Xander stared at the computer monitor in shock at what he'd just read, which rapidly changed to horror as he clicked through multiple links to make sure it was correct and not just some random conspiracy theory or joke. "This can't be true," he whispered, eyes glued to the screen.
His vision went black at the edges for a few seconds as he realized it was all real… MTV no longer played music videos and instead concentrated on something called Reality Television, which was something so foul he actually felt a little sick to his stomach.
"For all his bad points… at least Mayor Wilkins protected us from this abomination," Xander said with a sigh, accepting his new reality and deciding he'd had enough internet for the day.
He wasn't sure the internet was all that accurate about the state of reality anyway, he'd had several popups from a site called Bornhub or Parnosub or something which if it was to be believed, indicated that young women's intelligence went way down when their parents remarried to the point where they kept getting stuck in things and needed help getting out. Apparently it was a common enough problem that there were a multitude of videos about it.
"Maybe they redesigned all the dryers?" Xander asked aloud before shaking his head and wondering if he had enough time left before the library closed to go on Youtube and watch some cat videos. He could catch up on everything he'd missed at another time when he was feeling better.
*Ding*
"The library is now closing," a voice came over the PA system.
"Or not," Xander said, hitting the button to close the browser and getting up to leave.
The warm night air was nice after the near refrigeration temperature of the library as he hopped in his car, wondering if he should grab a hotel room or try his luck in the next city.
He still hadn't made up his mind when he pulled into traffic and just a few seconds later a police car flashed its lights behind him. "Well shit," Xander said, pulling over, wondering what traffic law he'd broken.
The uniformed patrol officer asked, "Alexander Harris?" the moment he'd reached the window.
"Speaking," Xander replied without thinking about it.
"Officer Nicholson," the officer introduced himself. "We've got an occult crime scene we'd like you to look at if you have time. A family of four was killed just a few hours ago."
"You lead, I'll follow," Xander said instantly, starting his car.
The officer jogged back to his car and turned on the lights and sirens to clear traffic before pulling back onto the road, Xander following.
To Xander's surprise, they didn't end up at a warehouse, but rather a really rundown hotel.
It appeared to have been a Holiday Inn at some point before being converted to the Oakland Hills Hotel which seemed to have gone through a bit of an economic slump, as the peeling paint and a few boarded up windows showed.
Xander got out and looked around. There were two ambulances and over half a dozen cop cars, marked and not, parked randomly across the faded lines delineating parking spaces and a new looking white RV.
"Right this way, sir," Officer Nicholson said as Xander looked around with a frown, feeling a tingle he liked to call Hellmouth vibes.
Xander followed the officer into the hotel lobby, which looked like someone had made a half assed attempt at a cleaning, before entering the atrium which contained several dead or dying trees, a pool that was probably at least ten percent algae by volume and five bodies lying inside a pentagram, one at each point, covered by white sheets that were slowly turning red.
There were well over a dozen people scattered about as they took pictures, notes, and measurements of the scene, two of which immediately stood out to Xander, one who looked in need of a shave wearing a dirty trenchcoat that had seen better days and the other who was wearing a white toga and had a pair of glowing golden wings folded up on his back.
"Sergeant Nicholson," Officer Nicholson said, catching the attention of a short but broad shouldered black man, "I have Alexander Harris here."
"No relation," Sergeant Nicholson said at Xander's curious glance between the black sergeant and the white patrol officer. "Sorry to call you in like this, but you are the only expert on occult matters in the area we could lay our hands on."
"I'm more an expert on vampires and assorted low level demons," Xander said, "but I'll give you what help I can."
"Take a look around the scene and give me your first impression when you're ready," Sergeant Nicholson said, waving his hand. "I'm going to step outside and smoke a cigarette."
Xander nodded, absently noting the detective in the dirty trenchcoat was openly smoking and no one seemed to mind.
Xander made a slow circuit of the crime scene with a slowly growing frown as the angel and the smoking detective followed him with their eyes. The fact that no one seemed to notice them while still stepping around them was a clear sign that they weren't normal if the wings didn't give that one away and the other… looked like a surly detective from a dime store novel to be honest, he just lacked the hat.
Xander pretended not to see them as he listened to the various comments and conversations going on while roaming the atrium.
After about ten minutes, Sergeant Nicholson returned looking a little less stressed. "Anything?" he asked.
"A number of things," Xander said. "What do you think of the hotel?"
"It's a pretty nice place," Sergeant Nicholson said, looking around with an approving nod, "I wouldn't mind bringing my family here."
"You," Xander called out to a man in a white labcoat who was checking the photos he'd taken of the scene. "What do you think of the hotel?"
"It's a pretty nice place," the photographer said, looking around with an approving nod, "I wouldn't mind bringing my family here."
"That was weird," NIcholson said, frowning. "Joe, you don't have a family."
"I- I don't," Joe agreed, confused. "What the hell is going on?"
"This place is a shithole and I know shitholes," Xander said. "I don't know why, but everyone here seems to think this is a fine hotel and not a place you are likely to wake up minus a kidney or…" Xander waved at the bodies, "and you all repeat the same phrases when talking about it."
"Shit, we're going to have to call in the League," Nicholson said. "Anything else?"
"A couple of things," Xander said, turning and walking up to the angel or at least he hoped it was one, because if it wasn't this could go very wrong, very fast. "Would you care to introduce yourself?"
There were numerous exclamations and curses as everyone became aware of the winged figure.
"Constantine," the angel proclaimed while meeting Xander's eyes, causing a number of curses in a cockney accent.
"I'm surprised you saw me," the British man in the dirty trenchcoat said. "Reagents I used must have been dodgy," he complained.
The sudden appearance of a man in desperate need of a shower didn't even rate a single curse from the surrounding officers as they were still mostly watching the angel while pretending they weren't.
The angel's eyes flickered over to the man and then back to Xander.
"Alexander Harris," Xander said politely, "and you are?"
"Jethro of the Eagle Host, Guardian Angel," he introduced himself.
"Doesn't look like you guarded shit," the British man said bluntly.
"You know as well as I do Constantine that I have to be called on to act in this world and I was only called as the last breath left the father's lips."
"You winged poofters always come up a bit short in the pinch," Constantine complained with a sneer.
"Argue later," Xander said. "I saw you both doing the 'notice me not' mojo, so I'm guessing you both know what's going on here," Xander said. "Care to enlighten the rest of us?"
"I don't know," Constantine said, looking Xander over, "these sacrifices were done in the name of the Roman God Janus and you have his mark on you."
"He is without sin," Jethro announced, gesturing to Xander.
"Seriously?" Constantine complained. "What are the feckin' odds?"
"A chaos worshiper named Ethan Rayne turned everyone in my hometown into their costumes on Halloween a couple of years ago," Xander said with a shrug, "I wasn't a willing participant."
"Feels like more than one spell and it sure as feck takes more to earn the mark of his favor," Constantine said accusingly.
"Ethan also made a couple of other appearances, once to feed us all cursed chocolate," Xander replied. "I snagged a couple of cases for my own use."
"Why would you willingly eat cursed chocolate?" Constantine demanded.
"Cause the curse didn't affect me," the Sunnydale teen replied with a shrug, "and I have a sweet tooth. This doesn't feel like Ethan though, it feels… heavier."
Constantine sighed. "Fine, I'll give you a quick rundown on what I know, then we can turn the case over to people who know what's up and won't accidentally feck things up."
"Great," Sergeant Nicholson said through gritted teeth, turned on a micro recorder and pulled out a pen and notebook.
"Janus is a dual natured god, beginnings and endings, peace and war, that kinda shite," Constantine explained. "This comes down on the darker side of his two headed coin. They lured the family in to this charming place, sacrificed them for power, and fecked off to who knows where, the end."
"And the reason we all think this shithole is a lovely place to take the family?" Nicholson asked.
"A spell," Constantine replied with a shrug.
"Who were the victims?" Xander asked Joe, the crime scene photographer.
"Mary and Marvin Stockwell, both in their early thirties, and their children Mary and Marvin Stockwell Junior," Joe reported, "today was their thirteenth birthday. No idea on the fifth one, mid forties black male, black robe, appears to have slit his own throat."
"Fecking hell," Constantine said with a wince.
"Simple sacrifice?" Xander asked Jethro hopefully.
"No, Marvin was forced to despoil Mary before they were sacrificed," the angel said sadly.
"So it wasn't simply for power," Xander said.
"How did you get that from this?" Nicholson asked.
"Because virgin sacrifices are more powerful," Constantine said with a heavy sigh. "This just became a lot more complicated."
"And they were twins," Xander pointed out.
"So they probably weren't random at all," Constantine admitted, absently lighting another cigarette.
"This was all prepared in advance, check the rooms, the cultists had to have stayed here for at least a couple of days to set this all up," Xander said. "They've probably left a lot of traces."
"Another bloody cult I've got to track down," Constantine complained. "This is going to take weeks, maybe months, even with the League's help."
"Joy, magical serial killers," Nicholson said, "as if we didn't have enough problems."
"And this is all outside my wheelhouse," Xander said, a bit relieved. "It takes trained investigators to comb through the evidence, find the clues, and track down the perps which is something I am not."
"I don't know, you seem to have done well so far," Nicholson told him.
Xander shook his head. "I can read a scene if the message is large enough and in a language I can translate. I can't do all the detective work you guys handle. I'm mostly 'find obvious demon, kill obvious demon'."
"I gotta make a call," Constantine said before walking off to a quiet corner and pulling out his phone.
"Thank you for your help," Nicholson said, offering Xander a hand.
Xander shook it. "I'm glad I could help. I'll give you my number so you can call me if you need anything."
"We appreciate it," Nicholson said. "There are damn few experts in your field that will lower themselves to talk to the police," he said sourly, gesturing to Constantine who was arguing loudly with someone on the phone from his wild gestures but they couldn't hear a sound from him.
"I'm nowhere near an expert, this is just stuff I picked up in high school," Xander said.
"Must have been one hell of a school," Nicholson said.
"That's one way to put it," Xander said.
"You will not avenge them?" Jethro asked suddenly, making Nicholson jump.
"I would if I could find them, or at least knock them out and turn them over to the police," Xander lied badly, causing Nicholson to raise an eyebrow, but as his eyes took in the bodies he decided to pretend he hadn't heard anything.
"I would bless you, but it would ill suit you," Jethro decided, "I'm afraid my personal thanks is all I have to give."
"And I appreciate it," Xander told the angel.
"Why can't you bless him?" Nicholson asked curiously.
"There are those who turn ill luck to their fortune," Jethro said, "he is one such." There was a flare of light and the angel vanished.
"That explains a lot about my life," Xander said with a sigh.
"Was that really an angel?" Joe asked cautiously, looking around for the winged figure.
"That's my guess," Xander said. "First one I've ever seen, I usually deal with the other side." He turned to the Sergeant. "If we're done here?" he asked hopefully.
"You know it's not that easy," Nicholson said.
"Paperwork?" Xander guessed with a wince.
"Paperwork," the sergeant agreed ruefully.
"With coffee and donuts?"
"As much as you want," he promised.
"Alright, lead me to the forms," Xander said with a heavy sigh.
Typing By: Abyssal Angel
Beta by: Abyssal Angel, Mist of Shadows, and Kyrin Fireheart