Chapter 7

They rode up the hotel elevator in silence. Trish could feel the tension rolling off her brother. When they reached her room, she took out her keycard. "Good night, Rupert."

He raised an eyebrow, plucked the keycard out of her hand, opened her door and gently shoved her into her room. "We have to talk."

"Here? Now?"

"Yes, here and now. That way you can't leave before we're done. Sit down," he said motioning to the foot of the bed. He went to the minibar and took out several bottles of liquid fortification. He opened the scotch first and downed the contents in one gulp. "How long have you been staking vampires?"

"A little while," she said vaguely.

"How long?"

"About a year and a half," she said and watched him down the gin. "I always take spare stakes and my cross. I don't take stupid risks."

His eyes flashed. "Chasing after vampires alone is, by definition, a stupid risk." He took a deep breath. "How did you find out about vampires?"

"Well, it started when you went to Sunnydale," she said noticing the odd look on his face. "Oh come on, Rupert. You left a prestigious position at the British Museum to become a high school librarian in California. That's not exactly a typical career move."

He looked somewhat self-conscious, and she continued, "So I did a little research and found out that Sunnydale was once known as 'Boca del Infierno' or the hellmouth."

His eyes widen at that piece of knowledge.

"You phoned Mum once just after you got settled in Sunnydale. I overheard her ask about a Slayer."

"I'm sure you misheard," Giles said and finished the small bottle of vodka.

"In each generation, there is a Chosen One," Trish recited softly looking at the floor. "She and she alone will fight the demons, the vampires and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer."

Giles exhaled loudly like he had been punched in the chest. She could feel his eyes on her waiting for an explanation.

"It's amazing what one can find on the Internet and in the basement of a university library," she shrugged. "Anyway, I found a reference to something called the Watcher Council which tweaked a memory."

"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"Remember when you came home just before you went back to Oxford? Well, I overheard you and Daddy talking in his study. He said something about him being a watcher and Granny being a watcher and by God one of his children would be a watcher. Before I could hear anymore, Mum found me, took me for a walk and gave me a little lecture about eavesdropping."

"Which you obviously took to heart," Giles commented then sighed. "So much for trying to protect you."

"Did you or Mum ever think that maybe I didn't need protecting?"

"You were 5 years old!"

"But I'm not now! Don't I deserve to know about my family history?"

"Perhaps we shouldn't have kept it from you for so long," Giles admitted as he leaned against the dresser, "but your mum and I wanted you to be able to choose your own destiny and not be a slave to tradition."

"Like you?"

"I made that choice."

"But maybe it would have been the right choice for me."

Giles thought it over for a moment then gave a little laugh. "Then maybe I'd have been a grocer."

Trish tilted her head. "Or a fighter pilot."

"Or a rock star," Giles smiled then sat beside her on the bed. "Look, I realized that I can't stop you from going after vampires, but please be careful, or as the Slayer once put it, 'be way extracurricular with it.'"

Trish took in his pleading gaze. "Okay, I promise. So, she said trying to changing the topic, you're going to meet your friends tomorrow? How scared should I be?"

"I'm not going to lie to you," he said. "If they say we may be in danger, we shouldn't take the warning lightly. Fortunately, they're very good at what they do. If anyone can help us, it's them. Try to get some sleep. We'll deal with it in the morning."