Chapter 10 – Looking for Trouble
She should've stayed in her apartment and laid low—like Giles had told her. But for Faith, sitting around in her crummy studio with its paper-thin walls and bickering neighbors, its peeling wallpaper and noisy plumbing, and not to mention the roaches…
No. She couldn't do that
Instead, she'd devised a plan: to find the dark-haired vampire, ask a few questions, and beat the crap out of him if necessary. Just what was his connection to Hope's Watcher? And what game were they playing? Faith was determined to get some answers.
At a little past midnight, Faith was on her way to the place she'd discovered was the vampire's favorite hangout—the club she'd seen him exit the previous night. Stopping as she caught her spiked heel in a drainage grate, she glanced at her reflection in a store window.
She looked different than she usually did, in a clingy wine colored dress with a low v-neckline and a feminine, bias-cut skirt. Her hair cascaded around her face in carefully arranged ringlets; dark makeup accentuated her eyes and lips, contrasting with her pale skin. The small black velvet handbag hanging from her shoulder was just big enough to hold her wooden stake.
Faith ran her hands down the sides of her dress and nodded approvingly.
She'd blend in well with the young, fashionable crowd that hung out at the upscale nightclub. Hopefully, she'd go unnoticed.
* * *
As she wove through the hazy nightclub for the third time, Faith craned her neck, trying to see over the heads of writhing, gyrating dancers. The packed room was dark—except for the strobe lights that occasionally flashed in her eyes, blinding her.
She'd just started to rethink her whole game plan when she spotted her quarry standing in a corner, talking to a man in a dark suit. He hadn't seen her yet and Faith started toward him, carving her way through the crowd.
She was less than three feet away when he looked up and stared at her. His eyes narrowed as he nodded an acknowledgement then nudged his companion and gestured in her direction.
The vampire's companion turned toward Faith. He was tall, and handsomely clean-cut, with short cropped, light brown hair. His eyes matched his slate gray suit and looked at her with a mixture of surprise and recognition.
"So she really is alive," the man in the suit murmured as his hand disappeared into his coat pocket.
Confused, Faith stared at the stranger, who seemed to recognize her. "Who…?" She then glanced at the vampire, suddenly remembering her stake. She reached into her handbag, but was too late.
The man in the gray suit drew out a rod, no bigger than a pen. quickly grazing her shoulder. She heard a crackling sound, and felt a sharp biting pain, then staggered backwards, colliding with the vampire and feeling his strong arms come up to catch her as she lost consciousness.
* * *
The first thing she saw upon waking was the man in the gray suit. Only now, he'd shed the coat and looked decidedly less formal in his rumpled and half-tucked white dress shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His gray eyes sharpened as they caught hers.
"She awakes," he said softly. His accented voice was low and vaguely familiar.
Faith attempted to sit up, but found she was tied to a bed. Straining against the ropes, she scanned her surroundings, noting that she appeared to be in a dimly-lit bedroom with sleek, expensive-looking furniture. All of the window shades were drawn down and slivers of light peeked out from the edges.
Her keeper sat in a chair a couple of feet away from the bed. She immediately noticed the pen-like rod in his shirt pocket.
"Where am I?" she demanded, still struggling with her restraints.
The man looked at her thoughtfully, rubbing the five o'clock shadow on his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "You're at my place," he replied as if it should have been obvious.
"And you are…?" There was a challenge in her voice.
The man arched an eyebrow. "I'm Cameron Grey."
Realization sunk in. "Hope's Watcher."
"Yes."
Faith swallowed hard in an attempt to dispel bitter taste from her mouth. "So I guess she told you…about me…"
Grey nodded. "Yes. I didn't believe her at first. She told me another Slayer had approached her…offered to help her… I thought it was just a vampire or demon, playing with her head. But then she recognized your picture—the one in the police database…" His eyes flickered over Faith's body, then rested on her face. "That mug shot really doesn't do you justice."
Faith turned away from him. "So what are you going to do with me?"
Gray paused, rose from his chair and stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. He turned to face the large dresser mirror opposite the bed and studied Faith's reflection in it. "That's a good question," he murmured and let out a slow, even breath. "The world believes you dead. I suppose I should call Travers…"
The name gave Faith a chill. "No. Don't. Please, not him."
He turned back to her abruptly. "Who then?"
"Giles," she breathed. "Call Rupert Giles…"
