Chapter 5
The Limo
Funny thing. Clytemnestra elected not to stand around and let me rip off her head. In our mortal days, she was gigantic, which meant she was about 5'6", still a good deal taller than my 5'1".
And, she had the strength of an ancient master vampire.
I still managed to grab her arm, and we wrestled around a bit, but she was able to use her superior arm length to keep me away, and she managed to get a good hold on my hair and ram me head first into the nearest brick wall.
It hurt. And it distracted me while she threw me into the cement wall on the opposite side of the alley.
If I'd been heavier, I would have gone through the wall. As it was, I left a nice crack in it as I bounced off. In fact, I think I may have blacked out for just a second, and when I opened my eyes again, the demon in my half sister's body had hightailed it.
Maybe Anne needed my help after all.
I walked out of the alley and into the nearest street. It took me a few seconds to get my bearings, and, not having anything else to do, and not having any idea where Clytemnestra was, I decided I might as well go home.
So much for staying out of trouble, and not being a hero. Fortunately, no one had seen me, so I figured I'd be good to go back to work the next day. I figured I would try to catch Anne on break and warn her that a very ancient master vampire was in town, and was probably gunning for her. I really didn't have much use for watchers (the very pragmatic and cold men and women who "trained" and "watched over" slayers), but hopefully he, or she, would be of help to Anne. Slayers tended to do well against rank and file vampires, but not so hot against master vampires.
Me, on the other hand, I've taken down a few master vampires in my time. None as old as the thing that wore my sister's body (couldn't exactly say she was wearing my sister's face any more, though), but I was pretty confident I could take her down. Maybe the best thing for me to do was to follow Anne, and be ready.
Assuming that Clytemnestra didn't decide to get out of town.
While I was preoccupied with thoughts of hated half sisters turning into demons, I failed to notice the limo slow down beside me as I walked along the street. But I did notice when the window slid down, and a handsome but arrogant looking kid in a suit looked out at me.
"Helen, right?" the man said.
Geez. Someone else who knew who I was?
"Rhonda," I corrected. "And you are?"
"Lindsey McDonald," the kid said. "I represent Wolfram and Hart."
"I have nothing to say to those three geezers (yes, the Wolf, Ram, and Hart were even older than me, so I could call them geezers without irony)," I said. "Take a hike."
"I'm in the car, you're walking," McDonald said. "And who are the three geezers?"
"So, you're just a flunky," I said.
"Flunky?" he replied, clearly on the verge of laughing. "Excuse me, but you're a waitress."
I could have told him that I was only a waitress because I chose to be, but I figured I'd already shared enough with a flunky.
"So, are you just being a creepy stalker, or is there an official reason for this conversation?" I asked.
"A client who says he's your brother wishes to talk to you," McDonald said. "And you're right. I'm a flunky. I don't know who he is, or who you are. Frankly, I don't care. I only care about doing my job. If you know who my employers are, you know why I can't fail."
Crap. I went to Los Angeles to not get noticed, and I ended up precipitating a dysfunctional family reunion.