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Part four
Xander's stomach finally stopped churning - again. He raised his head making sure his line of sight fell anywhere except to where Teresa's body lay beside the door. Thankfully he had still been out of it when the demon had tossed her in. Still, the stench of burned hair and flesh could not be ignored. How he wished there was something to cover her up with
.The feeble light from the from the 'exit' sign above the door made his eyes hurt. Or maybe it was the result of that creature slamming him into the side of the RV. And, God! - he was thirsty. That beer he had in the park seemed like a month ago. He glanced at his fellow captives. Junior was going through a rank of filing cabinets that lined the far wall looking for anything useful. John sat across from him leaning against the wall at an odd angle. The hunter was hurt... bad, you could see it in his eyes. But he had been here since the night before and Xander had the feeling that they had really worked John Blanchard over more than once. Xander shuddered a bit as he wondered if he was next in line. What was it John had said after Junior had brought him up to speed? "Soc au lait, boy! You picked a bad, bad time to join da Alliance."
"Yes, yes - 'ya got that right." Harris darkly muttered to himself.
SLAM! CRASH!
Junior kicked the file cabinet drawer shut and knocked the unit over onto its side. "Not a damn t'ing in any of dem."
"Save you strength, boy." John leaned back trying to ease the pain of his broken body and bones. "I ain't going to be any help. What a dé pouille..."
"What's that?" Xander asked, hoping dé pouille meant something good for a change.
"A God-damned mess!" Junior snarled. "Dat's what it is." His face contorted as he glanced over at his Aunt. "But we will get 'em. They don't know it, but all of dem are mine."
John gritted his teeth from both the physical and mental agony. For over seventy years the clan had been lucky, no casualties. The skills amassed by the family in the past twelve plus decades had served them well, but they came with a warning drilled into them from day one: one misstep, one time too complacent, underestimate them for a second and you're dead. Everyone knew that, everyone had their share of close calls. And sometimes the Alliance lost. He remembered the Chicago "incident" back in '80. Ted Karn and his crew wiped out by two ratty females and a male.
Now it was the Blanchard's turn, two dead in less than a day, his big sister and her only son. And according to Roth's rambling commentary while John was being dragged to this room, it wasn't anywhere near over.
"So we are in a bakery? Tell about it." Junior stood before Xander tossing his thumb toward the logo painted on the brick wall.
"Patrizio's - California's Specialty Bakers. We're there with the sunrise." Xander read off the corporate name and slogan. "Yeah, they got bought out early last year. Then the new owners closed this place down and relocated to Fresno. My uncle Bob used to work here. Whenever someone asked him what he did, he would say 'I stand in the bread line'." Rising he went over to the mural. "See all those happy little people dancing around the sun? Represents all the different stuff they made, sourdough, challah. focaccia, pita, soda."
Not the information Junior was asking for. "Tell me somet'ing we can use."
"There isn't anything. We are six miles out of town in a hundred year old building, locked in what looks like an old basement fileroom, waiting on them to come back in and... oh, I don't know... maybe, kill us." Xander rubbed his hands together. "That's why I would rather talk about bread."
"Yes, you are a dead man, we all are." John quietly said. "But, you are not kin, so maybe you be lucky, die fast, one time."
Xander's voice got a little high. "I don't like the words 'lucky' and 'die fast' side by side in the same sentence. And, you know that 'one time' has me a bit... concerned"
Junior approached his father and sat down beside him. "They plan to turn us?"
John nodded grimly. "Yes, and you brother Andrew when he returns. Then you Uncle Mike and his boys, when they get here. They told me all da Blanchard blood will be turned."
"What about me?" Xander felt ill again.
"You and Sam are for us to feed on. Same t'ing with Matt." John's eyes seemed to throw off sparks. "If they turn us, you three must destroy us. Dat is a order... we go nowheres."
Junior made a crablike pinching motion with his hands. "So dis was a trap, and we crawled in after da bait like a mess o' tooloulou."
"Roth knew we would come." John shifted trying to get some relief. "Somehows he knew we were up for da nex job. Sent a ringer to flash enough monies and get us on da trail. Then had a L.I. in Tampa drop dis place name to Luis."
"This is 'personal' ain't it." Xander asked as he joined the two men. "Wanna clue me in?"
John stared off into space as he considered the request. If the kid was going to die with them he had the right to know. He shut his eyes momentarially, gathering his strength, before he began.
"In '66 Daniel Roth was hired by my poppa. Mais, I did not like him, and not just because he was not Cajun. I was sixteen, but could see Roth was a liar, a capon, a evil son o' bitch. But Teresa, she was blind - even with Mamere Savoy's gift, she was blind." He stopped and sadly stared at his sister. "Oo ye yi, Teresa."
"Gift?" Xander asked softly bringing John back the narrative.
"Da Gift, it is da eye, da touch, da visions. Teresa was born with dis, comes down natural on momma's side to da strong girls. And she taught it to Roth. Da words, da signs - but you cannot teach someones what be right." John pointed toward his heart. "Alohrs pas! Dat come from inside. And Roth had not a damn t'ing inside but evil. Well, it takes a year but finally poppa sees it too and throws him out of da Alliance. Too late, Teresa is pregnant."
John clenched his fist. "And while she was carrying dis baby, he put a cunja on her because she would not leave with him. Mamere Savory felt it over her and try, try she could not stop it. Teresa lost da baby halfway through. I tracked Roth up da bayou to Memphis and thumped him into grind meat... should have killed him."
John stopped for a moment as a wave of pain radiated through his lower back. A cold sweat covered his face as he choked back a groan.
Junior reached out to steady his dad. "Poppa?"
"Nothing... moved my arm wrong." He lied. "Anyways, Roth trys to make his own Alliance team but da word is out - he is a warlock and he with dem, not us."
"The vampires?" Xander asked. "He just, what, pretended to hunt them?"
"Yes, sometimes... no sometimes. If it was a weak one he would make a deal and use it for a time. Pretend to destroy it and take da money. Then da vampire would move to another place, Roth would come and run da con again. Went on damn twenty years until a bad, bad one turned on him. Then he has da balls to come to me for help."
Xander leaned forward caught up in the tale. "Did you?"
"I threw his dirty money on da ground and pissed on it. He then goes to Teresa, see if she will give him a gris gris to keep him safe. She would not even speak to him - had T.Paul put da dogs on his ass." A twisted smile crossed John's face. "He was turned a week later, then soon after dat he came for us." He gave Junior a nod. "Remember dat night?"
Junior snorted at the question. "Remember? Still gives me pissing shivers." He looked at Xander. "Christmas, eleven years ago. All of us were home for da celebration. First he turned a State Trooper, has him come to da house and say dat I'm driving a stolen car. He wants to haul me off. We all go outside, have a damn big argument. Then they attack us - fifteen, twenty of dem in da pack. And there we were, our wives, our children, our friends. We got back into da house, but we did not know dat Roth kept his sorcery. He called up fire demons to burn us out." Junior shut his eyes at the memory and swore before he continued.
"Great-Mamere Savoy and Teresa they raised their hands and send dem demons back at his bloodsuckers - burn most of dem to hell. Then Great-Mamere puts her hands on Teresa and they combine their gift. Then as one, they called a binding upon Roth as he ran. It wrapped around him and took him to a place where he could see both where he had been and where he was going."
Xander whistled. "Trapped him between earth and hell? But how did he get out?"
The door creaked open. Flanked by a pair of creatures on each side Roth entered the room.
"Classic story of good and evil, love found and lost, eternal hate from beyond the grave, etceteras and etceteras - my compliments, I was spellbound. Sorry to interrupt but I was just waiting for the proper moment to make a grand entrance, and this seemed perfect." He stopped and laughed wickedly. "I was spellbound? A perfect choice of words!"
Junior and Xander rose and squared off at the bodyguards.
"Oh Junior, you want to fight?" Roth's eye's narrowed. "I am surprised, your 'poppa' is laying there dying and you want to waste your time fighting."
John struggled to his feet. "He lying at you, Junior. Arm's broke dat's it."
Roth inhaled deeply. "I smell your blood mixed in your urine and on your breath. You are dying from the inside a drop at a time."
Junior hesitated, his eyes darting back and forth between his father and the vampire.
"So, Junior... are you going to spend the last few hours of your daddy's life cold-crocked on the floor?" Roth's game face appeared. "It took five of my 'helpers' to bring you down the first time. Only four here now, want to take a chance?"
"Hey, asshole don't forget about me." Xander stepped forward. "I don't plan on going quietly to the big dirt nap. I took on two of them, and they were bigger than those bozos."
Roth raised an eyebrow and nodded in agreement. "Yes you did. Let's see..." He ran his palms up the side of the two closest demons collecting a small ball of slime in each hand. With a low incantation he flicked the blobs to the floor.
Xander made a hacking noise as each splatter morphed into a very, very large demon.
"Like my new trick?" Roth asked the captives. "I have another one you will enjoy. Just sent four vampires out into the sunshine to collect Andrew and your flyboy and your computer wizard."
"Impossible." John muttered.
Emboldened by the increase in bodyguards Roth stepped a few feet into the room. "No John, they are on their way. My spell will keep them safe from 'sunburn' for as long as necessary. And when they return you get to watch your boy become just like me." He stared down at Teresa. "Let's see, your boy, your sister and your nephew... defiantly you will be treated to three Blanchard corpses. But you are a hard head, just for spite you might live long enough to watch one of your flunkies..."
Junior had enough, die now or die later he no longer cared, but he was going to get a piece of Roth. He launched himself at the vampire. The two new demons closed ranks and blocked his attack. In a heartbeat one had him in a crushing grip while the other reached over with one hand to break the hunter's neck.
"No!" Roth commanded. "Release the fool!"
With a crash Junior was tossed back like an undersize fish.
"That's not how we are playing this game." Roth's voice acquired a vampire hiss. "T.Paul died in a pool of vomit retched up by his beloved dogs. Dear, dear Teresa, her shade is now bound where I was. And I have fixed it so neither of them will ever find peace."
He snarled toward John. "And you will die the same way you left me to expire in that Memphis flophouse; by inches from shattered bones and internal bleeding. If my old bat of a landlady would not have been so nosy I would have died from your assault. You will not be so lucky, your brother Michael will find only your rotting corpse in the motor home."
Roth turned his attention to Xander. "And you 'did' pick a bad week to join the Alliance, for they will have to hunt you down along with the rest of the Blanchard people."
A wrenching pain from within caused John to cry out as he went back down to the floor. Junior limped over to his dad and tried to help him.
"Die, John Blanchard... die badly." Roth bared his fangs. "But not too quickly, that's not the plan." He pointed a finger at the demon nearest to him. "Bring them some water if you can find any." Heading toward the door the vampire cackled hellishly. "Old Charlie Karn is going to shit bricks when he finds out that three teams of hunters have become three packs of the hunted."
"Hey Pal! You going to finish the story or leave me hanging?" Xander called out after the departing vampire. Roth stopped and gave Harris a backward glance over the shoulder as the teen continued to bait him. "You know... your perfect moment, precious moment, whatever. So how'd you get out? Let's hear your side of it."
"One of my own brought me back." Roth grinned. "She missed me."
Xander made noise of disbelief. "Someone missed you?"
Roth's grin became a leer. "Yessss... You see I'm a man with many hidden.. talents."
"I don't even wanna go there." Xander said with an emphatic shake of the head. "But how'd she get you back?"
"Patience..." Roth whispered. "...Patience and preparation. Kathleen was my helper for many, many years. I taught her sorcery in life and gave her eternity with me at my turning. She saw what those witches did to me and spent many years searching for the way to break the binding. Oh, she became very good in the black arts. Only took her four years to figure out how to communicate with me."
"So your undead squeeze cut you loose?" Xander edged him on. "How?"
"Dat's what I want to know, it was a powerful cunja they put on you ass." John muttered.
Roth took the stage before his captives. "Correct as usual Johnny. Your 'late' Grandmother could conjure up some serious power. But let's dwell on the operative word, 'late'. You know, it took her long enough to die, 103 years. But when she did finally go, the bounds were loosened quite a bit and Kathleen was able to break me free." He rubbed his chin and shrugged. "Too bad it destroyed her, I knew it would, but why ruin the surprise?"
The vampire went back to the door and motioned for his bodyguards to exit. "That gift, it missed your mother and really your sister was the only one in your generation with it." He stopped to smile at her body. "Yes Teresa had it, but I took it from her. That's why she does not look her best at the moment. As for you two, I don't feel any power in either of you. But it must have been recessive in your blood for as you know it has passed along to your lovely descendant Sheri. I must pay her a visit on her sixth birthday."
Junior came up off the floor like a tiger at the sound of his daughter's name but the creature was already out the door. The hunter's fists beat against the solid metal to no avail as he cursed Roth.
"Junior..." Xander began but quickly backed away as the hunter ripped a section of the wide wood framing from around the door with his bare hands and speared it the length of the room. A few chunks of ancient brick still attached to the board broke off and spun across the tile floor.
Junior pointed to the wood. "Nex time we be ready."
*~*~*~* KarnC: Absolutely not. Return to Grand Isle.
BlanchardM: God-damn it Charlie - Half my family is out there.
KarnC: And the other half need protected. You go off half cocked to CA and your suspended.
BlanchardM: Still there Giles?Matt rubbed his neck before jumping back into the conversation.
Willowwic8: Yeah?
BlanchardM: What's your gut feeling?Willow blinked at the screen. "Wow, they want your advice!"
Matt pulled Willow's laptop a bit closer. "Yeah, only when there ain't a right answer. What'ca think Red? Do I side with my bosses' brother or my bosses' boss?"
Willowwic8: I think they're all still alive. But I don't think there is time for M.B. to get here from WI. Guts say we only have 'till sundown. After that Roth will blow this town. SWAG - it will head for Blanchard base.
Rupert peered over his glasses. "Swag?"
"Scientific wild ass guess, it's an Alliance specialty." Matt answered as he quickly typed an addendum to his message.
Willowwic8: Between joint Alliance and Council forces we can take 'em down.
Plink! Mike Blanchard disconnected. Giles shook his head and echoed Willow's recent observation. "You used the 'C' word again. At least this time he merely left in a huff instead of offering a... creative commentary."
Matt leaned back in his chair. "That's 'cause I only typed 'Council' not 'Council of Watchers'."
KarnC: Confirmed. Your show Giles. Use all available allies. Take Roth down.
"My show?" Matt raised an eyebrow and talked back to the screen. "Thanks a lot Charlie. Andy will be happy as hell to hear that one."
Willowwic8: Confirmed. M.G./sign off.
KarnC: K.C./sign off.
Jsjsjsjsjs: js/soRupert pointed at the final sign off. "Now who was that? He never said a word."
"John Smith, but that's not his real name. He's one of our government contacts. He lurks a lot when we're messaging but I don't think I've seen ten words out of him... ever." Matt drained his coffee and accessed the Alliance page. "But he can make shit happen. Hope he can stop Mike from coming out here, six guns blazing." He held his cup up. "Got anymore of that mud?"
"I will brew some more." Rupert rose and went into the office. Reaching for the pot his eyes fell on his copy of the Alliance Book laying on his desk. The insane irony of it all struck him. "I would say this answers the 'is it nature or nurture' question." He said outloud as he made a fresh batch.
There was so much he wanted to know, so much he was afraid to ask. But this was not the time for a heart to heart.
"Dark place with the sun." Giles muttered as he poured the water into the unit.
"Is there a planetarium in Sunnydale? They can be dark and sunny." Matt asked from the doorway.
Rupert straightened up. "Yes, there is. Over at the museum. But I've already dismissed that possibility, too much human activity."
"Suppose your right..." Matt tapped his fingers on his empty cup and stared around the office. "School librarian, huh? How'd you get this gig?"
"The Council posted me to this position as my 'cover'."
Neither man moved and except for the hissing coffee maker, an uncomfortable silence filled the room.
Giles began to shuffle some papers on his deck. "What's Willow doing?"
"She's writing some things down for me. Says she knows how to build a better firewall for the Alliance site."
"So, the Alliance does not use the Hunter's Book anymore?" Giles commented as he held up the same.
"Where'd you get that?" Matt approached the desk and held out his hand. "You been sleeping with the enemy?"
Giles handed him the worn book. "In 1990 or perhaps '91, Mr. Sanderson passed away. He was one of the Council researchers. His widow, I believe her name was, hummm... Margaret... Martha? Was that it?" Giles paused for a moment, stuck on the tangent. "Well never mind. I can't recall. Anyway, his widow packed up all his material and had it delivered to us." He gave a nod toward the volume in Matt's hand. "Someone tossed it into the rubbish pile and for some reason I took it."
"Probably Travers." Matt dryly stated.
Stiffening at the name Giles removed his glasses and took out his handkerchief. "Wonderful fellow." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Matt curled his lip. "Yeah, what a piece of shit."
"We are in agreement on that point." Giles said as he mechanically cleaned his glasses. "What was his price, may I ask?"
"His price?"
Rupert wiped a final invisible speck off his lenses. "How did you phrase it? If you wave enough money around scum rises. He fingered me..."
The hunter ran his finger over the scarred logo on the cover. "You know, it's hard to tell which that sucker hates worse, you or us." Matt's gaze wandered around the office coming to a stop eye to eye with Rupert. "I tracked him down almost two years ago. All he told me was that you were the Watcher." Matt puffed himself up and impersonated Travers. "Young man, without a doubt you are insane if you believe I will enlighten you to Mr. Giles whereabouts. The location of The Watcher is confidential. Leave these premises immediately or I shall call the authorities." Stopping for a moment his face assumed a hateful sneer at the memory. "He slipped up calling you THE Watcher. Fat lot of good that did since he's made sure we've been in the dark since '86, we had no idea where the Slayer was posted."
"So that was a lie. I see.."
"No you don't... 'see'. I was more pissed than you can ever 'see'." Matt went to pour a cup. "As for finding exactly where in the hell you were, I knew sooner or later we'd cross paths since we're in the same line of work. When we got here and found out Sunnydale was Slayer base, I knew it was a 'given' that you were holed up somewhere close by. Got your address by hacking into the tax records. "
"Another mystery. Exactly how did you uncover the information that I am connected with the Council? All records show that I was in the employ of the British Museum, there is not one bloody reference to the fact that I am a Watcher." Rupert's voice had an edge to it, how may more lies had Matt fed him and the others?
"Oxford on-line alumni newsletter said you worked at the museum."
Rupert's face showed his amazement. "You knew about Oxford?"
Matt's stare turned cold. "Remember? That's the only thing you told mom that wasn't a bald-faced lie. So I wrote to the museum, saying I was doing the family tree thing. Some secretary wrote back and said you were on extended leave for research purposes. Matt took a slug of coffee. "Yeah, that messed me up for a long time. Wasted about a year trying to track you through the Middle East."
With a shake of his head Rupert interrupted. "Yes, that rings true... as far as anyone at the museum knows I am in Turkey engaged in field work. But again, how did you know I am a Watcher?"
"Were a Watcher. Xander told me they shitcanned you for screwing up." Matt gave the verbal knife another twist. "Screwing up... that's another one of those family traits, huh? So wanna tell me what went down?"
"No. That is 'Council' business." Rupert answered with an even tone. He was not going to allow the conversation to veer from what he wanted to know. "Later, perhaps we can discuss my other various failings, but not now."
"Right... that should only take about a week." Matt's delight in pushing Rupert's buttons was evident in his eyes. "So you want to know the whole nine yards or just the high spots?"
Rupert swung his desk chair out and sat down. "Oh enlighten me however you please. As long as it is the truth."
"Here's the short version, Old Man. As you know the address on the envelope was a wash. That's all I had to go on, except for the name mom hung on me. 'Matthew Rupert Giles'." Matt sneered a bit. "Guess she liked you. Started lookin' when I was about seventeen. Ripped off some stationary from my lawyer's office so it would look official and sent out a few letters to that address. Never heard back."
Rupert nodded. "The family home changed hands several times before it was razed. Connecting road went through...."
"Whatever." Matt interrupted. "Now I have to back up a bit. Mike Blanchard, he got this wild hair up his ass back in '86 that he was going to redo the Alliance Book. He reaches out and gets all the groups to bring him all the info they have laying around. His old man, Frank, was the big boss at the time. Ya see... the clans take turns electing the Alliance head honcho. So, Frank likes this idea too and he also wants to bring the Council into the mix. So he calls and gets 'permission' to meet up with the Watcher and Slayer up in Montreal."
"That would have been Byron Sadgebury.... God rest his soul." Rupert noted.
"Yeah, dead guy." Matt coldly confirmed. "Sadgebury is cool with this and lets Mike and Frank copy his data. Then they head off to England and visit Watcher central. They hook up with the archive guy there and things are flying along just great. Then, after about a week, this Travers hears what's happenin', gets a burr up his ass and comes stormin' in to throw them out on their ear."
Rupert gave a slight nod confirming that he found this plausible given Quentin Travers nature.
"Mike broke the son of a bitch's nose."
"I remember that!" Giles interjected. "The explanation was that 'intruders' had broken in and Travers risked life and limb to protect the hallowed chambers." He laughed. "Some of us wanted to find these 'intruders' and buy them a pint."
Matt found himself grinning at this comment. "Well Mike's so P.O.'ed he can't see straight and Frank is spittin' nails. They come back to the States and put the word out - screw 1878, screw the Council. The last thing you want to do is piss in the charcoal when the Blanchard's are having a bar-b-que."
"Wonderful mental image." Rupert added wickedly.
"So Mike brings all this stuff back and dumps it in his back room and there it sits until January '95." Matt suddenly looked uncomfortable. "That's when I signed up."
The hunter's narrative changed tact as he began to obviously choose his words with care. "Mike let me live at his place. Spent the first weeks camped out in his back room gettin' my head screwed back on. Started to go through the stuff, a hundred plus years worth of bullshit. Now, Mike had bought a computer but he didn't really use it, so I started putting this stuff on it. I found your name and your old man's name and a whole bunch of other Giles' in the material that had been brought back from England."
"We have been Watchers for many generations. Your grandfather, great-grandmother... on back for almost four hundred years. It is our fate, our destiny to deal with these dark forces. Evil seeks us out to challenge us, to destroy us and all we hold dear." Rupert said quietly.
Matt stared at Rupert, his jaw tightening as he realized what Rupert was saying, and how it had affected him - that night in North Carolina wasn't just bad luck, it wasn't just a screwed roll of the dice. Shaking in rage he took a menacing step toward Giles. "Seeks us out, huh? Sweet... real God damn sweet. That sure as hell explains a lot. Any other fucking curses you passed on down the line?" He flung the Alliance book against the office window shattering the glass into a million pieces. "Fuck you, very much, Old Man!!"
"Control yourself!!" Giles barked as he came up out of the chair.
"Kiss.. my.. ass!" Matt snarled in Rupert's face.
A very nervous Willow peeked into the door. "Uh.. you guys okay?"
"You too Red!" Matt snapped. "Right on the hairy..."
The hunter never saw the blow coming. Rupert's fist made contact with Matt's jaw with a sickening "crack". Matt fell backwards over a chair and landed flat on his back on the carpet. Giles was on him in a heartbeat, landing a second well placed punch directly onto Matt's mouth as he scrambled to his feet.
"Say what you will to me, but I will not tolerate..." Giles raged as he pulled Matt up by the shirt. Roughly he twirled Matt around and slammed him down onto the desk. With one hand pressing down on Matt's shoulder Giles twisted the kid's right arm, locking it behind him. "...I will not tolerate your lashing out at Willow or Buffy or Wesley or anyone else." He bent down and literally hissed into Matt's ear. "Under-s-s-stand?"
Matt braced himself and tried to break free by hooking his leg behind Rupert's knee. This only resulted in getting his arm stretched even tighter across his back and his face pushed downward into the paperwork
"Answer me you little...." Enraged as he was, Giles stopped mid-sentence but filled in the missing word by raising Matt's head two inches and pounding it back onto the desk.
"Confirmed." Matt growled through his split lips.
Giles released his hold and warily stepped back not daring to drop his guard. Matthew came around and drew himself up to Rupert for a moment before slightly backing down.
"So, are you two, like... even now?" Willow asked with a gulp.
Matt spit a mouthful of bloody saliva into the trash can and glared at Rupert. "Yeah... we're even." He snapped as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
Rupert's features relaxed slightly. "There is a clean shirt in the cabinet, if you want it." He mentioned as a small peace offering.
"Keep it, you've given me enough shit." The hunter answered bluntly as he retrieved his coffee cup and went back out into the main library.
Stung by the rejection Rupert felt his ire rise again. "Stubborn, arrogant, provoking, intentionally rude..." He muttered as he rubbed his knuckles into his palm.
Willow's eyes followed Matt as he left the office and picked up her notes at the counter. "Wonder where he got 'that' from?"
Rupert's humor took yet another step downward. "I beg your pardon? What are you alluding to? Willow, I am not that caustic."
Turning back to Giles she theatrically raised her eyebrows in feigned shock that she would even consider it. The gesture was returned with a dark stare.
"What did he mean that you've given him enough?" She asked cautiously.
"It means he is content with his bloodied mouth." Giles snapped. Then in a lower voice. "Should have also boxed his ears into his thick head as an additional...."
"Uh...." Willow butted in and handed Rupert the Sunnydale phone book. "I got an idea. It might not mean anything, but it could mean something. We're in Sunnydale, right? Dark place with the sun... sun - SUN-e-dale. Maybe the sun thing means there's 'sun' in the name."
"Very good possibility." Rupert said as he paged to the 'S' section of the yellow pages. Still miffed over Willow's commentary he shot her a sour look. "Stay away from him."
"He already told me that." Willow righted the overturned chair and sat down. "Said he was a... shit magnet."
"And a bad influence." Giles added as he sat down across from her. "In the past you would have paraphrased."
Willow shook her head and sighed. "He told me some stuff in the van, while we were waiting on you. I think he's okay."
Rupert looked over his glasses at Willow. "Lies. Stay away from him."
"Did you see what's around his neck? It really shows since Buffy ripped those buttons off." She blushed as the thought of how much she liked the "ripped work shirt over a white T" look.
"Yes Willow, he wears a cross, a rather gaudy one. Common accessory in his trade. It does NOT mean he is a priest." Giles was getting even more irritated at the topic of conversation and Willow's somewhat appreciative expression only added to his foul mood.
"Besides that." Willow picked at the armrest. "There's a ring on the chain too. Weird huh?"
Rupert gritted his teeth. "Most likely stolen.." He pulled an older copy of the phone book out of the drawer and slid it across the desk. "Help me with this research. Search the 'A' through 'R' yellow page listings for sun references and make a list." He added as he gave her a notepad.
Willow shook her head. "Wonder if Buffy and Wesley are having this much fun?"
"Sitting beside a hot runway in the company of two panting beasts? In my opinion they are blessed." Rupert's expression became even harsher as he stared through the destroyed office window toward Matt. "Defiantly blessed. Now shall we get on with the research? Another good possibility would be places which have closed...."
With a sad look Willow accepted the assignment. As they settled into "research mode" she stole a figurative glance at both of them. He eyebrow shot up as she thought. "Both maybe stubborn? Like duh..."
*~*~*~* A half hour passed before the silence in the room was broken by the chatter of the printer on the shelf behind Rupert. He turned around in his chair and took the first page out of the hopper. "Commentary On Transmutation Demons And Their Creators - by Joseph Brenner, esq." He raised an eyebrow.
"Convenient...." Matt sniped from the doorway. "...Put the printer hell and gone from the computer."
"Oh, that's so Giles and Wesley can check anything someone prints out off the Internet in case they are printing out stuff that their not allowed to." Willow explained, happy to take a break from reading the phone book.
"So you're the net police too?" Matt muttered as he handed Giles the sheets Willow had printed previously. "Okay Old Man, here's something. I started thinkin' about those transmutated demons Roth left at the RV. Now, we know he's got a few vamp backups - T.Paul said he was drained by two dead dicks."
"Watch your language." Giles warned him.
Matt curled his lip slightly and poured a coffee. "By two... vampires. Better?" He took a sip and winced as the hot liquid hit his split upper lip.
Giles allowed himself a slight smile at Matt's discomfort.
"Anyway.. if he's using these transmutated slime balls as muscle that means he ain't got many bloodsuckers in his corner."
Rupert crossed his arms and sat back into the chair. "And how, 'exactly' did you come to this conclusion?"
"Think about it Old Man... transmutated creatures only last 'till the next sundown. Sure, they pack one hel... heck of a punch, but their dumber than a box of rocks and as of today at eighteen hundred hours, eleven minutes they're history. Expendable, just around for the job - the 'temps' of the demon world; you don't bother with 'em unless you have to."
"So you are saying that this Roth does not have substantial forces at his disposal?" Giles took the sheets and began to scan them. "He is a warlock, correct?"
Matt sat down beside Willow. "Yeah, he's a warlock. But he ain't got a handle on it as much as he thinks he does, I think he's lost it. Read that article I just printed out, those who can - do; those who can't - fake it. If he still had real juice he wouldn't be screwing around with transmutations."
"But you do realize it takes a fair amount of... 'juice' to call up even the weakest demon." Rupert pointed out.
"I'll buy that, but back in '88 he called up some seriously lethal force. It took both Teresa and her granny to slam dunk his butt halfway to hell. Gettin' dead really buried the needle on his mojo meter. But now he has to use these slime balls."
Rupert shook his head and looked up from the printouts. "Who did what? There is not any reference..."
"John would have fed me to the gators if I'd mentioned the Blanchard 'sex, gumbo and zydeco' in the links... wanna hear about it? Matt said with a evil grin.
"Yeah!" Willow answered with a huge smile. "Let's hear it."
Taking Willow's answer as a blanket okay Matt began. "Teresa is the one who taught Roth how to do the black magic - Grand Isle style, then Roth taught her a few of his tricks - Baltimore style. Half the reason he got tossed out of the club was that he got her knocked up...."
Giles took off his glasses and began to chew on the earpiece as Matthew finished his story, his disbelief growing with every word. "This has nothing to do with the Alliance or the Hellmouth or.. or..." He shook his head incredulously. "This is a vendetta, plain and simple."
"Bingo!" Matt leaned over and rested his elbows on the desk pointing his folded hands toward Rupert. "That's why Charlie didn't want Mike comin' in. Roth is goin' to take out as many Blanchards' as he can in Sunnydale, then he's gonna beeline straight to Louisiana. He might hang here waiting on Mike and his boys to show, but don't hold your breath."
"So maybe... maybe they'll let Xander go. He's not related to them... right?" Willow said hopefully.
"Don't bet on it Red. They came for me 'cause I ride with John and remember Xander was signed up with Teresa so...." Matt finished the statement with a grim shake of the head.
Willow shuddered and bowed her head.
Matt glanced at his watch. "Twelve-twenty. Old Man, we got less than six hours before it's all over so you better figure out where they are. As soon as Roth loses his demon back-up he takes down the tents and cleans the cages." He kissed his fingertips and flicked them outward. "Gone!"
"I don't know." Giles confessed. "We have been searching the phone listings for places with 'sun' or a reference to 'sun' in their names, logos, ah... anything."
"So what's your best SWAG?"
Rupert pushed the phone book toward Matt. "I have been looking through the 'Sunny' columns. Already I have fifteen possibilities, not counting what Willow has found."
"What'ca got, Red?" The hunter asked as he rested his forehead onto his hands.
"A bunch. Lot's of places have closed in the last year or two." She flipped back to the first page of her notes. "Under 'abrasives', Gearhart Grinding Supply."
"Never dealt with them." Rupert answered. "Next?"
"Under 'accountants', Schulze Income Tax, Accounting & Notary." Willow bit her lip. "Mr. Schulze was a nice guy."
"Never have hired an accountant."
Leaning back in his chair, Matt shut his eyes and sighed. "This is pissin' up a rope." He thought as he listened to the two. The minutes ticked by.
"Under 'bakers - retail', Patrizio's."
"We're there with the sunrise... yes that could be it." Rupert filled in the corporate slogan and started to consider its possibilities.
Matt opened his eyes and arched an eyebrow. "Means somethin' to you?"
Giles got a bit more agitated. "Yes... defiantly yes. I... humm... I would go out of my way to patronize their shop. They made a wonderful tea bread... every Thursday one could purchase it at the small retail counter at the main bakery. And on Mondays they offered bagels that were outstanding."
Willow began to nod with excitement. "Right! They closed down last year. Big old place with bricked up windows. Nobody around."
Rising quickly, Rupert went over to the cabinet. "Where is it... where is it? Aha!" He held up a plastic bread sack full of paper clips, rubber bands and other office odds and ends. "There!" He crowed in triumph.
"Wow! That's gonna help, Old Man." Matt snorted. "Those rubber bands are really killer. Back in high school biology I would wind up a handful of 'em and fire a paper clip straight through a frog."
Willow wrinkled her nose. "Yuck!"
With his trademark "click" Rupert dumped the junk out of the sack. "No, no... look at this!" He pointed at the logo printed on the bag.
"You sure about this?" Matt softly asked him as he stared at the rising sun surrounded by dancing figures.
"I would stake my life on it."
"Deal..." Matt's eyes narrowed as he rose from his seat. "...'Cause if you're wrong and we loose more people, I'm gonna take you out of the equation."
Willow put her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.
The two men stared at each other, neither blinking or moving for what seemed like an eternity. Matt broke off his gaze and checked the time. "Twelve thirty-eight. Get your shit together. We rock and roll as soon as the others get back."
Slowly, Giles answered the challenge to his authority. "Oh yes... Mr. Karn said it was... 'your show'. But if your people are not here in one hour I am leaving for the airport where I will collect Buffy and Wesley and then we will continue on to Patrizio's. For remember one thing... son, I have many more years experience in 'our' trade than you do. And I will use my training and experience however I see fit, and no one will stand in my way. Alliance be damned; Council be damned; you be damned."
Something in Rupert's face made Matt hold his tongue. A haunted combination of human sadness edged with strength; an echo of four hundred years of a pride tempered with pain.
Without another word Rupert pulled his key ring out of his jacket and selected the cage key. Giving Willow a sharp motion to follow, he exited the office to collect their weapons
.Matt poured the last of the coffee into his cup and sat down to wait...
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