The Legend of Ianto Jones
Author: AshtakRa
Fandom: Torchwood crossover with the Vampire Hunter universe, set more in their world than Torchwood's.
Setting: In St Louis, initially just Ianto but the others should make an appearance.
Pairings: Ianto/Jack implied, let's see what else happens
Summary: Ianto has a problem and only the master vampire of St Louis has the answers. Jason the were-wolf is given the job of looking after Ianto but it proves a hazardous task – someone wants him and doesn't care who gets hurt in the process. It may take the Torchwood team and the vampires and shape-shifters to solve this one. Slash implied
For Ingrid
The Legend of Ianto Jones: Chapter One
The rain flowed down the window of the Range Rover and Jason sighed heavily before opening the door, exiting and rushing over to the small piece of protection offered by the building's overhang. The late afternoon sun had already disappeared behind the taller buildings and even though the sudden chill should not have bothered him Jason pulled his jacket in close.
Something about this day was giving him, well the best he could think of was the creeps. At least he thought so. From the moment Jean-Claude had asked him for this 'favour' he had felt a strange feeling deep in his stomach. As if he knew something ominous was going to happen but could not tell when or what. For that reason he had asked his friend Nathaniel to come along. He had been too busy – actually Anita had been busy which meant Nathaniel was busy.
Jason shook his head at the complexity of it all. Even a player like him had trouble keeping track of Anita's love life – though it did involve him some of the time. That particular memory made him smile and he almost did not hear the bus pull up, strange since his hearing was preternatural. Snapping out of his reverie Jason stood out to make himself more visible, well aware that the guy he was meeting may well be just a human and not able to see him standing in the shadows.
As three people got off the bus Jason cursed quietly. Jean-Claude's instructions had been rather vague. "Just meet a friend of mine at the bus by the old shoe store on seventh" and that was all. Not who it was, how they looked or even what they were. Since the sun was still up Jason had to assume this friend was not vampire. But that left an awful lot of possibilities, especially if you were a friend of the Master of the City. Another strange thing had been Jean-Claude asking this as a favour. He could have made it an order or just a request (which again was an order when it came from the Master of the City).
Although fairly sure Jean-Claude would not purposefully put him in mortal danger a part of Jason's mind also acknowledged that the master vampire could be ruthless when need's be. The public face of Jason may have been all bluster and arrogance but underneath he often quivered in the company he kept. He knew how low he rated on the food chain when surrounded by Master Vampires and alpha shape-shifters.
It was with a start that Jason realised he had not been paying attention and that a man now stood before him. Mist escaping his lips as he breathed in the early evening chill and exhaled. That was pretty much all Jason could make out since the stranger had a fedora hat and overcoat on. Jason's first thought was 'oh great, another gangster friend' but then the guy stepped into the light and flashed a brilliant smile from a very youthful face. Now that Jason could see more he made out a light skinned man, probably slightly taller than him but slim even with the heavy coat on. It looked like dark hair under the hat, smooth shaven and even though he looked quite young the suit and coat were perfect on him.
"Jason I presume." The way he hung on to the vowels marked him out as English and if Jason wasn't too wrong there was definitely a welsh tone. He did pride himself on knowing accents and had often hung out with some Welsh ex-pats as a teenager.
"Um yeah, that's me," puffed Jason stupidly, not quite realising where his usual confidence had got to. Then felt even more stupid when he realised the guy had his hand out. Jason quickly grasped it and gave a firm shake. The hand was extremely dry and surprisingly warm – which given that Jason's body temperature was higher than normal said that this guy was possibly more than human.
The guy had said something but Jason had missed it. "Huh?" He realised how rude it sounded the minute he said it but the man just grinned again.
"Often happens here. I said my name's Ianto… Ianto Jones." He said it James Bond style and Jason had to smile at that. Here he was acting a complete dumbass and it was Ianto trying to put him at ease. Realising he still had the other man's hand Jason released it and finally managed to speak more than a grunt.
"Sorry, welcome to our fair city Mr Jones – I'm Jason. But then you already know that – oh fuck, I mean jesus – crap!" Jason's face went bright red as he realised he was digging the hole bigger and bigger. What the hell was going on? How could he suddenly be unable to even do a simple meet and greet? He could strip in front of hundreds of people and make small talk with thousand year old vampires but here and now he could not even complete a simple polite sentence.
Ianto laughed merrily. "That's okay Jason, and please call me Ianto. Don't worry about the niceties, I will be much more at home if you swear at me and basically belittle everything I do." The taller man turned Jason with his arm. "I imagine this car is ours, shall we?"
Blushing yet again Jason just nodded dumbly. Not knowing if Ianto could see him in the gloom he mumbled a yes but paused, checking to see if there was any luggage. All he could see was a small overnight bag and briefcase by the man's left foot. Picking them up he led Ianto over to the Range Rover. Once they were both inside and moving Jason glanced over at the other. He had taken off the hat and as he thought Ianto had short dark hair, meticulously combed back above a set of dark eyes and straight nose with full lips.
The were-wolf in Jason could not help but size up the man next to him. He was honest enough to admit that the guy was definitely good looking. Maybe not in a stripper hot kind of way but in a dark broodier sexiness that Jason found a little more intimidating. Blonde, blue eyed and cut he could handle but this guy had that quality that no amount of gym time or contact lenses could compete with.
He had to wonder what kind of friend Ianto might be to Jean-Claude and if their history was one of passion and not business. Not that such a thing should worry Jason either, he was Jean-Claude's Pomme de Sang. Not his lover and therefore no jealousy could exist, could it?
"I'm more a friend of a friend. Here for some advice that apparently only Jean-Claude might be able to give."
Oh shit thought Jason. Had he voiced his thoughts, what else could go wrong tonight? Checking the road before looking back he winced. "Sorry, its just Jean-Claude can be very secretive and I know nothing about you."
"That's okay. I have a boss who's very much the same."
The deep timbre of his voice seemed to echo around the vehicle, almost like more than one voice had spoken. Jason assumed it was either his imagination or just another in a long line of weird shit going on today.
"So what do you want to know?" Ianto asked and from anyone else Jason would have taken it as a rebuke, like a 'dare you to actually ask me' but he got the feeling Ianto was being genuine. Like he was still trying to put Jason at ease.
"Uh, I guess where are you from. Like where exactly in England?"
"Its better to ask Britain. Where are you from in Britain."
"Huh?" said Jason as he swerved to avoid a car that had suddenly appeared in front. His attention was absolutely atrocious tonight.
"England is only part of Britain. It would be like saying where are you from in Canada when you come from the States. It would be better to say where are you from in America, less people get insulted that way."
"Huh?" answered Jason, not quite getting it and trying to work out if Ianto was being serious or just having a go. By the look on his face it was a bit of both.
Ianto laughed silently but answered the original question. "I live in Cardiff at the moment." When Jason said nothing he continued, "It's in Wales, that's on the west side of-."
"Yeah, I know." Jason hoped he had not been too rude in interrupting but did not want to seem too ignorant of where other countries were. Besides he really did know where Wales was and had a pretty good idea where Cardiff was as well.
"So if I can ask, what brings you to Jean-Claude? You mentioned advice."
The dark haired man was silent for a time, seeming to weigh up his answer. Just when Jason decided he should move on Ianto spoke.
"I recently got injured and the result of that was rather… surprising. Jack – that's my um… boss, he said to come see Jean-Claude about what might be happening to me."
This confused Jason a little. If Ianto was taking about being attacked by a shape-shifter then he should have sensed it. Even if Ianto had not fully turned yet; but beyond the increased body temp there had been no beast to sense. Perhaps it was some kind of other attack. Again it could not be vampire because Ianto had travelled during the day; it could be any number of things Jason surmised. He had met things even he did not believe existed, thanks mostly to Jean-Claude and Anita.
Ianto had opened up a little so Jason thought it only fair to share. "I may know a little of what you are going through, I'm a were-wolf – you know, all hairy when the moon is up, completely smooth the rest of the time."
Ianto laughed at that and Jason let a breath of release, it seemed a little of his old charm was returning. Although why he was flirting with this guy, if only a little, was beyond him at this point.
"I have met were-wolves before but they were not so… intriguing." The slight smile could have meant anything but the glint in his eyes told Jason that Ianto may well be doing some flirting of his own. It seemed this night was getting out of hand. While Jason may have been willing to get sexual with Jean-Claude, or even Asher – that was a as a result of him being a donor. After letting someone drink your blood sex was not an onerous suggestion – even if Jean-Claude had never gone that far. Asher was a different story and Jason felt his lust stir at just the memory.
"Dead puppies, dead puppies," he quickly whispered to himself; worried that no matter if Ianto was not a shape-shifter he might pick up on what Jason was thinking. And that may well be a mistake. Jean-Claude took his power base very seriously. As his Pomme de Sang Jason had to be careful who, and what he got intimate with. Too many enemies and not enough friends when you have stood up to the council and dated a necromancer. Jason knew most of Jean-Claude's and Anita's secrets – and was pretty much petrified that he would somehow screw something up more so than previously and get one of them killed. If that happened Jason knew he would not survive long, because the one that lived would then kill him. That is if his Ulfric, his wolf King Richard did not kill him first, just because Jason was always being Jason. Although the injury was long healed he still felt twinges in his back from when Richard had attacked him, just because Jason had stood up for Anita.
"This Anita, a necromancer? Now that would be interesting."
Shit shit shit! Had he voiced his thoughts again? What in all hell was happening to him? Maybe he needed a break, maybe he should just take a long trip to somewhere where there were no vampires, no undead creatures screwing around with him. New Zealand, apparently the little Pacific nation had no vampires. Jason winced when he remembered that although there were no vampires New Zealand had an over abundance of uber-trolls. Viscous little creatures that attacked shape-shifters on sight, well smell since the tiny bastards had no eyes.
"She's a lot more than that Ianto. If you meet her just remember she may just look like a little lady but packs quite a punch… and a bullet and a couple of knives – oh yeah and a short sword."
"I get the picture," he muttered under his breath, but Jason could still hear, "Should introduce her to Gwen, bet the two of them would hit it right off."
"Is Gwen your… significant other?"
Ianto snorted and looked at Jason with wide scared eyes. "Not in this reality, or any I hope – she's a friend, a colleague – look out!"
Jason slammed on the breaks as a dark shape lunged at the windscreen, shattering it and blinding him with the sudden rush of wind and rain. The vehicle had gone into a skid and he heard the screech as the car behind them also tried to stop, but it was too late and he was slammed into the steering wheel as they were hit from behind.
With a gut wrenching crump the Range Rover hit the median strip and came to a stop. Jason tried to get his breath back and figure out what had hit them. Clearing his eyes with one hand he reached across but only found an empty seat where Ianto had been.
"Ianto!" There was no answer so he tried to open the door. Couldn't so he slipped off his seat belt (Anita always made him wear it and the habit had stuck) and jumped out through the front and crouched on the bonnet. Looking around he smelt the air. There was nothing, a streetlight off to the side gave off enough light for him to see the entire area but there was nothing but empty road and shattered glass. No sound came from the car that had rammed them so he jumped up over the Range Rover, using his preternatural strength to reach the ground behind his vehicle in the single leap.
The other car, a modern sedan, had slid off to the side but a quick search revealed no occupants – just an open door and a feint smell of, well Jason had smelt this many times before and knew what it was – decomposition, the smell of a rotting corpse.
"Ianto!" he called into the emptiness but no answer was returned, as he pulled out his phone Jason shuddered, Jean-Claude was going to kill him.
JCJCJCJCJCJC
After delivering his report Jason went to leave the room but Jean-Claude motioned him to stay with a flick of his eyes. That was enough to make the young shape-shifter gulp and slink to the back of the room like a defeated pup. While there he watched and listened as Jean-Claude organised a search and initiated an investigation – for anyone to attack someone under the Master of the City's protection was a bold move, or an extremely stupid one.
Once everyone left the room Jason thought for a second that perhaps Jean-Claude had forgotten him. He was wrong as in a blink of the eye the master vampire was before him – his eyes blazing blue and the room suddenly turned very cold. An icy hand closed on his neck and Jason vision dimmed as the breath was strangled from his body. The hand clenched and Jason felt tendons in his neck break and his windpipe begin to crush, just as he felt his legs collapse Jean-Claude let him go and he fell forward, gasping and holding his bruised neck. It would heal but the pain would probably remain a lot longer.
Jean-Claude said nothing. He simply walked away leaving Jason on the floor. Although Jason knew that the vampire could have torn his head off with just the one hand he was still surprised at the ferocity of it, and the lack of regret that was uncharacteristic of Jean-Claude. It took a full minute before Jason could stand again, and even then he was unsteady. Looking at Jean-Claude he tried to speak but his throat was too damaged – but his eyes said it all, why?
The master-vampire had stood motionless the entire time in that way that only the un-dead can manage. His eyes still ablaze he spoke blankly, without emotion. "I can no longer tolerate such failures, especially from my pomme de sang."
"Jean-Claude," croaked Jason, pleading for this not to happen but the effort was too much and he was struck by a fit of coughing. For a moment he thought Jean-Claude had moved but when he looked up the vampire was still across the room. His eyes had lost their fire but his voice remained emotionless.
"You are banished from my presence Jason. You are no longer my Pomme de Sang."
Every word cut deep into Jason's heart. Banished! To be thrown out of this world that he loved, this life that gave him what little meaning was left. Worse was to no longer share in the embrace, the giving of blood that could be ecstasy. If Jason was honest just being in the presence of such great and powerful beings would have been enough. But now that was all being stripped away because he had failed Jean-Claude, and part of him understood that. Understood that there had been too many challenges; too many attempts to wrest power away from the Master of the City. Jean-Claude had to reassert his power base and Jason now realised what he had always felt; he was nothing more than a plaything for Jean-Claude, an amusement – something pretty to have laying about but in the end useless. Definitely not something to love, nor something to hold onto or regret its loss.
"Be gone and do not come back. If you are lucky and hide well you may yet remain in my city – but draw attention and you will find just how merciful I have been."
With that Jason gasped as the left side of his face stung from a powerful slap. Jean-Claude had glided forward and dealt him a glancing blow.
"That was for failure." He slapped the other side and Jason felt the tears burning in his eyes just as strong as the reddened skin of his cheek. "And that was to remind you, do not return – the Circus of the Damned is truly dead ground for you."
The tears fell freely as Jason tried once again to speak, but failed. He reached out to Jean-Claude but the vampire backed away.
"Be gone," he grumbled, his voiced echoing around the room and when Jason did not move, "Be gone!" This time it seemed as if the very walls shook. Jason did not hesitate this time and fled. Out through the door and down the hall – not bothering to collect his things he flew up the stone stairs and out the entrance. So fast did he run that he did not notice how many others he passed. Not that it mattered since everyone had heard Jean-Claude's bellow and not one would have acknowledged the young man.
He was dead to them all. Even though many were his friends they would have no choice – if he returned they would have to kill him. The Master of the City had spoken and Jason was now an outcast. Lucky even if his own pack would take him in. On his escape he had not tried to hide the tears or the hurt on is face and although all the bodyguards saw it they would not comment. If Jean-Claude had done this to one of his closest, his pomme de sang, then what might he do to them?
JCJCJCJC
In his chamber Jean-Claude listened to Jason running and heard the outer door clang shut. Only then did his features twist in regret and he held up the jacket that he had torn from Jason before he left. He breathed in the scent. Husky sweat and the smell of pack with a hint of cologne – cologne that Jean-Claude had given him.
"I am sorry my little wolf," he whispered to himself and a single tear rolled down his face. As ruthless as the master vampire tried to be it was this that always hurt him the most, betraying those he loved. A hand was placed on his shoulder. Asher, although he had not been in the room he had heard every word and understood why Jean-Claude had done it.
"You had little choice," he whispered and hugged Jean-Claude from behind.
Jean-Claude tried to smile but instead it came out as a grimace. "You and I know that, but I believe Anita will disagree."
"Ahh yes, Anita," said Asher hesitantly. "I think I may vacate the premises when you tell her."
Jean-Claude sighed heavily. Some things even he should never have to deal with –and an enraged ma petite was one of them.
Tbc…
