When the Olde Appear

By: Sheiado

Summary: (Mick/Beth). Two ancient vampires come to Los Angeles, one a mysterious hunter of innocents and the other, a rogue who hunts the other ancient for retribution.

Author's Note: A big thanks to Outlaw Author for the review! Here's the next part with more to come!

Chapter One: Visitations

He had felt the distinct tingle of a presence right upon awakening. His senses, however, keen to an inhuman degree, were momentarily dormant and dulled from sleep and the lack of a decent meal in the past twenty four hours.

It was through sheer instinct, however, that alerted him to just exactly 'who' had entered his apartment with the preditorial stealth of a cat burglar.

With a heavy, audible grunt of irritation, Mick St. John climbed out of his confined, frigid sanctuary, his eyes rolling heavenward. His limbs moved efficiently and with enough grace that most would fail to notice how stiff his joints and movements physically were becoming as he adjusted to the room's temperature.

Throwing a shirt over his head and entering the living room with heavy, confident footfalls, Mick gazed over at the occupied couch with a raised eyebrow of suspicion.

His "guest" merely quirked his lips up at him in an unveiled smile of greeting. "About time you woke up," he drawled, "I was beginning to think I'd die from complete boredom sitting here for a whole hour."

Much to Mick's consternation, there in his living room, sat none other than Josef Konstantin in all his patronizing glory, a small glass of ruby liquid cupped in his nibble fingers and a feign smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

It didn't take much for Mick to know that something was up and when Josef randomly popped in for an unexpected visit it usually meant an end result with him being elbow deep in an unnerving situation.

Rolling his eyes at his friend's melodramatic retort, Mick approached his already opened cabinet stores, withdrawing a clear crimson package for himself.

It flopped noisily onto the smooth countertop as he grabbed for his syringe with stiff movements. "And here I thought with age comes patience," he muttered.

Josef scoffed, taking the amusing initiative of pretending to be insulted, followed by, "Whoever gave you 'that' idea? Patience comes with understanding and sentiment. And we both know that I'm far too 'old' for sentiment and far too 'busy' for understanding. That's for mortals who have such little time in their life spans that they strive to accomplish 'both'. You're forgetting that we are the exceptions to the rule."

Mick merely shrugged. He wasn't surprised in the least bit from 'that' response coming right out of the mouth of Josef Konstantin.

Steadily filling up his syringe with the contents of his "meal" for the night, he asked offhandedly, "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of 'this' unexpected visit? Besides another problem, that is…?"

"That weary of my visits, Mick?"

At his friend's silence and upturned eyebrow, Josef huffed a lingering sigh and sat up straighter in the plush cushion. "Very well, I concede. However, before I begin, I must warn you that this isn't just any problem. 'This' problem is a more 'dangerous' one and is on a far larger scale than any threat we've ever come across before."

Wonderful.

Taking the note of seriousness in his friend's voice, Mick stopped his movements, his tone guarded as he stated, "I'm listening."

Not one to sugarcoat any given situation, Josef answered, "We have an ancient in our city, an 'extremely' deadly one."

The word "ancient" caught his attention. And 'that' word alone made him deftly put down his meal ticket for the moment. "How old…?"

"Fourteen centuries," Josef stated, "he's faster, stronger, and more powerful than any of us in this city… save for one that is."

At the last part of his answer, Mick gazed at him in confusion.

"Yes, there's more," Josef continued, standing up on his feet to peer over at him levelly. "Another ancient has come here to hunt him, a woman named Alice DeWaranne, better known as the Elder 'Ailios'."

"And the one we're searching to kill…?"

"He goes by Koffat and you'll find that he can mask his tracks and victim's murders exceedingly well. As good as his talents are, however, if he isn't caught and killed soon, let's just say we will 'both' have an 'extremely' big mess on our hands to clean up… one that I'm sure will have LA's finest heads rolling. And even 'that' might not be figuratively speaking."

Mick paused at his words, taking them into grave consideration. "Why did you consider me for this job, Josef? Isn't this a situation for your primary contacts…?"

Josef sighed in wistful agitation. "They're not qualified, 'especially' when an Elder as powerful and as old as Ailios is involved. Let's just say she's a stubborn woman who prefers to do things her own way without outside interference. I have no "jurisdiction" where she's concerned. Also, she's the grandsire of a lot of my contacts. They refuse and know better than to involve themselves in her affairs."

Mick gazed over at him with overwhelming suspicion. "And yet, I'm 'qualified'?"

Josef merely smiled in sardonic amusement. "Let's just say you and her have something in common, something that I'm sure 'will' allow you into her confidence and good graces."

Mick raised a doubtful eyebrow. "What? Is she a PI, too?"

Josef scoffed. "No… but as to her profession, she's an FBI agent. Look, the only advice I can give you is to not be too surprised to see her on future crime scenes. Also, where there are drained bodies, he was there and was the untimely cause of the victims' murders. Don't fall for his illusions."

"Aren't drained bodies the case with all vampires?"

Walking over to the marble countertop, Josef set down his wine glass, replying rather cryptically, "You will find that 'this' particular one is somewhat different."

"And just how 'different' can he possibly be…?"

"You'll find out sooner than you think, St. John."