For Love of a Wolf: Alric's Story

by SpikesKat

 

Chapter 2

Joyce wandered around the house she’d lived in for the past year, her hand running along odds and ends – a picture of her daughter here, a piece of art there.  She’d done everything she could to make the place a home for both Buffy and herself, and for the most part, Joyce thought she’d been successful.   

Now her daughter had moved on, gotten married, and was living her own life – no matter that she was only sixteen.  Though, she wasn’t really now, was she?  What had Buffy said?  That she’d lived almost seventy years in the past? 

Her daughter was old enough to be her mother. 

Joyce was truly happy for Buffy, even if it left her alone… in a house much too large for one person. 

Which was why she’d talked at length with her assistant at the gallery today. 

She was going to turn over the day-to-day running of her gallery to Stephanie, and was leaving Sunnydale to see the world, shipping pieces of art as she came across it back to the States to be sold.  The older woman had been hesitant at first until Joyce had mentioned an increase in pay commensurate with her increased responsibilities.  And, if Stephanie liked what she was doing, there was an opportunity in the future of the woman buying her out, and Joyce would continue on… strictly as a purveyor of goods. 

Now all that needed to be done was for Joyce to box up the things she planned to keep, sell off everything else, and put her house on the market.  Since the money for the house came as a settlement from her divorce from Hank, whatever offer she finally accepted could be used to finance her trip at first – at least until the pieces she’d acquired began to sell. 

For now she’d use the money in her savings account.  The money she’d set aside for Buffy to go to college.  Money her daughter no longer needed. 

That her first stop would be England was a given.  And not because of Rupert either.  She was heeding the advice given her by Angelina, but only to a point.  It was the desire to maintain some type of contact with her daughter that spurred her to action, not the man she’d practically clung to as a lifeline the week prior. 

Yes, she’d told Angelina that he was a good man.  He was. Rupert had proven as much during the past week. And there was no denying his charming manners, that he was probably one of the most handsome men she’d ever encountered even with the stuffy tweed he had a penchant for wearing, and his accent was enough to make her weak in the knees.  Or the fact that he viewed Buffy as his own daughter and had treated her as such, something her real father had trouble doing.  

Truth was… she was scared.  She’d been burned once, and had been scarred deeply in the process.  And while she’d like nothing better than to allow herself to be swept away by the Englishman, Joyce was erring on the side of caution. 

If it was meant to be… it was meant to be.   

And no amount of running away by her would prevent it from happening. 

After a final spin of her house, Joyce set about packing away the mementos she would keep.  She’d allotted herself a week to get things in order, with the hopes of flying out sometime next weekend. 

She could hardly wait… 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“We’ll be there in five minutes, Mr. Alric.” 

“Maximilian.” 

“Er… Sorry, sir.” 

Alric quirked his brow at the man’s address, which went unnoticed in the rearview mirror, but Bob sensed it anyway.  The young vampire hated being addressed as “sir.” 

“Sorry, Mr. Maximilian.” 

Max, Bob.  Just Max.”   

The vamp sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat.  Alric knew he’d draw the short straw and be the one selected to infiltrate the demon slave ring… thanks, in part, to his youthful looks.  That the demons participating in the trade show would take one look and dismiss him out of hand.   

It was just the thing his sire was counting on. 

The Bentley pulled to a stop in front of the Landmark London.  A moment later, his door was opened by Bob, and Alric stepped from the vehicle, his eyes taking in his surroundings with a quick, dismissive glance. He saw a valet rush over and Bob stepped surreptitiously in front of him, as if to shield him against possible attack.  Alric rolled his eyes at the human’s useless gesture; sometimes Bob took his duties too seriously. 

If there was a threat to his safety, Alric was more than capable of seeing to it himself. 

“Good evening, sir.  Welcome to the Landmark London.” 

“Is there some place I can park?” Bob spoke for his boss. 

The valet regarded the chauffeur.  “Certainly.  We have valet parking, but you’re more than welcome to park your own vehicle.” 

“Very good.” Bob turned to his employer.  “I’ll just park the car, Mr. Maximilian, and bring your bags inside.” 

“Oh… we have a porter to take care of that…” the overly-eager valet volunteered.   

Bob ignored the boy. 

“I’ll be along directly, sir,” he said again, shutting the door and climbing back into the car. 

“Reception?” Alric asked the hotel employee. 

“Yes, sir.  If you’ll follow me…” 

Alric walked beneath the awning towards the hotel’s main entrance.  Once inside, he barely paid any attention to the opulent surroundings, heading straight to the check-in counter.  The Landmark London was nothing if not efficient, its staff trained to recognize wealth when present – which was why Alric was greeted by the hotel manager before he had a chance to reach the front desk. 

“Good evening, sir.  Welcome to the Landmark London.” 

Alric inclined his head in acknowledgement.  

“I have a reservation… under Maximilian.” 

“Mr. Maximilian… but of course.  We’ve been expecting you.  I understand yours is to be an open reservation.” 

“That’s correct.  I’ve business to attend to while in London and I’m not sure how long it will take.  Will that pose a problem?” 

“No, sir.  The Landmark prides itself on being able to accommodate its guests.” The hotel manager stopped in front of the desk, Alric beside him.  “Miss Le Feuvre, Mr. Maximilian will be staying in the Marylebone Suite indefinitely.” 

“Yes, Mr. Glen.” 

The hotel manager turned back to Alric.  “Miss Le Feuvre will see to your room.  Here’s my card.  If you need anything… anything at all… don’t hesitate to ring me.” 

Alric took the card and gave the man a brief nod, and turned away – dismissing him out of hand.   

The receptionist went through the motions of getting Alric registered and was just finishing when Bob returned with his bags in hand.  At some unseen signal from the woman, a porter appeared at her side and took the key card she held. 

“Jimmy here will help you with your bags and see you to your room.  Enjoy your stay, Mr. Maximilian.” 

Bob bit back a smile as Alric stepped away from the desk and growled at the porter to show them to his room when the boy made to take the bags out of his hands.  He hurried after the pair when the hotel employee seemed to race down the hallway towards a bank of elevators that led to the upper levels. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Bob began unpacking as his boss got rid of the boy.  He had the laptop out and warming up while Alric shepherded the boy towards the front door. 

“Thank you, sir,” Jimmy gushed, pocketing his tip. 

Alric shut the door in his overeager face.   

He walked back into the main living area, silently taking the device Bob held in his outstretched hand.  The clan’s secrecy was to be maintained at all costs, which was why they had controlling interests in several competing security companies throughout the world.  The scanning device Alric held was so new, it wasn’t even on the market yet. 

The vamp made quick work of checking for bugs throughout the suite and was surprised to find the room completely devoid of any surveillance equipment.  Past experience had shown him that most of the top-of-the-line hotels throughout the world monitored their higher-end suites.  After all, not every billion-dollar business venture meeting occurred in the boardroom. 

“Send my sire an email, informing him of our progress. I’m stepping out for a bite to eat after I change clothes… then I’m going to make the rounds.” 

“Very good, sir… er… Max.  Shall I drive?” 

“No.  I’m traveling light.  And where I’m going… let’s just say… it’s no place for any human.” 

Bob nodded.  He knew better than to argue, no matter how much he might wish to. 

~*~ 

Chinatown was on the other side of London from where he was, just past the Soho district.  Which was perfect for Alric, because it allowed him to feed before making his way towards Wong Kei, and the hidden entrance to the slave trade show that was due to kick off tonight. 

Dressed all in black, his katana hidden beneath his leather duster, Alric stepped outside the hotel and started down Marylebone Road.  He walked a couple of blocks before he hailed a cabbie. 

“Soho,” Alric barked out as he climbed into the back seat.  The vamp didn’t even flinch when the driver pulled out into traffic before he’d even managed to close the car door, cutting off another vehicle the next lane over to do so.  London cabbies had nothing on their New York City counterparts. 

Traffic was heavy and it took them nearly fifteen minutes to reach his destination. 

“You can let me out here,” Alric told the driver as they neared the intersection of Oxford and Berwick, throwing a handful of notes into the front seat once the driver pulled over – ignoring the man’s protestations of being overpaid as he climbed out of the car.  He walked off without a backward glance, drawn towards the sights and smells of the seedier side of London. 

It didn’t take Alric long to find someone to eat, afterward dumping the body in one of the skips tucked away on a side street.  By the time he’d neared the end of Berwick Street, three more bodies occupied the oversized rubbish containers – and Londoners were just a smidgeon safer than before his victims had met their end. 

As he turned on to Gerrard Street and was now in the heart of Chinatown, Alric became even more vigilant in his guard; he sensed human and demon alike walking along the street taking in the Oriental-style nightlife.   

Alric decided to walk up one side of the street and back down the other to familiarize himself with the area, disguising what he was doing by lingering alongside various street vendors, sometimes buying useless trinkets that he would later dispose of.  

Only when he was confident in his assessment, did Alric make his way towards Wong Kei. 

There was a small line outside the Chinese restaurant, and he thought briefly about making his way to the front.  But since he didn’t want to draw undue attention to himself, he stepped to the back of the line and waited with the others.  It wasn’t a long wait, maybe five minutes… and he forced himself not to cringe when a male waiter finally barked out rather rudely “how many?” in a heavily accented voice as he stepped up to the podium. 

“Just myself.”  

“You… upstairs…go…”  The man pointed towards the stairs, his eyes already back on the sheet of paper in front of him, not bothering to see if he went that way or not. 

“I’d prefer the basement,” he replied in perfect Chinese, not having moved from his spot.   

The waiter’s head snapped up, his jaw hanging open in astonishment.  Alric just smiled and waited.  Finally, the man seemed to jar himself from his stupor. 

“Yes… yes… you come… this way…”   He gestured frantically at Alric, barking out in Chinese for someone to come take his post. 

Alric was led down a flight of stairs, barely paying attention to the running commentary of the waiter – entirely in Chinese – as he half-walked half-ran down the steps.  They reached the bottom and the vamp’s gaze swept about the room, mentally tagging each of its occupants.  Men in business suits mingled with various types of demons… though they were glamoured to appear human.  He didn’t make eye contact with any of them, taking the seat indicated by the waiter. 

He ordered without bothering to look at the menu, again in Chinese – though, he kept his voice low so that it didn’t carry.  Having fed already, Alric wasn’t particularly hungry, but figured going through the motions of ordering – and eating – dinner would take awhile, and would allow him the time he needed to figure out the easiest way to gain access to the trade show. 

“You here for show?” the waiter asked in a hushed whisper as he retrieved the menu sitting on top of the table. 

‘So much for needing a plan.’ 

“Yes.” 

“Good! Good! You eat first… then I take you… yes?” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Alric steeled himself for what he might see upon stepping through the doors leading to the underground cavern that was home to the European Demon Trade Show.  He walked through the double doors, shifting the left side of his duster as he did so, allowing all to see the weapon he carried on his person. 

He’d count himself lucky if his sword didn’t leave its sheath at some point during the night. 

Alric walked down the ramp that opened into a huge open pit easily the size of two football fields set end-to-end.  Every demon imaginable milled about, some with their human pets chained at their sides.  Others, like him, without.  Many species he’d come across at some time in his unlife.  Some he’d killed… some he’d not.   

Doing his best to blend in, he ambled down the pre-designated walkway, careful to hide the revulsion he felt at seeing the things he did.  True, he had no problem eating humans to survive… but this?   

It was beyond his comprehension. 

Maybe it was because he was from another era.  Of a time when he’d walked among humans, and had to practice self-control.  If he was a vampire new in the making, he could probably appreciate owning a human for a pet.  Or as a slave.  Someone to obey his every command, his slightest whim. 

Seeing this three ring circus – which was what the place amounted to – was enough to make him lose the blood, and the Chinese food, he’d recently consumed. 

Halfway around the huge circle, Alric was forced to stop.  Something had caused a crowd to form.  Bits of jumbled conversation drifted back to him, and the general consensus was that one of the slave traders was displaying his wares, and that many were quite taken with one of the humans… a female. 

Alric mentally shrugged his shoulders and moved off.  It wasn’t his place to save these people.  He was just there to infiltrate the establishment, find out who ran the thing… and discreetly eliminate him.  With that thought in mind, Alric pushed his way through the crowds, eager to get this initial contact over with and retreat to his hotel room. 

That was the plan…

Until the crowd parted and he got a look at the female slave displayed to advantage inside the vendor’s stall. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Tala kept her head lowered submissively while she was led up on the raised platform and one of the chains dangling from the overhead beam was snapped on to her neck collar.  Six months ago, she would have fought tooth and nail at the idea of being shackled… let alone owned.  But, six months ago, Hakan was still free.  Now he’d been captured, and was being used to keep her in line. 

In a few days, she’d be sold off to the highest bidder.  Turned into a demon whore… or worse

Her mind shut down at the thought, and her already bowed head dipped even lower, causing her long hair to fall forward over her shoulder, partially covering her bare breasts.  The dyed white color contrasted sharply with her bronzed skin, a product of her Native American ancestry.   

She didn’t see the demons ogling her, how they stopped in front of Glarshnic’s area and pointed in her direction, but a part of her felt their gaze raking her from head to toe, and she could practically hear the thoughts racing through their heads... the things they’d do to her if theirs was the winning bid. 

None of it showed however.  She moved when she was instructed to move by her handler – showing off the merchandise, as it were.  

Just like a slave should obey its master.

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