Chapter Ten
Wesley stared across the hallway as if transfixed. This was stretching the bounds of coincidence. Now there were two people in the hotel besides Wesley that had something to do with Rupert, one of whom was definitely dangerous. What on earth was going on?
The door opened, and the tall young man from the night before was framed in the opening. Wesley still didn't recognize him, but the name Ethan exclaimed was definitely one he knew.
"Riley Finn?" Wesley murmured. "Buffy's ex-boyfriend, in contact with Ethan Rayne? This can't be good."
Hurriedly, he pulled the key from his pocket again and unlocked the room door. Forget relocating, this business with Ethan and Riley was too important to ignore. It was unlikely that it had anything to do with Connor, but he had most of a day before Rupert would arrive to help him. In the meantime, this was definitely something Rupert would want to know about.
Wesley moved his suitcases back inside the room, then stood there a moment, staring at the telephone in indecision. Should he let anyone else know about this? He didn't exactly want to speak with any of the Angel Investigations staff, but there wasn't anyone else he could inform. Rupert was already on his way, and there really was no point in calling the Slayer unless things got catastrophically out of control.
Well. He could call Cordelia's apartment. She might still be on vacation, and if not, she was likely to be at the Hyperion. Being Cordelia, however, she would probably check her messages often, and would therefore be able to pass the warning along in a timely fashion. Yes. That would work.
Wes stepped quickly over to the 'phone and dialed Cordelia's number, then carried the instrument back over towards the windows. While it rang, he parted the miniblinds at eye-level with finger and thumb, watching the conversation taking place across the way.
After three rings, someone picked up at the other end. "Hello?" Cordelia asked, in a quiet, depressed tone of voice.
Blast. "This day just keeps getting better," Wesley muttered under his breath.
"What? Wes, is that you? Where have you been?" Cordelia spoke much more loudly now, with worry in her tone. The 'phone picked up other voices faintly in the background, asking questions that Wes couldn't quite hear.
"I can't talk," he said, quickly. "Ethan Rayne is in town. I thought someone should know."
"Wes, where are you?" Cordelia asked again, more urgently. "Fred was upset. She didn't mean it. We need you here!"
Wesley swallowed, then resolutely put the receiver down and cut off the call. He was dismayed to find that his hands were trembling. "No," he said to the empty air, "you don't."
He was uncomfortably reminded of the days after the Blim incident. Despair, guilt, shame; old friends, all three. No. He would not return this time, not until he found Connor again, and perhaps not even then. It was time he moved on, before he caused any more hurt to the people he cared about.
He peered through the miniblinds again, and saw Ethan exiting the room, closely followed by Riley. It was time to justify his "private investigator" title. Wes waited until they were halfway down the corridor, backs to him, then stepped outside, relocked his own door, and followed.
It was more difficult for him to keep pace than he'd hoped. By the time he reached the the sidewalk in front of the bar, he desperately wanted a glass of something numbing. He knew it was stupid to drink with painkillers in his system, but since the painkillers weren't adequately doing their job ...
Ah. Door. Wes entered the bar quietly and stood in the entryway for a moment, carefully scanning the main room for his quarry. In all likelihood, Ethan had no idea what he looked like now, so he wasn't much worried, but instinct told him to be careful. He hadn't the energy to defy Ethan at the moment, and Ethan had a reputation for holding grudges.
Wes had only been eleven or so the last time he'd seen the man in person. He'd accompanied his father on Council grounds and noticed the young sorcerer hiding in the Library building. Many years later, he'd found out that Ethan had been visiting Rupert that night, trying to coax his old friend back to the streets. Instead, due to Wes' discovery, Ethan had been forcibly ejected from the property and it had been firmly warded against him.
Wes frowned. He didn't see Ethan or Riley anywhere visible. That wasn't good. Still ... the investigating could wait for a moment. He would sit down, order a drink, and *then* make every effort to find them and eavesdrop on their conversation. Just as soon as ...
"Well, if it isn't the little Watcher," someone said, grinning, in his ear.
Wesley sighed. "Well, there goes that idea."
TBC
Wesley stared across the hallway as if transfixed. This was stretching the bounds of coincidence. Now there were two people in the hotel besides Wesley that had something to do with Rupert, one of whom was definitely dangerous. What on earth was going on?
The door opened, and the tall young man from the night before was framed in the opening. Wesley still didn't recognize him, but the name Ethan exclaimed was definitely one he knew.
"Riley Finn?" Wesley murmured. "Buffy's ex-boyfriend, in contact with Ethan Rayne? This can't be good."
Hurriedly, he pulled the key from his pocket again and unlocked the room door. Forget relocating, this business with Ethan and Riley was too important to ignore. It was unlikely that it had anything to do with Connor, but he had most of a day before Rupert would arrive to help him. In the meantime, this was definitely something Rupert would want to know about.
Wesley moved his suitcases back inside the room, then stood there a moment, staring at the telephone in indecision. Should he let anyone else know about this? He didn't exactly want to speak with any of the Angel Investigations staff, but there wasn't anyone else he could inform. Rupert was already on his way, and there really was no point in calling the Slayer unless things got catastrophically out of control.
Well. He could call Cordelia's apartment. She might still be on vacation, and if not, she was likely to be at the Hyperion. Being Cordelia, however, she would probably check her messages often, and would therefore be able to pass the warning along in a timely fashion. Yes. That would work.
Wes stepped quickly over to the 'phone and dialed Cordelia's number, then carried the instrument back over towards the windows. While it rang, he parted the miniblinds at eye-level with finger and thumb, watching the conversation taking place across the way.
After three rings, someone picked up at the other end. "Hello?" Cordelia asked, in a quiet, depressed tone of voice.
Blast. "This day just keeps getting better," Wesley muttered under his breath.
"What? Wes, is that you? Where have you been?" Cordelia spoke much more loudly now, with worry in her tone. The 'phone picked up other voices faintly in the background, asking questions that Wes couldn't quite hear.
"I can't talk," he said, quickly. "Ethan Rayne is in town. I thought someone should know."
"Wes, where are you?" Cordelia asked again, more urgently. "Fred was upset. She didn't mean it. We need you here!"
Wesley swallowed, then resolutely put the receiver down and cut off the call. He was dismayed to find that his hands were trembling. "No," he said to the empty air, "you don't."
He was uncomfortably reminded of the days after the Blim incident. Despair, guilt, shame; old friends, all three. No. He would not return this time, not until he found Connor again, and perhaps not even then. It was time he moved on, before he caused any more hurt to the people he cared about.
He peered through the miniblinds again, and saw Ethan exiting the room, closely followed by Riley. It was time to justify his "private investigator" title. Wes waited until they were halfway down the corridor, backs to him, then stepped outside, relocked his own door, and followed.
It was more difficult for him to keep pace than he'd hoped. By the time he reached the the sidewalk in front of the bar, he desperately wanted a glass of something numbing. He knew it was stupid to drink with painkillers in his system, but since the painkillers weren't adequately doing their job ...
Ah. Door. Wes entered the bar quietly and stood in the entryway for a moment, carefully scanning the main room for his quarry. In all likelihood, Ethan had no idea what he looked like now, so he wasn't much worried, but instinct told him to be careful. He hadn't the energy to defy Ethan at the moment, and Ethan had a reputation for holding grudges.
Wes had only been eleven or so the last time he'd seen the man in person. He'd accompanied his father on Council grounds and noticed the young sorcerer hiding in the Library building. Many years later, he'd found out that Ethan had been visiting Rupert that night, trying to coax his old friend back to the streets. Instead, due to Wes' discovery, Ethan had been forcibly ejected from the property and it had been firmly warded against him.
Wes frowned. He didn't see Ethan or Riley anywhere visible. That wasn't good. Still ... the investigating could wait for a moment. He would sit down, order a drink, and *then* make every effort to find them and eavesdrop on their conversation. Just as soon as ...
"Well, if it isn't the little Watcher," someone said, grinning, in his ear.
Wesley sighed. "Well, there goes that idea."
TBC