Angry at his father and resentful of his destiny, Giles has fled to London. Once again, you know the disclaimer drill. ~ Gruffy
CHAPTER 1
The bar was the seediest Rupert could find. Grimy, mildewed walls framed a carpet spotted with suspicious rust-red stains. At the bar, Giles brooded over his beer. The barman paid him no heed and Giles suspected that he was not the first to have sat here nursing a drink. Tasting it he recoiled in disgust and added to his pessimistic musings the idea that he was possibly not the first to have sat nursing this drink.
"You're new."
Giles had not heard anyone approach, and turned now to meet the piercing gaze of a young woman.
"So what's your business here?" she asked. "I haven't heard of any new vampires in town."
"I have no business with vampires" he answered coldly, turning back to his drink.
"You're human" she raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What is your business here?"
"I'm merely trying to have a drink." Giles replied pointedly.
"Nobody wanders into a place like The Crucible by mistake. Either you've a death wish......... or you're one of us"
His interest arrested despite himself, Rupert turned to look more closely at the woman. She was of slim build, with dark colouring and her voice when she spoke had a decidedly Gaelic inflection. There was nothing exceptional about her. Then his gaze met hers and he almost gasped aloud. Those were not eyes which saw only the physical. She bared her teeth in a disquieting grin at his reaction.
"I thought so. One beetle recognises another, right? I'm Deirdre Page"
"Rupert Giles" he responded, too distracted to consider the wisdom of giving his real name.
"Well, Rupert. There's someone here you should meet."
Not sure why, Giles followed Deirdre away from the bar, into a dark corner of the lounge. His eyes watered as he tried to make out anything in the dim smoke. He reached automatically for his glasses, then realised he'd left them behind at Oxford. Squinting, he made out the shape of a man sprawled on a cushioned bench.
"Hey, Rayne!" The man responded to Deirdre's call and moved into the light. He was about Giles' own age; of stockier build but Giles suspected somewhat shorter. "I brought someone to meet you; his name's Rupert."
"Like the teddy bear?" The young man sneered. Giles bristled but Deirdre Page just clucked her tongue.
"He's one of us Ethan. He was a human sittin' alone in this place and the vamps didn't go near him!"
"Look Dee, we're not the bloody AA. I've had enough of your charity cases, Randall's bad enough. Just because a chap can recognise the damn magicks doesn't make him worthy of our attention." He turned to Giles "Now run along back to whatever cave you came from and send my regards to-" Just at that moment his diatribe was cut short as a beer bottle smashed on the table. Holding the shattered remains was a glowering Fyarl demon.
"Oh shit!" Ethan raised his arms over his face as the demon swung the bottle down but the blow never made contact. Giles caught the demon's arm and with a grunt shoved him back, away from the others. Snarling, the Fyarl demon turned his attentions to the new target. He moved to deliver a crushing blow but Giles's training served him well. Ducking under it's arm he kicked the demon in the back. Its own momentum sent it crashing into the table. The table collapsed. Instinctively Giles reached for the mangled metal table leg, the end of which had torn at a sharp angle. As the demon moved to roll over Rupert, with a cry of hatred, plunged the metal spike straight through the demon's throat. The demon fell back, dead. Panting from exertion Giles rose and looked around. The other patrons of the pub were pretending to have seen nothing while Ethan and Deirdre regarded him with obvious respect.
"You're name's Rupert?" Ethan asked with new found interest. Giles nodded and Ethan grinned. "Ripper more like" he laughed. "Come on, Ripper. You're comin' home with us, mate." Giles paused for a moment, uncertain what to do. He imagined the look on his father's face if he knew his son had taken up with such obviously unsavoury people. The thought made him smile and with an uncharacteristic swagger in his walk, he followed Ethan Rayne out into the fog filled streets of London.
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