Chapter 6: Ace in the Hole

A/N: As always, thanks to my wonderful betas!

Eric sat in his office chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. The bar was quiet; the sun had set only an hour ago and Fangtasia wouldn't open until 10pm, so no one else was there yet. It was also dark inside, as he hadn't bothered to turn on any of the lights. He just stared at his desk with unseeing eyes, too deep in thought to focus on any tangible object.

It had been almost 24 hours since the Slayer had walked through the front door of Fangtasia, and he was no closer in deciding how to handle the situation.

Before the Great Revelation, having a Slayer in one's territory was uncomfortable, but rarely was it cause for alarm. Whenever the girl was discovered in the vicinity, word was simply spread to give her a wide berth and her activities were monitored. Why stir the pot, especially when said pot was like a damned phoenix, rising again and again without end? It just wasn't worth the effort.

Once there was a rumor that a Slayer had been turned into a vampire, but Eric never heard anything after that, so he assumed that it wasn't true or didn't go as planned. Either way, he considered it a good thing.

To him, turning a Slayer seemed like a monumentally bad idea. As it was, there was the occasional vampire who couldn't accept their new life and eventually committed suicide. But the slayer, she was indoctrinated to loathe vampires with a religious fervor; her sole purpose was to kill as many as possible until one eventually got her. It would stand to reason, then, that turning one would only create a highly volatile and unstable yet extremely powerful creature.

No, it was better to stay off the radar altogether, using the glamour when possible and killing only when necessary, a rule by which most vampires abided. It was easy to stay hidden, too. In all his many years, Eric himself had never come across a Slayer. The world was a big place, and she was just one little girl who could only be in one place at a time. Besides, Slayers tended to focus on those mindless half-breed vampires and demons that lacked the intelligence and restraint to remain hidden from humans.

Now, however, there was no protocol on how to handle the Slayer, just as there was no indication of what she would do post-Great Revelation.

Before last night, he would have assumed that the Slayer would quickly ally herself with groups like the Fellowship of the Sun. It would be the logical progression, wouldn't it? He could see it now; the Slayer would become their savior, a hero bound by destiny to kill vampires. She would be their fucking Second Coming. And she would become his enemy. It would all be very dramatic.

Then the Slayer casually strolled into his bar and ordered a coke.

She wasn't at all what he expected. For one thing, she didn't try to kill him. She didn't even threaten him, not until she felt threatened herself. He doubted that it was because she was obeying the law; as if she, the Slayer, would feel compelled to follow human law any more than he did. But why then?

It was that 'why' that had him resist his initial impulse to order her out of his territory and even possibly kill her. Instead he waited for Chow and Pam and the information they would bring. Chow wouldn't be in for another hour or so; he was coming from Alexandria, which was a few hours away. Eric anxiously awaited his arrival. He would've sent his third in command there last night, but he never would've made it back before sunrise. Pam, on the other hand, would be in soon.

Pam found him sitting in the exact same position an hour later. She breezed into the office with an amused look, flicking on the lights before sitting in an empty chair. She immediately began speaking without preamble.

"Her name is Buffy Summers," she said, arching one delicate eyebrow at this but making no further comment. "Up until recently, she resided on a Hellmouth in California. As you know, most of our kind stays away from Hellmouths, so information on her is scarce. The Sheriff of Southern California sends her regards, by the way."

The implication was not lost on Eric. Under normal circumstances, he would owe Beatrice a small favor for this; however, the Sheriff of Southern California hadn't told him that the Slayer was moving into his territory. While none of his kind kept tabs on the Slayer, per se, a good Sheriff would know when the girl moved and notify the appropriate vampire authority out of common courtesy. Therefore, he and Beatrice were more or less even, and this was her way of telling him.

"She's been the Slayer for at least 7 years and apparently she's quite good. Beatrice said that the half-breed problem has been almost negligible in Southern California, thanks to her," Pam continued. "In fact, they think she stopped the half-breeds from opening the Hellmouth and releasing their demon counterparts."

Eric frowned at this. "That would've been disastrous. And Beatrice did nothing?"

"Beatrice and her people didn't know themselves until recently. They thought it was just the usual conflict between the half-breeds and the Slayer, and they had their hands full with the Great Revelation. Then the Hellmouth collapsed, taking the whole town with it. It took awhile to piece together what had happened," Pam explained.

"And why is this the first time we're hearing of it?" he asked, clearly not impressed with the Sheriff of Southern California.

"They have notified the King of Ohio, who has sent some of his people to monitor the Hellmouth in Cleveland more closely. It's all very embarrassing for Beatrice, though, so she's trying to keep it as quiet as possible," Pam smirked, sharing Eric's disdain for California's sloppy work. "Within reason, of course."

Eric nodded, temporarily mollified by this. He would think about that later; for now he wanted to focus on the subject at hand. "What else do we know about the Slayer?"

"Beatrice did say that there was talk that she allied herself with some half-breeds. Some even believed that there was this great love affair between the Slayer and a vampire," Pam said skeptically.

Eric's eyebrows went up at this. "Is there any truth to this?"

Pam shrugged. "There was some anecdotal evidence, but nothing concrete. Personally, I wouldn't put too much stock in it. They also thought that she had died at one point, but obviously that wasn't true," she said wryly.

"Still, it makes one wonder how the rumors got started in the first place," he mused, becoming more and more interested as the conversation went on. "Where in town is she staying?"

Pam had a pained expression on her face. "Do you know how many Annes are staying in Shreveport right now?" she said. At his pointed look, she rolled her eyes and replied, "She's over at the Shreveport Motel under the name Anne Alexander. And she's been making inquiries about her friend."

Eric expected this. He had considered running interference at the hotels, but, at this point, he wanted as few people involved as possible, especially humans. They were so unreliable, and the last thing he needed was to raise everyone's suspicions and consequently the Slayer's as well.

"Have there been any disappearances, any vampires unaccounted for since the Slayer arrived?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat. This was crucial.

Pam hesitated, a rare occurrence for her. "No, not exactly," she said slowly. "But Amelia came to me today as soon as the sun set with some interesting news. She's out in the bar, waiting to speak with you. I'll go fetch her." Pam quickly rose to her feet and stepped out of the office.

A few minutes later, Pam came back with a pretty brunette in tow. Amelia was a fairly young vampire, only about fifty years old. She still felt ties to humans and was trying to coexist peacefully with them. She had heard of Eric's own efforts to mainstream – at least in appearance – so she came seeking permission to stay in Shreveport, which he granted. In return, she came to Fangtasia at least once a week to play nice with the tourists.

Eric instantly noticed that Amelia was walking gingerly. Then he focused sharply on the wounds on her wrists; he could smell the burnt flesh. She nodded to him in deference before carefully lowering herself to the empty seat. Pam took the seat next to her and waited.

"What happened?" Eric demanded, immediately assuming that the Slayer did this. Why else would Pam bring Amelia in to discuss this now? His thoughts turned deadly.

"Drainers, late last night in the park," Amelia replied tersely. "They had silver nails." She held up her wrists so Eric could see the gaping holes.

Eric was momentarily taken aback; he was not expecting this answer. Then his eyes narrowed. In his mind, all Drainers had death warrants over their heads, and he was judge, jury, and executioner.

"Are they still alive?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes," Amelia confirmed bitterly. Though she still considered herself a Mainstreamer, she had her limits. "Another human, a girl, came and prevented me from getting to them."

The Slayer. So she was there after all. And she was protecting the Drainers. Yet here Amelia was, neither staked nor drained. Not much surprised Eric anymore, but this Slayer was doing just that. Over and over again. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Eric sat up in his chair. "Tell me everything," he ordered.

"The Drainers were attacking. I had just managed to throw them off when the girl showed up and held me down. She was going to stake me," Amelia said, growling at the memory. "They stopped her, though, and that's when she realized that they were after my blood. She said that she wasn't going to let them kill me just for money and that she was going to save me. It seemed to pain her a great deal." She grinned at this.

"So she subdued the Drainers and then freed you," Eric said slowly. He looked to Pam, who merely shrugged. Apparently, she was at a loss to explain this bizarre situation, too.

Amelia nodded. "Quite easily, too. She was strong, abnormally so. I would've thought she was high on our blood if it wasn't for the fact that she had no idea about it," she said hesitantly, tempted to ask some questions about this girl that the Sheriff was obviously interested in.

Amelia tried to stay out of vampire affairs as much as possible, but she was curious. And the girl did save her, however reluctantly. To both her relief and disappointment, Eric didn't give her the chance to ask anything further.

"Can you track these Drainers down?" he asked, purposefully changing the subject.

A small smile curled her lips. "Yes."

"Already working on it," Pam cut in, her eyes sparkling with anticipation at the arrival of their guests of honor.

He sat back with a satisfied smile. "Good. Thank you, Amelia." It was an obvious sign of both appreciation and dismissal.

Amelia understood and quietly left the room.

Eric barely registered her departure; his mind was too busy absorbing all this new information. The Slayer was a mystery, a paradox. His curiosity about her was overwhelming, silencing any reservations he should have had. Still, he wanted to move cautiously; his actions could have a far-reaching impact on all vampires. It could also give him a very rare opportunity. The question was, an opportunity for what?

Pam shut the door and sat down, studying Eric closely for a few moments. She knew her maker all too well.

"Is collecting feisty blondes going to become a new hobby of yours?" she asked dryly. Then she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I've always wanted a doll collection."

"I wouldn't start knitting matching outfits just yet," he said mildly, to which Pam made a face. "But it seems that we may have some interesting possibilities before us."

"If she doesn't go on a killing rampage when she finds out-" Pam was interrupted by a knock on the door.

She pursed her lips in amusement as Eric held up his hand to quiet her.

"Enter," he called out.

The door opened and Chow walked in. Eric nodded to him, but his eyes were fixed on the redhead walking behind him.

"Hello, Violet," Eric greeted her calmly.

"Hi," she said, biting her lip nervously, unsure of why he wanted to see her.

"I think you left out a few important details about your former life," he said mildly. "Such as your association with Buffy Summers, the Slayer?"

Vi gave him a weak smile. "Uh, oops?"