Disclaimer: Please see Part 1 Chapter 1...
SHADOWED SOULS Part 5
Chapter 8
"AAAAGGGHHH!"
"AAAAGGGHHH!"
"Aaagggh!"
"Aaagggh!"
"Agh-ah – I'm sorry, but you made me jump!" Connor didn't make the mistake of lowering the short sword he carried.
"Well you're pretty startling yourself, dude!" The other person said.
Adopting a less aggressive stance, Connor eyed the 'man' he had unexpectedly come upon as he crept through the garden around the deserted Summers' mansion, with Dawn, Buffy et al still being in LA. Tall and completely hairless with big, floppy pointed ears three times the size of a human's, the 'guy's' skin fell in wrinkled folds, giving him the appearance of a Bull Mastiff with severe mange.
"Anyway, what are you doing creeping around Dawn's house?" Connor seized the initiative again.
"Dawn's – hey," the guy smiled knowingly, "you're that kid Dawn likes."
"I'm not a ki- Dawn said she likes me?"
"You're Connor Whatshisname…and what are you doing creeping around Dawn's house? If you're stalking –"
"Stalking!" yelped Connor indignantly. "Do I look like that scuzzy Staavuz?" As he made this challenge, realisation hit, "You're a demon!"
"I prefer other-dimensional being," The demon said huffily, "and I'm a friend of the family."
Connor raised both eyebrows at this.
"I am too. I keep an eye out and my ear to the ground for Buffy when she needs help…hey, kid, I was invited to Buffy's birthday party…though technically Spike invited me…"
"Spike, Dawn's 'stepbrother'…the vampire." Connor lowered the sword. "So you're keeping an eye on the place?"
"Pretty much. I'm Clem." The demon held out his hand. "Clement."
Connor took it and they shook. "Connor Riley. I transferred to UC Sunnydale from Stanford."
"'Cause of Dawn."
"Pretty much. I saw…some stuff in LA…and apparently I have some enhanced abilities of my own so I thought…" Connor trailed off, prudently wary of giving too much information away – he was still having trouble 'processing' himself.
"With you, kid." Clem assured him. "That's a good attitude to have. Most people would just be out for what they could get if they had that kind of deal going for them. Your family's cool with it, huh?"
Connor shrugged. "I've always been different. My mom and dad know there are demons and…bad things…out there, and they're not comfortable with that world, but they understand why I feel I have to do something, like my dad said, the guy who stands by and lets bad things happen when he could do something about it is just as bad as the one doing the evil."
Clem nodded. "Your folks sound like solid people."
"Yeah…I'm lucky they picked me." Connor murmured to himself as he shoved the sword back into the scabbard he'd buckled around his waist.
"Picked you?"
"I'm adopted." Connor admitted. "But look, since you've been keeping an eye on the place, have you seen this guy –"
"Hewitt. Yep."
"Thank goodness." Connor blew out a breath. "I saw him breaking in a few days ago. He came up to me on campus, all smarmy, pretending to be one of the counsellors starting in the fall, but he's up to no good. I think he's after Dawn."
"You're absolutely right." Clem told him. "Hewitt isn't his real name, and he's no more a college counsellor than I'm the Pope. His name isn't Hewitt, either."
"You know what he's after?"
Clem looked grim. "He's an assassin."
"What?"
"Yep. Hired killer. Paid hitman." The demon said, moving his head back and forth rhythmically in what Connor was quickly realising was a habitual 'nodding dog' motion, which unfortunately only accentuated his resemblance to a bloodhound with severe mange; but Connor easily swallowed back the impulse to smile – Clem had had him from 'assassin', so he did the smart thing and listened to somebody more experienced than he was.
"He's usually hired by someone wanting to bump off a relative to get an inheritance, or avoid paying alimony for the rest of forever. His speciality is 'convenient accidents'," Clem made the ubiquitous quotation mark signs in the air with his fingers. "Always extremely plausible, of course. His victims don't end up with bullet holes or knife wounds; they fall down stairs, get fried by faulty kitchen appliances or fall asleep and drown in the bath."
"And he's after Dawn," breathed Connor. "No way is he getting anywhere near her." He looked at Clem. "Will you help me?"
"Damn sure I'll help you!" Clem exclaimed firmly. "Even aside from the fact that Spike would kill me slowly in unspeakable ways if I let anything happen to Little Bit, the Slayer and hers have been good to me. It's not easy to make it in this town, especially when I make people laugh rather than run screaming in terror."
"You made me scream." Connor reminded him.
"Yeah, I did." Clem brightened. "There's a bar near here, Slim Willie's – he relocated a week before Old Sunnydale went kaput down the crater. I'll buy you a drink and we can come up with a way to get rid of Hewitt?"
"Sure!" agreed Connor cheerfully, managing to stop a big grin spreading across his face; clearly the demon underworld didn't have the concept of carding and Clem was clearly clueless about the inconvenient practice. "So, you've been with Spike and Buffy and everyone when some hairy stuff went down?"
"Pretty much," Clem nodded again sagely, "The things I could tell you…"
"I'd be grateful if you would," Connor encouraged, "to be honest, I'm new to all this superhero bit. It's not as easy as it looks."
"You've got good reflexes and instincts," Clem praised as they began to make their way out of the shrubbery, "and you didn't make the mistake of lowering your sword just because I comically look like a certain species of canine and therefore don't seem to be dangerous."
"Thanks," Connor preened.
"That's the most important lesson," Clem emphasised, "you happen to know that Spike's a vampire, but nobody can tell that from just looking at him, which is why he's so terribly dangerous…on top of being a stone-cold killer of course. Spike told me this saying once by this English guy, Thackery, about…"
"'How great and widespread the delusion that just because something is beautiful, it therefore must also be good?'" Connor guessed.
"Exactly!" Clem nodded sharply. "You humans are lucky that for whatever reason, Spike chooses to give the suckers some warning of danger –"
"- like wasps and bees, or how poisonous insects always have the brightest colours - " Connor realised abruptly.
" – right, kid, you are smart. But think: change that radioactive-yellow hairstyle and the punk fashion preference for black leather and studs into a slicked down brunette in a business suit and Spike would be so inconspicuous you'd walk right past him in the street without ever realising how much terrible danger you were in, how close you were to a killer. Don't ever let your guard down just because something looks about as lethal as a teddy bear. For example, look at this…"
"What?" Connor asked -
- just as the flesh of Clem's face opened out and snakes erupted –
"AAAAAGGGGHHHH!"
To be continued in Part 5 Chapter 9
© 2006 & 2010, The Cat's Whiskers
