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Jane eyed the new librarian as he nervously approached her. His demeanor reminded her a lot of Mr. O'Neill, except he was a lot older, and wore glasses and a tweed coat.
"Miss Jane Lane?" he asked hesitantly. Jane nodded in confirmation. "My name is Rupert Giles, and I was hoping I could have a word with you."
Jane nodded and followed along behind him resignedly.
He led her to the library, where he sat her down. "What do you know about vampires?" he began.
"Avoid the sparkly ones?" she replied, shrugging.
Giles cracked a rueful grin. "Real vampires, Miss Lane."
"About as much as I know about real leprechauns."
Giles sighed, removed his glasses and began polishing them. Another difficult Chosen One.
"Miss Lane...in every generation, there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer."
Jane stared at him for a long moment before nodding. "You're from my brother, right?"
"Your brother? No, I -"
Jane leaned forward and ran her hand up Giles' thigh. "Want me to play with your stake?" she asked in a throaty voice.
Giles leapt up, recoiling from Jane. "What are you DOING, Miss Lane?" he almost shouted.
"Don't mess around, Mr. Giles. I know my brother must have sent you. You must have already paid him, right? Come on..." She gave her best imitation of an alluring smile. "You know you want it."
Giles was fuming. "I most certainly do NOT want it, Miss Lane. And I'd be very much interested in hearing the breadth of your brother's activities."
Jane suddenly looked very small and frightened. "Uh...I should go..." She attempted to make a run for it, but Giles' hand wrapped around her wrist like a vise.
"Please, Miss Lane. I insist."
XXXX
Trent awoke with a sputter and a yelp as the cold water splashed over his head. He looked around and saw that he was in what appeared to be a wooden shed with a dirt floor. Moonlight shone through the cracks in the walls.
In front of him stood a man with an empty bucket in one hand. "Ah, good, you're awake," he said. His voice sent chills through Trent's spine.
"Who the hell are you?" Trent snarled.
"My name...well, my name is unimportant, but you may call me Ripper."
"What the hell kind of name is that?"
'Ripper' grinned. "You're about to find out.