Buffy smoothed down the skirt of her dress again, trying to remember the last time she had dressed so—so regally. It surely had been a while, she realized. Probably her wedding, she guessed, since she hadn't done any high-profile undercover work since Beth had been born. So it felt a little weird being dressed so elegantly again. Not that she hadn't had fun going shopping and burning a hole through the Council's credit card to find something good enough to wear to meet Vincenzo. Apparently, anything less than formal wear in his presence was unacceptable, weirdly enough. She was getting the impression he was a snobby vampire who had probably complained every time he got blood on his shirt when he had killed his victims. Or maybe he had mastered slaughtering impeccably.
The car pulled up in front of a large gate and a buzzer rang before the gate swung open ominously. Vincenzo lived on a sprawling property just outside of Rome, far away enough from wandering eyes. He was still trying to maintain a low profile after all. According to the demon world, he was dead and it wouldn't do good for his image to be found still kicking, living under the rules of the Council. The Sons of Cain were infamous for their ruthlessness and power; being ruled by something seen as lesser wasn't a good look for them.
The grounds were cleanly kept, and she wondered who kept it up, since vampires couldn't exactly go outside during the day. Maybe they were night gardeners. She hadn't been told much about Vincenzo's men, as Giles didn't know much about them to begin with. Apparently the Council hadn't been as concerned with the "little guy." He had said they were fiercely loyal, but that was the way of the Cain vampires. As long as she didn't get stake-happy, everything was supposed to go smoothly.
The house has gargantuan, a stone castle reaching up toward the overcast sky. It was almost as large as the Slayer Academy and was likely hosting almost as many women, if the rumors of Vicenzo's harem were anything to go by. It was less inviting though, but maybe that had less to do with look and more with the fact that she knew there was a very powerful vampire in there. Angel had apparently caught wind of what she was doing (probably Spike calling up to complain about how headstrong his wife was while he got drunk. Again.) and had actually forbidden her from going. She had laughed at him, telling him that she was already in Rome and not like she cared what he thought anyway. When was the last time she listened to him? Stupid vampire. When he realized the futility, he'd gone off telling her all the things that she had to be careful about. Vincenzo was a volatile one, he was proud and not merciful of insults, blah blah blah—basically everything Giles had said. She asked how he knew so much about a vampire he'd never met, and when he didn't answer with anything intelligent, she pulled a Spike and told him to "bugger off." She always got such creative insults from that man.
The car stopped in front of the house and she peered out the window to see a man dressed in black standing under the archway beside the door, eyes on the car. Her vampire senses were on the fritz, but she was also pretty sure the driver that had picked her up was a vampire too. It was nearly eight now, so she wouldn't be shocked.
The driver stepped out and opened the door for her. She stepped out carefully, holding her head high. She was, after all, the longest-lived slayer, the thing that went bump in the night for demons, and she sure as hell wasn't afraid of a vampire subjected to driving cars for the rest of his unlife.
"Miss Summers," The vampire at the door greeted with a bow. Giles had opted not to mention she was married, mostly out of concern that it might lead toward a conversation about Spike, something that was said to be avoided at all costs. While she didn't know how much Vincenzo knew about the younger Aurelians, the two lines still hated each other something fierce and since the Scourge was the notorious group that took over after the Sons, it was likely there was were some bitter feelings. Besides, the last thing she wanted was for him to get curious about her daughter. Beth wasn't to be mentioned at all; after all the trouble the Council had gone through to keep Beth and her condition hush-hush, she wasn't going to blow it by a side comment to an old vampire.
"Vampire," she greeted chirpily, a glint in her eye. While she wasn't going to break the treaty by starting a fight, it didn't mean she couldn't intimidate.
The vampire seemed to understand that though, as he only regarded her coolly. "This way," he said, opening the door and indicating that she should follow him. The front entrance was grand, well-lit and decorated with old things she was sure were supposed to be a display of wealth. She perused the hall, mostly looking for escape routes, but also taking time to look over all the oil paintings on the walls. Most of them were of women, though there was one of a man wearing armor that was done as a wall scroll. It caught her attention mainly because the rest were more renaissance type and the contrast of style attracted the eye. It looked old too and she bet, considering how old the vampire was, it had seen a lot.
"In here," the vampire told her, pulling her away from the paintings. He had pushed a door open, allowing the light to spill through. She stepped through the door, coming into a dining room. The table was a dark wood and long, much longer than she suspected it needed to be. Most of the seats were bare, save two at the end. One for Buffy (she assumed) and another from the man currently sitting at the head of the table.
Vampire, she reminded herself as he looked up and smiled at her. She wouldn't lie, he was attractive. Much more so than his picture depicted (not like she'd let anyone know that. Okay, maybe Beth, but that was between girls. Slayer girls). He was dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, and stood up to walk over to her.
"Signorina Summers," Vincenzo greeted, taking one of Buffy's hands and placing a kiss upon it. She was seriously starting to doubt what Andrew said about Rubio being the ladies' man. It seemed his elder already had it down pat with the charm.
"Master Vincenzo," she greeted in return, even throwing in a curtsey for good measures. She figured she might as well schmooz a little, get all the information she needed out of him, and then never see him ever again. Because although he was a vampire, he was also male and boy did Buffy understand men (tricks she planned on someday teaching her own daughter; hey, a girl needed whatever she could to get around in the world).
"I was quite surprised to hear from Signor Giles that I would be given the chance to bask in the presence of the great Buffy Summers," he began, guiding her toward the plates on the table. "I have heard much about you, Signorina, and I will say that I am impressed. Your conquering goes unparalleled. Let me say that I am happy to never have to meet you on the battlefield."
"Do you flatter ever slayer you get the chance to meet like that?" she asked, taking a seat.
He chuckled. "I cannot say I've had the chance to meet many slayers," he admitted. "I feel that it quite obvious though, seeing as I am alive."
"I was told you signed the treaty with the Council to avoid the slayers."
He nodded. "Yes. While I knew we would likely escape a few, eventually one would get us. The slayers are tenacious like that, wouldn't you agree?"
"Can't say I ever let an enemy get away," she agreed.
He smiled slyly at her, like he knew something she didn't. "Memories can lie to us sometimes," he replied. He unfolded his napkin, laying it out on his lap. She did the same and soon someone walked through another door, placing a bowl of soup in front of each of them. Another came and filled their glasses with a red substance (please be wine).
"I didn't think many vampires ate," she admitted, more than a little perturbed to see him taking a sip of the soup. She'd only ever seen Spike eat as a vampire, but he wasn't exactly normal, was he? Then again, Vincenzo wasn't your standard, factory-built vampire either.
"I felt it would make you more comfortable," he told her. "Whenever I so choose to dine with my women, the atmosphere is more stiff when I do not eat along with them."
His women. His harem. Right. "Oh," was all she said.
"Now, I was told you came down here for business," he started, dabbing his chin with his napkin. "I was not told what business it was, only that it was urgent."
"It's about your childe," she began and he sighed.
"I assure you, whatever Rubio has done, he means no harm. He hardly ever thinks before he acts, but he is no more a threat than I am. I would even argue he's less of a threat," he said.
"Um, no," she replied. "This isn't about Rubio. It's about Luther."
The atmosphere noticeably shifted in the room and the waiter that had been standing against the wall waiting for an order quietly excused himself. Vincenzo himself seemed to stiffen, looking more like a corpse than a vampire normally did. Now she knew what he meant about the whole eating thing.
"Why," was all he said. It wasn't a question, or at least it wasn't spoken like one.
"I was told he disappeared somewhere in Russia and you assumed him dead," she started.
"I did," he cut in. "I felt him go. It's hard to explain, but I felt the same thing when my own sire went. We vampires, we're tied together. These family lines allow us to reach out for one another, or at the very least be comforted by the knowledge that we are not alone in this unforgiving world. It right after the Finnish War. He was feeling confined here with me and wished to go out and experience history, as he said. I was suspicious, as he had never been interested in human events, but I saw no point in forcing him to stay here. Shortly after, I lost him. To me, he is dead."
"Is it possible he could have shut you out and not died?" she inquired and he shot her a sharp look.
"I understand your task is to only kill vampires, but there is more to us than you give us credit for," he snapped. "I do not know what your beloved Watcher's Council told you, but we Sons of Cain hold family lines above all else. You do not become a Son of Cain by shirking your ties to your sire and childe. Luther knew that; I taught him myself as my Sire taught me before him. He would not simply cut me out."
Even with the venom in his voice, Buffy was starting to feel like he was trying to convince himself more than her. Something told her Luther had been the rebellious middle child, looking for his place in the world.
"Well, there's a vampire out in Washington State claiming to be a Son of Cain," she explained. "He goes by the name of James and unless Rubio sired someone—"
"I would know about that," he interrupted again, looking troubled. He had visibly calmed down, but there was a storm growing in him now, this one not aimed at Buffy. "How can you know it is not false? Anyone could claim the title in hopes of gaining the power and respect that comes with it. Can you even comprehend the notoriety that comes with being a Son of Cain? Our reign was well before your time, but there are books on us."
"That's what I came to figure out," she told him. "I want to know about Luther so I can find out if this guy's a copycat or not. We don't know how big of a threat he could be to us now."
He sighed, looking worn out. "Luther was…he was a brute, to put it simply. There was no art or skill to what he did, he simply bashed things over the head. He handled matters with little finesse. He was violent in nature, something I had not noticed when I chose him as my heir."
"You don't seem very proud of him," she noted.
"It was not my way," he put simply. "Even Rubio, in all his wild ways, possessed more tact than Luther. I feared how Luther would fend in the new world I signed us into; I did not think he would adjust well. He was the most disgruntled about the treaty. I did it out of necessity and adjusted accordingly. Rubio took things as they came; he had no qualms with the treaty. Luther, though, did not like feeling chained. He knew its purpose, but that did not mean he didn't rebuke it when he could. I let him leave in hopes that he would find his place in the world. Maybe death was better for him."
His eyebrows drew together, and he looked deep in thought. "He had said something strange to me before he left," he admitted. "I hadn't taken much consideration to it at the time, but he had asked me if I had ever tried to circumvent the treaty. Now, before you start brandishing your stake at me, Signora Summers, let me tell you that I had no interest in doing such."
"You mean you wouldn't look for a way out of this treaty if you could?" she asked skeptically.
He shot her a rueful smile. "If I could do so without risking the wrath of you and the Council, of course I would. I won't pretend to be what I'm not. But I knew the Council; if they saw us working loopholes, they'd sign our death warrants and send slayers after us. I signed the treaty to prevent our demise. I have no desire to invoke their wrath.
"But for Luther? I cannot say he would not have chosen differently. If he found a way around the treaty, he might have used that to his advantage. But for me to lose him as I did? That would require much more power than he possessed."
She was beginning to get the impression that as much as Vincenzo might stress the importance of vampiric family loyalty, he wasn't as sold on Luther's. "But if he didn't die?" she pressed. "If he's just been hiding out all these years?"
He was quiet a moment, contemplating the wine in his glass. He swished the liquid before taking a drink and putting the glass down. "Then I can only imagine one reason he would choose to escape me. And, because of that, if this James of yours turns out to be Luther, I say there is only one way to deal with him."
"And what's that?"
"Kill him."
-.-
Buffy left the house late in the night, fighting off sleep in the car that drove her back to her hotel. She wasn't sure how comfortable she felt knowing that a bunch of vampires all knew where she was staying, but she was too tired to refuse the ride and call a cab. Besides, the cabby had picked her up at her hotel; it was too late to get weird about it now.
Vincenzo had told her what he wanted to about Luther over dinner. He hadn't answered all her questions, asserting that even a vampire that had given up as much as him deserved his few secrets. She didn't pursue the matter, figuring it wasn't worth it. After all, she had more than enough first-hand information about how Luther was as a person. And though while his modus operandi didn't fit James', it made sense in terms of the treaty. If he did anything to break it—say, kill someone—the Council would have known and likely found him. If he wanted to lay low, he had to play by the rules. Or, at least, play around them. Vincenzo had off-handedly mentioned a way to get around the treaty: if the person was already dead, killed by another vampire not considered to be bound under the same contract as Luther was, then Luther could still maintain his lifestyle to a certain degree. If James was hiring lackeys outside his family, he could use them to kill people. And, more importantly, if he used other vampires to drain people first, he could then turn them, circumventing the treaty's rules. It that context, it made sense why James had killed the vampire that had killed the slayer all those decades ago; a dead slayer would equate to retribution on the Council's end, and far too much attention. All in all, if Luther really was doing all of that, he would probably make a good lawyer. It gave her some suspicions about Vincenzo though; clearly he'd thought about it, no matter how much he claimed he wanted to "play by the Council's rules."
He also gave some notes about where Luther might be hiding out. He apparently liked to live well, probably finding some nice, fancy schmancy mansion to hole up in (she was damn tired of vampires and mansions). That didn't narrow the search down too much, as there were plenty of nice lake houses in the Seattle area and around Bellevue, but it was a start. If she could somehow trail a vampire back to his place, she'd be able to confront him herself. Vincenzo assured her that if she took care of Luther, it would not be considered in violation of the treaty. He gave her his blessing, essentially. Even if he didn't admit to it, he was angry over what could possibly turn out to be a betrayal by Luther. Vincenzo obviously cared very heavily for the rules put forth by his vampire ancestors and this blatant flaunting Luther might be doing was too much for the vampire. She half-expected him to come back with her, promising to take care of the wayward vampire himself.
The car pulled up in front of the hotel, something she was grateful for. Now she could sleep and then prepare for her flight tomorrow, ready to share what she got with Giles.
-.-
Buffy got back to her house a few days later, late at night. She'd done a debriefing with Giles back in Scotland at the Council and he was just as disappointed with what Vincenzo had said as much as Buffy was. Outside of a few ways in which Luther could be using a few loopholes in the treaty, there was little she had gotten from him, leaving her to return home feeling no closer to figuring this out than before. It was disappointing to say the least.
She had opted to take a cab home, knowing Spike and Beth should be out patrolling at this point anyway. Besides, she wanted to sit down on her nice, comfy couch before she got bombarded with incessant questions.
She barely got her suitcase through the door before she was swallowed in a cacophony of noise, of which she was eventually able to hear as questions. All revolving around her visit. Beth's were more about what Vincenzo was like and what he could tell her about the Sons, while Spike's were more jealous-husband questions (she was outright ignoring anything that so much as hinted toward Vincenzo using his charms on her).
"Can I sit first please?" she asked and the two backed away.
"Of course," Beth piped up first, leading her mother to the couch and then proceeding to sit down right next to her. "So, how'd it go?"
She shot her daughter a withering look before sighing. "Give me a moment. My flight got delayed and during the layover, I got my ear talked off by an old lady about her seventeen cats—" seventeen? Beth mouthed at her dad "—and so I am very tired of hearing people talking right now. Spike, be a dear, and get me something to drink."
He nodded, heading toward the kitchen.
"So," Buffy began, turning to look at Beth, "did anything happen while I was gone?"
Beth and Spike had decided it was in both their best interests not to mention the Drusilla incident to her, at least not until she was on her death bed (and maybe not even then; death didn't tend to stick with that woman). "Oh, Dad and I did some patrolling," she explained in a lazy tone. "We killed some things, maimed others. You know, the usual."
Maybe her tone was too casual, since Buffy gaze her an odd look. Thankfully though, Spike came to the rescue, coming back with some canned tea for her mother to drink.
"Don't know how you two drink that stuff," he commented as Buffy let out a content moan. "Tastes like shite."
"Don't be so British," Buffy told him, taking another sip of her tea, purchased made and ready to be refrigerated. "Not all tea has to be made in a kettle at home."
He gave her an incredulous look and snorted.
"Okay, so he can say 'shite' but I can't?" Beth whined.
"Adult," he reminded her.
"Language," Buffy retorted, shooting him a pointed look. She finished her tea, putting her can down on the coffee table (which often lacked coffee). "I guess you want to hear what I learned," she started.
"Well, schyeah," Beth replied with a roll of her eyes. "Was it cool meeting him?"
"Not important," Spike interrupted. "Did he do anything?"
"That's important?" Buffy asked dryly and he nodded profusely. Cue another eye roll.
"Vincenzo was a gentleman and it was pretty cool when he started telling me about the fall of the Roman Empire. I never really cared for history much, but he made it interesting. Now can I get to the reason why I actually went."
"Is James Luther?" Beth inquired.
"Jury's still out," she admitted and both Beth and Spike groaned. She gave them a rehash of everything Vincenzo had told her, which wasn't a lot of what they didn't already know.
"So nothin'?" he asked. "Bloody good, he is. Lived with the bloke for how long an' can't tell us a damn useful thing?"
"I told him all we knew about James, which isn't very much, and he said that wasn't like Luther at all. Luther was very brutal and James is well…not," she explained. "Vincenzo did explain some ways in which Luther could get around the treaty and still live his normal lifestyle, but then James would be known as being bloodier than he is. James isn't known for that."
"But what if all the deaths are done by the other clans?" Beth questioned. "If he got the others to do it, he could go unseen."
"The other vampire clans already cause a lot of deaths," Buffy pointed out. "The clans are less trouble with James around now. It really doesn't add up and make four."
"So does this mean I don't need adult supervision to go patrolling again?" Beth asked, excited. She liked her parents enough, but having them trail along was getting annoying. She wanted some no-parents-allowed patrolling time with her friends.
"I don't think we should jump the gun on this," Spike cut in, always the concerned parent. "Not least 'til we know more about this bloke. He could still be dangerous."
"I agree," Buffy said, earning her a loud outcry from her daughter. "We still don't know. Maybe it is Luther acting on a low profile, waiting for the perfect time to attack. Vincenzo told me he wasn't at all happy with the treaty so no doubt he'd be itching to violate it in the most in-your-face way possible: killing a slayer."
"So I still can't go out on my own because this vampire may or may not be entirely vicious," Beth stated.
"Not much different from before, now is it?" Spike asked in reply.
"But it's not like I've gotten into any problems when I was out on my own," she pointed out. "Well, at least not James-related problems. The other problems, well, those aren't—"
"What other problems?" Buffy questioned, looking between Beth and Spike. "Have you been letting her out on her own?"
"What? No!" he hotly denied. When Buffy focused her laser-gaze on him, he crumpled a bit, trying to figure out how to word it so he got out with most of his limbs intact. "I mean, wasn't me who let her out! That one's on Willow!"
"And like I said, it wasn't a James-related problem, so I don't see what the big deal is," Beth added.
"What. Happened?" Buffy demanded to know.
Beth exchanged worried looks with her father before starting, "Well, while you were gone, Drusilla came int—"
"What about Drusilla?"
-.-
It was a really snazzy restaurant. Beth was coming to realize that if she let Jacob choose the venue, it ended up being really snazzy. She didn't even know there were that many snazzy places around Bellevue. Of course, she'd have never been caught dead in a place like this before. They'd have kicked her out on principle alone if she ever tried coming to one of these on her own. With Jacob, no, they nodded at him like they knew him, gave him the best table without him having to wait, and now Beth was beginning to wonder if "working in computers" was code for "I'm in the mafia." She didn't really have dreams of being a mob wife, though she had to admit it'd probably be really cool. She'd get to beat a lot of people up, though she wasn't much of a fan of the dark makeup. Maybe she could not do that?
Jacob though, always the gentleman, pulled out her chair, allowing her to sit. He claimed this restaurant had the best blanquette de veau he'd ever tasted, and though while Beth spoke many languages, she tried not to look too dumb when he uttered that with his stupid perfect French accent (she'd nodded in agreement too, because food with the word "blanket" in it had never steered her wrong before).
"So, um, what do you suggest?" she asked, her mind boggling at all the French words. Good lord, would it kill a place to have a burger? Some fish and chips? Hell, she'd kill for haggis because at least she recognized that word.
"I think you may like the steak tartare," he told her with a smile, like he was in on a joke she wasn't.
Instead of asking what it was, she just nodded, putting down her menu and letting him pick out the wine. Another thing he had going for her: no one ever carded him at any of the restaurants he picked out, even though he sure wasn't old enough to be twenty-one (another point towards mafia).
They chatted amicably enough, Beth talking about how her father's ex came back into town and how her mother made a business trip regarding slayer business. Even though Jacob knew her mother dealt with vampires and the like, she opted not to tell him how her mother got to talk to some old-as-dirt vampire about another old-as-dirt vampire. She thought he might find in intriguing, but also didn't want to explain why her mother had to talk to him. Instead, she told him it was to go and kill a demon in Finland (half of the Finnish population was demonic anyway, so it wasn't a suspicious lie).
"Fascinating," he said when she finished her tale about her mother's fake adventure chasing after a fake demon that had similar characteristics to the Abominable snowman. "Have you ever gone on one of these outings?"
"No," she admitted. "I definitely wasn't allowed when I was a child and now that I'm a slayer, I have to wait until I complete training to get called out for a mission like that. My mum always brought me back souvenirs though, so I was happy."
"What did she get you this time?" he inquired.
"Er, well, she was mainly out in the wilderness the whole time, so she wasn't able to get anything," she lied. "Besides, I've just about run out of shelf space."
He chuckled. "Well, I guess we'll have to buy more. I plan on letting my girl see the world. Sounds exciting, doesn't it?"
Traveling, yes. The term "my girl?" Well, that let loose a bunch of raccoons in her stomach, throwing a mixer (with alcohol) in the organ. "Oh, mm-hm," she agreed, her eyes drawn to the waiter as he brought out their food, her conversation with Daniel replaying in her head. She was relieved to get out of that conversation before he started talking about that whole "my" thing again.
Turns out, the steak tartare was raw meat. Her stomach didn't roil like some people's likely would have at the prospect of eating raw beef, but she still wasn't too keen on it (she was also wondering if maybe she had some friends in similar boats out in France; she'd never gone to check).
"Try it before you make any decisions," he told her with a grin, already beginning to eat his cooked food.
"Is it safe?" she asked, poking the red meat with her fork. She knew it wasn't lady-like, but who gave a damn? Maybe she drank blood, but raw meat was another beast all together (no matter how many jokes about it she'd heard before).
"Here? Of course," he assured. "Besides, what's the point of your slayer immunity if you don't put it to the test?"
Since he did have a point, she decided she'd give it a go and took a bite. It wasn't bad and the seasoning was good, but it was weird eating raw meat. The feeling must have reflected on her face, since he let out a hearty laugh, attracting the attention of the nearby restaurant patrons. The wait staff didn't bother though, keeping their eyes to themselves.
"I take it you don't like it," he said once his laughter died down enough to let him speak.
"It's not bad," she hedged. "Different."
"Get used to different," he told her with a wink (who the hell did that anymore?). "I'll show you all kinds of different. Different you've only dreamed of."
Maybe this was a good time to bring up her heritage, because boy was that some "different" she could show him.
"I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable with all this talk about the future," he said softly.
"Oh no, it's fine," she blurted out before her mind could scream noooo!
"Good," he said, smiling in relief. "It's just that, well, I've never met someone like you. And I've certainly have never felt so strongly about someone as I do you. You've made me think more long-term. When I see my future, I've started to see you in it."
Oh crap. Back-up, back-up. They were entering into dangerous territory. She was still trying to figure out how to tell him about her quirky heritage; the future wasn't even in her sights until that got figured out—that was a whole other beast. And while she had fought many a beast, this was not one she wished to tackle now, especially not with him. There were sirens going off in her head, and yet she did nothing to pull the conversation onto another track. She just sat there, dumbly, as he continued to talk.
"And maybe this is too soon, but I've been sitting on it for a while—and I don't expect you to say it back!—but I really do love you, Beth." He paused for emphasis. "I love you."
Maybe he thought her absolute silence was that of good shock and not bad shock. He was still smiling at her as she stared at him, unblinking. It was supposed to be good shock, wasn't it? But no, it was bad shock. Like atomic bomb kind of bad. And maybe she was being dramatic, but he'd just dropped the "L" bomb on her and she was shell-shocked.
She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. There were sounds and words buzzing around in her head—and screaming, lots of screaming—but none of it coherent enough to utter to him. She saw sure the expectation was to say, "I love you, too," because that's how it happened in tv and in movies and in books. But those words weren't there; they never were.
Fuuuuuuuck. She should have asked her mom about this. Figured out what she did when her dad first admitted his love to her (although, her mom was chained up and Spike was like evil, so maybe the situation wasn't transferable).
"I-I can't," she finally got out and the ache that had existed in her stomach this whole time finally opened wide and swallowed her whole. Because sitting at this table, looking at him, and seeing all the glitz and glamour around her, his future promises ringing in her ears, she couldn't. She didn't. Not with him. Never with him. And she was realizing it could never be him. Because while she looked at him, she pictured someone else. Someone lanky and funny, who looked at her with such joy in his eyes, he made her think she could conquer the world, vampireness be damned. She wanted magic. She saw Jacob's expression fall; it was too late, and she was done lying to herself.
She did have one thing over her mother in this situation though: she got to leave at will. "I have to go," she said quickly, standing up and rushing for the door. Screw it if he'd been her ride here, she'd walk. She couldn't do this anymore. Maybe she was a bitch for running out on Jacob like that, but she couldn't pretend she had strong feelings toward him when it was somebody else she wanted. Someone else who made her heart burn in a way she never wanted to stop. Daniel had been right and it had been staring her in the face for far too long.
She had dated Jacob not because she really like him, but because they only other person she wanted was someone on the other side of the continent.
-.-
The front door slammed open, cracking the stained glass. Elwood looked up from the book he was skimming through (something or another about vampires; another hokey novel written by a lovestruck author—now, if they ever met him, he'd show them what a vampire was really about).
"James," Elwood noted, seeing his friend standing in the foyer, breathing when he didn't have to. He looked mad. No, he looked pissed. Smartly, Elwood chose to keep a good distance between himself and the raging vampire.
"She ran out on me," he hissed. "I was everything a girl could ever want and I said everything a girl would want to hear and she ran out on me."
Elwood blinked, not sure what was going on. "She?" he repeated, the only thing he actually understood.
"Yes, she," he barked, slamming his fist into a pillar, making it collapse and upsetting the support of the room. "The slayer!"
Elwood tried to look properly surprised. He'd skimmed bits and pieces about James' plan to deal with the slayers and it wasn't as if he was blind. He'd notice his friend leaving the house dressed nicely, returning with a smile on his lips and a hum in his tone. His memory was fuzzy, but he remembered back in their human days, when his friend was charming girls out of their skirts and courting ladies. James had adopted a much harsher technique once he courted vampires, but he'd heard around—especially from Alecto and Itzio- about how James had been trying to sire a paramour. Human women were so fickle sometimes.
"Oh, you met with the slayer?" Elwood asked.
"Oh, don't play dumb, Elwood," he snarled. "Stupidity doesn't look good on you."
"What do you want me to say?" he asked. "What did you expect, courting a slayer? I'm surprised you had the balls. Not many vampires dare such a thing. At least not those who respect themselves."
"I had a plan," he ground out.
Elwood nodded slowly. "I'm sure you did," he agreed. "But may I say, from a friend to another, was it a smart one?"
"Where's Charles?" James boomed, ignoring his friend's question. "I want him here now."
"He's in the study, like you asked him to be. Although, I don't think he's expecting you this soon. I told him it would be a while before you returned—but wait, I'm sure he heard your entrance. You weren't subtle about it."
"Charles!" James barked. He couldn't believe this. He actually couldn't believe this. Girls didn't say no to him, and especially not some odd ball like the youngest slayer, who likely only had creeps on her, never a real man. And forget that he hadn't been a real man in centuries! Not like she knew that.
"You called?" Charlie asked as he descended the stairs. James had worked himself up into a frenzy, over God only knew what, but he'd play it cool for now. No need to make him angrier than he already was.
"Yes," he seethed, beginning to pace the floor. "It seems my plan for the slayer have fallen through."
Charlie feigned shock. James wasn't known for his planning and when it came to the Beth he'd come to know, she'd no doubt throw a wrench into his plan without even realizing it. She was spontaneous like that. "Really?" he said. "Pity, sir. Sorry to hear that."
"As am I," James responded. He took a deep breath, reigning in his temper. It would do him no good to blow up in front of Charles, maybe even accidentally kill the vampire. He needed Charles now, in order to fix this. He always got what he wanted and no stupid treaty with the Council was going to stop him. "But I have a new plan. A better one. One that cannot fail."
Elwood actually snorted at that, shutting the book he was holding was a firm thump and walking out of the room. He really didn't need to hear this. While he loved his friend and had been elated to find out he was not dead as his sire and childe had thought, it didn't mean he still didn't think James was absolutely arrogant and pig-headed on occasion.
"A better one?" Charlie said, trepidation growing in him. Judging from the look on James' face, this wasn't going to end good for the many parties involved. But he knew that whatever it was James asked of him, he would do it; whatever he could do to get James and Beth to face off, he would do. He would do it for Vivien.
"Yes. You're close to the slayer, aren't you?"
A/N: Aha, the big reveal! Although I assume I was not nearly as sneaky about it as I had wished to be.