Chapter 18
~*~*~*~*~
Then this ebony bird
beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, "art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.”
Edgar Allen Poe
The Raven
~*~*~*~*~
“Wot? Waited until the plane landed, didn’t I?” he argued indignantly. “And you gotta admit it’s the best way – no loose lips to sink ships.”
Ripper glanced down at the ravaged necks of the pilot and copilot, who’d been attacked the moment they’d opened the door that had sealed off the cockpit. He couldn’t fault the vampire’s logic, and the speed and skill the two had employed had impressed even him. Maybe teaming up with these two vampires hadn’t been such a bad decision after all.
“True,” Ripper agreed. “All done are we?”
Spike didn’t spare a glance at the corpses at his feet, just held out his hand to his childe. She eagerly slipped her hand in his, leaning up to lick a stray smear of blood from his lips.
“After you, mate.”
The foursome took advantage of the car that had been sent to collect them; Willow having cast a cloaking spell to mask the two vampires. The driver, some underling whose mind was no match for the witch’s manipulations, gushed at seeing the pair descend the steps of the aircraft and into the waiting limousine – rambling on about their accommodations while he held the door open for them.
Ripper just rolled his eyes at the wet-behind-the-ears youth and bade him shut his trap and the door.
“Now him I wouldn’t mind you eating,” Ripper muttered as the driver closed the door and rushed around to take his place behind the wheel.
The foursome relaxed in silence as the driver left London Heathrow Airport behind on their relatively short trip into the city and the Lanesborough Hotel. On the off chance the elaborate accommodations were a smokescreen enacted by the “Men in Tweed” and the limousine was bugged, they’d elected to wait until checking in to their room before discussing their plans to take over the Council. Once there, Willow could erect stronger wards to block out even the most sophisticated spying devices, rather than the quick spell she was using right now to conceal the vampires.
At the hotel, Ripper stepped up to the desk, suitcase in hand, showing his credentials and Willow’s manufactured ones to the receptionist.
“Ah, Mr. Giles, so good to have you with us.” The staff at the Lanesborough was very familiar with the Watchers’ Council and had to undergo in-depth vetting before being permitted to hold a position that would require one-on-one contact with members of the secret organization. “If you’ll just sign right here, Jason will show you to your room. Have you brought any cases with you?”
“No, we’re traveling light, just our hand luggage,” Ripper replied in his most stake-up-the-arse voice.
The former watcher watched as the card keys were handed to the bellboy waiting to assist them.
“If you’ll follow me, Mr. Giles.”
Jason turned towards the elevator, as the man and what could be either his daughter or a very young girlfriend, drew near. The elevators closed with a soundless whoosh and the bellboy chatted about the facilities and how fortunate they’d been to secure a room overlooking Hyde Park – completely oblivious to the two smirking vampires leaning against one of the walls.
The elevator halted at their floor and the small group was led down the hallway to their room. He quickly inserted the card and opened the door, his prepared speech as he recited the room’s accommodations tumbling from his lips. None of the guests were paying him the slightest attention.
The bellboy completed his circuit of the room and swept open the curtains with a flourish so that the pair could take in the scenic view of Hyde Park and Mayfair at night – he’d learned a while ago that that little trick would usually garner him an extra fiver in his tip. When the audible gasps of wonder and awe were lacking, he turned to glance at the couple. The man was seated at the table writing, while the redhead seemed bored with the whole process.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Jason asked.
Ripper looked up.
“Oh, you’re finished. Good. No, this’ll be quite satisfactory. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have reports to attend to for the Council. I’m sure you understand.”
“Yes, sir.” He kept his opinion of the Councilman to himself and pasted on a polite smile. “Here are your keys.”
Ripper took the keys, and at the boy’s expectant look, he stood and reached into his pocket to extract a few notes, shoving a couple of the bills into the hand that had suddenly appeared.
“I trust you can see yourself out?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Goodnight.”
The boy was forgotten as Ripper sat back down at the table.
“Willow.” His voice was low, the single word inflected with meaning.
Nodding, the girl gripped her hands together, tucking them under and pushing them away from her body as she cracked her knuckles. She swiveled her head in a circular motion and more cracking could be heard. A chant in Latin was whispered under her breath, and her hands began to glow as a green ball of energy formed in the palm of her hand. It slowly expanded until it doubled in size, then after a flash of blinding light, the room seemed to glow in a hazy shade of sea green.
“Done,” she murmured to her mentor and lover.
“How long will it last?”
“A few hours, give or take.”
“Long enough for us to see about an upgrade,” Spike announced.
“I don’t think—”
“No, he’s right,” Willow interjected. “We should keep this room for appearances, but set up a separate place to stay. Not that I’m in any way averse to a little voyeurism, or even an orgy or two, but this place is way too small, even for two.” Her gaze swept over the elaborately furnished room with distaste.
“Red’s got the right of it. We’ll be back once we’ve found something a bit more us.”
“Take Willow with you. She can keep the hotel staff in line while you take care of the room’s occupants. And, just let me be clear. The staff’s off limits. Any of them go missing, it could blow our cover. There are enough morons outside the hotel to keep you both fed and happy for years to come.” The two Brits shared a look.
“I’d forgotten how bloody crowded London is,” Ripper grumbled.
“It’s a long time since I’ve been spoiled for choice. But it does make ‘take out’ a tad easier.”
“Here…take a card key. I’m making a list of the supplies we’ll need. Wilde’s is over in Chelsea, and I’m going to try and look up an old friend while I’m in town. He loves to dabble in the old naughty nasty – very skillful and rather partial to invoking chaos. He may come in handy. And, as faithful minion of Eyghon his talents and contacts will prove very useful.”
Spike flicked the card against his forehead in mock salute. “Ta, mate.”
~*~*~*~*~
Gaining access to the Royal Suite had been a breeze thanks to Willow and her magicks. She’d put a glamour spell on the three, transforming Spike into a bodyguard of sorts dressed in a discreet black suit, while garbing herself and Buffy in the type of evening gowns flaunted at movie premieres. The blonde vampire hadn’t been able to see her reflection in the mirror, but a brush past her “bodyguard” as he seated her in her chair told her that she was looking good. After that, it had been a simple matter for the witch to do a quick mind probe to see who was currently occupying the suite and another spell to get the male – an American actor named Jake, currently taking a break from his shooting schedule – to join them at their table.
An hour was spent by the two females teasing the man shamelessly: a foot rubbing against the groin, a hand sliding along a sculpted thigh – all accomplished beneath the crisply starched tablecloth as they dined in the Conservatory. Afterward, they practically raced down the secluded hallway leading to his suite, both Buffy and Willow taking up position on either side of the unsuspecting hunk to continue driving him insane with lust.
In a practiced move, the two stopped outside the door to his suite and struck a seductive pose. The actor turned, and seeing them hovering in the doorway, issued the invitation that signaled his demise.
“Come on in, ladies,” Jake purred in the voice that had women the world over panting in their seats as they watched him on screen.
Twin smiles graced their lips as Buffy was able to step over the threshold.
“Me first?” the vampiress asked in an aside to Willow, her eyes never leaving her prey.
“By all means,” Willow gestured with a wave of her hand. “I’ll just take a look around.”
Buffy eyed the man’s crotch, scenting his arousal and lack of fear. Not for very much longer, she’d see to it. She didn’t want to fuck her food, just eat it. Still, the role had to be maintained. Licking her lips, she sashayed towards the actor, her hips swaying seductively, the cut of the “glamoured” gown clinging to her toned body and showing off her curves to their best advantage.
“Hear that, big boy? I get first dibs. Think you can handle me?” She stopped before him, one long fingernail trailing down the lapel of his dinner jacket.
“Oh yeah…”
His hand snaked out and pulled her flush against his body so that she felt the evidence of his desire. He lowered his head and kissed her. Soft, gentle kisses to make sure she wasn’t going to change her mind, moaning in delight when she seemed to have other ideas. Passion – or so he thought – quickly flared between the pair, and Jake suddenly found his head pulled back as her fingers fisted in his hair. His grip on her tightened as blunt teeth nipped lightly at his neck, and he guided them deeper into his suite and towards the white couch situated in front of the fireplace.
When his feet encountered the front edge, he sat and leaned back, pulling the blonde female down on top of him. His fingers instinctively sought the fastenings of her dress as she squirmed above him. So intent on his task to see the goddess naked, he didn’t notice her facial features shift against his neck or hear her growl just seconds before she tore into his neck.
By then it was too late. She’d stifled his scream with a strategic hand over his mouth, and his last thought before the darkness called to him, was that he should have stayed on the set and not had a power struggle with his director.
“Nummy treat?” Willow asked from her position behind the back of the couch. She couldn’t resist trailing a hand along the toned flank of the vampiress still feeding from the man’s neck. The witch chuckled at the warning growl and moved round the couch to stand before the fireplace.
“Incendio!”
the witch commanded with a wave of her hand.
The
logs in the fireplace blazed
into life and soft light flickered about
the darkened room.
A
moment later, Buffy sat up and licked her lips.
“Nice…think you could do something with this?” she questioned the
witch as she stood and stepped away from the couch.
Willow grinned.
“Mobilcorpus!” The
limp body of the actor levitated off of the couch and floated after the witch as
she moved towards one of the rooms.
“Cool,” Buffy commented as her fangs and ridged brow receded and she once more slipped into her human guise. She sensed her sire approaching, so she rushed to the door and opened it just as he arrived. Since the single occupant was no longer among the living, no barrier barred his entry.
Spike crushed his childe against him, growling fiercely as he smelled the man’s scent all over her body. Her purring into his neck settled him somewhat, but he wasn’t happy. She was still new to him, only he could touch her.
Mark her.
Taste her.
His temper soared again, and he was just about to throw Buffy over his shoulder and bear her off to one of the suite’s bedrooms, when Red appeared.
“Do you two ever take a break?”
“Jealous, pet?”
Willow snorted, but wisely held her tongue. Since being initiated into the pleasures of the flesh and all it entailed by her master, sex was never far from her thoughts. She could feel their hunger; wisely, she changed the subject.
“Do you guys want something to eat?” Willow asked.
“You volunteering?”
Spike grinned and Buffy growled possessively as both scented the witch’s response to the master vampire’s words.
“Some other time - I’ve got wards to put in place.” She fingered one of the keycards on the table near the entrance. It glowed green for a moment as she magically enhanced it. “Here take this with you. You’ll need it to get back in.”
“Say, luv…fancy a pub crawl?”
Buffy cocked her head to the side. “What’s a pub crawl?”
“Trust me. It’s a lot of fun.”
She smiled as the word “fun” seemed to roll off his tongue. Honestly, she didn’t care where they went – as long as they were together, she was happy.
~*~*~*~*~
Ripper strolled some distance down towards Knightsbridge before hailing a taxi to take him to Wilde’s. He’d waved off the doorman’s attempts of obtaining him transportation, telling the man that he just wanted to stretch his legs for a bit…glory in being back in his homeland. The sap had sucked up his explanation and winked conspiratorially at him as he bid him a good evening.
He’d not ventured inside the magic shop since his hellion days as a demon-worshipping youth. And he laughed inwardly that its true nature had never been revealed, that it had carried on its evil machinations right under the Council’s nose.
So naïve he’d been, completely unprepared for all that Eyghon had to offer him. He’d ended up caving to his father’s demands to buck up and fulfill his family obligation to the Council. But, Eyghon was always there, lurking in the dark recesses of his mind. Biding his time.
Then it had happened, and the demon had been reborn even stronger than before. No doubt due to his maturity and the fact that his natural inclinations had been suppressed for so many years. Yes, now the demon flowed through his veins…and things were exactly as they should be. He could feel the power even now, crackling at his fingertips, just waiting to be used. Power, unlike anything he’d ever experienced, his to command. A snap of his fingers, a flick of his wrist, even a thought would be all that was required.
Chaos, just waiting to be unleashed.
The Watchers’ Council would be the beginning.
The cab drew to a halt outside the shops lining the Kings Road. Ripper had given the cabbie the street as his destination, rather than an actual building – he was nothing if not cautious. He was too close to having it all to blow it on not paying extra attention to the finer details. He tipped the driver a typical amount, nothing to draw particular notice, and he waited until the car sped off before ambling down towards World’s End.
The closer he got to Wilde’s, the sharper his senses became, until he could hear the heartbeats of other pedestrians, the individual engine parts of passing cars, moving in sync with one another; feel the rough fibers of the tweed pants of his “Giles” costume; smell the plethora of distinct odors that assailed his nostrils – some good, some horrendous.
Ahhhh… the joys of
demonhood, and all the wonderful gifts it entails.
He came to a halt before a nondescript little shop. It was just as it had always been, despite the drastic change that had taken place in the area. Gone were the punk boutiques and scruffy shops of his day; now grand and not so grand antique businesses had taken over, yet Wildes still blended in, as anonymous and unremarkable as ever.
He stepped up to the door, eyes glowing red.
The door swung open without a
hand being laid to it and Ripper entered. The
entire shop was lined with shelves filled with books and jars, tables and
display cases crammed with artifacts and statuary.
Gleaming wood and glass. He passed through the shop, some of the tamer
items that he needed magically floating to a free table to await his return from
the basement.
This area was accessible to only the more serious warlocks. In the basement, all sorts of delectable ingredients lay waiting for the right person – the right demon – to summon their power. It was here that Ripper’s feet carried him.
The wards in front of the hidden door melted away before Eyghon, and Ripper crept down the rickety stairs. He smiled evilly as he sensed the other’s presence.
Good.
It saved him the trouble of looking.
“Hello, Ethan,” Ripper greeted the other coolly as he reached the last step and walked into the room.