For Love of a Wolf: Alric's Story
by SpikesKat
Chapter 17
In the two months since visiting Tala’s hometown, Alric felt like he’d circled the globe. Twice.
Armed with a few stolen pictures of Hakan and the scent of the boy firmly embedded in his mind, he’d taken them back to Europe, then eventually to China when he found out the man that owed him his life had returned to his native homeland. Though there’d been no language barrier for Alric to worry over, the fact that he’d been something other – vampire and white – had brought his search grounding to a halt. Weeks were wasted, until Alric had caught a lucky break. Several more weeks had passed before he’d found Po Sing in a tiny village located in a remote area of China that had neither electricity nor cell phone connectivity.
But, he’d gotten a name, and a demon species – that had given him a starting location.
Which was why he was in Los Angeles and staring up at the building that was home to the souled vampire.
For days, he’d watched Angel’s comings and goings – careful to stay off Doyle’s radar. Alric had followed the vamp a time or two to see what he was getting up to. Apparently, Angel had set up shop and he, along with Doyle, was helping the lost souls of the city, battling human and demon alike to keep safe those too weak to do so themselves.
A noble feat – more so than the halfhearted attempts Angel had made with the Slayer in Sunnydale.
Alric glanced at his watch and sighed. He could put it off no longer. If Angel followed his typical routine, he’d be back soon from his nightly prowl.
~*~*~*~*~
Angel stepped out of the lift and knew right away that he wasn’t alone. He walked cautiously into the room, body tense and ready to explode into action… only to freeze in shock, his jaw dropping in amazement upon spying his unwanted guest.
“Hello, Angel,” Alric greeted the vampire calmly.
“You!” was the first thing that came out of Angel’s mouth. And then, “Spike… is he—?”
“I’m not here because of my sire.”
That brought Angel up short and made him tense in anticipation of attack.
“And I’m not here to fight either,” Alric added, sensing the other’s unease. “Look. You got anything to drink around here? This may take awhile.”
Angel didn’t relax, not completely anyway, but he did walk over towards the kitchen area and pulled out an unopened single malt from one of the cupboards. For some reason, he felt that whatever the vampire had to tell him called for something with a kick.
“So…” Angel began once he’d poured them both a drink and sat back down across from his guest. “What—?”
“Am I doing here?” Alric finished.
“Uh… yeah.”
It was a bit unnerving to have the vamp that had swept the floor with his ass sitting so calmly across from him.
“Believe me… I wouldn’t be here if I had any choice in the matter. But, unfortunately, you’ve established yourself as the demon in charge here in Los Angeles, so it falls to you to act as my mediary.”
“Mediary?”
“Of sorts. The demons I’m seeking are the type that will only grant an audience to someone of power.”
“But I don’t have any power. I—”
“Look, you’ve marked Los Angeles as your own. You get rid of demons that encroach upon your territory. That makes you someone of power… at least with the Marabori.”
“The Marabori?”
“Yes. They’re fairly nomadic and stick to themselves, which is probably why you haven’t ever seen or heard of them. But, they’re rather deadly.” And have an unhealthy interest in children, he didn’t add.
“And they’re here? In L.A.?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want with them?”
“I just have a few questions to ask them.”
“Uh huh…” And I was turned yesterday.
They engaged in a staring contest that seemed to last for several minutes. Angel cocked his brow and waited. And waited. Because this was one battle of wills he was going to win. There was no way he was jumping into something with one of Spike’s childer without knowing the full story. Angel didn’t think Alric would speak, that the vamp would just get up and leave rather than confide in him. So, he was rather surprised, if confused, when he finally did so.
“I’m looking for a boy.”
“Come again?”
“A boy. I’m looking for a boy. He was sold to two Marabori demons at a slaver’s auction in Europe a few months back. I’m trying to find him, and hopefully barter for his release. The trail led here… to L.A. Apparently, the Marabori come together for some type of ritualistic siesta before venturing off to the four corners of the world.”
“Barter, huh?” Angel asked, zeroing in on what the vampire wanted to do.
“Yeah. That’s where you come in. To them, I have no power. I’m just a solitary vamp invading their territory. I’d be viewed as nothing but a threat to them.”
“How is it you know so much about these… what did you call them? Maurudi?”
“Marabori. The clan has a fairly extensive library of demon species; I’ve researched my fair share of them.”
“What do you need me to do?” Angel sighed.
~*~
Angel saw the vampire out of his apartment and locked up before returning to his chair and his glass of whiskey. He poured himself a healthy refill and swallowed it down in one gulp, not feeling the burn in his throat as he replayed the conversation he’d had with the vamp.
Something Alric hadn’t said was bugging Angel. That and the fact that he’d been adamant about not involving Doyle. In fact, he’d been told under no circumstances was he to mention Alric’s presence in L.A. Another glassful, and Angel was trying to figure out how he was going to accomplish that – the half-breed had a sixth sense about things sometimes.
~*~*~*~*~
Alric let himself into the motel room and nodded at Bob when he roused himself from the couch.
“Just me,” he let the other man know.
Bob nodded once then settled back down on the cushions and was fast asleep in moments. Alric spared him a smile as he locked the door – Bob really did take his duty of seeing to the clan’s safety seriously. When their search for Hakan was at an end, he’d have to find some way to repay Bob for his unswerving loyalty.
Alric walked through the living room and entered the single bedroom and closed the door behind him. Tala was asleep, snuggled beneath the covers. For once, her heart was beating at a normal rate; she wasn’t being troubled by another nightmare, thankfully.
He’d debated telling her about Hakan and that he believed the boy hadn’t died in the crash but had instead been sold to a demon, much like she had. Only, he didn’t want to get her hopes up, have her come back to awareness, just to find out that the boy’s owner had killed him. Alric didn’t think he could survive a repeat performance of Tala’s near catatonic state.
So, for now, he remained quiet on the subject. Instead employing other means to try and bring Tala back to him. As yet, nothing had worked. She still ate food from his hand, still meekly offered up her neck to him, still curled against him when he slid into bed next to her – but that was the extent of her willingness to remain in this world.
And he had to wonder what would have happened if he’d not claimed her.
Alric wrapped his arms around Tala, and sure enough, she shifted from her back to her side to burrow against his chest. His soothing purr began without any awareness on his part, now more a reflex action that came from being close to his Consort than anything else. He heard her sigh in her sleep and smiled into her hair, gave her a slight squeeze as she settled next to him.
Not much longer, he told himself. He’d find Tala’s brother and then she’d come back to him.
Being indebted to Angel was a small price to pay to have that happen.
~*~*~*~*~
Joyce leaned away from the toilet and groped blindly for the washcloth folded over the sink’s edge. Three times in as many days and she could no longer deny what was staring her in the face – she was pregnant.
She wiped her face off and got slowly to her feet. Winced when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Thankfully Rupert was off seeing to things at his shop, a store that sold both antiquities and rare books.
The new business had been a result of his being fired from the Watcher’s Council, something to do with Rupert having stolen a one-of-a-kind spell book. Though Rupert had had both the contacts and resources to prevent his being sacked, he’d declined, stating to Joyce – and to Buffy and the others – that Travers’ judgment was a sign for him to move on. To close that particular chapter of his life and start fresh. Then in front of Spike, Buffy, and the rest of the clan that had been present at the Countess’ estate, he’d gotten down on one knee and proposed.
Joyce still got teary-eyed just thinking about it.
She’d given him an emphatic yes, of course, pleased to see that Buffy had been nodding right along with her. There’d been some good-natured heckling from Spike that Rupert had taken in stride. Congratulations had turned into an impromptu celebratory party that had lasted until the wee hours of the morning.
Two weeks later, she’d become Mrs. Rupert Giles. In the month following her marriage, she’d flown back to California to settle her affairs there – selling the gallery to her long-time assistant, going through her storage and packing up the things she wanted to keep and shipping them to her new home, leaving the rest to charity, and paying her ex-husband one last visit to inform him that he no longer needed to send her an alimony check. She’d returned to England free from her past and settled into domestic bliss with her new husband.
After a leisurely shower, Joyce made an appointment with her doctor to confirm her self-diagnosis. Given her age, she wanted to take extra care with her pregnancy. They had a slot available for later that day, and Joyce confirmed the time and hung up.
Now she just needed to let the dad-to-be know. She only hoped he was as happy as her.
~*~*~*~*~
“A sprog, huh?” Spike smirked.
Giles very nearly spat out his whiskey. “Bloody hell, Spike. A little respect, if you will. That’s my future child you’re bad-mouthing.”
Spike saluted the former watcher with his glass and took a sip of his own drink to hide his smile. The last few months had seen a budding friendship between the two, especially since he and Joyce had been frequent visitors to Jocelyn’s estate.
He and Giles were alone in the study, having barely escaped being sucked into the women’s baby planning. When they’d slipped unnoticed out of the front parlor, Joyce had been weighing the merits of taking out a wall in Rupert’s small flat. Spike had ushered the man out before he could start sputtering objections, then pointed him in the direction of the study with the promise to join him shortly after checking in with Adam.
After awhile, Spike set down his empty glass and pulled out the folded paper from an inside pocket of his coat. He handed it over without saying a word.
“What’s this?” Giles asked, taking the paper. He slipped his glasses on and opened the single sheet of paper.
“Consider it an early christening gift.”
“Good lord! Spike!” Giles sputtered, eyeing the deed to a prominent London address with his and Joyce’s name on it. His glasses came back off and he didn’t even bother to polish them, too floored by the extravagance of the gift to bother with the nervous habit. “This is— I say! We couldn’t possibly…”
“It’s a done deal, Rupert. You can’t say no.” Spike told him. “The place isn’t furnished, though it does have a state-of-the-art security system installed. Figured you could tell the Slayer’s mum now and save your precious walls from being demolished.”
Giles flustered and stammered for a bit, until Spike went in for the kill.
“It was Buffy’s idea. And, the place is secure enough to allow us to visit from time to time. Now, come on. Let’s go share the good news with the ladies.”
“Very well,” Giles replied finally, having the good sense to give in gracefully.
Needless to say, Joyce was ecstatic and they made plans to drive into the city tomorrow to look over the property and come up with some ideas for decorating the place. However, when Spike announced that he planned to keep the clan in England until after Joyce gave birth, the squeals of delight from both Summers women were enough to shatter glass.
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