a small smile cross her lips. “Very well, but this is his story and not to be shared.” Her smile grew into a grin.
***
Xander jumped and stifled a screech when the full plate and glass he’d been balancing in his good hand were suddenly taken from him. He took some deep breaths to steady his heartbeat and gave Angel an annoyed look.
The vampire smiled weakly. “I thought it looked like you could use a little help.”
“You mean an extra hand for the cripple?” Xander sighed as Angel seemed to crumble at his cutting jest. “Thanks, man. It’s just, sometimes I wish you would wear a freakin’ bell.” They walked into the office so he could sit at the desk to eat.
“How’s Dawn?” Angel finally asked quietly.
“Good. She told me she was going up to try and take a nap. Sometimes I think she’s holding up better that the rest of us.” Xander took a swallow of his drink and looked up at Angel. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
“I should have been here to protect you guys.”
“Honestly, I don’t think it would’ve made a difference.” Xander leaned back in the chair and turned it to fully face the vampire. “Angel, he brought a dozen friends with him and made it clear he didn’t need their help. You couldn’t have done anything.”
Angel shook his head sadly. “Even if I couldn’t have stopped all of it, he might have focused on me more and not…”
“Listen. I’ve never been the smart one, or the strong one, or even the very useful one. I’m just the guy who sees what’s goin’ on around him and tries to stay out of the way. And what I did see was how you reacted when we came back from the hospital. Yes, you were worried about my arm, but it was when you saw Dawn’s hand that you found a lighter shade of pale.”
Angel scrubbed a hand over his face and fidgeted like he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“I was there, too,” Xander continued. “I remember.”
“But why her?” Angel finally groaned. “If he wanted revenge, why not take it out on the monster who did those things to him in the first place?”
“It’s what you tried to warn us about. He knows us. He knows how to cause each of us the most pain. He knew that by giving Dawn some of the injuries Angelus gave him, you would blame yourself for her pain. He knew that by teasing Buffy about how she treated Giles, it would cause her to make a mistake. I don’t even wanna think about what he might be putting Wills through. And he knew the best way to get to Wes was by making him stand by and watch the rest of us get hurt. We have to face it, Angel, he’s got all our number. Our only choice is to stick it out and hope we get a lucky break soon.”
Angel suddenly looked up and glanced around. “You’re right, but… Have you seen Wes lately? I thought he’d be in here reading.”
***
Ethan stretched his long form out on the bed, leaning his head back on folded arms and crossing his ankles. “Where was I again?”
Turning to sit on the bed facing him, Dawn gathered her legs up under her. “You’re all in a bar someplace in London.”
“Oh yes, Whitechapel. We were meeting up with my mate Philip, who’d brought Thomas and Diedre. And I had Rupert with me so I could introduce him…”
“Excuse me. I’ll be back.” Rupert set his pint on the table and headed for the restroom.
Ethan leaned in to speak to his friends. “So, what do you think? Does this one belong in our little group?”
“I don’t know,” Philip snorted. “He seems like a… Come on, where’d you find him anyway?”
“Yeah,” Thomas added, “that accent and those manners… Seems like a real prat to me.”
“Just because you don’t have any manners. Besides, that’s what he’s trying to get away from, you berk. Who better to show him the lower side of living?” Ethan sighed and turned to the dark-eyed beauty at the table. “Diedre, Luv. You can see the potential, right? I’m telling you, this kid has something special.” He reached out to take her hand.
“I won’t deny he’s cute, Ethan, even for a clean-cut, bookworm type. But, do we really want a school boy like ‘im tagging around with us?” The lovely, young woman gently squeezed his hand. “We’ve dealt with your crush of the week before, Sweetie. Male or female, they never work out and we have to deal with the aftermath.” She lowered her voice for only his ears. “And the way he was looking at me, you might have more work cut out than you want to put in on this one.”
“I think you worked out, Luv. And how could I blame him for noticing you?” Ethan flashed her his most charming grin and sighed. “So, you all think I brought him here as just another pretty face, ay?”
“Ethan, don’t get like--” Thomas groaned.
“No. You want a sample of why he belongs with us? I’ll give you one.” He was eyeing three large footballers who had just entered the pub.
“Wait. Footballers?” Dawn asked.
“You call the sport Soccer here, I believe. In England some of the fans can become rather rabid. To clarify, these where muscle-bound sports boys. Definitely not the sort to tolerate our type at that time.”
“Oh,” the girl laughed, “you mean meatheads. I’ve got it now.”
“Three Bitters, and keep ‘em comin’,” one of the large men told the bartender.
“Ethan,” Philip hissed as his friend rose and took his pint from the table, “I’m not in the mood for this tonight. Start somethin’ and you’re on your own.”
Ethan only grinned and moved toward his targets with an exaggerated weaving stagger. His friends groaned and shook their heads.
Rupert walked out of the restroom into a sea of noise and chaos. Patrons were scrambling to escape the pub and get away from the brawl going on across the room. The young man could see Philip and Thomas tangled up with two big guys, and watched as Ethan took a blow to the stomach that sent him crumpled to the floor.
“Hey,” Diedre ran at the one who had just dispatched Ethan, “What’s the matter with you. He’s half your size… pillock!”
The muscled brute easily caught Diedre by the wrist and spun her into a tight hold against his body. She began to shake as he pulled out a long knife and played it along her chest. “This is a bad part of town for you to be gettin’ any ideas, Missy. For all you know, I might be the next ripper, just waitin’ for a pretty, little whore like you to slice into.”
Diedre’s shimmering eyes locked with the young man across the room. “Rupert!” she cried.
“Rupert?” her captor mocked. “You think a guy with a name like that is gonna be your hero?”
As her aggressor laughed, Rupert was already in motion. One foot planted in a chair, the next on a table, and he was hitting the two that held the other men with a flying tackle. Rupert was on his feet before their leader could recover from his surprised daze. Diedre took that instant to ram a heel into his shin and escape his grasp. Before the brute could reach for his lost prey, Rupert was on him.
Rupert ducked and dodged, using his superior speed to stay away from the slashing knife blade. Finally, seeing his opening, he spun in and stripped the weapon away as his forearm wrenched his opponent’s elbow into an unnatural position. With a second spin, he swiped the large man’s feet out from under him, and was on him as he hit the floor, the tip the knife he now held poking at the man’s abdomen.
“Who’s the ripper now?” Rupert growled. “Maybe someone should teach you how to treat a lady.”
Rupert’s eyes went as wide as his victims when someone stumbled into him and he felt the knife pierce soft flesh. He stared into the suddenly pain-filled eyes for what seemed like hours, not knowing how to express his sorrow or beg for forgiveness.
The seemingly distant voice of the bartender shouted, “Those are fuzz whistles. You guys get him out of here!”
Rupert felt himself being torn away from the man whose blood was now pooling on the floor. He was hustled out the back door and rushed down an alleyway. As they went, he could vaguely register that there was celebration going on around him.
“Did you see that?” Thomas howled. “Who’s the ripper now? That was one of the greatest things I’ve heard, Mate!” He grabbed Rupert’s shoulder and shook it excitedly.
“I told you,” Ethan chuckled. “No doubt now that Rupert here belongs with us, ay?”
Philip slapped Ethan on the back. “Not Rupert. This one needs something that will do him justice. He’s our Ripper now.”
The other two agreed excitedly, but Rupert walked along in silence staring at his blood-stained left hand. Diedre came up beside him and gently wrapped his hand in a handkerchief before taking it in hers.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered to him, “you didn’t get ‘im anywhere important. Hospital will give ‘im a few stitches and he’ll have another scar to show off to his pillock friends. You didn’t do anything wrong, Sweetie. Thank you for saving me.” She leaned up and placed a tender kiss on his cheek.
He looked at her and smiled with a blush tingeing his cheeks as the voices around him shouted, “To Ripper!”
Dawn grinned. “That’s such an awesome story. Why doesn’t he like anyone to know?”
“I would guess he feels that first draw of blood is what started him on the road to worse things. After that he brought in his good mate, Randall, and… Well, that’s all history.” Ethan gave her a pat on the knee. “Now, I would like to rest a bit before we start our searching again. So, unless you would like to curl up here and join me, I suggest you leave me to it.”
There was a joking note to Ethan’s voice, but Dawn could tell by the look in his eyes that he would not be opposed to her taking him up on the offer. A light blush tinged her cheeks as she realized she was actually being flirted with.
“I…” Dawn cleared her throat. “I should probably go now. You’ve had a long day and someone might be looking for me.”
As she stepped through the door, she glanced back at the man still stretched on the bed and her blush deepened at his wink. Dawn couldn’t help a giggle as she rushed away from the room.
Chapter 9
Stock investment
(Anonymous) 2011-07-09 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)My site is about [url=http://goodstockstoinvestin.blogspot.com]Stock exchange[/url]
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Great work.
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Thanks for the encouragement. I know this is too complicated to finish by the end of SoG, but I hope to have a couple more chapters for you.
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Seriously, though. This is a very gripping read. It's obvious that you put tons of thought into vamp!Giles' actions and motivations. The way he calculated the most effective ways to hurt his former friends, the strategic way he built up his 'army', and even his bid to make Willow his queen... all these elements were masterfully handled.
And then you throw in Ethan and I'm having twice as much fun, if that's possible! Not sure if it's intentional or if I'm just seeing it because I want to, but I admit I'm a sucker for a little bit of a Dawn/Ethan vibe. ^_~
I hope you're spending all your free time working on this story (I command you!), so that you can pop up with some more chapters for the free day! *So* interested to see what happens next.
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And I love Ethan, too. He's a big flirt... and put that together with a teenaged girl and you just get fun! Besides, you can't fight evil Giles without the one person living who knows how far he could go with a soul.
Thank you, and I will get to work. ;)
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Thought for a few moments that you were going to pull a fast one, when you fliped from Dawn talking to Ethan, over to Xander, and since I'm a sucker for flash-back work I was genuinly relieved to see that you weren't. LOL.
What can I say? Keep up the wonderful work - you def got me hooked.
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With a story this complicated, I find that I have to let it tell me where I should go next. But, when it felt right to leave Ethan and Dawn to go to the other conversation going on in the building, I'll admit to some evil chuckling. My sister actually screamed at me when she came to that part. I do hope the tale of how Ripper got his name was worth the wait. ;)
I am working and I promise to have more.
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wonder what Ethan is up to?
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